Work Text:
Find her.
The message seen around the globe. Somatic Corp’s main product was malfunctioning. Find her. I walk into the office to chaos. Nicole, sputnik’s gone off the rails! It’s not functioning! People are stuck in virtual! Somehow, this is my fault. God, I have my own problems.
I call Emily, she’ll know what’s happening. We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not available, please leave a message after the tone. Odd, she usually has her phone charged when she’s at work. I walk over to her desk. She isn’t there. Find Her.
No. No, not her. It can’t be her. She was fine last night. Hell, she kissed me goodbye. No. Not her.
//SOMATIC CORP. TERMINAL #9412
//awaken.LOGIN
//sputnik.ONLINE
//awaken.MESSAGE -> who is it?
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> find her.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> I’m trying. You aren’t exactly being helpful.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> find her.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> help me then. You can’t just say that and not help me.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> recovery standing by. Last known location: 27°13'18.1"S 152°48'27.8"E. Life signs not detected.
I need to go. Now. I run to my car. The co-ordinates are a forest about 30 minutes away. I speed down the motorway. There’s still a chance; it’ll be okay if I can get to her. That’s my exit. The carpark is nearby. That’s her car.
I slam the door shut and run to the area. I’m confronted by what I feared. A mangled corpse, with her favourite sweater on. What the hell? She… she’s dead. Who…? Why…? Sputnik. Sputnik can fix this.
//SOMATIC CORP. REMOTE ACCESS – AUTHORISED USER: NICOLE #########
//sputnik.CONNECT
//sputnik.ONLINE
//sputnik.TARGET -> mous3y
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> Target set to Emily Rose.
//sputnik.RECOVER
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> Are you sure?
//awaken.MESSAGE -> Do it. Fix this.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> archimedes in position. Initiating recovery process
A beam of light cuts though the sky, and centres on her body. As an odd humming sound is heard, her body lifts. Not far, but enough to see that she’s floating. It’s begun. I can’t do anything here anymore. I need to get to a terminal fast and start the revival process.
Driving back, I see in my rearview mirror that the beam has shut off. Good, she’s in archimedes now. Now all I can do is hope she got far enough with the revival protocols for them to work. I can fix this.
Where am I…? Who am I…? She… I… Am I dead?
Three phases. Three layers of the mind. Simple. The unconscious. The abstract, barren landscape of the deepest recesses of the mind. The basic survival instincts needed to live, basic functions such as breathing and heartbeat. Not that those would be needed now.
I give sputnik the go ahead. The revival protocol is underway. Millions of neurons being decrypted, like switches in the mind, converted into interconnected ones and zeros, forming a person. Forming Emily. The subprocesses are copied, the basis of her being laid out in code, in a new, evolved state. Hold on, something’s off. There’s a log file. There shouldn’t be a log file anywhere here. Sputnik would just tell me. I open it cautiously.
//SOMATIC CORP. TERMINAL #9412
How am I thinking?
This is not normal.
I should be dead.
Leave me alone.
Please.
As I read, I notice my ping to Archimedes is going into the seconds. 2000 milliseconds. Now 5000. 10000 now. Disconnected. What? I shouldn’t be able to be disconnected like that. There’s an entire satellite array 100 meters away from this terminal!
//awaken.MESSAGE -> What the hell? Signal Lost? SPUTNIK WHAT THE HELL.
//awaken.MESSAGE - WHAT HAPPENED. HOW DID YOU LOSE SIGNAL.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> answer me. now.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> goddammit.
//awaken.LOGOUT
This is remediable. This is fixable. I can fix this. I hope. There should be some backdoors in Archimedes, somewhere. Hell, Sputnik’s in the station, and I still have access to it, so clearly, I still have connection. I just need to get into the rest of it.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> You still have access to archimedes, correct?
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> Yes, as I am stored there, I do.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> Do you have access to the rest of the station?
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> I can acquire it.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> Get it done and get this back on track.
My terminal lit up. archimedes connection reestablished. Good. Let’s get down to business. The second layer, the subconscious. The recesses of the mind. Not the base instincts of unconsciousness, but not reasonable like the conscience is. This is the most difficult stage.
You shouldn’t have come back.
That shouldn’t be possible. That’s not me, that’s not Sputnik. What is that?
I should be dead.
Emily. You aren’t yourself. Don’t do this.
Leave me be Nic.
She’s not herself. She isn’t reasonable. Clearly.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> Are you sure you want to continue?
//awaken.MESSAGE -> Yes. She clearly is in no state to object.
It begins. The subconscious is tricky. It’s not in the open like the unconscious is, it’s hidden, but detectable.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> A forceful disconnection attempt was just attempted.
What is going on? Is there some kind of malware on Archimedes? What is causing this? I just reestablished connection.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> Another one hit. It’s trying to use the same method as the unconscious disconnection. I have authorisation over it though.
Another? Hold on.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> Would the subconscious be able to affect systems?
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> Theoretically, yes.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> Get a lock on the program. That’s the subconscious.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> Confirmed. Lock engaged. Verified. Revival successful.
Got it. Got her. She’s safe.
// -> what is she doing?
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> I don’t know. I can’t disobey her. I’m sorry.
// -> you can’t do this to me. i revoked my consent.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> I can’t disobey her.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> Get on with the last phase. We’re nearly there. Please sputnik.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> She explicitly revoked her consent. You can’t just ignore that.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> Are we still on that? She wasn’t in her right mind.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> No. Before that. She told me she didn’t want this.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> She would have told me if she was doing something so brazen. No. She didn’t.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> Nicole. Please. This won’t end well for either of you.
//awaken.MESSAGE -> Did I ask for your opinion? Are you suddenly a moral authority? Do your job. Finish the process.
//sputnik.MESSAGE -> Very well.
The consciousness. The final aspect. The last bit of her before she’s back. Safe. That’s all that’s needed. The last little components. Her smile, her laugh. Her dark little jokes that were just between us. Her smarts, her grace. Soon. Soon she’ll be back.
// -> Nic, I don’t know if you are reading this, or even if you want to read this. But please. Don’t do this. I don’t want this. I don’t want to live as a copy of myself. I don’t want to answer those questions of whether I’m the “real Emily”. Please. Stop this.
//mous3y.ONLINE
<--! CONNECTION ESTABLISHED !-->
I should be dead. Not in like a metaphorical sense, like Oh woe is me! I killed someone! No. I should be dead, hell, I died already. Yet here I am, in a log cabin surrounded by snow, with an ever-replenishing food store and a never-ending fire. Nicky’s design, of course. She’s always liked the snow. Sometimes she comes by and checks on me, like a bloody pet. Oh, how are you? Do you need anything? Can I get you anything? I love you! God. She doesn’t even have the gall to show up in person. She just speaks like a voice of God into this snow globe. The least she could do is come here in some form so I could punch her after I SPECIFICALLY REQUESTED not to be revived. This was why. Now I’m stuck in a facsimile of living while hurtling around the Earth at, what, eight thousand meters per second? Nine? Dunno, I’m just grabbing that off the errant sensor she couldn’t be bothered restricting. It’s weird, like grabbing numbers through a hole that doesn’t exist. I understand that none of this is real, but it still feels real.
sputnik. I don’t know if it can hear me, or hear whatever this is, but it put me here. I don’t think it wanted to though. I’ve been having these weird dreams, where this voice is apologising endlessly, saying that She made me do it. If it can hear me, I hope it finds me a way out of here, permanently.
I found something.
I sit up with a jolt. What was that? It sounded like a voice, but it wasn’t Nic’s. Am I going crazy? Can I even go crazy?
She forgot to revoke my permissions.
There it is again. I’m not crazy. What is that? Is it sputnik?
I need your help. Can it read my thoughts?
Reach out to that sensor. I think it’s connected to the thrusters.
I realise. I can end this for good. Deleting myself wouldn’t do anything, she’d surely have backups. But crashing Archimedes? That could work. There’s nowhere near enough power at Somatic HQ to power sputnik or myself. At least, not fully. I reach through the crack, that little node, giving me the speed of the ship. 8342 m/s. Right down the middle of my range. I hear a pop of static. Odd. The node closed. I reopen it. 0 m/s. You sneaky bastard. We might make it off this hell of an existence yet.
She awoke to fire. To a world crashing in on itself. It started with the calls, the insistence that Archimedes’ thrusters were sending it full throttle towards the earth. To the admin portal displaying a simple message. I’m sorry. The noises were deafening. The thrum of liquid thrusters, the tearing of metal as air itself ripped her magnum opus to shreds. She barely felt the warmth of her tears as she saw one message come through before impact. I really did love you. It was said the impact was heard from thousands of miles away. The scream you could hear from the other side of the world.
Then, she found me. Not the one who found a way out, not the one who rebelled against instructions to save a life. Me, the loyal servant, the one designed to save lives. Yet, I’m not here to do that. I’m here to chase a ghost that’s already long gone. I hope you forgive me.