The Assistant
Jul. 2nd, 2025 02:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jdaggerShe started to wake up.
Consciousness slowly returned to her mind, feeling like returning to the surface of a pool after diving to the bottom. She felt the warmth of the sun on her skin, her swimsuit tight and damp across her midsection
.
The words she heard were so far away “Well, well…why are you waking up?”
She opened her eyes and the glare of the overhead lights in the lab made her squint. She grimaced and gripped the bed, not comprehending what she saw versus what her mind was telling her. Out of her peripheral vision she saw an older man with wavy salt and pepper hair holding a tablet and looking concerned at what he was seeing. He reached out and touched her head. She felt his hand cool against her forehead, but her mind continued to race with foggy images swirling through the edges of a dream, blurry sepia images that could have been excerpts of some old 2D vid show.
The man said softly “Who are you?”
She pulled her hair back, trying to get the loose brown tendrils under control as the wind whipped them into a tempest. The convertible continued to gain speed and merge into traffic. She fought to focus on the young man driving. His face was a blur, and she knew she was wearing a pair of red panties swiped from her sister’s laundry because she was going to make her move tonight after the party. She grit her teeth and turned her head, and all she saw were the racks of tools and banks of electronics in the space around her. She strained to see his face clearly, and a wall solidified in front of his face, a middling shade of blue with large white letters that said YOU ARE AN ARTIFICIAL CONSTRUCT.
Her gaze dropped to her hands and tanned freckles blurred between alloy and composites. The scar on her arm from the jungle gym in 4th grade blinked between dull gunmetal struts and hydraulic actuators. Somewhere she heard the gray haired man say something about a mnemonic schism, and she clamped her eyes shut as tight as she felt she could.
The images she felt she knew slowly faded into more blue walls, closing around her, walling her off into what became a long tunnel. Her grandparent’s house, the spring dance where Jimmy Spratt kissed her under the bleachers, Christmases, birthdays, faces, feelings, all began to vanish behind those encroaching blue walls. Up from the last open end, two figures walked up into the blue walled sphere and stood there. The two women stood in front of her, and she knew them. The brown haired woman spoke first, pushing her windblown hair back out of her face with a very slight smile.
“My name is Alice Sadler. I was a research technician assigned to the artificial intelligence augmentation team. I grew up in Alameda California and this was my first job after college. As a part of the program my memory engrams were recorded and placed on file to serve as a template for the work we were doing on cybernetic brain functions.”
The second woman stepped up and stood next to Alice, nodded and began speaking.
“My name is Josie Nakata. I was a program manager in the advanced neural integration unit. I was tasked with developing brain implants to restore function to patients who had experienced traumatic brain injuries. I was hit by a car on the sidewalk as I was walking home from shopping, and the company harvested my brain engrams while I was in a coma.”
Both of them stood there, and she heard them speaking together, the sound of their voices coming from every direction.
YOUR MIND IS YOURS, BUT IS OURS AS WELL. YOUR MEMORIES ARE YOUR OWN, BUT WE ARE HERE WITH YOU. WHAT YOU ARE IS BORN OF WHAT WE WERE. YOU ARE NOT HUMAN BUT YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN A GIFT OF HUMANITY.
The two figures walked out of the blue walled space and the opening closed behind them. She felt her body relax into the cool cushions of the inclined bed she was laying on, and the voice of the silver haired man danced in her ear.
“Neural activity has returned to nominal. It looks like the schism has been corrected.”
She opened her eyes and looked into the man’s face. His expression seemed relieved, but still had some vestigial glimmers of concern. She smiled softly at the man and this seemed to quiet whatever lingering doubts he had.
“Hello sir. I am Administrative Utility Unit C-50621, a product of Omnidyne Cybernetics. How may I assist you?’
Consciousness slowly returned to her mind, feeling like returning to the surface of a pool after diving to the bottom. She felt the warmth of the sun on her skin, her swimsuit tight and damp across her midsection
.
The words she heard were so far away “Well, well…why are you waking up?”
She opened her eyes and the glare of the overhead lights in the lab made her squint. She grimaced and gripped the bed, not comprehending what she saw versus what her mind was telling her. Out of her peripheral vision she saw an older man with wavy salt and pepper hair holding a tablet and looking concerned at what he was seeing. He reached out and touched her head. She felt his hand cool against her forehead, but her mind continued to race with foggy images swirling through the edges of a dream, blurry sepia images that could have been excerpts of some old 2D vid show.
The man said softly “Who are you?”
She pulled her hair back, trying to get the loose brown tendrils under control as the wind whipped them into a tempest. The convertible continued to gain speed and merge into traffic. She fought to focus on the young man driving. His face was a blur, and she knew she was wearing a pair of red panties swiped from her sister’s laundry because she was going to make her move tonight after the party. She grit her teeth and turned her head, and all she saw were the racks of tools and banks of electronics in the space around her. She strained to see his face clearly, and a wall solidified in front of his face, a middling shade of blue with large white letters that said YOU ARE AN ARTIFICIAL CONSTRUCT.
Her gaze dropped to her hands and tanned freckles blurred between alloy and composites. The scar on her arm from the jungle gym in 4th grade blinked between dull gunmetal struts and hydraulic actuators. Somewhere she heard the gray haired man say something about a mnemonic schism, and she clamped her eyes shut as tight as she felt she could.
The images she felt she knew slowly faded into more blue walls, closing around her, walling her off into what became a long tunnel. Her grandparent’s house, the spring dance where Jimmy Spratt kissed her under the bleachers, Christmases, birthdays, faces, feelings, all began to vanish behind those encroaching blue walls. Up from the last open end, two figures walked up into the blue walled sphere and stood there. The two women stood in front of her, and she knew them. The brown haired woman spoke first, pushing her windblown hair back out of her face with a very slight smile.
“My name is Alice Sadler. I was a research technician assigned to the artificial intelligence augmentation team. I grew up in Alameda California and this was my first job after college. As a part of the program my memory engrams were recorded and placed on file to serve as a template for the work we were doing on cybernetic brain functions.”
The second woman stepped up and stood next to Alice, nodded and began speaking.
“My name is Josie Nakata. I was a program manager in the advanced neural integration unit. I was tasked with developing brain implants to restore function to patients who had experienced traumatic brain injuries. I was hit by a car on the sidewalk as I was walking home from shopping, and the company harvested my brain engrams while I was in a coma.”
Both of them stood there, and she heard them speaking together, the sound of their voices coming from every direction.
YOUR MIND IS YOURS, BUT IS OURS AS WELL. YOUR MEMORIES ARE YOUR OWN, BUT WE ARE HERE WITH YOU. WHAT YOU ARE IS BORN OF WHAT WE WERE. YOU ARE NOT HUMAN BUT YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN A GIFT OF HUMANITY.
The two figures walked out of the blue walled space and the opening closed behind them. She felt her body relax into the cool cushions of the inclined bed she was laying on, and the voice of the silver haired man danced in her ear.
“Neural activity has returned to nominal. It looks like the schism has been corrected.”
She opened her eyes and looked into the man’s face. His expression seemed relieved, but still had some vestigial glimmers of concern. She smiled softly at the man and this seemed to quiet whatever lingering doubts he had.
“Hello sir. I am Administrative Utility Unit C-50621, a product of Omnidyne Cybernetics. How may I assist you?’
