The Razor's Edge

Craylxz floated behind Domar Juyk as the slender overseer slipped effortlessly through the connected cerebral units. Juyk was almost twice the height of Craylxz and possessed six limbs, two of which propelled him across the floor with barely perceptible sucks and pops. Juyk’s next two limbs ended in four-fingered hands, which were typically either gesturing or delivering punishment. The last two limbs terminated in cupped tips that could be used for holding things but were usually clasped behind him.

The walls of the chamber whooshed and puffed, breathing in oxygen and emitting the precise chemical composition needed to keep both the cerebral units and their overseers alive. Stout Craylxz felt akin to the walls as he expelled oxygen through his pores at the rate necessary to stay the pre-requisite distance behind his Domar and not float past him or slam into a unit. In two of Craylxz’s three-fingered hands he held an interface device that displayed a constant stream of neural waveforms. His third hand flitted over the device in an attempt to notate the instructions from Juyk. The acquisition of the biological transport chamber had been a major find for the Domar’s race, the Vyrlk. Although the last cerebral network had lasted a mere twenty cycles, these human units were highly compatible with the transport chamber and had been calculating for nearly three hundred.

Craylxz felt awestruck any time he wandered amid the units. There were thirty in his chamber, and although he was not a Domar, he felt personally responsible for every single one. That’s what caused him to call his overseer here today. One of the units had been exhibiting strange neural patterns. Craylxz had followed protocol and disconnected the unit and processed it through a purge and wipe procedure, but that had only worked for ten cycles. The unit was once again starting to exhibit the fluctuating pattern.

Juyk stopped to examine the connection stalk on the offending unit. “Craylxz, show me the display.”

Craylxz isolated the requested waveform, floated over to his Domar, and held the display out where the Domar could read it.

“Hmm, I see nothing wrong with the stalk. You say you’ve purged and wiped this unit once already?”

“Yes, Domar Juyk. Ten cycles ago. The pattern isn’t as strange as it was before I wiped it, but it’s off enough that I wanted to make sure it wasn’t causing an error in the calculations.”

Juyk waved him away with one hand while the other two disconnected the stalk. “We’ve had no report of any anomalies, Craylxz. Bring up the stalk analyzer. Organics can be a bit finicky and perhaps the error is in the transfer, not the unit itself.”

Craylxz swiped the pattern display from the screen and opened the analyzer. Juyk placed the rubbery suction end of the stalk against the screen and watched. Colored arcs bounced mesmerizingly around the connection.

“Very minor fluctuations. Well within specifications,” said Juyk. “I suggest you clean the stalk anyway. When you’re done, purge and wipe the unit again. If it continues to be an issue, we’ll terminate the connection. And Craylxz, I don’t expect to hear from you again unless there’s a unit out of specifications. You may feel you’re attuned to these units, but the fact is they have a job to do and any disruptions could cost us the war. That is, unless you’d prefer to take the unit’s place?” Without waiting for a reply, Juyk turned to leave. “Oh, and you might try increasing the strength of the sleep wave for this unit. Understood?”

Craylxz grayed his skin in submission. “Yes, Domar.” He did his best to not vibrate with anger until he heard the slurp of the chamber’s sphincter contract and relax.

Jose flailed for the button to silence the offending alarm. It wasn’t the clock’s fault he had to get up at “Oh-my-god-thirty” in the morning to get to work. He shuffled into the bathroom, flipped the light on, and gazed in the mirror. A puffy middle-aged face with sprinkles of gray at the temples looked back at him. When had he gotten so old? He couldn’t remember being more than twenty. He showered, dressed, ate his typical bowl of cereal and headed out the door to work.

Jose slipped into his office and turned on his computer. While it booted, he grabbed some coffee from the automated cart and said his good mornings to his teammates. He had just enough time to return to his desk and take a couple of swigs of coffee before the phones began to ring.

The first two hours were non-stop basic questions. Jose could have answered these in his sleep, and sometimes he wondered if he didn’t. Then a real call came in. He opened up the browser to do an initial search of the answer database and noticed an odd bookmark. Nestled between “Nullspace matrices” and “Orthogonal subspaces” was an entry titled “Open Me.” Curious, but also quite aware that the bean counters were monitoring his response rate, Jose noted the existence of the file and returned to the question. The pleading link would have to wait until lunch.

When his turn for lunch came, he downloaded the text file associated with the link and scanned it for viruses. When it came back clean, he opened it and read the first line. “None of this is real.” An ice-pick pain jolted him upright and the world went black.

Craylxz lifted the unit from its cradle. It disconnected from the pulse grid with a pop as the suction released. Craylxz gingerly placed the unit in the purge mesh. He glanced up at the many eyes embedded in the chamber’s walls and wondered if Domar Juyk was watching him. Craylxz kept his expression neutral, but inside he was seething at Domar Juyk’s comments. The Vyrlk had subjugated Craylxz’s system five standard fleet years ago. Craylxz’s people proved to be incompatible with the cerebral chambers, so the Vyrlk had deemed them too stupid for anything other than cerebral unit maintenance. It was easier to comply than rebel, but at times like this, Craylxz longed for retribution.

Craylxz watched the progress meter, allowing himself a discontented huff. Arcs of electrical currents shot into the cerebral matter at regular intervals making the system crackle. When the purge and wipe finished, Craylxz disconnected the unit and began the arduous task of cleaning the stalk. He gently wiped out each fold and wondered if the unit was aware of anything during this period. With no electrical impulses to fire the neurons, he doubted it, but sometimes he imagined that they could still think and feel on their own. After he finished meticulously applying the conducting gel to the folds of the stalk, he placed the unit back in its cradle. The reintroduction of electrical impulses caused the folds of the unit to twitch, and Craylxz involuntarily retracted his arms at the memory of the Vrylk submission sticks. He glanced up at the eyes again. He was sure the overseer was laughing at his weakness. He grabbed the interface device and increased the sleep wave intensity by a factor of two. Noting the wave patterns, he deemed his task complete and retreated to his chamber where he could collapse without shame.

Jose slipped into his office and turned on his computer. He was especially tired this morning, so he grabbed two cups of coffee from the automated cart.

The first two hours were non-stop basic questions. Jose felt like he had been answering these in his sleep, when a real call came in. He opened up the browser to do an initial search of the answer database and noticed an odd bookmark. Nestled between “Nullspace matrices” and “Orthogonal subspaces” was an entry titled “Open Me.” He answered the customer’s question and rested his head in his hands. Something about the odd entry seemed familiar, but right now he was just too tired to care. A song kept running through his head, and he found himself nodding off. He knew it’d count against him, but he clocked out and headed home. The file would have to wait until tomorrow.

Craylxz panicked when he saw the latest computation count. Obviously increasing the sleep wave had produced the opposite effect in the unit. He knew the overseer would blame him for the mistake rather than take any responsibility for suggesting the increase to begin with. However, the overseer had said he didn’t want to be bothered unless the unit was out of specifications, so Craylxz didn’t have to report the discrepancy. Technically, the unit was operating within specifications. The computation count was low, but the wave pattern was still good. Barely. If he reduced the sleep wave, maybe the unit’s production would increase enough to average out the computations to normal. Sure, it wasn’t sanctioned, but at this point he cared less about that and more about making sure the chamber met the efficiency target when the report came due in twenty cycles. Craylxz reduced the offending unit’s sleep. Now he just had to wait and see.

Jose woke an hour before his alarm went off. When he got to the office, he looked longingly into his coffee mug. He had ended up at work so early the automated coffee cart hadn’t even begun its rounds. Jose tried to remember if there was anything he’d left unfinished yesterday and decided to check his files and see if he’d left himself any notes. He didn’t find a list, so he decided it couldn’t hurt to go over the browser entries. After all, everyone’s performance was monitored and maybe this would give him the edge he needed to get a commendation. He opened up the home page and began to read the list of entries. When he got to the N’s and O’s, he noticed something odd. Nestled between “Nullspace matrices” and “Orthogonal subspaces” was an entry titled “Open Me.”

Jose hesitated before clicking on the link. He was leery of opening something as blatant as a link that said Open Me. However, he was curious and had some time. When he clicked the link, a prompt requesting a file name provided him with the option OpenMe(27).docx. This meant that he had done this exact thing twenty-six times, but this was the first time he could recall seeing the entry. He opened the downloads folder and checked the details of the files. They weren’t the same file size, but they all appeared to have the same date. Today. Time wise, the results were scattered throughout the day.

Jose checked his watch. He had five minutes before his shift started. They had a very strict quota to adhere to, and the last thing he wanted was for his actions to penalize his teammates. If they didn’t meet their quota, everyone on the team would get a mark. Three marks and you were fired. That meant no job, no housing, and pretty much no future in the tech field. He’d have to read fast. He opened version one.

“None of this is real. Today will be mostly like every other day. You will get the following questions. Hopefully, this will convince you.”

Jose quickly skimmed the list of questions before reading on.

“Something is controlling us. Every night your memory will be wiped, but some fragments remain. I, you, found a way to save this file on the server. If you remember something, add it and save it in the same location. George always wears a red shirt with a striped blue tie.”

Jose closed the file and stared off into the distance. Something about it rang true. It was Wednesday, so he should remember something from the last two days. He could recall older events—graduating with his Masters in Computer Science and his first job with the NSA—but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here, in the customer service department of Compu, Inc.

The sound of the elevator bell pulled Jose from his thoughts. Out of the door came George wearing a red shirt with a striped blue tie. Jose did his best to remain expressionless as he waved to George.

“Early morning, Jose?” asked George.

“Couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d try to get the team’s numbers up,” replied Jose.

“Well, thanks for that. Wish I could make it out of bed before the alarm.” He disappeared into his cubicle.

Jose shook his head. Maybe it was just a coincidence. There was one way to find out. He opened the last file version and scrolled to the list of phone calls. If those were the same too, he’d add a note to the file and save it.

After the first ten phone calls matched, Jose started using the list to anticipate the next call. By the end of the day he’d answered ten more calls than were on the list. He noted each one and added a line to the top of the file. “Add a date line every time you save this file and increase the number if the date is the same. Today is Wednesday, October 22-1. I added 10 lines to the call list.” He saved and closed the file.

Craylxz was overjoyed when he saw the increase in efficiency from the unit and noted that the waveforms were still within specifications. The extra computations hadn’t made up the deficit from the previous day, but they were a start. He reduced the sleep wave even further. He’d need to monitor the unit to make sure it remained within specifications. Once he figured out the limits, he’d increase the efficiency of all the units. He’d prove his worth to Domar Juyk. He could see the report now, Craylxz, caretaker of cerebral unit 469, wins the war. Maybe he’d even be the first Domar of his kind. Then Juyk would have to respect him.

Jose woke two full hours before his alarm was set to go off. When he got to work, the automated lighting system hadn’t even triggered for the day. He recalled putting some notes in a file and found one dated Wednesday, October 22, 5:32am. He checked the clock on his computer. Wednesday, October 22, 4:55am.

Add a date line every time you save this file and increase the number if the date is the same. Today is Wednesday, October 22-32. He was living in some sort of time loop, and he suspected the world as he knew it wasn’t real. There were several facts to check, which included exact positions of pens and pencils as well as a drawing of the pattern the coffee left when he finished his first cup. He read the list of things he’d figured out in the last thirty-two days. He and his co-workers were being controlled by something or someone. He’d started to hack into the corporation’s system, and after two weeks of failed attempts, Jose had found a backdoor. The last two sentences said: The song makes you sleepy. When you sleep, you forget.

Jose had no idea what the warning meant, but he did know what a backdoor was and he had an hour before anyone else would arrive. He followed the detailed instructions until his commands slammed against a security protocol. At least he was able to see some system files, and none of them appeared to be in his journal. It was some sort of communication hub. The structure was unlike anything he’d seen before. At first glance, the files seemed to be created and removed at random, but Jose knew there was always a pattern even if you couldn’t see it at first. The system he used for his customer support job appeared to be a standard version of Windows. However, what he was in now felt more organic. If he could figure out what the machine language was for this processor, he might be able to program something to analyze the pattern. Right now, all he could do was observe. For the next hour, Jose watched the files and entered information about them in his journal.

At the end of his shift, Jose headed to the bathroom instead of going straight to the elevator. He knew they required everyone to leave, but he wanted to stay and solve the mystery. He slipped into a stall and perched himself on the toilet seat. When the main lights went off, he stumbled his way back to his workstation. He assumed there’d be security guards, but when he thought about it he couldn’t recall ever seeing any. After an hour, no guard had appeared and Jose had logged at least a hundred more changes. He sat back and closed his tired eyes. He could make out the faint sound of a familiar song playing. Jose yawned and shook his head. He remembered the last sentence of yesterday’s entry. When you sleep, you forget.

Craylxz vibrated with excitement. He’d reduced the sleep wave of all the units, and they’d already attained a 50% increase in calculations. Juyk’s commander, Salar Kluyth, was coming to see unit 469. Craylxz made sure to polish his skin and scent it so that it wouldn’t offend the Salar. This visit was his moment to shine. The Salar would recognize that Craylxz was not worthless and that he deserved to be a Domar. Craylxz floated off to the side of the sphincter with his interface device ready and displaying the efficiency graphs. The telltale slurp signaled the relaxing of the sphincter and through the opening passed Salar Kluyth and Domar Juyk, followed by two officers. The Salar was slightly smaller than Juyk but held himself in such a way that he seemed twice his stature. His upper limbs were decorated in bright yellow sleeves that provided a stark contrast to his deep blue skin.

Craylxz waited obediently to be introduced to the Salar. Instead, Juyk grabbed the interface unit from his hands and continued into the chamber.

“As you can see, Salar, I have almost doubled the calculation capability of this chamber and all of the waveforms remain within specifications. These human brains are proving quite the asset to our mission.” Juyk handed the interface unit to Kluyth.

Kluyth perused the graphs and charts and handed the unit back to Juyk. “Very impressive, Domar. If we can get all the chambers to perform this well, we’ll have the necessary calculations done in another forty cycles. Keep this up and you’ll be looking at a promotion.”

Juyk bowed to the Salar, his upper limbs held out in respect. “My thanks, Salar Kluyth. The fleet must conquer.”

“The fleet must conquer,” replied Kluyth.

Juyk and Klutyh continued their conversation, but Craylxz didn’t hear a word. How could the Domar do this to him? The Domar hadn’t increased the efficiency, Craylxz had. Craylxz doubted that Juyk even understood what it had taken to get the units to perform and still remain in the required specifications, much less been capable of doing it himself.

Craylxz vibrated after the entourage departed, this time in a low rumble of anger rather than excitement.

Jose sat down in the dark office, immediately opened the file and checked the first line. The events of the previous days were still like a dream, but they were more of a lucid dream than the type that disappears when you wake. He updated the date from October 22-36 to 22-37 and saved the file. George and the rest would be arriving soon, but they had just started to “wake up” and Jose had a new idea on how to break into the communication hub. At least he thought it was a new idea. He quickly skimmed the file for his last notes. When he was sure he hadn’t made this attempt before, he set to work.

When George came in, Jose was staring at the screen in a cross between horror and amazement.

“What’re you looking at, Jose? Did you find a way to hack into cable?” George set down his coffee and leaned over Jose’s shoulder. “Looks like you found some campy sci-fi show.”

Jose scrambled to regain his composure. “Uh. What?” He didn’t know exactly what he was seeing, but he definitely knew it wasn’t a cable feed. Rather than try to explain, Jose replied, “Oh, yeah, it’s some strange cable show. Maybe a re-run of a Dr. Who episode.”

“Well, don’t let the boss see you and don’t let it affect your quota. I don’t want to be the one to make up for your sorry ass.” George picked up his coffee and headed to his workstation.

Jose nodded. He had to figure out what he was watching soon. It wouldn’t take long for George to see the post-it about the log file and start reading it. But if what Jose saw was real, it was horrifying. A stocky, mottled green creature with skin similar to a dolphin’s floated amidst rows of hanging brains. The creature had three arms, each with three fingers. In two of the hands he held some sort of tablet that projected a vertical stream of waves and numbers. The third hand occasionally gestured, changing the content in the projected stream. Jose’s view was too far away, but the creature appeared to propel itself by expelling air puffs through large pores.

The creature moved to one brain and gently stroked it with one of its long fingers. Jose fought to hold his breakfast down. The creature had what appeared to be eyes and a mouth on the front of him. The mouth moved as the creature petted the brain. The gesture reminded Jose of someone praising their favorite dog. As much as he wanted to continue watching to see what the creature did, Jose knew he needed to figure out what he was seeing.

Once Jose’s teammates were all in and had read their OpenMe files, Jose went through his typical explanation for the day. They had only started waking up five days ago, but with his help they were much farther along than Jose had been at the same point. He held off telling everyone about the video feed until they were done with their shift. Most of them were able to stay awake at least an hour after quitting time, so they gathered in the conference room. Usually they went over their notes from the day, but this time Jose piped the video to the room’s monitor.

The creature was no longer in sight, but the view was still as disconcerting as it had been when Jose first saw it. The room reminded Jose of his last colonoscopy. The brains could even be thought of as polyps attached to the walls by stems of organic material. This colon, however, was a dark purple with pulsing veins woven through it. The walls shifted and moved. A green fluid flowed along the veins to and from the brains. Even though there was no audio, he could imagine a slurping sound.

The mood in the conference room was one of bewildered disgust. All thirty workers had shown up and they murmured in small groups until Jose stood. Then the questions began.

“What’re we seeing, Jose?”

“Is this real?”

“Where’s the feed coming from?”

Jose held up his hand to silence the room. “The first thing I can tell you is, I don’t know. This morning I tapped into a video signal in the communication hub and this is what I got. All during our shift there was a creature in the room, tending the brains.”

Jose flipped the video to a still image he’d taken of the creature. “This creature seems to be a caretaker of some sort. He floated around checking the tablet he’s holding and spraying some sort of chemical on the brains.” Jose left out the part about petting one of the brains. The thought of that creature having some sort of affection for his “subjects” was far too much for Jose to handle. “I was able to tap into three other feeds too.” Jose paused and swallowed hard. “There are thirty brains in this chamber.”

The significance of the number was not lost on the people in the room and the questions began again.

“Are you saying those brains have something to do with us?”

“Do each of those brains control one of us?”

“Are you saying those are our brains?”

Jose held his hand up again. “Once again, I don’t know. What I do know is that if we can find a way to communicate with this creature, maybe we’ll get some answers.”

Ideas flew loudly around the room until a young woman with short brown hair and glasses hopped up on her chair and raised her hand and yelled, “We need to hack the tablet!”

“Uhm,” said Jose, trying to think of the woman’s name.

“I’m Carol. Now that you’ve hacked the video feed, we’re part way there. If we can find a way to make what we type show up on its tablet, we can communicate with it.”

“But, we don’t know the language.”

A dark-skinned woman hopped up on the chair next to Carol. “I think we have enough context that we can try to decipher some of the labels and text. Maybe that’ll help us put together some basic sentences.”

The suggestion was met with more approval than opposition. “Let’s break up into smaller groups and see what we come up with.” Jose could feel his eyes getting heavy. Usually he was the last one to fall asleep, but he felt weary after the events of the day and could already hear the song swelling in his head. “Don’t forget to update your ‘Open Me’ files. We’ve only got about ten more minutes until some of you start falling asleep. We’ll meet tomorrow to go over the ideas,” said Jose. He headed back to his workstation and entered the information into his journal.

Craylxz seethed with anger every time he thought about the Salar’s visit. He went through his routine mechanically while imagining all the ways he could discredit Juyk. He thought of turning back up the sleep wave and letting the efficiency fall below normal, but he knew that the blame would ultimately fall on him. Craylxz stopped at the unit that had originally started all of this and brought up the diagnostics. Instead of the normal waveform, a word appeared: Hello.

What sort of trick was this? Was the Domar trying to catch him at something? Craylxz banged on the side of his device, hoping this was some sort of glitch, but the word remained. It was soon joined by others.

Hello. Monitor you. What you? Where you?

Craylxz looked around, focusing on each one of the eyes in the chamber. When he turned to the one directly behind him, he got another message.

Monitor. Unit Monitor you.

Craylxz began to shake with fear. The only one he knew that monitored this chamber was the Domar, but he couldn’t imagine the Domar using incorrect grammar. Though, it could be a test. Craylxz moved to the next unit and pulled up the corresponding diagnostics. The correct waveform appeared. He performed his normal maintenance as if nothing had happened and moved on to the next unit. Thirty minutes later he had completed his rounds without any other issues. The Domar had not come into the chamber to reprimand him. Could it have just been a glitch? Curiosity got the best of him. He returned to the offending unit and once again brought up the diagnostics. The words were still visible. Then more appeared.

Unit Jose. Who you?

Unit? Was the cerebral unit trying to communicate with him? What was a Jose? A name? A species? Craylxz pondered whether or not to answer. He had always assumed these were only computational units. An attempt at communication implied so much more. A shiver of fear ran through his body. He had to know more.

Craylxz looked up. “I am Craylxz the caretaker of this chamber and these units.”

There was no response, so he turned to the eye and repeated his words. He waited and a new message appeared on the screen.

Unit observe. No audio.

Craylxz bent in assent. His device had note taking capability, but he wasn’t sure if that would send the message to this Jose. He opened up the function and transcribed his response. When there wasn’t a reply from Jose, he held up the device so the eye could see it. A new message appeared.

Unit observe. No data.

An alarm went off. Unit out of specification. In a panic, Craylxz initiated the unit’s sleep wave. Now he was certain that this had been a test. The Domar was sure to punish him. He waited for the unit to enter the sleep phase, disconnected the stalk and began meticulously cleaning the folds. He was still doing so when the Domar arrived.

“I noticed an anomaly, Craylxz,” said the Domar. “Explain.”

Craylxz attempted to dampen his nervous vibrations and responded, “It was just a glitch, Domar. I found some residue in the stalk. It may be caused by the units operating at such high a level. I plan on checking each one.”

Juyk towered over Craylxz. “Very well, but make sure it does not happen again. We need these units operating at peak levels to complete the trajectory calculations. Don’t ruin this for me, Craylxz. I am next in line for Salar and if I do not get it, I will not hesitate to remove you. Do you understand?”

Craylxz turned his gaze to the floor. “Yes, Domar.”

He remained that way until he heard the chamber slurp shut. The Domar had not mentioned the message, nor had he seemed aware of it. Craylxz finished cleaning the unit and reattached the stalk. He would have to wait until the next cycle to discover more about this Jose.

Jose yawned and sat back down in his chair with another cup of coffee. It was hard to remember the events of yesterday, but his notes said they’d been successful in transmitting a message but had no way to receive one. Carol was already working on the problem. She’d found where the creature had entered its text and was attempting to use that for two way communication. She told him he’d gone unconscious as soon as the alarm went off and just … disappeared.

George popped his head into Jose’s office, “Hey, you’re back! We thought you’d been zapped somewhere for good.”

Jose wiped his eyes and yawned again, “So I’ve heard. But here I am. Carol told me a bit and then went to work on our communication issue. So tell me what happened.”

George sat on the edge of Jose’s desk and took a swig of his coffee, “After you left, we kept watching the feed and in walks this other creature. Definitely a different species. Taller, and it sorta walked on two of its long spindly legs instead of floating. Looked like some sort of a boss over our friend. Cowed him big time and left.” George paused before continuing, “You disappeared at exactly the same time that creature pulled the brain’s stalk away from the ceiling. I know it sounds like some weird sci-fi movie, but I’m beginning to think we are those brains.”

Jose rested his head in his hand and rubbed his forehead. He didn’t want to acknowledge the thought. “We need to talk to that creature, George,” said Jose. “That’s the only way we’re going to get any answers. Does anyone have any ideas on our language problem?”

“Allie does,” replied George. “When that tall dude came in, one of the guys that’s a big Star Trek fan said he wondered if they had universal translators. Allie used to work on the Google translator, so she spent some time with Carol going over possibilities.”

At the mention of her name, Carol popped her head into Jose’s cubicle, “If you’re up for it, I think I have something working.”

Jose looked at the clock. They’d need to start work in ten minutes but maybe the creature would be there already. “Let’s give it a shot,” he said.

They punched up the feed and Carol executed her new version of the translator. Thankfully the creature was there. Carol opened yesterday’s program and typed, “Look at your notes.”

Carol backed away to let Jose take over. “Make it quick. We can’t take the chance of that alarm going off again.”

The creature jerked slightly and turned toward the camera. It mouthed something and the note page from yesterday popped up over the waveforms.

Jose typed, “Hello again. Can you read this?”

There was a slight delay before they saw the creature shudder and begin to mouth something. A few moments later came the word, “Yes.”

A message popped up on Jose’s console with a soft “ping.” Come here, I’ve got something to show you and I don’t think I want anyone else knowing yet. Jose wrinkled his brow, but grabbed his cup of coffee and headed to George’s cubicle.

“Have a seat,” said George. “I investigated a few things Craylxz mentioned. I think I found someone’s journal and it’s freaking me out.”

Jose rolled over to George and looked at the document. A series of entries appeared like a medical log. A few of the entries stood out and caused Jose to grip his cup until his knuckles were white.

Species 651 cerebral cortex found compatible with organic matrix. Encephalon extraction and integration of all remaining subjects scheduled for completion in 3 cycles.

Species 651 resisting computation programming. Research being conducted to separate unconscious cerebral functions from conscious functions. If research deemed unsuccessful, all subjects will be disposed.

Species 651 responding to neural simulation. Shutdown required regularly in order to maintain control of unconscious functionality. Expected to have established limits within next cycle.

Species 651 now fully integrated and performance has exceeded expectations. Operational hand-off of one million units complete.

“Crap!” exclaimed Jose. “You think we’re species 651?”

“Don’t you? Craylxz already told us that only one species has brains compatible with this ship. That’s gotta be us,” said George. “How do we break the news to the others?”

“I always found the truth was the best. Time to call a meeting.”

“Wait, there’s more.” George opened another file. “I found this one on species 430. There’s a picture in it which looks a lot like Craylxz. Seems to me our friend is in trouble.”

Jose reached over George’s shoulder and read the entry.

Several members of species 430 are showing degeneration. This has caused violent outbreaks and destruction of property. Our analysis has shown that species 672 of the Sicbar system are viable candidates to replace species 430. Therefore, species 430 will be terminated after the conquest of Sicbar.

“I have to tell Craylxz.”

George nodded. “I’ll gather our troops.”

Jose had been a bit surprised at how calmly Craylxz and the group had taken the news. After seeing the brains and the alien, his information just confirmed what they had already speculated. They now met regularly before and after their shift. Craylxz had reduced the wave as far as possible to give them the maximum hours of consciousness but still maintain their health.

“So all we need to do is short-circuit our own brains,” George said at one meeting and rolled his eyes.

“We can’t just stop computing,” said someone. “There are thousands of other chambers like ours. The overseers would just trash us and the others would pick up the slack.”

“We need a good old fashioned virus!”

“Not a bad idea, but even if we stop the rest of the chambers from calculating, they’ll just wipe and reboot us.”

“We need to screw the bastards. Kill ‘em all!”

“But that’ll kill us!”

“We’re already dead, why not take them down, too?”

After several seconds of silence, a resounding chorus of “Kill ‘em all” grew and filled the room.

Jose held up his hand to quiet the group, “I’d have to agree with that. I don’t want these things doing to anyone else what they did to us. The question is, how?”

“We need to find out exactly what our group is working on.”

The crowd murmured in assent.

“Craylxz mentioned that we were calculating some sort of trajectory. I’ll ask him for more information. Considering the circumstances, I think he’ll help. In the meantime, maybe we can hack further into the system and find something. Carol?” said Jose.

“I’m on it, boss.”

“Thank you for coming, Domar,” said Craylxz, attempting to look more humble than usual.

“This best be important, Craylxz,” replied Juyk, his hands clasped behind his back below his upper limbs.

“Yes, Domar. I had an idea that might boost this chamber’s output even further, but I need to know what is being calculated to determine if my idea would work,” Craylxz said.

“How would that help anything?” asked the Domar.

“You see, Domar, I think I found a way to tune the units to certain mathematical operations. If I can do this, it may reduce the cycles needed to complete the calculations. All of the glory would be yours,” replied Craylxz hoping to appeal to the Domar’s desires.

Juyk walked up and down the rows. “Hmm.”

Craylxz puffed heavily to keep up. “If this works, I would be happy to teach you what I did. You could be the one to tell all of the other Domars. Just think how grateful the Salar would be if all of his chambers performed magnitudes higher than the other Salars and how you would outshine the other Domars by teaching them these techniques.”

The Domar paused and spoke with his back to Craylxz, “This chamber is in charge of computing the trajectory needed to reach the Sicbar system. The trajectory must pass behind their sun so that we remain undetected. For the mission to be successful, we anticipate we have only fourteen more cycles before we lose our window of opportunity. I want you to make sure these units complete the calculations in seven.”

“Yes, Domar,” replied Crayxz as he watched Juyk exit the chamber.

“Did you get that?” asked Jose.

“Yes,” replied George. “I’ll go tell Carol what to look for.”

“Good news or bad news first,” said George.

“Bad news, always best to end on a good note,” replied Jose.

“Bad news is that we still have no idea how to tap into our unconscious minds,” said George.

“And the good news?” asked Jose.

“We found a way to up our efficiency so Craylxz can meet his seven day deadline,” replied George.

“And I have good news as well,” said Jose with a grin on his face.

“And what would that be, O Great Hacker?” asked George.

“This,” replied Jose as his screen was taken over by a star chart.

“Woah, is that what I think it is?” asked George.

“Yes. I now know where we are, how many ships are in this fleet, and where they’re trying to go,” said Jose.

“So, we know where we are and where we’re going but not how to affect it,” said a voice from the crowd.

“Yes, but this is a big step forward. Once we can tap into our unconscious, we can fudge the calculations,” said Jose.

“And how close are we to that?” asked another.

“Unfortunately, no closer than we were three days ago,” replied Jose. “But at least we’ve solved half the problem.”

A general grumbling filled the room.

“C’mon guys, glass half full, right? I know we don’t like that we can’t stop ourselves from doing this, but there’s hope,” said George over the din. “Let’s get back to work, and remember no idea is too small.”

Jose and George watched the crowd disperse. “I’d hoped showing them would make them a bit more hopeful.”

“I know, buddy, but think about it. In the past couple of weeks, we’ve all found out that we’re pretty much dead, and we’re also the gun that’s pointed at killing another several billion. It’s a bit much to swallow even on a good day,” George quipped.

Jose smirked, “I think I’ll go talk to Craylxz. Maybe he’s got some ideas.”

The keys of the keyboard clacked as Jose typed his message to Craylxz, “We hacked into the navigation system. We know where we’re going and where we’re at. We just don’t have any way of changing what we’re doing. We did figure out how to increase the efficiency for you though.”

“That good. I think,” came the reply.

The translator still wasn’t perfect, so Jose didn’t know if Craylxz would think about it or just didn’t complete his thought. He figured it was the first one and watched. Craylxz moved meticulously through the rows, checking the wave patterns and spraying the brains. Craylxz stopped and floated in place. Jose could see him quivering, much like an excited dog being told to sit when it knew it was going to get a treat.

“I know. Move sun,” sent Craylxz.

“Move sun. Move the sun. Of course! Move the sun,” cried Jose. “George, we just need to move the sun!”

Jose ran out of his cubicle and shouted out to everyone, “Can anyone help me move the sun?”

Craylxz conveniently forgot to turn on the sleep wave that night, and the group worked during their entire time off shift discussing and calculating just how much to move the sun.

“There you go, boss,” said Carol. “Just say the word and I’ll enter the new coordinates.”

“Are we sure this is enough?” asked Jose, even though he knew it was. The group had checked and re-checked the calculations. When Carol hit return, their fate would be sealed.

“Time to go. In the words of Picard, make it so,” said Jose.

They watched the new coordinates propagate through the navigation charts. At this scale, the movement was barely perceptible. Now, all they had to do was sit back and do their job. Their unconcious minds would do the rest.

Salar Kluyth surveyed the chamber. “You have done well, Juyk. The calculations are complete a full seven cycles ahead of schedule. The fleet is poised and will begin the traverse during the next cycle.”

“Thank you, Salar Kluyth. The fleet must conquer,” said Juyk bowing.

“I have recommended you for promotion to Salar after the next conquest. I trust you will not disappoint,” said Kluyth.

Juyk bowed to the departing Salar. “No, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Once the sphincter closed, Juyk straightened and looked at Craylxz. “You have done well, caretaker. I will see that you are rewarded. Perhaps better chambers or company of a female of your kind would be appreciated,” said Juyk.

Craylxz did his best to keep from vibrating with glee. “My work has been reward enough, Domar. Thank you.”

Juyk turned to go. “Very well, continuing will be your reward.”

Craylxz waited until the chamber had closed and vibrated happily, making a noise that a human might even call a laugh.

Two cycles later the Vyrlk fleet slammed into the Sicbar system’s sun. The last transmission detected by Sicbar was a weak signal broadcast in a strange language later translated to be, “The fleet has been conquered.”

Neural Net