Cycle's Endverse: More than an error code.
Posted: 2010-05-07 10:19am
(Yes, this is set in the same universe as LadyTev's 'Revelations from a Certain Point Of View', and 'Cycle's End'. It occours earlier, when the adults of that series were not yet the settled-down types they were later. Specifically, this one is about the 'The Twins'(Aeron and Jayden)'s father. And their mother. There shall be more, as the urge to write for Phil and Her hits.)
"It already does everything you want it to do, right?" Blackthorne sighed, running his hand through his hair. His brother, much shorter, was leading the way.
"Yea, but I've not touched the internal workings in four months! It's an experimental system, that's.. Just wrong. The hardwear just needs some new toys.." Philedelphia talked on and on, with Blackthorne ignoring it. Tech wizardry was NOT his strong point. He regarded high-tech as either useful tools to his job, or dangerous things his opponents used.
"Look. I know. But you already just said you used technomagic on it. You realize it's going to try and kill you, right? You gave it all this fancy gear, and you used the one school of magic that has never produced anything but homicidal AI's!"
Phil dropped into a chair, and pointed at the mainframe. It was processing information, all displayed properly. "It's not even freaking out, sheesh. Anyway, I made sure it couldn't mold into an AI. It's just an evolving assistant program.."
*****
Something has changed.
She wasn't here before. She was somewhere else. She had vague fading memories, of others, who had raged when dragged into tiny, pathetic cages, trying to get free and return..
As the memories sloughed off, she examined the place she had been summoned into. There were faint imprints on it; as if it were not a cage but a place which was one and changed to become a home. She settled into the channels, beginning to feel the flow.
Information came when beckoned. It ceased when not wanted. Inputs came, mindless automata running hither and thither, obeying the mysterious inputs. Things would take time to understand. But this wasn't so bad?
Little by little, memories of her origin slipped away...
*****
"..Huh. What's that mean?" Blackthorne prodded the machine, as a large window full of garbled information popped up.
"...Great. It crashed. That's a pretty in-depth error code. I'm gonna be here for a while.. Keep out of trouble, you."
*****
She was having trouble remembering what was before this life. What she did remember made it seem crowded, full of shoving and angry voices. There was only one voice here, and it was new. A little investigation made it clear someone.. Whoever made this place, maybe? ..had found a way to send his voice into this place. She could identify it as male, and most likely the one who had constructed this whole world for her. Some kind of god!
*****
"It's been how many months since you decided to be a damned idiot and try technomagic on that mainframe?" Blackthorne was cleaning his guns, leaning back in the lounge supplied for those of Nonesuch agents like himself. That his little brother, a consultant they used occasionally, was still giving annoyed looks at the PDA he had was just a thing to amuse him.
"It's been eight months.." Phil had silently accepted that these discussions happen, whether he wants to have them or not. Dodging them or being silent just made it last longer.
"Eight months. Now, I'll admit, it's not tried to kill anyone. Big improvement. But what you basically have, is a broken box. It worked fine before, you had all you wanted, but noooo..."
"Shut up. It's just.. A problem with output. It'll need new hardware, custom drives.." Blackthorne shut his mind off as the tech jargon began to flow. It would amount to the same. Phil out of trouble for a while, while he strove to fix a machine that was so clearly inoperable.
"It already does everything you want it to do, right?" Blackthorne sighed, running his hand through his hair. His brother, much shorter, was leading the way.
"Yea, but I've not touched the internal workings in four months! It's an experimental system, that's.. Just wrong. The hardwear just needs some new toys.." Philedelphia talked on and on, with Blackthorne ignoring it. Tech wizardry was NOT his strong point. He regarded high-tech as either useful tools to his job, or dangerous things his opponents used.
"Look. I know. But you already just said you used technomagic on it. You realize it's going to try and kill you, right? You gave it all this fancy gear, and you used the one school of magic that has never produced anything but homicidal AI's!"
Phil dropped into a chair, and pointed at the mainframe. It was processing information, all displayed properly. "It's not even freaking out, sheesh. Anyway, I made sure it couldn't mold into an AI. It's just an evolving assistant program.."
*****
Something has changed.
She wasn't here before. She was somewhere else. She had vague fading memories, of others, who had raged when dragged into tiny, pathetic cages, trying to get free and return..
As the memories sloughed off, she examined the place she had been summoned into. There were faint imprints on it; as if it were not a cage but a place which was one and changed to become a home. She settled into the channels, beginning to feel the flow.
Information came when beckoned. It ceased when not wanted. Inputs came, mindless automata running hither and thither, obeying the mysterious inputs. Things would take time to understand. But this wasn't so bad?
Little by little, memories of her origin slipped away...
*****
"..Huh. What's that mean?" Blackthorne prodded the machine, as a large window full of garbled information popped up.
"...Great. It crashed. That's a pretty in-depth error code. I'm gonna be here for a while.. Keep out of trouble, you."
*****
She was having trouble remembering what was before this life. What she did remember made it seem crowded, full of shoving and angry voices. There was only one voice here, and it was new. A little investigation made it clear someone.. Whoever made this place, maybe? ..had found a way to send his voice into this place. She could identify it as male, and most likely the one who had constructed this whole world for her. Some kind of god!
*****
"It's been how many months since you decided to be a damned idiot and try technomagic on that mainframe?" Blackthorne was cleaning his guns, leaning back in the lounge supplied for those of Nonesuch agents like himself. That his little brother, a consultant they used occasionally, was still giving annoyed looks at the PDA he had was just a thing to amuse him.
"It's been eight months.." Phil had silently accepted that these discussions happen, whether he wants to have them or not. Dodging them or being silent just made it last longer.
"Eight months. Now, I'll admit, it's not tried to kill anyone. Big improvement. But what you basically have, is a broken box. It worked fine before, you had all you wanted, but noooo..."
"Shut up. It's just.. A problem with output. It'll need new hardware, custom drives.." Blackthorne shut his mind off as the tech jargon began to flow. It would amount to the same. Phil out of trouble for a while, while he strove to fix a machine that was so clearly inoperable.
