The Razor's Edge

by Seanan McGuire

  Juyk waved him away with one hand while the other two disconnected the stalk. “We’ve had no report of any anomalies, Craylxz. Bring up the stalk analyzer. Organics can be a bit finicky and perhaps the error is in the transfer, not the unit itself.”

  Craylxz swiped the pattern display from the screen and opened the analyzer. Juyk placed the rubbery suction end of the stalk against the screen and watched. Colored arcs bounced mesmerizingly around the connection.

  “Very minor fluctuations. Well within specifications,” said Juyk. “I suggest you clean the stalk anyway. When you’re done, purge and wipe the unit again. If it continues to be an issue, we’ll terminate the connection. And Craylxz, I don’t expect to hear from you again unless there’s a unit out of specifications. You may feel you’re attuned to these units, but the fact is they have a job to do and any disruptions could cost us the war. That is, unless you’d prefer to take the unit’s place?” Without waiting for a reply, Juyk turned to leave. “Oh, and you might try increasing the strength of the sleep wave for this unit. Understood?”

  Craylxz grayed his skin in submission. “Yes, Domar.” He did his best to not vibrate with anger until he heard the slurp of the chamber’s sphincter contract and relax.

  * * *

  Jose flailed for the button to silence the offending alarm. It wasn’t the clock’s fault he had to get up at “Oh-my-god-thirty” in the morning to get to work. He shuffled into the bathroom, flipped the light on, and gazed in the mirror. A puffy middle-aged face with sprinkles of gray at the temples looked back at him. When had he gotten so old? He couldn’t remember being more than twenty. He showered, dressed, ate his typical bowl of cereal and headed out the door to work.

  Jose slipped into his office and turned on his computer. While it booted, he grabbed some coffee from the automated cart and said his good mornings to his teammates. He had just enough time to return to his desk and take a couple of swigs of coffee before the phones began to ring.

  The first two hours were non-stop basic questions. Jose could have answered these in his sleep, and sometimes he wondered if he didn’t. Then a real call came in. He opened up the browser to do an initial search of the answer database and noticed an odd bookmark. Nestled between “Nullspace matrices” and “Orthogonal subspaces” was an entry titled “Open Me.” Curious, but also quite aware that the bean counters were monitoring his response rate, Jose noted the existence of the file and returned to the question. The pleading link would have to wait until lunch.

  When his turn for lunch came, he downloaded the text file associated with the link and scanned it for viruses. When it came back clean, he opened it and read the first line. “None of this is real.” An ice-pick pain jolted him upright and the world went black.

  * * *

  Craylxz lifted the unit from its cradle. It disconnected from the pulse grid with a pop as the suction released. Craylxz gingerly placed the unit in the purge mesh. He glanced up at the many eyes embedded in the chamber’s walls and wondered if Domar Juyk was watching him. Craylxz kept his expression neutral, but inside he was seething at Domar Juyk’s comments. The Vyrlk had subjugated Craylxz’s system five standard fleet years ago. Craylxz’s people proved to be incompatible with the cerebral chambers, so the Vyrlk had deemed them too stupid for anything other than cerebral unit maintenance. It was easier to comply than rebel, but at times like this, Craylxz longed for retribution.

  Craylxz watched the progress meter, allowing himself a discontented huff. Arcs of electrical currents shot into the cerebral matter at regular intervals making the system crackle. When the purge and wipe finished, Craylxz disconnected the unit and began the arduous task of cleaning the stalk. He gently wiped out each fold and wondered if the unit was aware of anything during this period. With no electrical impulses to fire the neurons, he doubted it, but sometimes he imagined that they could still think and feel on their own. After he finished meticulously applying the conducting gel to the folds of the stalk, he placed the unit back in its cradle. The reintroduction of electrical impulses caused the folds of the unit to twitch, and Craylxz involuntarily retracted his arms at the memory of the Vrylk submission sticks. He glanced up at the eyes again. He was sure the overseer was laughing at his weakness. He grabbed the interface device and increased the sleep wave intensity by a factor of two. Noting the wave patterns, he deemed his task complete and retreated to his chamber where he could collapse without shame.

  * * *

  Jose slipped into his office and turned on his computer. He was especially tired this morning, so he grabbed two cups of coffee from the automated cart.

  The first two hours were non-stop basic questions. Jose felt like he had been answering these in his sleep, when a real call came in. He opened up the browser to do an initial search of the answer database and noticed an odd bookmark. Nestled between “Nullspace matrices” and “Orthogonal subspaces” was an entry titled “Open Me.” He answered the customer’s question and rested his head in his hands. Something about the odd entry seemed familiar, but right now he was just too tired to care. A song kept running through his head, and he found himself nodding off. He knew it’d count against him, but he clocked out and headed home. The file would have to wait until tomorrow.

  * * *

  Craylxz panicked when he saw the latest computation count. Obviously increasing the sleep wave had produced the opposite effect in the unit. He knew the overseer would blame him for the mistake rather than take any responsibility for suggesting the increase to begin with. However, the overseer had said he didn’t want to be bothered unless the unit was out of specifications, so Craylxz didn’t have to report the discrepancy. Technically, the unit was operating within specifications. The computation count was low, but the wave pattern was still good. Barely. If he reduced the sleep wave, maybe the unit’s production would increase enough to average out the computations to normal. Sure, it wasn’t sanctioned, but at this point he cared less about that and more about making sure the chamber met the efficiency target when the report came due in twenty cycles. Craylxz reduced the offending unit’s sleep. Now he just had to wait and see.

  * * *

  Jose woke an hour before his alarm went off. When he got to the office, he looked longingly into his coffee mug. He had ended up at work so early the automated coffee cart hadn’t even begun its rounds. Jose tried to remember if there was anything he’d left unfinished yesterday and decided to check his files and see if he’d left himself any notes. He didn’t find a list, so he decided it couldn’t hurt to go over the browser entries. After all, everyone’s performance was monitored and maybe this would give him the edge he needed to get a commendation. He opened up the home page and began to read the list of entries. When he got to the N’s and O’s, he noticed something odd. Nestled between “Nullspace matrices” and “Orthogonal subspaces” was an entry titled “Open Me.”

  Jose hesitated before clicking on the link. He was leery of opening something as blatant as a link that said Open Me. However, he was curious and had some time. When he clicked the link, a prompt requesting a file name provided him with the option OpenMe(27).docx. This meant that he had done this exact thing twenty-six times, but this was the first time he could recall seeing the entry. He opened the downloads folder and checked the details of the files. They weren’t the same file size, but they all appeared to have the same date. Today. Time wise, the results were scattered throughout the day.

  Jose checked his watch. He had five minutes before his shift started. They had a very strict quota to adhere to, and the last thing he wanted was for his actions to penalize his teammates. If they didn’t meet their quota, everyone on the team would get a mark. Three marks and you were fired. That meant no job, no housing, and pretty much no future in the tech field. He’d have to read fast. He opened version one.

  “None of this is real. Today will be mostly like every other day. You will get the following questions. Hopefully, this will convince you.”

  Jose quickly skimme
d the list of questions before reading on.

  “Something is controlling us. Every night your memory will be wiped, but some fragments remain. I, you, found a way to save this file on the server. If you remember something, add it and save it in the same location. George always wears a red shirt with a striped blue tie.”

  Jose closed the file and stared off into the distance. Something about it rang true. It was Wednesday, so he should remember something from the last two days. He could recall older events—graduating with his Masters in Computer Science and his first job with the NSA—but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here, in the customer service department of Compu, Inc.

  The sound of the elevator bell pulled Jose from his thoughts. Out of the door came George wearing a red shirt with a striped blue tie. Jose did his best to remain expressionless as he waved to George.

  “Early morning, Jose?” asked George.

  “Couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d try to get the team’s numbers up,” replied Jose.

  “Well, thanks for that. Wish I could make it out of bed before the alarm.” He disappeared into his cubicle.

  Jose shook his head. Maybe it was just a coincidence. There was one way to find out. He opened the last file version and scrolled to the list of phone calls. If those were the same too, he’d add a note to the file and save it.

  After the first ten phone calls matched, Jose started using the list to anticipate the next call. By the end of the day he’d answered ten more calls than were on the list. He noted each one and added a line to the top of the file. “Add a date line every time you save this file and increase the number if the date is the same. Today is Wednesday, October 22-1. I added 10 lines to the call list.” He saved and closed the file.

  * * *

  Craylxz was overjoyed when he saw the increase in efficiency from the unit and noted that the waveforms were still within specifications. The extra computations hadn’t made up the deficit from the previous day, but they were a start. He reduced the sleep wave even further. He’d need to monitor the unit to make sure it remained within specifications. Once he figured out the limits, he’d increase the efficiency of all the units. He’d prove his worth to Domar Juyk. He could see the report now, Craylxz, caretaker of cerebral unit 469, wins the war. Maybe he’d even be the first Domar of his kind. Then Juyk would have to respect him.

  * * *

  Jose woke two full hours before his alarm was set to go off. When he got to work, the automated lighting system hadn’t even triggered for the day. He recalled putting some notes in a file and found one dated Wednesday, October 22, 5:32am. He checked the clock on his computer. Wednesday, October 22, 4:55am.

  Add a date line every time you save this file and increase the number if the date is the same. Today is Wednesday, October 22-32. He was living in some sort of time loop, and he suspected the world as he knew it wasn’t real. There were several facts to check, which included exact positions of pens and pencils as well as a drawing of the pattern the coffee left when he finished his first cup. He read the list of things he’d figured out in the last thirty-two days. He and his co-workers were being controlled by something or someone. He’d started to hack into the corporation’s system, and after two weeks of failed attempts, Jose had found a backdoor. The last two sentences said: The song makes you sleepy. When you sleep, you forget.

  Jose had no idea what the warning meant, but he did know what a backdoor was and he had an hour before anyone else would arrive. He followed the detailed instructions until his commands slammed against a security protocol. At least he was able to see some system files, and none of them appeared to be in his journal. It was some sort of communication hub. The structure was unlike anything he’d seen before. At first glance, the files seemed to be created and removed at random, but Jose knew there was always a pattern even if you couldn’t see it at first. The system he used for his customer support job appeared to be a standard version of Windows. However, what he was in now felt more organic. If he could figure out what the machine language was for this processor, he might be able to program something to analyze the pattern. Right now, all he could do was observe. For the next hour, Jose watched the files and entered information about them in his journal.

  At the end of his shift, Jose headed to the bathroom instead of going straight to the elevator. He knew they required everyone to leave, but he wanted to stay and solve the mystery. He slipped into a stall and perched himself on the toilet seat. When the main lights went off, he stumbled his way back to his workstation. He assumed there’d be security guards, but when he thought about it he couldn’t recall ever seeing any. After an hour, no guard had appeared and Jose had logged at least a hundred more changes. He sat back and closed his tired eyes. He could make out the faint sound of a familiar song playing. Jose yawned and shook his head. He remembered the last sentence of yesterday’s entry. When you sleep, you forget.

  * * *

  Craylxz vibrated with excitement. He’d reduced the sleep wave of all the units, and they’d already attained a 50% increase in calculations. Juyk’s commander, Salar Kluyth, was coming to see unit 469. Craylxz made sure to polish his skin and scent it so that it wouldn’t offend the Salar. This visit was his moment to shine. The Salar would recognize that Craylxz was not worthless and that he deserved to be a Domar. Craylxz floated off to the side of the sphincter with his interface device ready and displaying the efficiency graphs. The telltale slurp signaled the relaxing of the sphincter and through the opening passed Salar Kluyth and Domar Juyk, followed by two officers. The Salar was slightly smaller than Juyk but held himself in such a way that he seemed twice his stature. His upper limbs were decorated in bright yellow sleeves that provided a stark contrast to his deep blue skin.

  Craylxz waited obediently to be introduced to the Salar. Instead, Juyk grabbed the interface unit from his hands and continued into the chamber.

  “As you can see, Salar, I have almost doubled the calculation capability of this chamber and all of the waveforms remain within specifications. These human brains are proving quite the asset to our mission.” Juyk handed the interface unit to Kluyth.

  Kluyth perused the graphs and charts and handed the unit back to Juyk. “Very impressive, Domar. If we can get all the chambers to perform this well, we’ll have the necessary calculations done in another forty cycles. Keep this up and you’ll be looking at a promotion.”

  Juyk bowed to the Salar, his upper limbs held out in respect. “My thanks, Salar Kluyth. The fleet must conquer.”

  “The fleet must conquer,” replied Kluyth.

  Juyk and Klutyh continued their conversation, but Craylxz didn’t hear a word. How could the Domar do this to him? The Domar hadn’t increased the efficiency, Craylxz had. Craylxz doubted that Juyk even understood what it had taken to get the units to perform and still remain in the required specifications, much less been capable of doing it himself.

  Craylxz vibrated after the entourage departed, this time in a low rumble of anger rather than excitement.

  * * *

  Jose sat down in the dark office, immediately opened the file and checked the first line. The events of the previous days were still like a dream, but they were more of a lucid dream than the type that disappears when you wake. He updated the date from October 22-36 to 22-37 and saved the file. George and the rest would be arriving soon, but they had just started to “wake up” and Jose had a new idea on how to break into the communication hub. At least he thought it was a new idea. He quickly skimmed the file for his last notes. When he was sure he hadn’t made this attempt before, he set to work.

  When George came in, Jose was staring at the screen in a cross between horror and amazement.

  “What’re you looking at, Jose? Did you find a way to hack into cable?” George set down his coffee and leaned over Jose’s shoulder. “Looks like you found some campy sci-fi show.”

  Jose scrambled to regain his composure. “Uh. What?” He didn’t know exactly wha
t he was seeing, but he definitely knew it wasn’t a cable feed. Rather than try to explain, Jose replied, “Oh, yeah, it’s some strange cable show. Maybe a re-run of a Dr. Who episode.”

  “Well, don’t let the boss see you and don’t let it affect your quota. I don’t want to be the one to make up for your sorry ass.” George picked up his coffee and headed to his workstation.

  Jose nodded. He had to figure out what he was watching soon. It wouldn’t take long for George to see the post-it about the log file and start reading it. But if what Jose saw was real, it was horrifying. A stocky, mottled green creature with skin similar to a dolphin’s floated amidst rows of hanging brains. The creature had three arms, each with three fingers. In two of the hands he held some sort of tablet that projected a vertical stream of waves and numbers. The third hand occasionally gestured, changing the content in the projected stream. Jose’s view was too far away, but the creature appeared to propel itself by expelling air puffs through large pores.

  The creature moved to one brain and gently stroked it with one of its long fingers. Jose fought to hold his breakfast down. The creature had what appeared to be eyes and a mouth on the front of him. The mouth moved as the creature petted the brain. The gesture reminded Jose of someone praising their favorite dog. As much as he wanted to continue watching to see what the creature did, Jose knew he needed to figure out what he was seeing.

  Once Jose’s teammates were all in and had read their OpenMe files, Jose went through his typical explanation for the day. They had only started waking up five days ago, but with his help they were much farther along than Jose had been at the same point. He held off telling everyone about the video feed until they were done with their shift. Most of them were able to stay awake at least an hour after quitting time, so they gathered in the conference room. Usually they went over their notes from the day, but this time Jose piped the video to the room’s monitor.