Jump to content
Sign in to follow this  
Dr Archeville

Unbalanced: Dragonfly's Oct 2010 Vignette

Recommended Posts

October 31st, in the evening

Mara Hallomen sat on the floor in the corner of her darkened warehouse, disheveled, knees to her chest. With wide, empty eyes she looked up at a program running on her computer. estimated duration 11:20 - have to stay alive and sane for 11 hours and 20 minutes - have to stay aware - have to stay together - I am me - I am my own - I am free

She shuddered, and the world melted away....

5 Hours Ago

Dragonfly scowled, wiping a hand across her face and slowly turning her head to give the dealer a very angry eye. He couldn’t meet her gaze, though: he was unconscious, along with the rest of his friends. His last desperate act was to give her a face full of...something. unknown substance - analyze at home - call cops - pr-j-ct 2-0-- u--ini-hed wo-k in----lete p-----t- -re b-- m--t --t b- ba- s--po--- to -e a g--d ---l

She blinked. what....?

140160 Hours Ago

Blocks were pretty fun, Mara had decided. The nice men in the suits had given them to her - she liked them. They brought things! And these could be put on top of each other to great effect. The old blocks just had letters, and letters were boring. But these blocks had numbers! Numbers and neat symbols. She’d figured out what those symbols meant a while ago, but she was awfully clever...the adults didn’t know! They were her symbols, for her games, not for them. Her secret things. Still, the men in suits were so nice. Maybe she’d give them one of the symbols when they left. In the meantime, she started putting the blocks together; this number and that one and those...with these symbols...there! All balanced and neat. Numbers were awesome.

Behind her, the men in suits watched and nodded. They were talking to her mother, but that was okay, they’d been doing that for a while. Her mother was awesome and tough! If they weren’t nice suit men, she’d make them go away. She did last time!

3 Hours Ago

It was getting harder...to think. Her thoughts, anyway. Her identity, her own personal drive, was having to tread water to stay afloat among a resurgence of thoughts and feelings she didn’t want to remember...didn’t want in her head. Broken, mechanical thoughts, all arranged in chaotic perfect order to meet and serve the ends of... no - don’t think about it - push it away - no blind projects no happy project-solving no mindless compliance

The screen was running analysis - zombie powder couldn’t have done this to her head. It had to be some kind of bad interaction between things still in her system and the powder itself, some bad slippage or regression or...

She pulled her visor off, rubbing the bridge of her nose and wishing the computer would analyze faster. She’d pulled some strings to get this program and she needed to know how long this would last and how bad it could get.

48180 Hours Ago

The project wasn’t complete but it had to be complete because there were very important - no, not important, never important, only important thing was the work and the work had to be done because there was always so much of it and this wasn’t nearly lethal enough it had to reach at least 80% mortality rate maybe if the radiation was more aggressive? multiple planes of application boost frequency here extra power drain but the cells can take it special order - no, not order, special challenge, just for her because she was important - friendly fire not important design unfinished too many projects may have to skip sleep again have to meet deadlines have to work alone better that way more...more....

Mara slumped a bit, hanging her head and rubbing the bridge of her nose. She was just so...tired, like she’d been at this for...how long? She was having a hard time keeping track...there were no clocks here, clocks encouraged weakness. The pile of design papers to her left was getting thicker and thicker...she wasn’t sure when that had happened. She knew she had to get at least three of them done by the end of the week, but she didn’t...didn’t...why, again? Why make all these things that hurt all these people, when

The telepath near the ever-locked door looked up from his newspaper, and narrowed his eyes. Suddenly it didn’t matter why, or when, or how; the project had to be finished, and it was a simple as that. All questions were forgotten; they weren’t important to the engineering task at hand. And what a task! The power cell would need to be redesigned, the barrel would need some kind of shaped twisting on the inside to keep from wearing down and no maybe it wouldn’t work that way perhaps an electric field was better static is sustainable in some compounds and those can line the center only if a barrel is necessary at all radiation could be directed through any number of ways and spread isn’t always bad because it can hit more targets that way and perhaps that better fit the design request that she’d gotten because she was special and only she could provide what was needed for very important tasks that she didn’t need to know about.

Unfinished projects were bad. It was very important that she not be bad, because she was supposed to be a good girl, because...because...because that’s just what was important.

0 Hours Ago

Somewhere just outside the warehouse her defense system took out another of the zombies that were wandering the area lately with the usual whine and discharge. She didn’t notice, blinking her way back to reality like a swimmer coming up for air, even then barely aware of what was going on around her.

Mara Hallomen sat on the floor in the corner of her darkened warehouse, disheveled, knees to her chest. With wide, empty eyes she looked up at a program running on her computer. estimated duration 11:15 - have to stay alive and sane for 11 hours and 15 minutes - have to stay aware - have to stay together - I am me - I am my own - I am free

I am me

I am my own

I am free

I am me

I am my own

I am free

Share this post


Link to post
Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
Sign in to follow this  

×