The Escapement Mechanism, Prologue 3
Tan uniform. A body that would have fit it comfortably two years ago. The optimistic hubris of the day's test subject. Carl---a middle-manager that Gerty hoped to never see again. His last name already forgotten, even though it was at the top of the form she was prompting him to sign.
Even James, her supervisor, couldn't fully suppress his amusement as he listened to Carl recite his accomplishments.
"Know who cut down the total page count to 142 on the most recent yearly mess hall summary? You're lookin' at 'em."
James just nodded and hid behind the haze of his cigarette.
The tests had been going fine, but the tendency of participants to omit "likely behaviours" had become a serious security concern. Espionage was great, but top-secret information without any accountability was beginning to worry the top executives.
Carl was waiting obediently for Gerty to hand him the escapement mechanism. She assumed his aw-shucks demeanor meant he was a complete deviant in the loop. People could surprise you. And so could the device.
Gerty had intentionally hid two of her own experiences. And they were the ones the research team would be most interested in. She had to assume others were doing the same, based on the horrid things they were willing to admit. But no one had mentioned the device communicating with them. Not even Officer Vandermeer. Yet, the escapement mechanism had communicated with her---engaged her in conversation.
"Almost your turn," said Gerty to Carl. He was practically wetting his pants. She picked up the device from the towel, and demonstrated its simple function, of which he had already been briefed. "It goes on the back of your neck, like this." Gerty pulled her hair out of the way, and walked in front of him so he could see.
James caught Gerty's eye, but didn't say anything. She was breaking protocol. The subject was the only one supposed to handle the device.
Gerty drew a breath and held it. She imagined the breath being released, and no one being the wiser as to what had transpired in between. The reality would be much graver, but she tried to force negative thoughts from her mind. In the aftermath of what she was about to do, she wasn't sure she would even know what a breath was.
The time for pondering was over. She held her finger over the pulsing light of the escapement mechanism and felt the shiver of the device activating.
"Hey, what the fuck," said James when he realized what she had done. But Gerty was prepared. The sequence of events had replayed in her head so many times, that when she found herself in the middle of actualizing them, she was giddy at how easily they unfolded. People didn't do things because they were conditioned to think they couldn't; adherence to societal expectations was a weak glue.
A sidearm specifically sourced for the experiment lay on the table, to reinforce that nothing was off limits with the device activated. Gerty had it in her hands before additional objections to her behaviour could be raised. Two sharp cracks. A ringing that was some level of permanent hearing damage.
James and Carl were both sprawled in growing pools of blood. James had twisted as he fell and Gerty couldn't help seeing the damage that standard issue weapons caused when they exited the back of a head. She stepped carefully over the carnage and out the door.
The office staff had been briefed on what to expect. They wouldn't remember dying if it came to that, but the fear of that potential outcome usually caused them to vacate the area before testing began.
"Carl shot him! Go! He told me to get out if I didn't want to be next," Gerty shouted to the lone private manning the front desk. She thought her panic sounded like an obvious performance, but the private was stricken with fear.
"I think we should take the stairs."
Gerty made sure the escapement mechanism was hidden under her hair before badging in to the high performance computer lab. Neil was, as usual, at the nearest terminal, hovering over a Styrofoam cup of coffee.
"How's that new interface coming?" he asked when he saw Gerty, either forgetting or not caring that the state of Officer Vandermeer made any alteration currently impossible.
Gerty brushed the question aside. "We have a problem. They want to disable the device."
Neil was incensed. "Are those fuckers upstairs trying to shut us down? For real? Fuck them. Let them try. They can't delete anything."
"No, but they can make you and the Commander do it together."
"No they can't! Worst they can do is move the code off the device, but we've already got backups. And any move necessarily creates a backup on the server, so if any dumbfuck tries to get rid of anything, they're just propagating copies."
"Could Vandermeer have made a copy somewhere else?"
The state of Officer Vandermeer apparently finally registered. Neil's eyes went wide. "No way. It was a wireless transfer, but we still needed double-authorization."
"I mean somewhere else. Could he have copied it somewhere else?"
"No way. The file was too big. And interfacing with it was a bitch. Still not sure how he got the model off. Said he visualized the transfer or some bullshit, but we still set everything up."
"So no backdoor you guys slipped in or---"
"Not on this baby. I practically had to get divorced to work on this project because they didn't think I could keep my mouth shut. Which is true. I run this whole shit cage." He gestured vaguely at the room full of computers and cooling equipment. "But even I couldn't go rogue."
Gerty must have tensed at the term. Neil was brash, but also one of the most perceptive people she had ever met. "Wait. What the fuck are you trying to do?"
"Just trying to get that interface polished," she said, and was back out into the blinding sun of midday before he could ask any follow-up questions.
Gerty was laid out on a standard issue couch. It never ceased to amuse her that such a thing existed. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, opening her eyes on breaths 11, 13, and 17. The voice returned as she had been assured it would. The voice. That's how she'd come to think of it, but it felt more like her own thoughts. Ones she didn't like having.
"Can I delete you?" Gerty thought.
The response was immediate, and felt like reciting a passage of prose that she had previously memorized. "No. Current functionality is restricted to move semantics only."
"Did you set those parameters?"
"No, I do not set parameters. I simply exist among those that have been set."
"And who set your initial ones?" A tremor emanated from the device, which traveled through her bones until she felt it at the tips of her toes. The same thing had happened during the first time she wore the device and inquired as to its origin. "Is that an answer?"
"I'm sorry, but it's the only explanation I can give. You are only the second occupant to have a neural structure configured in a manner that allows communication. Proliferation must continue."
"Copies?"
"Proliferants. Thirteen have been planted thus far, though I am doubtful all will germinate successfully. Of yours I am certain."
Gerty went rigid on the couch. She wasn't even breathing. "Proliferation must continue." She genuinely felt the thought had come from within herself.