The Escapement Mechanism, Part 19
Utsab was lost in technical minutiae, talking over her head as he did when rolling around a difficult problem. He slapped the desk. “I think I can solve it with the cluster in the Frances lab. I just need access to the computer, and I think I can solve it. The equations are all multivariable, and I can’t predict how they all interact, but it doesn’t matter. I thought it did, but this is just a check, see...” he moved his hand around like he was controlling a mouse, and stared at the screen as if it showed something other than the black login prompt.
“Utsab. Utsab, I can’t see.”
He looked confused, and then embarrassed. “Oh shit, I forgot.” He glanced around madly, found a pad of paper and started to write one of the equations from the escapement mechanism that they had been manipulating without success for weeks.
“This isn’t the model. It’s just a test.” Utsab was writing fast, his “u”s and “v”s in the derivatives indistinguishable to Wemly. “It’s like whoever created this knew what the equations to test an effective model should be. That’s what the screen is for, to test whatever model to ensure it works before it can be loaded.” He reached for his Coke, but found it empty. “It’s just a safety check. We need to load a new model.” He gestured at the top of the screen like it was garbage.
“We’ve just been playing with the tests,” said Wemly, understanding immediately. “The answers won’t change.” It was clear that behavioural modifications and intense experiences could not take them any farther. “How do we make a new model?”
The Frances lab operated one of the top 100 supercomputers in the world. Utsab and Wemly sat crowded around the single desk in the access room next to the server racks. It sat unadorned, save for two monitors and a keyboard, with peeling laminate that caught on the clothes of anyone that brushed too close. A switch full of ethernet cables sat duct-taped to its back, and they spread like errant hairs across the small space, haphazardly taped down to the brown and orange checked carpet without any sheathing or conduit protection.
Ada, a student neither of them had previously met, stood bored in the corner scrolling on her phone. She was technically required to be in the room while they accessed the infrastructure visible through the vast picture window the desk faced; rumours claimed it was bulletproof.
Utsab sat in the roller chair and Wemly leaned on its back, blocking some of the glare from the overhead fluorescents. Despite being the go-to person for novel hardware and weird computer edge-cases, he could not get the escapement mechanism to interface with the lab’s computer system.
“Try to fake a new peripheral,” said Wemly. It annoyed her that she could not see the windows the device formed for Utsab.
“I have.”
“Then let me try.”
Utsab never liked to admit defeat, but the request coincided with his reaching for an empty can of Coke.
“Fine,” he said, and peeled the escapement mechanism from his neck before leaving the room for another refreshment. Wemly wiped the smooth surface of the device against her shirt and fit it into place. At first, they used alcohol wipes to sanitize the mechanism between users, but now Wemly attached the slightly clammy device directly without giving it a second thought. Regardless of its use or handling, it maintained a constant temperature.
The first thing Wemly attempted was the last thing Utsab said he tried. It didn’t work. She scanned for near-field communication patterns, and browsed the sub-menus of the interface, all things she had done before and to the same results. What she really needed was a direct connection to the supercomputer terminal. She leaned back in the uncomfortable chair, eyes unfocused on the windowpane and flashing blue lights of the server racks beyond, and imagined one more neglected cable roping out of the ethernet switch and into the base of her neck, like some cybernetic jewelry.
A new window popped up in the escapement mechanism interface titled, “New Device Discovered.” Wemly leaned over the keyboard so quickly her lower-back spasmed, and typed the command for a device scan as fast as she had ever typed anything. The Frances lab server showed a new entry, visible simply as EM at 192.168.3.17.
Wemly ran the command again. It wasn’t a mistake. The physical server recognized a device she could only interact with through her mind.
“Ada,” Wemly said. “What does this say?” She tried to keep her voice level, but the urgency compelled Ada to put her phone away before the request had been fully uttered. Ada leaned over and read back the IP address and device name. It wasn’t all in her head.
The File menu on the New Device window had a single option, “Model Dump”. Wemly clicked it, and entered her home directory on the server when prompted. Utsab had just stepped into the room when she finalized the command. Immediately, a pain so jagged tore through her head that she was sure she had been electrocuted. When the burning white of her vision faded, she found Utsab standing over her, and the checked pattern of the carpet and its sour smell filling her senses. The escapement mechanism was in her hand.
“Jesus, are you okay?” asked Utsab.
“Yeah,” Wemly managed, although she didn’t feel like moving. “Who’s that?” she asked.
Utsab swallowed and gave an uncomfortable glance towards Ada. “What happened?”
“Nothing, I mean, she was just typing, and then she dove out of her chair screaming. I mean, you were here. I don’t know. I didn’t do anything, okay?” Ada sounded like a perpetually put-upon graduate student.
“Okay, okay,” Utsab said quickly. He turned back to Wemly. “Did you touch the power bar or something?”
Wemly tried to recall, but every attempt at remembrance slipped into the giant hole that now occupied the center of her mind before she could make sense of it. Oh God, I fried my brain was the one coherent thought she managed.
What had she done? More importantly, what had she been doing? Never had such a simple question perplexed her so thoroughly. How did one know what they remembered? Wasn’t it the most vacuous...?
And suddenly it all came flooding back. Whatever hole existed in her memory was instantly filled and overflowing with with her accomplishment.
“I did it,” she said simply, and pushed herself into a sitting position. “I did it.”