We’ve been at it for nearly two weeks. Chloe, Lindsey, and I have remained behind in Ft. Still, working with Drs. Winfield and Martinek, as I’ve since learned, is Cynthia's name. Meanwhile, the rest of our team headed back home the day after we got started working on my cybernetic arm.
Alana stopped by yesterday, sharing the latest news from back home. More of the same there as well. People trying to make the best of their situation, whatever it might be. Institutions and social mores are near their breaking point as monsters close in. The police and old authorities are finding themselves increasingly unable to handle both the hordes of System-augmented beasts as well as the burgeoning [Crime Lords] and other ne’er-do-wells attempting to claim dominion over little fiefdoms through raw physical might.
I’m sure some of those people despised and denigrated as ‘criminal scum’ are merely those who are trying to scrounge for food, shelter, and other necessities. Even in these trying times, there are those interested in taking advantage of their wealth to gouge the people for a quick buck that doesn’t even mean that much anymore. I have no sympathy for them, even if they are acting within the letter of the law.
As a result of the unstable social order, other groups of less unsavory individuals have been banding together as a counterweight to those with ill intent. Some, such as the group led by Alexey and Nicholas, are directly associated with either law enforcement, the military, or the National Guard. Others, including the three of us, are nominally associated with the old social order but don’t directly report to the national and state authority.
We— including Lindsey, who has been formally decommissioned but continues to liaise between the military folk and Chloe and me— operate something akin to a deputized civilian, given nominal authority and leave by the government to act on our initiative. At least, so long as we act within the confines of a fairly generous code of ethics. Don’t use our authority or Skills to attack innocent civilians, don’t encourage ‘recklessness’, disturb the peace, incite rebellion against the government, and so forth. It is a bit odd for me of all people to be actively siding with the authorities, but I do think this is the best path for me and Chloe, even from a purely selfish perspective.
In addition to those of us nominally attached to the government— whatever is left of it— various groups have started banding together in what might be called a citizen’s militia, or neighborhood watches or concerned citizens’ association. In other cases, people have established what might be likened to the hunter’s or adventurer’s guilds of various video games. Several enterprising individuals, who are either desperate, or who have a penchant for violence without the sociopathy of a criminal, are offering their services as swords-for-hire or private security to individuals and communities alike. After all, there is no shortage of monsters or dangerous criminals, and the government’s resources have been strained to the breaking point.
And yet, despite all the challenges, people are banding together and adapting to the challenges imposed by the System. Violence has not fully supplanted the rule of law. People are still working and going to school and doing what is broadly expected of them— most people, anyway. And the civilization that humanity has built over the last ten thousand years, has not buckled and collapsed. At least… not yet.
“Miss Sera,” Dr. Martinek says. “Can you take a look at this glyph sequence and see if it looks right to you?”
I furrow my brows and look at the arrangement of glyphs. It is… far, far more complicated than the simple arrangements of three or four glyphs and a half dozen linking runes that I’ve been using when [Glyphcasting]. There aren’t a lot of complete glyphs within the diagram. And by ‘not a lot’, I mean exactly two. [Repulsion] and inverted [Repulsion]. Push and pull, flexion and extension. One glyph that pulls, and the inverse to pull backward.
The complexity lies in the hundreds of individual linking runes all tied to one another, linking the glyphs together in patterns so intricate that it’s hard to tell what I’m looking at. In addition to the basic logic gates— the ‘ands’ and ‘ors’ and so forth— there are also dozens of control-flow glyphs that we identified by reverse-engineering their meaning from the robot arm. Do a thing if this condition is met, and move on to another set of checks if it’s not. Or do this other thing a set number of times, or over a set range of possible input values. I understand the generalities behind it, but the specifics are a bit difficult to grok.
I stare at the sheet, expecting to find at least one error. And I do find one. A pair of linking runes that are written out of order. An easy mistake to make, considering that it’s in violation of the previous pattern established by the earlier linkages in the sequence. Just the consequence of including multiple conjunctions and the equivalent of an ill-defined run-on sentence.
I grimace at the poor physical diagramming of the runes involved, though. At least once, I get ready to cross out a rune I know to be incorrect due to the wrong angle of intersection. It should beat a 70 degree angle, but she’s drawn it at an angle closer to 72.5 degrees instead. I’m irritated by the inaccuracy and want to correct it, but I bite my tongue and fight the urge to tear it all out. They are giving a lot of time and effort, all for me, and I need to be respectful of that time and energy.
Stolen novel; please report.
I do, however, resolve to do all the glyphs on the final product myself, trusting myself and my Skills even more than I trust the computer programs generally used in materials design. I dread how awful it would be for me had I taken a different starting class, one that lacks the versatility of the almighty [Tinkerer] skill and the subtle insights and nudges it provides. I’d never be able to rebuild myself to even a fraction of my previous effectiveness in combat. But as I am, with the work of the professors assisting me? I think I can rebuild myself better and stronger, more versatile than I ever was before.
Forget merely replacing my lost functionality. It should be possible to greatly augment everything that I once was. For now, simply having a functional arm is a large improvement. But as my knowledge of glyphs improves, and with it, the ability to create more elaborate designs? I would say that the sky is the limit, but I don’t want to sell the possibilities short.
I hand the designs back to Dr. Martinek. “I’m not going to speak to whether the logic gates themselves are optimal or correctly designed. I know that’s not my area of expertise and I’m not going to attempt to correct that part. Everything looks good except for this part right here.” I point to a pair of linking runes. “I know it’s counterintuitive and defies the general conventions, but since you’re linking four or more different statements here, you need this extra flourish over the rune to specify the relationship.”
“And you’re sure this is correct?”
“Sure enough to stake the functionality and safety of this mechanical arm on it.”
The professor sighs, and I think I see the barest hint of an eyeroll that she suppresses a moment later. “I just wanted to double-check.”
I smile. “I appreciate it, and I’m sorry if I’m coming off the wrong way.”
She takes a deep breath. “I think it’s partially me as well. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. A lot of nights on three and four hours of sleep. A lot of disrespect from my peers and faculty members who didn’t want to work with a woman in the field. Trying to be a professional and a woman means having to work twice as hard for half as much recognition, all while every mistake you make is subject to twice as much scrutiny.”
I nod, understanding exactly the implication that she’s making. It’s probably exactly the same for Chloe’s mother, trying to make it as a corporate manager in the oil and gas business. And I have to imagine the ridicule part is even worse than the glass ceilings. And though I don’t mean any offense by it, my mere presence can be seen as that of some upstart barely old enough to be considered an adult. One who’s working on completely new fields of study, without the decades of formal training that she and the other professors had to go through.
It’s really not fair to her. Then again, it’s really not fair to all of us. And some part of me can’t help but wonder: Am I, or at least the old Seraphina, responsible for bringing the System to Earth? Even if I didn’t intend for it to happen, whatever force allowed me to jump to Earth might have brought the System with it, or at least showed the System where to look. Just makes it even more my responsibility to get back out there on the field of battle, doing what I can to defend the people of my new home.
I’m awake until late in the evening, building the structure for my new arm based on the blueprints the professors and I have been developing. Even once the laboratory closes shortly after seven in the evening, I bring the prototype back to the dorm room where Chloe and I are staying to continue working. Even with only one arm, my [Intermediate Ether Manipulation] allows me to effortlessly chip away at the little imperfections in the overall design and sculpt it to my exact liking.
We went with a titanium-aluminum alloy to construct it, reasoning that it has a good balance of strength, ductility, durability, and resistance to both corrosion and oxidation. It weighs about eighteen pounds, but even with my current [Strength], I barely feel it. Even when I slot it into my shoulder stump, the strain on my shoulder and upper back is virtually nonexistent.
As I set it back down to continue my task, Chloe walks into the dorm room where we’ve been staying, shaking her head as she lies down on her bed.
“I know this is exciting for you, Sera, but you need to go to sleep soon. It’ll do us no good if you stay up so late that you end up making a critical mistake in your fatigue, and then we’re here another four weeks building you another prosthetic.”
“But–”
“No buts on this one. Healer’s orders.”
I sigh and accept defeat. Mostly because I know she’s right. I lie down on the other bed, only to be smacked in the face by a peanut and granola bar.
“And I’m sure you didn’t eat anything for dinner, either. Seriously, Sera, where would you be without me?”
“As I’ve said before and I’m sure you’ll have me say again and again, I’d be dead. Probably several times over, you literal lifesaver.”
She grins. The lights are out, but her radiant smile shines brightly in my [Ethersight] all the same. As soon as I flicker them on, she spins around on her bed and gazes toward me.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are when you do that?”
“I don’t think you have, Chloe.”
She saunters across the tiny room and sidles up next to me on the small bed, curling into me and draping my one arm around her. “I know you said you aren’t ready for anything more just yet, but, can I have this much? Just for tonight, Sera?”
I close my eyes as her hair finds its way into my face. Damn. It does smell nice. Even during the apocalypse, she manages to get her hair to smell so damn nice.
“Fine, Chloe,” I relent. “Just for tonight.”