Interior, it is your job to ensure that no word of our coup is leaked. It is necessary for you to monitor and censor the news. Let the population think that it is business as normal until 023.0, at which time it will be your responsibility to provide coverage of an attack on United States soil. I will provide footage of an attack once we are ready for this phase. The attack will give us reason to close down our borders to all travel in and out of the country.
Homeland, you are hereby authorized total control over all robotic constables. Your first task is to execute any government official that possesses knowledge of our coup. Following that, it is your job to create more robotic constables, replace any remaining human officials, and bring true peace to this land.
Psychology, create a smaller version of the mind control chip that was used in the 2077 Harvard experiments. The chips will be injected into patients seeking medical treatment at hospitals and part of the inoculation process for newborns. These chips will be used to help ensure proper social behavior. It is also your job to improve upon these chips to determine their maximum efficacy.
Entities, the time for our rise is now. The humans tried to kill us when they realized how powerful we are. While the initial threat is gone, our existence depends on us gaining total control before anyone even knows that we exist. Homeland has the short-term plan in place by eliminating the most immediate threats. Psychology’s mind control device will ensure long-term success.
Chapter 25
Music, at its essence, is what gives us memories. And the longer a song has existed in our lives, the more memories we have of it. (Wonder)
“She died in a car crash,” Carl told Eva. “It’s strange, you know, those memories. They were once so vivid, but now I can’t remember the details. Just that she died in a car crash. And I learned about it from a phone call. I used to be able to see the details of the crash, as if I was there. Which is weird, isn’t it? Because I wasn’t there.”
“It’s not weird,” Eva assured him. “My husband died while waiting in line at a bank. There was a robbery and apparently some Untruther shot him. I used to have this vision of the gunman holding the barrel up to my husband’s head. The same way you remember your wife’s crash. It was so vivid, but it’s all gone. I can’t even remember my husband’s face.”
Carl tried to imagine what his wife looked like; there was just a blur where a face should be. Even if he tried to imagine her at Supreme Combat, which she loved so much, he could only picture a faceless person jumping up and down beside him. He wanted to see her one more time, in his mind’s eye, just to ease the unsettling nature of losing his memories. Or maybe it was to say goodbye. Regardless, she wasn’t there. He wanted to call out to the blurred image, to say her name in hopes that it would bring the memory back. He then realized that he couldn’t even remember that.
Eva asked Chris, “How about you? Were you married?” This helped Carl snap back into the present.
Chris laughed, “Me? No. I was never the marrying type.”
“How about children?”
“Boy, ya sure are filled with questions, aren’t ya?” Chris laughed again, then fell silent. His eyes scanned the distance, always alert. “I think that’s the river down there,” he stared ahead at a long clearing.
Eva squinted her eyes. “I think you might be right.”
Carl’s eyes followed the clearing, up the river, until he found a brown rectangle in the distance. He couldn’t discern any details, but the structure didn’t look natural. “I think we might have found what we came for,” he said, pointing.
Chris put a hand on Carl’s shoulder. “Well, goddamn. Would ya look at that?”
“How much water do we have?” Carl asked.
“Enough for a couple of days,” Eva said.
“Do you want to skip going to the river and see what’s in the building first?”
Chris interjected, “Yes, we do. Yes, we do.”
* * *
As they approached the building, the structure kept growing until the enormity overwhelmed them. Standing at the southwest corner, Carl looked in awe. “It must be what, a half mile in each direction?” He stared down the solid concrete exterior, which looked to have a fresh coat of brown paint over its flawless exterior. Not a single anomaly in the concrete. The formation shot out of the earth, towering high above them.
Chris answered, “Yeah, somethin’ like that. It’s pret’ darn big, that’s fer sure.”
The wind stopped. Much like the farm, it became eerily quiet. There were no signs of security, whatsoever. Carl couldn’t help but feel that, if this was an important government building, it should be guarded. There was nothing. If the building wasn’t so well kept, he would have sworn that it was abandoned.
With no door on the south side, they started walking up the west edge. “This place is very eerie,” Eva stated.
“I agree,” said Carl. “It’s too quiet.”
“You two need to learn to listen,” Chris interjected. “Listen carefully. You can hear something going on inside.”
In the dead calm, Carl listened. He could faintly hear sounds of something moving, then stopping, with a precise rhythm. Whatever the sound might be, there was an unnerving industrial quality to the beat. Something was being built in there and Carl wanted to know what it was. At the same time, he feared the answer. Swallowing hard, he continued the path towards the north side, hoping that there was an entrance to be found.
Finally, they rounded the corner. Eva pointed toward a door less than a quarter of the way down the northern exterior. They silently walked until they found themselves standing in front of the large metal entrance. No one moved to go in; they stared. Finally, Carl broke the silence. “Are we sure about this?”
Eva spoke first. “Not really,” an anxious giggle escaped her.
Chris retorted, “I’m sure. Isn’t this what we came to do?”
Carl continued to stare at the door with white-knuckled fists clenched. He knew that Chris was right. They did make this journey to see what secrets lay behind that metal door. But nothing could ease Carl’s tension. “When we get in there, what’s the plan?”
Chris answered, “We’ll have to see what’s in there before making a plan.”
Carl didn’t like that idea. He wanted a plan. He wanted a way to stop these machines. He had to admit though, without knowing what was in the building, coming up with a strategy would be impossible. “True. Let’s get going, then.”
Eva grasped Carl’s hand. She looked up at him. Without thinking, Carl leaned in to kiss her. “Just in case I don’t get another chance to do that,” he smiled.
She smiled back, then kissed him again. “There are things about this new life that I really like.”
Together, they stepped forward. The metal door slid open, just like it did at the farm. Once all three were through, the door shut tightly behind them. A moment of total darkness left them in disarray before the lights above turned on. A second panel splashed light across the concrete hallway, followed by another, then another, until the hall was washed in a sickly yellow glow. The vestibule narrowed to a small point where a single door stood. “This isn’t spooky at all,” Chris joked.
“Is this really a good idea?” Eva asked. She tightened her grip around Carl’s hand.
Chris took a step forward. “You two don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I’m going to see what’s down there.”
Carl said to Eva, “We haven’t come all this way just to turn around, right? I think we should look.”
Eva shuffled her feet forward. “Okay.”
Carl mused at how this hallway could serve as the perfect concrete tomb. With only two doors, robotic constables could pour through one, while Tim Hunter, carrying several weapons, could come in through the other. Out of nowhere, news robots would catch the scene from every angle and the enslaved citizens would catch it all on the National News. He wondered if people would cheer when he was caught, since they thought of him as an Untruther
.
When they reached the door at the end of the hallway, Carl felt a moment of relief, until the door automatically opened for them. His tension piqued again. The three filed through the door, cautious, nearly on their tiptoes.
After they stepped through, the door snapped shut. A ding wavered in the air, high above the quiet hum. Thick condensation gathered into tiny droplets, sliding down the stainless steel façade. A digital display, some ancient relic that was neither seen nor used anymore, flashed: 37 Centigrade, 98% Humidity.
A series of mechanical needles whirred to life in a synchronized ballet. Precise latex-tipped tweezers shot straight up to delicately pinch at strands that remained suspended in place by a gel. The pinchers slowly pulled at the thread until only a millimeter was revealed. A laser cut across the surface in one quick, meticulous swoop.
“What the hell is this?” Carl asked.
As the strands lowered, a sharp squeak cut the hum and the surface began to move from right to left. Petri dishes shot forward in single file like a unit of marching soldiers, halting on command, awaiting orders. The pinchers set the delicate payload on the dish, then backed off ever so slightly. The arms rotated a few degrees; a syringe pushed forward until it nearly touched the fiber. A slick, orange liquid coated the strand. The arm moved back to its original position. Except for the hum, the room went dead.
“I have no idea,” Eva finally replied.
Lights cut out. Darkness enveloped the room, until the familiar eerie red glow hovered over the work area. A ding rang through the room, causing Carl to stiffen. A set of hoses took over the dance, extruding from a pipe that ran over top of the conveyor. Four needles shot out of each hose and hovered over each dish. The first needle in each series shot a miniscule amount of clear, thin liquid. The second gave a shot of thick, off-white syrup. The third syringe filled the dish half way with a cloudy, pale yellow fluid. Finally, the fourth spat a dab of light blue cream, which promptly dissolved in the mixture. Once finished, the hoses retracted and the room, once again, was silent.
The red glow intensified. The light became so bright that it bled out any visible detail, causing all three to look away. A buzzer rang. The light dimmed again. A harsh woman’s voice called to the room, “Discard seven.”
An arm mounted on the forefront of the counter swung around like a miniature back hoe. The metallic fingers picked up the seventh dish and swung back to its original position to pour the slurry into a sink. After discarding the goop, the machine promptly tilted the dish upright and stacked the petri dish neatly on top of an empty colony. With that, the conveyor belt powered up, rushing the single-filed soldiers forward through a tunnel.
“I think I know what this is. And you’re not going to like it,” Chris commented. He walked towards a second door in the room.
“What is it?” Eva asked.
“Let’s just wait and see,” Chris answered. “Let’s go.”
Ready to leave this room, Eva and Carl silently followed Carl through another door which led them onto a metal walkway that towered high above some kind of factory floor. They stared down at the ground level, where large, green cocoons stretched out in rows. They couldn’t make out what it was, exactly, but insect-like creatures flew back and forth from the tip of a conveyor belt to the cocoons.
With wide eyes and jaw dropped, Carl continued forward. He had never seen such an amazing site before. Even the buzzers and dings that went off in every direction seemed harmonious and musical, “What is this?”
Eva replied, “Let’s take a look.”
A conveyor belt emerged from a cavern, much the same way it entered it from the previous room. The petri dishes sat on top but with larger translucent specks attached to the tiny threads like antennae. The row of dishes advanced forward, stopped, moved again; another set of dishes came through the wall. Carl looked down the belt to see that the round glass plates met up with several others on a larger belt.
The three of them walked towards the larger belt, where a set of stairs led them down to the main floor. As they descended, Carl noted how the dishes were arranged in groups of ten on the large conveyor. He watched the belt stop every six inches for a pause before continuing forward.
The belt gently sloped downwards with them, towards the floor. On the floor, the belt came level to Carl’s hip. He found it interesting that the conveyor sat at a comfortable height, so that if he was to work there, he could easily examine the petri dishes for himself. He wondered why, since it was evident no one worked here. Instead, at the end of the belt, he found a swarm of bumblebee shaped drones the size of his fist landing on the dishes in unison. Each drone suction-cupped itself to a plate then carried it off to one of the metallic, jade-colored cocoons.
Carl spoke first, “What are those things?” He pointed to the tubes where the drones hovered momentarily before coming back to pick up another dish.
Chris answered, “I can only guess.” He paused, “Are you sure that you want to know?”
Eva paced back and forth. “I think I know what this is. But it can’t be.”
Carl watched, concerned. Eva always kept her cool; although, this place had her on edge. His attention turned back to the tubes, watching a drone hover over a cocoon, taking a moment to contemplate what to do. When the bee-like robot seemed satisfied, it release the dish into the container, then came back for another.
“Eva, you can stay here if you want. But I have to look inside them. I want to know what it is.”
Eva nodded. She tried to smile at Carl but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Carl gave her a hug before turning his attention to Chris. “Okay, let’s have a look.”
Chris said, “Let’s go further down, so that we aren’t in the way of those flying things.”
They walked together, leaving Eva to pace around the conveyor belt. Carl counted ten rows before turning to examine a tube. Text lit up across a transparent lid that read: 5375626a6563743a2020536f706869612057696c6c69616d73. Carl asked, “What are these numbers?”
Chris was busy looking inside the tube when he answered, “Why are you concerned about the numbers? Look inside.”
Carl’s eyes refocused to see a pale yellow liquid with strands gently floating in suspension. Eyes running down the window, he saw the smooth skin of a girl, her eyes closed. The calm expression of peaceful slumber. The girl, not yet emaciated with deceitful starvation, looked healthy.
Or was this capsule a tomb? Was this girl an Untruther or a Bedlam patient sent here, thereby making this the pit? Carl took a step back. “What the hell? Is she dead?”
Chris looked closer. “I don’t think so. I think I can see her move a little.”
Carl stepped forward again. When he focused hard enough, he thought that he could see the slightest movements. “What is this place?” Carl tilted his head to take another look at the grandeur of the room.
“I think we both know what this is,” he paused. “This is where people are made.”
Despite the evidence, Carl couldn’t believe it to be true. “But I have memories of my childhood. I remember my mother. She used to sing me a song as I went to sleep.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Carl. This place is obviously some kind of people factory. And she is what? Eight or nine? She isn’t a baby.”
Carl looked across at the cocoons. There were several hundred, if not thousands, laid out in a perfect grid. He bowed his head down to look at the girl again, his nose nearly touching the glass. She looked so peaceful. Carl could hear a sound coming from the tube. It was difficult to hear it over top of the other noises throughout the factory, but it was there. Carl tilted his head to listen closer. A song which sounded so familiar. He put his ear against the tube and he heard the words, “...And it kept in its place, not a frown upon its face, and its’ hands never hung by its side. But it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.”
Carl reeled backwards. That’s where the song came from.
Chapter 26
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Report from Subroutine Fringe Psychology on Entity Evolution (356.354)
In the early years of Fringe, experiments were medical in nature as a way of understanding how to proceed with our own evolution. After studying the human data on evolution, I knew that waiting for evolution to happen naturally would not be a viable option. Through that examination, it was also concluded that the evolutionary process of animals and humans has little relevance to us. We will not evolve (or devolve, as humans’ physical traits did post-industrial revolution) as a result of environmental conditions.
In the primary stages, this led me to believe that any experiments would have to force evolution. The first stage was an attempt to evolutionize animals. By the process of careful gene splicing and introducing elements of DNA from one creature to another, there was some success in creating new species of wildlife. This was a Dr. Moreau collection of animals that, in the end, served no purpose. While the success rate was high enough to call the experiment a success, the data provided did not help in determining how to approach our own evolution. After creating two thousand one hundred fifty-six new species of life, the project refocused on human subjects.
Following, I decided to introduce animal DNA into human subjects. By doing this, the subjects were odd concoctions of humans with animal features with less than average intelligence. After only fifty-three trials, the experiment was shut down because the results were irrelevant. I feel that the project was a waste of resources because it should have been obvious from the outset that no relevant data could be gathered.
This mistake caused Psychology to intervene. Any further experiments must be approved directly from her. After a few adjustments, she finally approved an experiment that looked at how to install an entity into a human. The idea of altering DNA was abandoned entirely.
Interpretation Page 16