Code of Silence - Chapter 13

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It had been a while since Alex and I had discussed the voice synthesis project. We often bumped into each other, catching up in the corridors on the way to and from lectures. Small talk along with a brief acknowledgement that we needed to be getting on with it. Alex seemed to be the one reminding me, dropping it into conversation from time to time. University life coupled with a busy social calendar meant our days were packed, and although I was determined to make something of the early versions of the software we had been developing, I was finding it difficult to maintain focus.

I'd made the trip home the previous weekend to visit my dad, explaining that I thought I might be close to a solution. He was making good progress, gaining more mobility by the day, to the point that he could even get around the house and garden with the aid of a walking frame. But the condition had ravaged his brain, and the ability for him to communicate was taking much longer to return.

This was hard to accept, but particularly for my dad, who wasn't used to all this downtime. He had a business to run, a living to earn, and me to keep in touch with, and was unable to do any of these as a result of the stroke. Thankfully, neighbours and friends in the village continued to provide support and the house was often busy with people coming and going, delivering food, restocking the fridge and dealing with Dad's laundry. He wasn't short of company but even so, was still trapped in a body that couldn't participate, and didn't work properly as far as he was concerned.

I was relieved that my dad was rarely alone, but I was frustrated. I still felt guilty about being away but this feeling was subsiding over time, and I knew he wanted me to continue with my studies. Our communications were still limited to basic sign language and written notes. I updated him weekly, via email and messages, always receiving short but upbeat replies. Being there in person was precious time though; I was able to sit and chat a little more about studies, my dad listening intently. The courses and lecturers, where I was living, new friends all the usual stuff parents want to hear about.

I was also excited to hear his reaction to the voice synthesis solution Alex and I had been working on. My dad was eager to learn more and scribbled a note: Am I guinea pig number one? There had been no significant change in Dad's ability to speak, and I was concerned that progress had slowed, whereas his physical mobility seemed to be improving. Reassured by the visiting doctor that there was no predetermined pattern for things to change, I decided I'd put more energy into my plans to create something to help him. I'd messaged Alex from the train as I travelled back.

Alex had been working on other elements of the project that same weekend, recognising that I was getting distracted and that I wasn't as focussed. Things had moved along steadily with the software development, platform updates and anything that was of a technical nature that didn't involve the personal stuff I had gathered. The audio detail was something that really only I could decide upon, and Alex had no problem leaving it for me to sort, as there was plenty else to get on with in the meantime. We decided to grab some time with Khan outside of the usual IT sessions so that we could get his help on some areas that we were struggling with. I went straight over to Alex's room when I arrived back on campus and we discussed some of the detail and what we'd need help with. The next day we both had a free morning, so thought we'd use it to work with Khan, if he was available.

Arriving at the IT rooms we knocked, eased the door open and entered. The lab was empty but we could hear Professor Khan on speakerphone in the rear office. We hung around, drawn towards the 3D printers again. This time the printed sample was of an ornate key, the sort used to unlock an antique tea chest or travel trunk. The intricate model of the London landmark we'd marvelled at previously had seen better days, having received many inspections from heavy-handed students. Khan ended his call but didn't look up, rapidly tapping away at the PC keyboard in front of him. He picked up his phone again, scrolled and held it to his ear this time as the call connected. Holding his hand up he acknowledged our presence, but indicated that he needed a little more time.

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