Assorted Ancient Texts

Sector 23 - Part III

>> 21:42:59/Qaisch: There is hope, Cain: he's lost. He is a bird lost in a hurricane: trying to go in a straight line but going in circles without even knowing the difference."

>> 21:43:22/Cain: What does that make us? We've been following his signal for years, cross-referencing his data for months, narrowing down his location for weeks, and figuring out a way to get him out for days. I'm fucking tired of following an assumption! If we're following a ghost's trail, then are we not the ones that are lost?

>> 21:43:53/Qaisch: We're not lost, because we've been shown the path. We've left the storm. We're found.

>> 21:44:41/Cain: Qaisch?

>> 21:44:48/Qaisch: What.

>> 21:45:16/Cain: Nevermind, I understand.

>> 21:45:36/Qaisch: Good. Don't give up, we're getting closer!

>> 21:45:38/Qaisch has Terminated the Log [EndTrans];

***

Michael holds the thumbdrive in his hand. Tracing down his arm with his eyes, he watches as the veins in his arm glow a faint cyan beneath his skin. The veins pulse twice and then satellite images strobe over his vision like a heads-up display as they are projected over his retina. The blue chemical he had injected into his body last night in the public bathroom was a serum of nano-machines and proteins. The microscopic machines had rewritten his genetic code and created a network of data-storing veins filled with nervous tissue, capable of storing several terabytes' worth of data on hundreds of miles of nervous synapses. The machines had created an organic hard drive in Michael's body. His fingertips are contact transmitters/recievers, his retinas can display images, and his brain can be electronically stimulated to perceive an audio file received from the thumbdrive in his hand. Michael is a walking organic computer.

He watches his heads-up display as the entire thumbdrive scrolls by his vision and is hard copied to his body. The copying process finishes, and Michael smiles slightly as he drops the thumbdrive on the asphault street. With a hearty stomp, the data storing module is in two pieces. A few stomps later, several pieces of the flash drive litter the ground. With the data safely logged into his body, anyone hunting for the thumbdrive would be rather disappointed to find that it is non-readable. A car drives by the entrance of the alley at a little less than the speed limit.

***

>> Log_Init; Cain [ping] Qaisch

>> Accept Log? (Y,N); Y

>> Log_Accept; Log Started (23:54:08, May 14th)

_______________________

>> 23:54:13/Qaisch: What is it?

>> 23:54:20/Cain: He's gone. He took the serum and destroyed the thumbdrive 2 days ago, and now he's completely gone. He's a ghost, Qaisch, he disappeared. Months of work down the fucking drain like I told you would happen when we started this shit-fest!

>> 23:54:31/Qaisch: Stow it, how did you loose him? We had him down to the point! Search for him, we have to find him.

>> 23:55:10/Cain: He's gone! He's purged himself from detection. There's no signal, no trace, just a bio-sig here and there. But there's no way to know if it is him or just a mix of signals.

>> 23:55:54/Qaisch: Follow the bio-signatures! Keep a record of when and where they show up. Send me a diagnostic of all the signatures you have so far, with satellite imagery if you have any. Goddammit, we're gone this far to find him we can't just loose him in a heartbeat.