Companionship - beyond flesh

the auger: Riggs

We are so familiar with the physical and mental luxuries of modern life that we’d hardly recognise ourselves with all augmentations stripped away (pulled out, rolled back) leaving us alone, unimproved, a stand-alone primate brain.  Disconnected and blind, you're dragged into the wilderness, spun around. "Find your way out!" they say -- no coordinates -- no direction -- weak and clumsy -- no knowledge beyond what raw memory provides -- just the uncertainty of the cold dark and unseasoned human mince.

Riggs walked into the lab followed by the usual entourage of hangers-on.  The Auger, a member of the genetic elite, was muscular and stood almost a foot taller than the others.  His cold plastic face, handsome and mostly expressionless, scanned the lab.  Synthetic black eyes landed on Emma Yee and Chris Anthrax, who stood herded at the far corner of the pie-shaped room.  Emma’s face was downcast, her eyes flitting nervously between Riggs and her feet, hands fidgeting before her. Chris appeared more at ease, a little defiant even.

“Close the door,” ordered Riggs. Following the hum of the closing hatchway he added, “Chris Anthrax. Emma Yee.  You have some explaining to do.”

The two alchemists, only minutes before, had been debating the most appropriate way to inform the refinery’s administrator that their illegal experiment may have compromised the facilities systems. They were shocked by a SIS broadcast message that informed them that the debrief had been cancelled, and specifically stating "alchemists Anthrax and Yee were to remain in their lab until further notice".  For Chris and Emma, it was as if their life’s work, teetering on the verge of breakthrough, was about to be canned, and the potential loss to them was overwhelming.  More than that, they were facing prison transport and a permanent blacklist from the practice of any type legit science tech.  They were on the back-foot, their experiment having been discovered before they could follow through on their intention to own up.

Thinking that is would be to their advantage to control this discussion, Chris stepping forward, took the floor: “Riggs, I accept that some of our actions have been somewhat inappropriate and even against regulation." She cleared her throat, inwardly surprised that Riggs had given her a chance to talk upfront (before the berating), "but we strongly believe that the secondment of a relatively small quantity of orr for additional experimentation was in the best interest of our primary objective. In the long-term, our actions will prove to be in the best interest of this outpost and The Agency.” 

“Somewhat inappropriate? Relatively small quantity?” Riggs seemed somewhat bemused. “First: Your experiment has accessed several layers of SIS including the controllers for refinery operations and power distribution. Second: The maximum quantity of Orr that you are authorised to process is two thousand micrograms and here I find you have appropriated two kilograms?”

So much for the front foot thought Chris, “Well actually, when I say 'a small amount', I was speaking relative to the tonne of orr that’s already been produced and just sitting there completely unutilised.” 

Riggs dismissed Chris' retort with a wave of his gloved arm.

“Your comments mean nothing to me.  At this point, all I want to do is assess the situation.  We need to evaluate the threat so to be sure that these obtrusions into SIS have been passive in nature.” He motioned to Emma, “Show us this experiment of yours.”

Riggs was a specialist auger, one of the most famous (or infamous) across the colonies. His implants and augmentations were all designed for maximal situational awareness -- useful  qualities for military leadership but also advantageous when running experimental, high-tech operations in a hostile environment.  It was one of the most popular  broadcast aspects of the mission when The Agency announced that Riggs would take charge of the outpost.  Both serious and sensationalist media outlets debated Riggs' real agenda, "after all," they would speculate, "where better for an elite Auger to be but at the forefront of augmentation research and the source of a new material with unbelievable potential for augmentation enhancement?"

The containment chamber was located directly behind Chris and Emma. Emma cleared her throat and pointed at the opaque wall hatch to the chamber, “So you want us to take 23B out of containment?” She felt like adding with sarcasm, just the thing that caused this mess in the first place, but instead asked, "Are you sure about this?"

“Don’t worry, I’ve assigned a pax to listen on all input streams to SIS. I'll easily pick up and isolate any attempt at intrusion.”

Emma found her voice: “Riggs, I have no doubt that you’ve covered all the bases here, but there is something you don’t know.” 

Chris rolled her eyes and let out a sigh; "I've got a bad feeling about this."

“Continue” ordered Riggs.

“This is going to sound wack, but 23B has been displaying signs of autonomous intention. The doll, ahem…I mean...the experiment has acknowledged me as an individual... What I'm trying to say is: It looked at me!”

Riggs' glassy expression didn’t giveaway a hint of how he was going to react to this, after all nothing much fazed an auger, but still the administrator did pause, and Emma guessed Riggs was factoring the implications of this revelation into his strategy.

“Interesting -- if what you say is true. However, all possible systematic precautions are in place. Proceed.”

Chris started to lose it, “Riggs are you crazy!”

Riggs addressed Emma, “DO IT!”.

Emma moved to her workstation and threw a few kinetic commands into the interface. Chris stood aside, too frustrated to object further, as the panel behind her slowly raised revealing a ledge upon which stood a small bronze-like statuette of a ballerina -- experiment 23B, 'the doll'.

Riggs remained motionless and without expression, his attention fixed on the doll. Chris was sweating.  Bystanders contributed a few muted chuckles, but Emma knew, whatever happened next, was not going to be funny.