The details of the ticket explained the procedure to install the upgrade but Joel skipped them, as it was basic knowledge that had been drilled into his mind in tech school. Attached, he found a small binary file.
“So I guess you got it, huh?” Martin asked.
“Yeah sure, go back to saving the world or whatever,” Joel replied with a smirk. The upgrade would keep him busy for at least an hour. Martin nodded and put the headphones back on.
On his screen, Joel removed the binary file from the ticket and copied it to his desktop terminal then started up the power grid emulator. It wasn’t a perfect piece of software but it was still useful enough to test making changes to such a critical infrastructure subsystem without risking damaging real hardware. The emulator finished loading then he fed it the file. A progress bar filled up within seconds then Joel compared the new setup to the old one.
“This is weird,” Joel commented. Annoyed, Martin removed the headphones again then looked at him.
“What is it?” he asked.
“This firmware upgrade doesn’t make any meaningful changes,” replied Joel as his coworker stood up and approached again. “Here…” Joel pointed to log entries on the screen. “And here. It changed some minor logic paths but other than that, the emulated black box remains unaffected.”
“Yes, and?” Martin asked.
“I don’t want to mess with the real black box if the upgrade doesn’t merit doing so.”
“Come on man,” said Martin then chuckled. “This is a Controller level request. Looks like she got the upgrade from her buddy over at Francisco Citadel. You really think you know better than them?”
“All I’m saying is, you don’t want to potentially bring down any critical systems. This is, after all, the only power source we got. She expects us to upgrade black box firmware without patch notes, source code or changelog?”
“Look,” Martin replied. “The only reason she opened a support ticket in the first place is simply because of the network-isolated nature of the black box. Otherwise she would have done it without us ever noticing. All she needs is for someone to grab a memory stick, load the binary in it then plug it in a black box socket. Maybe you expected her to grace us with her presence and take care of the upgrade herself?”
“Yeah right,” Joel scoffed. “A surfacer, down here? And not just any surfacer but the princess herself? That’ll be the day.”
Martin shrugged and walked away. “Well, you want me to take care of it?”
“Nah, it’s alright. I need to stretch.”
“You got it, boss,” said Martin who once again went back to sit at his desk but this time he didn’t put on the headphones as if expecting Joel to interrupt his game again at any moment.
Joel grabbed a memory stick from his desk and plugged it on the computer. While file integrity checks ran, he stood up and grabbed a small wooden box from his workbench and opened it. Inside, there was a compact pair of goggles that at first glance appeared to be sport glasses with an earbud on its right temple tip. Handling them with great care, Joel put them on and pushed a small concealed button on the bridge. The earbud played diagnostic beeps as the microscopic computer in the goggles booted up. In front of his eyes small projectors built into the frame injected augmented reality data straight to his retinas. As the tiny onboard computer booted up, self-diagnostics ran and their result appeared in his field of view. Eventually the boot sequence was finished and the auglens was ready for use.
“Testing one two three,” Joel said as he pushed a button on the side of the auglens and faced his coworker.
“Copy loud and clear,” Martin replied from a radio on his desk.
The heads-up display showed Joel a variety of information pertaining to items in his surroundings with crude low resolution green text. From the model of the computers on their desks and their current health status to an emergency evacuation route marked by blinking green arrows on the floor. Joel confirmed the memory stick was ready then pulled it off the computer and put it in one of his front pockets. He chuckled at the auglens putting labels on menial items like chair and desk.
“Hey buddy, can you turn off all auglens information layers except for power grid maintenance?” Joel asked of Martin who nodded in agreement and typed on his keyboard. One by one the layers went away until Joel had a clear view.
“Alright, I’ll cry for help on the radio if I break my neck or something.” Joel said as he grabbed his denim jacket from the chair and made for the exit.
Martin chuckled over the radio. “Have fun, boss,” he replied.
Joel stepped out of the engineering shop which from the outside looked like a large steel box embedded on a wall of the natural cavern. The shop was one of the dozens spread through the engineering levels directly above the massive array of capacitors which in turn were buried beneath the Citadel’s central bastion. As he walked down the metal walkway extending from the door to the elevator station some twenty yards away, Joel wondered just how deep the cave was and how far would he fall if the old, rusted walkway broke. The damp, cold air, strong with the smell of earth, reminded him to button up his jacket and put his hands in the front pockets to warm them up. Eventually, he walked inside the elevator box and pushed the button for the lowest level then entered his passcode. A light turned green and the elevator’s mechanisms came to life, closing its steel mesh doors and lowering him to the darkness below.
The elevator hummed with the monotonous sound of its motor, interrupted every now and then by occasional metallic clangs. Status indicators on the auglens HUD showed the drop in temperature and distance from the surface. For some reason, Joel recalled Martin suggesting that a surfacer would willingly go down Citadel sublevels then chuckled when he imagined them paralyzed in place by claustrophobia or dismayed at the sight of their clean, well-kempt clothes blemished with rust and dirt from inadvertently touching the ancient steel structures. There was no good reason for the elites of the Citadel to ever go down and see for themselves how people lived in the alleys. Then he realized that was probably why he and Martin were kept around, if only to take care of the dirty jobs the Controller couldn’t bother herself to do.
Eventually, the elevator arrived at its final destination, the Citadel reactor chamber. On the auglens, the indicators displayed 11 degrees Celsius for temperature and 502 meters for depth. The chain link doors opened and Joel stepped out.
Every time he went down to the natural cave that housed the reactor core felt like the first day on the job some ten years back when finally, after all the hard work put into doing well in the aptitude tests paid off and his dream of becoming a power grid engineer had been fulfilled. Simply gazing at the marvelous piece of technology sent shivers down his spine. The cave was different from other Citadel subterranean structures. The hundreds of stalactites that hung from its ceiling at least fifty feet away set it apart as a natural formation. The side walls were lined with racks of computer equipment from before the sync incident. Several workstations, desks and observation stations were arranged so they faced the far end of the cave. And against the far wall stood the reactor core. A massive chrome sphere that defied the pull of gravity, floating a foot away from a slightly elevated steel platform. About twenty feet in diameter, its upper half was surrounded by eight steel rails that were suspended from a base behind the platform. Four on each side, they ran from behind the sphere to its front, never touching but hanging about a foot from it. Every now and then, electric arcs would jump between the impossible sphere and the rails. Joel knew that powerful electromagnets embedded in the rails were used to capture radiation emanating from it but to him they had always looked like giant, ominous metal fingers that kept the chrome sphere in place.
Suddenly, Joel snapped out of it and took a step back, disturbed. As much as he admired the almost magical construct, for a moment his mind had drifted away. He had felt lost in the perfect mirror-like surface of the orb which reflected the dim lighting of the cave. Shaking his head, he conclu
ded he was imagining things and returned his mind to the task at hand. Clutching the small memory stick in his front jacket pocket, he took a deep breath and walked towards the reactor. His lungs ejected condensed clouds. The closer he got to it, the colder it got. A vague memory of a geography lesson from tech school crept up in his mind, reminding him that at such depth, the temperature of the cave was supposed to be in the hundreds of degrees Celsius. But the sphere appeared to regulate it and instead dropped little by little. Halfway through the cave, the auglens reported 10 degrees. As he got closer, he glanced at the equipment rack behind the platform against the wall then cursed himself for not grabbing his HEM suit. The denim fiber jacket was nowhere near good enough for staying warm in that cave. Walking past the rows of powered-off workstations facing the sphere, he wondered how long had people been working there, overseeing reactor activity until it got too cold to bear. Eventually, he reached the steel platform and walked past it, glancing at the sphere on his right side.
The rack where the black box was didn’t look much different from the rest. It was a simple aluminum network rack painted black. About eye level high, the black box was mounted on standard network rails. There was nothing remarkable about the fifteen-inch cube with several high-speed fiber cables running from jacks on its side to patch panels above. Except no one knew how it worked. The term “black box” fit it perfectly. A brilliant team of engineers had come up with its design to manage how power generated by the reactor was routed to the capacitor matrix several sublevels above. But they were long gone now. As much as he had asked his teachers, mentors and coworkers, no one appeared to understand it. Just like the reactor itself, the black box was pretty much a mystery. And now the lady Sommers wanted to mess with it.
Sighing, he pulled out the memory stick and plugged it in a free port on top, next to the network jacks. An indicator on the side lit up for a few seconds then blinked regularly.
“Martin, can you hear me?” Joel said as he pushed the button on the side of the auglens.
“Loud and clear, boss,” Martin replied, his voice slightly distorted by interference.
“The memory stick is in,” Joel said. “I’m about to start firmware upgrade.”
“Got it, I’m monitoring from up here.”
Joel then pushed the buttons above the memory stick socket on the black box with a certain combination that triggered the stick to be read by it. Four status lights lit up for a few seconds then went off, while the first one in the row blinked rapidly.
“Applying upgrade,” Joel reported.
“Logged,” Martin replied.
After a moment, the first light remained solid then the second one blinked.
“25 percent copied,” Joel reported again.
“Logg—“ Martin replied in turn but his voice was cut off by static.
“Hello, Martin?” Joel tried again but when he let go of the button on the auglens, there was only static. Disappointed, he realized the communications module of the complex tool was busted. At least environmental detection still worked and its crude display continued to show data from his surroundings. Then again, he felt like looking at the reactor core. He knew there was a task at hand but almost as if conceding control of himself to some unknown power commanding him, he turned around and walked to the edge of the steel pedestal so he stood directly underneath the sphere.
The mirror-like surface of the polished object reflected a distorted image of the natural cave. Against all self-preservation instincts, he suddenly reached for it with his right hand. His fingers touched the surface and created ridges around its circumference. Amazed, Joel realized the sphere was not just floating there, static, but rather it was spinning at an incredible speed. He smiled and moved his hand up and down, changing the pattern. When he pulled back, the sphere would take a few seconds to return to perfection. Mesmerized, he touched it again, this time pulling out rapidly, causing some of the material that composed it to separate and float there while the auglens struggled to identify it and gave up by simply labeling it ‘Unknown Element’.
There was an unconscious need to gaze at the chrome perfection of the Citadel reactor. And an even stronger, almost desperate drive to reach for it. Confident of the apparent safety of touching, he took one more step. The lower side of the object was above him, just inches away from his face. Then he lifted his right hand again and rapidly sunk it in the unknown substance. While the auglens had failed to identify whatever strange material it composed it, from that up close and with his arm creating a larger ridge, he could see it was a cloud formed by probably millions of tiny beads. At the speed the sphere was spinning, his arm should have been sanded down to the bone from friction but all he could feel was a strange warmth surrounding it. Suddenly, he felt his body being pulled inside. In a panic, he snapped out of the trance and pulled the arm out so fast he fell on the floor.
With a clear mind, he realized he could have died just then and there. His arm was still covered by the unknown substance which eventually separated from him then slowly floated back to rejoin the sphere which became perfect again as if nothing had happened.
“Status?” Martin asked through the garbled radio link, startling Joel who glanced at the black box where all four indicator lights were solid.
“One hundred percent,” he replied then stood up while his heart raced and his mind struggled to understand what had just happened.
“Logged,” Martin replied. “Running diagnostics but so far systems appear stable.”
Leaning against one of the dead computer terminals, Joel looked down and took a deep breath to control himself and said “say, Martin?”
“Yes, boss?”
“Did I lose you there for a second?”
“Yeah, some kind of static interference but it’s gone now.”
“Okay,” Joel said as he looked around the cave, feeling as if he was being observed. “I’m coming up there in a moment.”
“Sure thing, boss. Wake me up when you get here.”
Joel scoffed and walked back to the black box then pulled out the memory stick which he placed in his pocket. He took glances at the equipment there, letting the auglens gather feedback from the mainframe and checking all systems were green. When he was satisfied, he turned around just to see the massive chrome sphere floating there. But its call was gone. No longer did he feel under the spell to touch it. At that moment, he decided, he wanted to be as far away as possible from there and he hurried back to the elevator. Once inside the box, he pushed the button without turning back and stood there wishing the old motor would move faster.
Alexia
CLOSE TO SEVEN hours later, Alexia regained consciousness. First, she would experience a slight sleep paralysis as the brain struggled to return to normal motor and sensory functionality. Her sense of touch reminded her she was still floating in the salt water that filled the isolation chamber. Gradually, she was able to open her eyes which gave her a fuzzy, disoriented view of the ceiling. The top panels of the chamber were opened, letting in instrumental music that was being played in the lab speakers. Mark was standing outside reading something on his tablet when he noticed she was awake.
“Good morning, sunshine!” he said, appearing in her field of view. She returned the greeting by slowly blinking at him.
It was too early after waking up to attempt to move any other part of her body or even talk for that matter. Her cerebral cortex first had to shake off Aurora’s takeover completely. It was a relaxing, almost meditative experience to feel her senses return little by little. As far she understood, convergence events stimulated a large release of dopamine in her brain which translated to a sort of euphoric state of tranquility, further enhanced by the calm harmony of musical instruments in the background. Waiting for her body to fully wake up, she floated in place with eyes closed and a serene smile.
About an hour later, Alexia felt the dopamine rush wearing off little by little and her limbs going back to normal which was the signal to get out of the ch
amber. Slowly, she reached for its sides and pulled herself up. Cold saltwater ran down her hair. Some of it made it to her face so she closed her eyes to avoid the sting and wiped it off with one hand.
“Careful,” Mark said as he grabbed her arm to help her out onto the step stool. He then handed her a robe she put on immediately to warm herself up.
“Thanks,” she almost whispered, her voice trembling from slight hypothermia. Another technician joined the effort and together, they helped her to the chair in her workstation.
“So, how are you feeling? Mark asked, standing by the cubicle.
“Good, thanks,” Alexia replied lazily.
“Well, everything went as expected,” he said as he handed the glasses back to her. “We confirmed the convergence event was completed and I even saw in the wireless interface stream that you opened a ticket with engineering as soon as it finished. You must be exhausted!”
Alexia looked at him wondering if he really didn’t know that controlling the Citadel was done at such a subconscious level she wouldn’t even notice it. Moreover, she could not keep track of time passed while in the coma-state of a convergence event and she would wake up energized and fully rested. At least Aurora seemed to have taken care of applying whatever power grid optimization her counterpart over at Francisco Citadel had devised.
“You’re right,” she smiled at him as she put the glasses back on. “I’m going to go relax for a little.” Mark returned the smile, nodded then went back to his workstation.
“See you tomorrow, Alexia. Have a good one,” he said from there.
Pushing herself up slowly to test her balance, Alexia stood up and took a few steps on her own. The floor felt stable enough for her to go back to the private locker room. It was inconvenient that the locker did not have washing facilities but her apartment was just a short elevator ride away so she didn’t mind the salty smell of dried water all over her body even after changing out of the thermal suit. Once again, she was back to wearing the familiar lab uniform that had been her only choice of attire from the day she graduated from Controller training all those years before. As she finished buttoning it up, she felt the strange need to look at the door where she barely managed to catch a glimpse of Aurora walking away down the corridor.
Gestalt Prime Page 4