Sector Seven

by Kaden Sinclair

  Still standing and leaning against his desk, he tapped his communicator and listened to the message. “Jason, this is Director Faust. I commend you on taking time to emotionally balance the staff, so thank you for helping. We have been having a rough time today, since much of the staff is understandably shaken by the loss of senior medic Reid, who I’m sorry to say passed during the night. We are meeting in an hour to discuss some information regarding your new project and I would appreciate your attendance. Please excuse yourself from whatever obligations you have and meet us in The Convene on level twenty-nine. The meeting should be brief, maybe thirty minutes, so you needn’t cancel the entire day. That’s it. See you there.”

  That gave him roughly thirty minutes to rearrange his appointments and make the ten-minute trip. Finally sitting, he signaled several attendants under his direct control and fed them instructions about his change of plans. His holo-display above his desk lit up with the information. The attendants obeyed with their usual robotic efficiency, communicating with other attendants and offloading his cases to available resources, beginning to move people as necessary to closer proximity to other Medics. Flicking his fingers across the transparent display in front of him, he quickly perused information about patients he could administer aid to indirectly and remotely. With a broad swipe of his hand, he spread the results out across multiple displays to get a better view for comparison.

  Several patients had minor injuries and Jason approved automated surgical procedures and the use of medicines that would both curb the pain and allow for greater healing. He also directed newly injected nannies to each site of damage. He transmitted quick holo instructions about care, along with an apology for his absence, to each patient. At this distance, his calming abilities were ineffectual, but he smiled encouragingly. The patients seemed to appreciate his sincere apology.

  He finished up his direct involvement, gave some last-minute instructions to his attendants, and then gestured for his displays to clear. Getting up from his chair, he stretched for a moment and then made his way to the meeting.

  The Convene, one of several in the complex, was an enormous shielded bubble that protruded from the towers to hang out over the city. The Convenes were constructed from super-strengthened glass-like material. The material resisted electrical strikes as well as dirt and mineral deposits. Selective opacity, an engineered reaction to direct sunlight, kept much of the room lit but shielded from direct rays during sunny days. Had it been raining, he would have been dazzled with patterned water flows, funneled down to where the curves of the glass met. During heavy storms, small light displays occurred on the surface, enhancing the waterfall effects designed into the structure. The Convenes were crafted with astonishing artistry.

  Comfortable chairs littered the spacious room, clad in fabric reminiscent of green and growing things. An occasional rug spanned the distances between islands of furniture, a fully stocked kitchen, and a restroom. Travertine floors softly reflected the natural light. Several couches with oversized cushions were grouped around a collection of strategically placed tables, designed to make traffic flow easy, but providing ample space to lay out materials and set down cups of tea and coffee.

  Several of the large side windows were encircled by a forest canopy on terracing that extended out from the building. The tall glass allowed the viewer to see into a space draped in vines and hanging bromeliads. Buildings were nearly always covered in this way, an attempt to atone for the near ruination of the planet. Planted by humanity to reach toward the heavens in salvific-like questioning from specialized balconies. Occasional movement amongst the foliage caught the eye, drawing attention to various animals thriving in the micro-environment. Larger windows further down gave a spectacular view of the nearby city and offered a movable wall, which could allow for meetings directly out on the balcony to fully appreciate the beauty of nature as it combined with the structure.

  Surprised to be the first one to enter, he took a moment to move around the room, trailing his fingertips over the furniture and gazing over the beauty outside. Lost in thought, it took him a moment before he heard the voices of people entering the room behind him. He turned with a smile to greet the Director and his entourage.

  Jason’s smile froze and his heart felt like it had nearly stopped.

  With an involuntary gasp of which he was barely aware, Jason reached out blindly to steady himself on the back of a couch. An attendant robot, noting him falter, rushed forward with great speed from a nearby alcove, there to assist him if he needed.

  Jason hardly noticed.

  Director Faust had entered, chatting idly with four other well-known Medics. Three of them were peers and Jason had occasionally worked with each throughout the years. Dr. Emma Garbine, Dr. Brad Marchovic, and Dr. Stephanie Preem. Jason didn’t recognize the fourth doctor, but he appeared to be animated and friendly.

  However, none of the doctors were the cause of Jason’s shock. He felt momentary disorientation and surprise because of the sixth person who had entered with them. Statuesque and incredibly handsome, he would have commanded Jason’s attention, regardless. But this . . . creature had the telltale enhancements, advanced bio-suit, attached gadgetry, and fiery distant gaze that gave him away. Something transhuman.

  A Tech.

  One of the rare and incredibly powerful Techs who governed each Sector.

  They didn’t govern in the way of political wrangling, nor did they govern with adjudication or law. They governed with a strangely distant and removed robotic adherence to their profession. They governed because they could control almost everything tied to technology. They were rare because they required nearly impossible understanding and integration with all technology in the Sector—all of it, down to the tiniest nannite. They were in constant communication with everything around them. They influenced everything.

  Nobody really understood how a Tech truly worked, and you couldn’t ask one. They were so immersed in the flow of data, the vast issuance of commands, the constant efficiency improvements, and so on, that they could no longer relate to the world of biological sight and sound. They saw/heard/felt everything going on all at once in every corner of their Sector.

  When they found a child possessing the knack for such integration—a child with the right genetic makeup from a pool of engineered children—the child was given every genetic enhancement and tool necessary to perfect them and tie them to the Sectors they would govern. Most failed, going insane or dying outright.

  Techs were to be obeyed instantly, never questioned, and were protected under the strongest edicts. They were trusted implicitly. No Tech had ever shown the slightest inclination toward personal gain, had ever been vindictive or spiteful, and they never issued orders directly. They didn’t supersede the Council, nor did they interfere with politics. They caused shock and awe, because of how feared they were. A Tech, it was said, could see through every guise, every lie. They knew the truth of all things. They laid bare all your secrets.

  Jason’s honesty with himself allowed him to admit the reason for his own reaction. A Tech represented so much power, he simply couldn’t overcome misgivings they triggered. More so, any Tech would be able to directly communicate with his nannies in a way Jason couldn’t hope to achieve. They could read and, worse, process every tiny reaction in anyone’s body—without them wearing a biosuit. His entire soul felt exposed before the power of this Tech. More than anything, he feared the instant recognition that he was hiding his feelings about Susan and his discussions with Monica. The Tech would know and could inform Faust. Fear for his life made him freeze, crippling his control of his emotions.

  Within the few seconds it took for him to think these thoughts, two other attendants had moved rapidly to his side, their robotic reflexes immensely fast. All heads turned toward him. His heart fluttered anew, his emotions flailing desperately to right themselves. He felt the others shielding immediately, trying to overcome the blast of fear emanating from him, which hit them like a wave. A
few of them raised their arms involuntarily, as if to ward of the overwhelming tide of emotion.

  With a flick of his eyes, the Tech glanced at Jason. Instantly, all communication from his bio-suit and his nannies ceased. Incoming data from his personal data feed halted and a vast and incredible silence seemed to fall over him. The Tech had barely moved his eyes, yet he cut off Jason so completely that Jason felt stricken of his senses. Consumed by other matters, and obviously considering Jason inconsequential, the thing had barely afforded him a glance. Stripped of all his abilities, Jason stood mute.

  The other Medics, relieved of Jason’s involuntary emotional onslaught, relaxed. One gave a nervous laugh and they moved, as a group, to the chairs. The attendant robot gripped Jason and moved him to one of the cushioned seats. Jason sat, unable to control his fingers as they reflexively furled and unfurled in his panic.

  The Tech flowed to a position near the Director—a play of muscle showing as he moved with a strange fluid grace—then came to rest, standing slightly behind and to the right of the Director.

  Jason finally got his fear under control and forced himself to relax.

  “My, my, what an unexpected greeting,” said Dr. Garbine. “I must admit, I didn’t realize just how powerfully Dr. Emerson could command the bio-feedback.”

  Director Falk smiled. “Yes. Well, his emotional control, or lack thereof in this case, is one of the main reasons I have him heading up the research on emotional stability. We have a huge issue with imbalanced hormonal changes associated with our work.” He turned to Jason. “Really, Dr. Emerson, you must get over your fear of the Techs. I’d forgotten how shocking they can be on first sight, but I’m now quite reminded of my initial experience. Actually, considering how powerfully you broadcast, I nearly relived it.”

  Jason relaxed slightly. This didn’t seem to be an inquisition. The Tech hadn’t acknowledged him in the slightest since it had shut him down. He relaxed further, gaining control over himself entirely. “Please. Accept my apologies. This is the first time in a great many years I’ve lost control of my emotions so completely.” He bowed his head in apology.

  The other Medics smiled at his sincerity and the Director waived his apology away. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all had roughly the same response. What a great demonstration of your unique talents.”

  On impulse, Jason turned to the Tech. “I hope you’ll forgive me for a poor greeting. I’m usually much more in control, so I’m pretty embarrassed.” The Tech still didn’t acknowledge him in any way he could discern, its eyes forward and distant, staring at nothing and everything.

  Then, however, without a twitch from the Tech, Jason had full control of his suit and his communications were restored. Startled, but hugely relieved, he broadcast calm. Everyone nodded appreciatively.

  “Now then,” said Faust, starting the meeting. “Jason, I want you to meet the other members of the team. Dr. Emerson, as you’ve all noted, possesses a supreme command of emotive responses, broadcast by his biosuit, which will prove invaluable. Dr. Preem is developing a number of enhanced communication and feedback responses, which are proving their worth and will help fine-tune and augment Jason’s skills.”

  Stephanie flashed her white teeth in a smile, which contrasted with her radiant dark skin. “Jason, so good to see you again.”

  He smiled back. “You too, Steph. I must say, these suits are proving their worth many times over and your recent enhancements to the technology are pretty great.”

  Faust continued. “Dr. Black here is taking up the part of enhancing the reparative instructions the nannies use. This will be increasingly important for accident survival. We’re hoping to refine this to overcome everything but total destruction of our bodies. His goal is to work closely with Marchovic here to outline what defines our psyches to a point which, potentially, could mean moving our awareness out of a host temporarily to emergency storage while our bodies are rebuilt.”

  Both doctors waved hello as Faust paused.

  “In this way, even complete destruction of our physical bodies might still mean survival. Lofty goals, I admit. It may also mean we encounter a disagreement with the human soul.” He gestured to the older doctor, Emma Garbine, who sat to his left. Her mouth slightly pursed as she regarded Jason, then turned into a genuine, if fleeting, smile. Her tightly bound hair reminded him of Mom.

  “Emma is going to be looking carefully at the ramifications our advancements might have on our souls, doctors. Hers is the most difficult of all tasks, as there is no metric on which to base her research, no measure of progress. She must work with the esoteric and the undefined and protect us from the unknown.”

  Dr. Garbine arched an eyebrow and turned to him with a slight tightening of her lips. “Not so impossible, Carlisle.”

  “Director, if you please. I feel a lot of pride in having earned my title.”

  Her mouth slipped into a barely discernable sneer. “Indeed, you do, Carlisle, which is one of your many failings. I prefer first names, so there’s that.”

  The Director’s jaw clenched for a brief second, but before he could say anything, she said, “Jason, good to see you again. It’s been a while and, I must admit, I’d forgotten your . . . presence. Over the years, you seem to have greatly improved your skills. They are astonishing. You’ve always been a favorite of mine for a lot of reasons. It will be a genuine pleasure to work with you.”

  A moment of silence followed while Faust clearly mulled over Garbine’s intentional slight. Gathering himself, he simply gestured to his right. “And this, Dr. Emerson, is Sector Seven.” He seemed to indicate the Tech was there at his bequest, but Jason couldn’t fathom how even the Director could actively engage a Tech to be on hand.

  Techs were assigned names correlated to their Sectors, which they came to represent in their every thought and action. When invoked, even by the highest authorities, they would no longer respond when addressed by their given names. For this reason, the true names of any of the nine Techs were almost unknown. They were on record, but most people never sought out their names, relying only on their number and designation.

  Jason turned and smiled at the Tech, uncertain how to proceed. He took a deep breath and then broadcast a strong welcome and an open and honest extension of friendship.

  The Tech blinked slowly, then turned his impassive gaze to Jason, his neck muscles flexing slightly, dark hair glinting in the light. Sector Seven’s eyes focused and Jason’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, he simply regarded Jason. Then, unexpectedly, the Tech said, “We greet you, Medic Jason Emerson,” in a voice both richly baritone and yet strangely emotionless. For a moment, Jason felt his emotional broadcast echoed, uncertainly, awkwardly, as the Tech tried to emulate his greeting. Then the otherworldly look came over the Tech’s face once again. Everyone in the room seemed to cease to exist. Jason had stopped breathing.

  The doctors reacted with varying degrees of shock. Jason kept his emotions in check, and continued his unwavering broadcast of welcome, but he felt the other doctors’ surprise.

  Dr. Garbine spoke first. “Fascinating.”

  “Don’t be droll, Emma. Jason has an emotional effect on everyone,” said Stephanie. “Not typically so overwhelming, but his skill in this area is quite impressive.” She stared at Jason curiously. Then, as if the Tech weren’t even there, she said, “Has a Tech ever greeted any of you? They’ve never acknowledged me.”

  Director Faust smiled, though Jason could feel the older man’s unease. “We have spoken a few times.” Then, he cleared his throat.

  “Let’s get on with things, shall we?” Assuming a businesslike tone, he said. “Jason, I need you to start working closely with the team, starting next week. I have already assigned the replacement for your floor. Each of you will be given your own lab, your own staff, and a new office. You will all be in charge of your respective research groups, but I expect you to meet with each other frequently. Your offices will be relocated to the new research complex, so they wi
ll be close enough to each other for collaboration, yet separated so you can focus on results.” He reached for a cup of water which, having anticipated his needs based on his body’s desire for hydration, an attendant had ready.

  He took a drink and set the cup back on the tray.

  “As I said, you’ll be working closely with Emma. However, I expect all of you to meet frequently and present any problems you encounter. We have a great gathering of minds here and I don’t want to waste resources. Someone might have insight or even an outright answer to problems you become stuck on. We all know how it goes.” He didn’t seem to include himself in this human failing. “I regret I will not be able to provide as much research support as I have in the past. My duties on the Council consume too much of my time. You will need to take all my research to-date and develop a plan to move us forward.

  “I’ve set deadlines for each of you, but we’ll have to adjust things as we go along. The Council is expecting results by the end of the year.” Seeing their incredulity, he raised a hand. “Results, not complete answers. We, the Council, are aware of the incredible level and degree of expectations we’re setting.” He emphasized the word “Council”’ as if addressing himself personally. What a grand sense of self-entitlement, Jason thought.

  They all nodded gravely, seemingly lost in their thoughts about the approaches they’d take, tests they’d need to perform, and myriad details they would have to attend to.

  The Director seemed to sense the usefulness of the meeting had been exhausted. He rose from his chair and dismissed them all as he headed to the exit. They followed him silently from the room, each unconsciously avoiding eye contact with the Tech.

  All accept Jason, who studied the Tech with interest.

  Six

  MONICA CALLED JASON A FEW times during the day, to chat and then to ask him about plans for the evening. The calls were mostly for the benefit of anyone eavesdropping. Without overdoing it, she affected the tone of someone girlishly infatuated with him. Jason, perfectly aware of the game Monica played, and appreciating her cleverness, acted the part of the gay friend who kindly enjoyed her presence, but kept his emotional distance. It was almost laughable, since Monica hardly deferred to anyone, but it allowed them to check on each other without suspicion and to arrange a meeting.