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Fiction Science Fiction Speculative

This story contains themes or mentions of mental health issues.

Breathing in deeply the brisk filtered air filled my lungs. Chin up and arms stretching wide greeting the day. The artificial sun had yet to warm up the new dawn. Morning is my favorite part of my day. I return inside from the balcony, dark metal clanging under my boots. Murmurs of my wife and daughter getting ready down the hall following me to the kitchen. 

With a few mental commands to my interface, the kitchen hums to life. The kettle clicks on, the pantry door opens, and Admin Sphere News lazily scrolls across the nearest wall. Distractedly reading the highlights, I grope for a bowl and the jar of pancake mix. On autopilot, I scoop pancake mix before scraping alerted me I had hit the bottom of the jar. A couple of eye clicks later and it was added household requisition list. Tugging, my lips forming a smirk. I worked hard to earn the right to cook at home. No terrible dining hall food for the head of the Detection Department and his family!

Contentedly I sigh, flicking back to the news. No pressing issues this morning. I could eat in peace, surrounded by the two greatest loves of my life. 

"Pampakes Daddy!" Joy's voice yelled shrilly, dashing into the room with no pants in sight. My wife Prudent close on her heels. Joy's favorite purple leggings wave like a flag of surrender in her hand.

"You have to wear pants to eat pancakes, Honey." Prudent says, a bit breathless from her dash to the kitchen after our wild child. Her scrubs matched the purple pants in her hands. Prudent and joy will look like two matching peas in a pod today. 

I set the bowl I was wisking on the counter. Swooping Joy up into a hug she wriggles as I gave her morning kisses. "Pampakes aren't even ready yet! Put your pants on silly willy!" With me holding the giggling child captive, Prudent was able to pull her pants on with little struggle.

We kiss good morning over our child's head and she begins protesting loudly, "Ew! let me down, daddy! Let Joy down!" 

With mirroring smiles I deposit Joy on the tile floor, her dark curls wild and bouncing as ran to her toy chest in the attached living room. Prudent watches her go, so I slip a hand around her waist and pull her in. Kissing her deeply. The sweet scent of her shampoo mingling in my nose with her fresh minty breath. My heart thuds in my chest with her near. 

Fingers slipped up my neck pulling at my hair, and I came away from the kiss breathless. "Someone is in a good mood this morning."

"How could I not be when you're around my love?" Soft kisses on my jaw and neck causing my head to tilt and my eyes to close. My hands drift lower down her back. We never could keep our hands off each other. 

"PAMPAKES!" screeching came from across the room. Interupping what would have been a very fun morning 4 years ago. 

The pale blue of the ceiling mocks me as Prudent chuckles and pulls away. "You're the one who applied for the child permit Unity." She murmurs, moving to the now boiling kettle and taking down two cups. 

"You asked me to!" indignation coloring my voice, returning to the abandoned bowl of batter. 

"Sure, but you agreed to it." Placing a teasing kiss on my cheek and setting a brewing cup of tea next to me. "Looks like it will be a calm day out in the hermitage," distant eyes telling me she was also checking the morning updates. 

"I hope it stays that way. Any day I don't have to call in the team is a good one." Prudent nods in agreement still reading. 

Soon the smell and sizzle of the batter baited our toddler to the kitchen table. Prudent helps her into her booster seat while I flipped out the first batch. I dusted them with a bit of powdered icing sugar and brought them over. Joy practically crawls onto the table in eagerness and the table wobbles dangerously under her. 

"You forgot to pick up the new leveler foot yesterday from the printer didn't you?" 

My mouth opened and closed a few times while I sputtered, "Well. I mean. You see! I got home so late. It was a hard day yesterday! There were 3 destabilizations to correct and a new weaver found!" My eyebrows rose to hide in my dark hair neatly brushed across my brow. 

Raising an eyebrow, she gave me her look, "Mmhmm, pick it up on the way to work today then?" 

"Ah, very Prudent wife of mine!" I hold my hand up and a sticky high-five comes my way. 

In mock indignation, she shakes a finger at Joy, "Don't high-five daddy for that! Tickle mommy is coming for you!" 

"You're on your own!" Giggling filled the room. I dash away back to the stove to finish cooking breakfast. Prudent tickled the trapped child until she asked her to stop. 

Slipping into her own chair they both caught their breath. Carefully balancing both our plates and my tea, I came over joining them at the table. The extruded plastic table had been brand new when I was given this allotment upon my promotion 5 years ago. Turns out toddlers were pretty hard on furniture. Sometimes we'd joke that Joy could climb before she could walk. 

We talk and eat over breakfast, toward the end a blinking blue indicator in the corner of my vision informed me my serotonin levels were elevated. Grinning I leaned back, taking it all in. My wife was explaining that stuffed dogs did not in fact eat pancakes. The blue-green table was now sturdily braced with a children's book. Off-white counters and kitchen appliances on my left, and a couch and 2 armchairs sitting in the carpet dents on my right. An entertainment center with both a video screen and a holo-projector waiting for the next family movie night. 

Click. Send. My wife slides her eyes to her own notification and opens the picture I sent across our link. She rolls them suppressing a smile. It shows our daughter pouting at the small stuffed dog she had snuck to the table, completely covered in powdered sugar. Prudent struggling to contain a smile at her adorable visage while holding a hand out to take it to wash. It was a perfect snapshot of our life together. The joy and challenge our daughter had brought into our lives. 

BEEP. "Incoming system message" BEEP. My head tilts to listen to the notification only I can hear. My food churns sourly in my stomach. 

System Notification:

E3-RC in Unit 194 has failed to back up data to the pod. This error has been recorded 6 times. System troubleshooting is ineffective. Error recorded in defragmentation for an unknown length of time. 

Stability in Unit 194 is 73%. The current main cause is E3-RC. The secondary cause is neural network density is at minimum levels. Warning, if the neural network dips below 70% there is a high risk the whole unit will collapse.

Recommendation:

Terminate E3-RC. Estimated to bring stability of unit to minimum levels of 85%. It is recommended to dispatch investigators to the pod to discover if there is a Weaver genesis. Caution and a full team are recommended.

The secondary recommendation is to add more people to Unit 194's neural network to increase stability further. The minimum recommended is 4 people. Please see the secondary education unit graduate lists for candidate suggestions.

Clenching my jaw and furrowing my brows, I type a quick reply on the interface. "Dispatch team one to comply. -Head Engineer Unity."

I close my eyes and the interface at the same time. When I open them Prudent watches me with concern. The little blue light was now blinking red. Our link had notified her I was in some mental distress. "I have to go to work," I say simply. The statement was loaded with all the things we agreed not to say in front of Joy. At least not until she was a bit older. 

She nods in sympathy, "I'll get Joy to the child center on my way to the hospital. Let me know if you'll be home late." We find each other's hands across the table and she gives mine a squeeze. "Make sure to take your pill if you need to." 

"Yes, Doctor Prudent." I forcefully tug the corner of my mouth up attempting a smile, but the alert took all the wind out of my sails. 

A tiny sticky hand and a very crusty stuffed dog pile onto our clasping hands. Tilting my head looking at Joy, her deep brown eyes and a ready smile aim at me. "Have a good day at work daddy!" 

Replacing the fake smile with a real one I say, "Thank you, Honey!" With one hand holding both of theirs, I wrap my free arm around her and kiss her curls. I didn't want her sticky hands or stuffed animal wiped on my work uniform. I also want to hold both of their hands a minute longer. 

Reluctantly I let go of them. Moving around the booster chair to give my wife a quick kiss goodbye. When I pull away she huffs indignantly and grabs my collar, pulling me in for a deeper kiss. 

A pat pat pat on my butt later and I was pulling away groaning. I'd be surprised if there weren't a tiny white sticky handprint on my butt. 

"Bye, bye daddy!" Arg! If she wasn't just the cutest stickiest kid in the whole Hermitage! 

"Bye bye Joy," I say my wife giggling at me while I check my own butt. There was indeed a handprint. 

The dark metal floor clanks yet again under my boots as I dash to the bedroom to do a quick change into a clean purple jumpsuit. Then I head out the door. My bag with my datapad and helmet swinging from my shoulder as I hurry along down through the small walkways connecting the living quarters to the rest of the Admin Sphere. 

Humming, whirring, and beeping sounds accompanied by blinking, pulsing, and flashing lights make the path feel like it was alive. In a way it was. The whole Hermitage was constantly monitored and controlled by the A.I. system invented hundreds of years ago to save humanity from collapse. Connected by the systems under my feet to the units full that provided its massive living neural network. A massive living network I was in charge of monitoring and stabilizing. 

My job was one of the most important jobs in the whole Hermitage. Even above the science team working tirelessly to bring the world back into balance so one day we could live in the world again. My job was second only to the small team that interfaced directly with the A.I. system. It was vital and necessary and I did it with pride. It also fills me with sadness. After all, when you boiled it down. I kill people for a living.

The artificial sun didn't burn away the shadow hanging over my head, but it did inform me of another joining me in my hurried walk. Ivy's shadow proceeds her on the walkway. Silent as always, it was my only warning she had arrived. 

"Good morning Handler," her voice as clipped as ever. I wouldn't be pleased with a collar around my neck either, but it was necessary to prevent spirit walking. 

"Good morning Ivy." we pass through the upper hydroponics section. The white of the 3D-printed beds contrasts with the colorful plants contained within. The algae farms for feeding the pods were lower down. The ones we pass hold the foods that sustained the Admin and the Weavers. We knew the way to this unit. It had been giving us problems for some time. 

"Another decommissioning?" she queries. Glancing at her, I take in her unbuttoned jumpsuit and her black gloves sticking out of her back pocket. Bouncing on her pack her helmet and datapad threaten to fall out of her unzipped backpack.

"Yes, and when we get there I expect you to be buttoned up." She rolls her eyes in response. "We do our job with dignity for we are the last those we remove see in their lives." I lecture.

By the end, she is muttering it under her breath with me and buttoning up the front of her jumpsuit over her white undershirt. Her red hair spills around her face as she looks down at the buttons like they personally affront her. 

"Where's Decker?" I ask as we walk and Ivy shrugs at me. 

Suddenly clanging of running feet grows louder as Decker skids into view a bagel from dining clutched between his teeth as he frantically does up his own purple jumpsuit. His blonde unruly hair, normally brushed into a semblance of neatness was now windswept and messy from his mad dash. 

"I found Decker," Ivy states benignly. 

"Indeed," I reply. "Decker, we have a decommissioning, a little decorum please." 

"Sorry Handler, the toaster was on the fritz again." He shoves the bagel into his mouth. 3 quick bites later and it was gone and he was carelessly brushing crumbs off his suit. Ivy reached out and ran a hand through his hair with partial success. Good enough.

We pass the rest of the journey through the veins of the Hermitage in silence. Soon we arrive at the control sphere for the sector. With a few clicks of my interface, the control sphere wakes up. The door swishes open for us to enter. We will link directly to the Unit from here allowing us to investigate the programming and neural network. I allow my two weavers to proceed me into the pod. 

They begin setting up for the dive while I take a moment and rattle out one of the pills my wife prescribes to me to help level my mood while doing this job. I pop it in and swallow it dry. The bitter taste was familiar in my mouth. Life was much simpler when I was just an engineer tasked with pulling weavers from the threads of the neural network when they caused problems.

Weavers could subconsciously hack into the A.I. and other systems and change their programing. Bypassing firewalls and safeguards with ease. Using their emotions to fuel their weavings and make it possible to affect very real changes in the artificial reality that sustained most of humanity. Unfortunately, that also meant dealing with their rogue spirits. 

Spirits were weavers who caused havoc within the A.I. and even with Admin Interfaces. Threatening the whole balance of the Hermitage. Spirits destroyed delicate systems and fried brains without meaning to. The sooner we found and pulled them out the sooner they could be used as assets. Adding to the stability of the artificial world we kept 80% of the population in. The collars around their necks kept them from doing anything but the most basic tasks while off duty. Unfortunately, we couldn't disconnect them fully. The surgeries my wife did to hook them to the neural network were permanent affairs. 

Stooping I walked into the tiny door into the control sphere and sit down on my dive bench. I look at the two I pulled before the detection division was even a possibility. I fought with Ivy and Decker's spirits when they were still just I9-IV and I0-OX. Tracking them down to their units and pulling them from the weave. I put the collars that were blinking at me around their necks on myself. Then the Quilter Jiro came along. 

Looking at myself in the reflection of my helmet's glass, my hazel eyes and carefully combed hair stared back at me. Haunting memories of the time before we allowed Quilter Jiro to reprogram huge swaths of the A.I. Changing the fabric of the whole weave. Spirits had been on the rise, and we couldn't keep up with them. People were dying as they messed with the agricultural systems and short-circuited interfaces.

Quilter Jiro was pulled by another team. Quilters only happened once in a generation. We thought it was a sign. He petitioned to make the detection division, finding instabilities and weavers before they could break out of their realities. We voted, and he was granted leave. Even the A.I. signed off on it. He burnt himself out saving us from the spirits. 

"Helmet's on Handler," Decker says from his seat pulling me from my memories. I was avoiding thinking of what we were about to do.

Both Ivy and Decker's helmets were already on. They couldn't dive until I released them. Ivy's eyes burned with her desire to go to the world she loved.

Pulling my helmet on I brief them, "We are going to unit 194, we will find and assess E3-RC to see if he is a weaver genesis. If not, we will be decommissioning him and wiping his memories from the unit. Afterward, you two will examine the weave and make sure there are no problems in the programming." I look at them both and they nod.

"Maintenance will deal with problems in the hardware. Let's go." 

With that, I turn off the inhibitors and we dive into the world most of humanity thought was the only reality. We were the hidden support system behind the scenes. I keep my daughter in mind as we enter their world. It was for her. One day she'd have an interface. I could not let spirits run rapport anymore. Not when we had the means to stop them.

I wish I didn't have to kill people for a living, but I will make a better future for Joy. I will enforce stability by any means necessary to protect her life and happiness.

March 05, 2023 19:08

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