Cyber Dreams 2.22 - GARD (Patreon)

Happy Friday, everyone! I hope you enjoy the chapter; you might see some hints about things to come in this one. I really appreciate all the feedback I got on the last chapter, and I'll be looking forward to how you all think things are going with the main conflict in this volume as things continue to shake out.

-Plum

Juliet stepped into the little white room. Nothing but a white, plasteel table and two chairs occupied the space other than a black camera array staring at her from the corner. The walls were white-painted concrete, which reminded her of an interrogation room she’d seen in a police drama. A smooth, feminine voice sounded from a speaker hidden in the camera array, “Please sit down in the chair closest to you. Your evaluator will be in shortly.”

“Evaluator?” Juliet said aloud, sitting down at the table. To Angel, she subvocalized, “More tests? I thought we were done with those.”

“Your comrade, Houston, seemed to think this was nonsense; he can’t have been in long, considering he was on his way out at 0800.”

“True . . .” The door opened, interrupting Juliet’s line of thought, and she turned to see a small woman in a white lab coat step through. She had her brown hair pulled back in a bun, and though she didn’t wear much makeup, she looked like she took pride in her appearance; her skin was smooth and well-moisturized, and her ocular implants were stunning, brilliant yellow-orange irises that glittered like jewels from beneath her perfectly shaped, thick brows.

“Hello, Ms. Roman. We’re conducting some evaluations today to see if you are a candidate for a new program here at Grave.” She spoke while she walked around the table, a thin tablet clutched in one hand. She pulled out her chair, sat down, and continued, “Before we begin, I need you to sign an NDA; we don’t want employees speaking to each other about the process.” She slid her tablet across the table to Juliet; tiny printing filled the screen.

“Angel, please read this,” Juliet subvocalized.

“It’s fairly standard legal language, Juliet. Nothing surprising, though Lydia will be held liable for breaking the NDA, and her employment could be terminated should she violate it.” Juliet nodded and then touched her thumb to the square at the bottom of the document.

“Thank you,” the woman said, pulling the tablet back across the little table. “I’m Violet, by the way. This will be very painless; I’m simply going to ask you some questions, and all you need to do is answer to the best of your ability.”

“Sounds easy enough . . .”

“Excellent. We have a long list of Grave employees to get through today, so I’ll go ahead and get started.” She lifted her tablet and, pulling out a kickstand on the back of it, arranged it on the desk, so the screen faced her. “You’re aware that we’re being recorded?” She gestured to the camera in the corner.

“Yes.”

“Great,” Violet smiled and clasped her hands before her, looking over her tablet at Juliet. “Will you please confirm, for the record, that you cannot see what is currently displayed on my screen?”

“Uh,” Juliet said, then stared at the tablet, only able to see the flat gray back of it. “Yes, I can confirm.”

“Thank you. Now, Lydia . . . may I call you Lydia?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“Thank you, Lydia. For the first part of this assessment, I’m going to be staring at my tablet, and it will randomly change its display to show me one of four different colors: red, blue, black, or white. I’d like you to concentrate on me, try to imagine what color I’m seeing, and if something comes to you, I’d like you to say the color. That’s easy enough, isn’t it?”

“Uh, are you trying to see if I’m psychic or something?” Juliet frowned and looked around the room. Was this some kind of psych exam? “Did something come up with my squad; are you checking me for some kind of psychosis?”

“Not at all, Lydia. This isn’t a trick; you aren’t in any trouble. Hundreds of Grave employees are going through this same routine today—most of you will be done after just a few minutes in a room like this. Are you ready to begin?”

“Any idea what’s going on here?” Juliet subvocalized.

“I’m not sure . . .” Angel replied

As Angel trailed off, Juliet said, “So, I’m just supposed to say if I think you’re looking at a particular color?”

“That’s right, Lydia. Shall we begin?”

“Okay, let me concentrate,” Juliet said, trying to clear her mind and focusing on Violet’s stunning, depthless amber irises. She didn’t know what this was all about, but she was determined to do her best.

“Beginning assessment A214, let the record reflect that my ocular implants are currently backlit with yellow illumination and will not reflect what my tablet displays. Lydia, the first color will display in three . . . two . . . one . . . begin.”

Juliet stared at Violet; she tried to get an impression of what the woman was seeing, but nothing came to her, so she just opened her mouth and let the first color that came to her mind roll off her tongue, “White.”

Violet didn’t react, didn’t so much as blink or squint her eyes. She just kept staring at her tablet’s screen. Juliet didn’t know when the color would change, didn’t know what it would be, and didn’t think she was getting anything from staring at Violet’s eyes, so she closed hers. In the black void of self-imposed blindness, she let her mind drift, imagined four squares of color in a gray expanse, white, black, red, and blue, and she mentally watched them. When the blue one seemed to pulse or expand ever so slightly, she said, “Blue.”

As before, Violet didn’t react, and Juliet kept watching her imagined squares of color, and she continued to call them out as they moved or shimmered or shrank or flipped or spun—all things she supposed her subconscious was doing to keep her mind from being too bored. Still, she called out the shifting colors one after another, “Blue, white, black, still black, red, blue, white, blue, red, blue . . .”

“Thank you, Lydia,” Violet said, and Juliet opened her eyes as she heard the other woman scooting her chair back. Violet stood, smiling pleasantly, looking at her tablet. A moment later, she looked at Juliet and said, “I’ll need you to go back to the hallway and continue to room B2017; there’s another assessment for you there.”

“Did I pass?”

“There’s no passing or failing, Ms. Roman—we do want you to continue with the assessments, though.” Violet smiled, and as she walked around the table and opened the door, she put a hand on Juliet’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Lydia.” With that, she stepped out, and Juliet was left to make her own way to the next room.

“How long was I in there?” Juliet asked Angel as she continued down the quiet hallway lined with closed, numbered doors.

“Seventeen minutes.”

“Wild—felt more like five to me.”

“Do you think you said any of the correct colors? This whole thing seems very strange to me; how can you be expected to see the colors she’s looking at with no sort of wireless connection to her visual feed? Should I have tried to breach the camera so that you could guess the correct colors?”

“No, Angel. I don’t want to have to fake my way through all of these tests; we don’t know what they’re looking for anyway. Maybe they didn’t want me to guess the right colors.”

“What an odd thought . . .”

Juliet opened the door and found herself in a room identical to the first. However, this one had a vid screen on the wall opposite the single chair at the table, and a closed, white box sat on the table in front of the chair. As soon as she stepped in, a man’s voice emerged from the hidden speaker to say, “Please sit down. Do not open the box.”

“Okay,” Juliet said to the empty room, then sat down in the chair. She sat up straight, self-conscious, knowing at least one person was watching her through the camera. After a moment, the vid screen came to life and displayed a sentence: The assessment will begin in ten seconds. Follow the instructions on the screen.

“Okay,” Juliet said again, unsure whether she should simply comply or say something. Roughly ten seconds passed, though, and the screen changed: When you see an image on the screen, please say aloud the first word that comes to your mind. Acknowledge.

“Acknowledged.” Juliet frowned; this felt like some kind of psych exam to her. Were they worried she was cracking after what happened during the bug hunt? She couldn’t dwell on it any longer, though; an image appeared on the screen. It was a black shape on a white background, and it looked very much like a rat to her. “Rat,” she said without pause. The screen shifted, and another black and white image appeared, a weird blotchy shape that looked something like a cloud to her, “Cloud.”

The test went on for quite a while, and when the screen changed and a message appeared instead of an image, it caught her off guard; she’d entered a sort of zone like she often did when playing a game, running through forms at the dojo or listening to music. Open the box and put the headgear on.

“All right,” Juliet said, then reached forward and opened the box. Tilting it slightly, she saw a black, plastic mesh cap adorned with several conspicuous, blocky battery packs and little plastic cups that looked very much like scanners or, more unnerving, transmitters. She pulled it out and said, “What’s this?” The screen didn’t change, and no answer was forthcoming, so she subvocalized, “Angel, can you get a signal from this thing?”

“Not currently.”

Juliet frowned and stared at the headgear for several long seconds, and then the speaker crackled, and a man’s voice said, “Please put the headgear on; its effects are harmless.”

Juliet sighed and lifted the headgear, ready to pull it on, but first, she subvocalized, “Tell me if you feel this thing messing with you or my brain in some way.”

“I will,” Angel said, her voice calm and sure, which gave Juliet some comfort. She pulled the headgear on, glad it was stretchy and that she’d done her hair in two braids out of habit—they’d done a lot of training in the last week with full combat gear.

The screen changed, and a new message appeared: Slide the headgear forward half an inch. Juliet complied and then heard a buzz and felt the device grow warm. The screen changed again: Do not be alarmed. The headgear will not harm you. Please wait while it calibrates. Juliet frowned, noting the buzz had faded, but an almost inaudible whine seemed to have replaced it.

She was starting to grow used to the feeling when Angel said, “Minute electrical signals are stimulating certain regions of your brain. I’m not familiar with any scientific or medical reason for such stimulation; I’m sorry I’m not more help, Juliet, but I don’t think the device is doing you any harm.”

“It sort of tingles,” Juliet said aloud before she could stop herself. She glanced quickly at the screen, but no new message was forthcoming, nor did the speaker come to life. She stared at the screen, waiting, rather enjoying the weird, humming tingle along her scalp, and then the speaker chimed, and a new message appeared: As before, please speak the first word that comes to mind when you view the following images. Acknowledge.

“Acknowledged.” Juliet grinned, taking weird pleasure in her literal compliance. Just as before, the screen went through a series of black shapes on a white background, and, just as before, Juliet said the first word that came to mind. Nothing felt different to her, and the images were definitely not the same as the ones in the first round, so she wasn’t sure what anyone was hoping to find out. When the screen finally displayed a message rather than an image, she was glad to be done with the strange test. Please remove the headgear and place it in the box.

Juliet quickly lifted the headgear off, and as she was setting it in the box, she felt a wave of vertigo and nearly fell out of her chair. “Are you all right?” Angel asked her immediately, and the speaker also came to life.

“Please steady yourself and only stand after you feel ready; some dizziness is a common side effect and will pass quickly,” the scratchy male voice said.

“I’m fine,” Juliet said to both Angel and the speaker, but she held herself steady with one hand on the table for several seconds as she breathed and slowly shook her head, waiting for the room to stop spinning. When she felt better, she looked up to see a new message on the screen: Please proceed to room B2037.

“All right,” Juliet said, standing, glad to not feel the room lurch or spin as she got to her feet. She walked out of the room and continued further down the silent, cement corridor until she came to the orange metal door with the correct number. Before she opened it, she subvocalized, “Angel, they weren’t stealing data from you or something with that weird headgear, were they?”

“No, and if they were, they’d find all my data thoroughly encrypted. I didn’t sense anything like that happening, though.”

“Good,” Juliet muttered and opened the door, stepping into a room similar in shape and color to the first two but with very different furnishings; a surgical table filled the center of the space with robotic operating arms hanging above it, curved like the legs of a dead spider. “What the hell?” Juliet hissed and started to back out of the room. A hand on her shoulder nearly caused her to jump out of her clothes, and she spun to see the same woman from the first exam—Violet.

“Don’t be alarmed, Ms. Roman. I’m pleased to see you’ve come this far—the surgical table is here for a very minor procedure; please step into the room.”

“What kind of procedure?” Juliet asked, going through the door because if she wanted to leave, she’d have to push past Violet.

“We need to take a small sample of your cerebrospinal fluid. The table is programmed to do it, and it will only take a few seconds; you won’t feel a thing.”

Juliet backed away from Violet, and a small panicked thought entered her mind—what if they ran her DNA? She thought about bolting, about getting out of there, saying she was sick or having a panic attack—saying she couldn’t stand the idea of surgery or some other lame excuse. It all boiled down to one simple denominator, though: she could burn herself now by freaking out, or she could go along and hope they had no reason to check her DNA. With a considerable effort of will, she calmed herself and smiled at Violet.

“Really? Why do you need a sample of that?”

“Well, I can explain some of it, but remember your NDA, okay?”

“Of course! I’m new here—won’t want to get fired for blabbing about things like this.”

“Right, nobody’s trying to get fired today!” Violet laughed, and Juliet really enjoyed the way her eyes sparkled and how her voice sort of trilled from her chest with amusement. “Anyway, we just need the sample to test it with some new tech; we don’t want to put something in your head that will cause an adverse reaction. Grave’s got a big investment in their employees and training; they’d be furious if we killed any of them off with a bad rejection!”

“Don’t you work for Grave?”

“Oh yes . . . forgive my choice of words; we members of the GARD team tend to think of ourselves as being apart from the rest of the corporation. We’re all sequestered down here working in secret—never get a chance to socialize with the rest of the employees, you know?”

“Gard?”

Violet smiled and gently rapped her knuckles against her forehead, “Ugh! I’m sorry; I told you I don’t get to socialize much—Grave Advanced Research and Development.”

“Well, anyway,” Juliet said, also smiling, “it doesn’t sound that bad. How long will it take for you to see if I’m compatible?” Despite her better instincts, she felt disarmed by the woman’s charming demeanor.

“We’ll have your compatibility numbers by tomorrow. You’ll get an early release today!” Violet smiled again, moved over to the surgical bed, and patted it with one hand. “If you hop up here, face-down, we’ll be done before you can count to twenty.”

“Right,” Juliet said, her smile fading as she approached the bed. “Um, can you tell me any more? Why was I looking at pictures with a weird helmet on all morning?”

“Sorry, Lydia—if you pass this compatibility screening, you’ll learn more, but for now, it's best for both of us if I don’t say any more.”

“Gotcha,” Juliet nodded, winking at Violet, then blushing at her brazen behavior. She hurriedly clambered up on the table and lay down, happy to be able to hide her reddened cheeks. Her mind raced with weird thoughts; was she flirting? Had Violet been flirting? Why am I so awkward? Then other ideas entered her mind, more calculated ones—if Violet was flirting, couldn’t I use that? Shouldn’t I try to get more information? Then she thought of the watchdog and remembered Violet had one, too, one that Angel couldn’t control.

“I just need you to pull your blazer and shirt up a few inches so the robotic arms can get to your lower spine. It’s very precise, and before it cuts, it will inject a clotting agent and an analgesic; you won’t even know it happened.”

“Oh, okay,” Juliet said, reaching down to shift the hem of her shirt and uniform jacket up, exposing her lower back. “Should I have taken off my jacket?”

“Nope, this is just fine,” Violet said, then Juliet felt her swab something cold around the center of her back. “I’m just applying some alcohol.” Then Violet stepped up where Juliet could see her and began to operate a small data terminal mounted via a plasteel arm to the table. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Juliet said, and then she heard a whirring sound and felt two tiny pinches in her back. “Is that . . .” she started to ask, but then the whirring intensified, and she felt some pressure, and before she could finish her question, Violet spoke again.

“All done. Got the sample. Just a sec while I apply some adhesive to the incision.” Juliet didn’t feel what Violet did, but a moment later, she said, “All set, Lydia. You’ve got more than half the day off; enjoy it!”

“Um, thanks,” Juliet said, pushing herself up and off the table. She straightened her clothes and then asked, “Do I come back here tomorrow?”

“If this test goes well, yes. If not, then your commander will issue you new orders for the rest of the week.”

“Do you think I’ll pass? Do most people . . .”

Violet grinned and held up a hand, “Sorry, Lydia! I can’t tell you anything more. I hope you have a relaxing afternoon. Don’t worry about your back; that adhesive will hold until the skin heals.”

“Right, thanks, Violet. It was nice meeting you,” Juliet smiled and ducked her head, moving quickly toward the door.

“You too! Hopefully, I’ll see you again tomorrow!”

“I hope so, too.” Juliet hurried out the door and down the corridor toward the waiting area; she felt as though she was running from a combat encounter but couldn’t figure out why. There had been a certain energy in the air when Violet was with her, and she was sure the woman had some kind of interest in her.

“Then again, maybe she’s like that with everyone; it sounds like she doesn’t get out much.” Juliet shook her head, smiling, as she opened the door and stepped into the waiting area. Almost all the seats were full, and she saw Jensen sitting near the glass doors. “Hey,” she said, walking up to him.

“You’re done? I wish I would’ve gotten an earlier assignment. Been twiddling my thumbs all morning. What’s it like in there?”

“Sorry!” Juliet said, miming zipping her lips. “NDA.”

“Oh, jeez! Seriously? I’m so sick of these endless rules and restrictions. Tell me this much; is it just some eggheads in there, or am I going to get put through some kind of combat scenario?”

Juliet held her chin between her thumb and forefinger and looked off into space for a minute, acting like she had to really think about it, but then she smiled and said, “Eggheads.” With a laugh, she walked out the doors to the elevator. She figured she’d make a quick report to Rachel, and then she could get some time in at the corporate range.

Juliet found herself humming as she entered the elevator and took a moment to analyze why she was in a good mood. She almost laughed at herself when she realized she was excited to go shooting; the Grave range facility had all sorts of weapons she could check out as a member of a Zeta protocol unit, and she’d wanted to practice with one of the gauss rifles; they weren’t nearly as nice as White’s, but they were still fun.

“There’s also that smart SMG Polk was telling me about . . .” she trailed off, starting up her tune again and grinning as she realized it was one of the songs she’d stolen from Hot Mustard’s playlist.