Jason could not adequately explain the failures. He could sense, but not control, deep-seated emotion with any sustained ability. He could broaden his broadcasts and sense large numbers of people, but this control took all of his ability. He could not imagine moving any more quickly. He sagged under the burden of the strain they’d put upon him.
The normally calm Council’s anger became vocal, and they accused him of being uncommitted and weak. They ordered him hospitalized and assessed for possible removal from the project.
After several days, as he knew they would, the Council ordered him back to work with strict sets of guidelines. They had nobody else and Dr. Garbine, the closest thing they had to Jason, couldn’t use Jason’s research in any practical way. Her own projects consumed all her time, and she flat-out refused to try and take over his work.
A newer, more powerful set of nannies was developed and administered to Jason without his consent and without proper testing. They proved to be a nightmare for him. He could not tune out most of the emotions of those around him. The new nannies broadcast and received so strongly, they nearly crippled him.
His frustration could barely be contained when he left the confines of his hospital room. Along with the others, he had no idea how to address the problem. The barrage of anger and disgust he felt from most people, which he couldn’t block, due to his developed skills, caused him unending emotional distress. He slept with a pillow over his head to try to shut the emotions out, but his new nannies could detect emotional states even without his bio-suit. He started to be subject to bouts of sobbing, his sanity cracking under the extreme pressure.
Director Faust demanded he learn stricter control, coldly dismissing Jason’s emotions as those of a weakling. He gave Jason seven days to “get over it” and resume his testing, including solving the hormonal control problem within three months. Faust accompanied the demand with a thinly veiled threat to end Jason’s career due to “unfounded psychological distress rendering him incapable of performing even the smallest functions necessary in his field.” He actually struck Jason across the face and strode out of the lab. Jason both laughed and cried at the same time, overcome with a hysteria he could not control. His entire staff vacated the building, leaving him alone as he slumped to the floor.
Finally, he managed to get himself to point where he could leave the offices and rush home. He ate mechanically and tried to sleep. He could not remain in his bed. The bombardment from his involuntary reception of emotions drove him to move rapidly and pointlessly around his apartment. He tried to shower, but the mirror reflected his internal distress, his face gaunt and eyes haunted.
He ultimately fled his apartment each night, jogging around the streets compulsively, muttering to himself. He knew he looked like a maniac.
• • •
He made his way back to his apartment after his nightly jog. The seven days of reprieve were up. As he walked in, he received a notice from Faust with orders to renew testing. Jason would be forced to work on this day and night for “the good of the people.” Sleep would be tightly rationed.
With a cry, Jason deleted the notice of demands and threw his communicator against the wall of his apartment. He stood for a moment, so disoriented he lost track of time and place. Half crazed from sleeplessness, he stormed into his kitchen, exclaiming loudly as he nearly collided with a figure standing in the doorway. For a moment, Jason thought he was hallucinating. Everything around him had taken on the characteristics of a dream.
Tarien must have sensed that his appearance was an intrusion and he became apologetic and oddly chastened. He offered to leave, but Jason put a hand on his chest.
Still having difficulty processing reality, he shook his head. “No, please. Stay.” Then, in a pathetic plea, he repeated “please” almost inaudibly.
He began shaking uncontrollably and slumped against the wall, putting a hand to his temple in a futile gesture to protect his thoughts. He whimpered and fell to the floor, staring up at Tarien.
Tarien watched him for a moment, clearly unable to discern the most logical course of action.
“We won’t enter your space without seeking your permission in the future. No places are barred to us, so it did not occur to us there would be an issue.”
“Tarien, I—that’s not it. If you show up for any reason at all, I’ll be glad to see you. I actually prefer you here instead of on top of the building.” Then, with a weak smile, he said, “Thank you for saving me. I’m glad you made a personal appearance now.” But then his madness returned. “Are you really here?”
The Tech stared at him and frowned, unsure how to address the question. “We will tolerate no harm to our citizens when preventative measures are possible. We had to reconcile our edict of non-interference with protection.”
Jason had lost his grasp on reality and retreated within himself, his head falling forward as he stared at the floor. He only repeated what he’d heard without understanding. “Reconcile . . .”
Tarien’s voice grew alarmed. “We sense great distress. We do not wish for you to be encumbered in this way and are deeply concerned. We have tried to remain distant, in order for your natural ability for emotional control and understanding of proper balance to come into play and thereby ease your distress, but we have noted degradation instead. Are you unwell, Jason?”
With a hollow feeling in his stomach and another tide of distress threatening to overwhelm him, Jason looked up suddenly. “Can’t you tell?”
The Tech cocked his head slightly. “You are not well,” he decided. “This we are able to discern. We do not have your abilities and consequently we operate with empirical, concrete information. You are not physically suffering, outside of elevated chemical levels associated with stress, so we are unable to guess the nature of your distress.”
Jason couldn’t answer. Lost in a sea of emotions which were not his own and bombarded by the masses without sense of context or control, he clutched his head. His rational mind could not intervene enough to protect him.
For a moment, Tarien stood in silence. Then Tarien said, “We wish to ease your suffering, Jason.” He stepped forward, lifting him from the floor as if he were a child. He stood Jason up and enveloped him in his arms. He held Jason in his muscular grasp for a few moments, comforting him, one hand on the back of Jason’s head, the other in the small of his back. He pulled Jason’s head to his right shoulder.
All external feedback ceased. With a nearly palpable wave, the bombardment he’d been under from everyone dissipated. Quickly, blessedly, he was alone in his thoughts and emotions. His legs gave way and Tarien had to hold him up. With a change in his arm position, Tarien lifted him off the ground, carrying him to the couch.
Nearly hysterical, Jason buried his head in Tarien’s chest and cried in relief. He made an animal-like laughing noise as Tarien lay him down. Tarien kneeled next to him, his face oddly concerned. With a strangely human gesture, Tarien brushed Jason’s unkempt hair away from his eyes.
“We do not know how else to help you, Jason. We feel great guilt in cutting off your abilities with your nanotechnological enhancements, but we note the effect it has on you. We do not know what else to do.”
Jason regained control. With a relief he had not felt in months, he took a deep breath. “You really are here.” He breathed raggedly. “You are the best. Oh, wow. Thank you. This is exactly what I needed.” Feeling more capable of processing and voicing his despair, Jason tried to explain his distress. “I couldn’t block everyone’s emotions. Everyone is so filled with anger, hate, fear, distress. I’ve been picking that up for so long, it started to become part of me. I’m not built to deal with this.” Quietly he added, “I don’t know how you do it.”
Tarien smiled slightly. “We process only data, not emotion. We have no connection to these things. This is entirely unique to you. Our data input is entirely functional, not subject to interpretation.” Jason lay back against the pillows. Tarien still knelt between the table and the cou
ch. After a moment, he continued. “We are relieved. We perceived this to be the only course of action, but we feared your response when we cut off your input. We are gratified you are not angry with us.” He seemed to struggle with the concept as he said, “With me.”
“God, no. Thank you. I could kiss you.” He touched Tarien’s face.
The Tech cocked his head sideways. “You’ve made an unusual response. We are uncertain kissing us would be appropriate.”
“It’s a figure of speech.” Then, realizing he sounded like an idiot, he said, “Look, sorry. I just meant I’m so grateful for your help, a strong and overt display of affection would be the best way to express my thanks. My attraction to other males makes me more inclined to display such things. Usually, this would be more appropriate if said to a woman or if a woman said it to you. I just forgot to consider how it would come across. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he finished lamely.
The Tech seemed to consider this. “It is of no consequence. We are immune to any discomfort others may feel in this regard.” He cocked his head, which seemed to carry some form of silent communication that eluded Jason. “We wish to express concern over the progress demanded of you. We also worry about the pressure you are under and the choices before you. We do not wish you harmed by these decisions.”
This startled Jason. “What do you mean? What decisions? You mean the Council? The Director?”
Tarien said nothing for a moment. “We are under restrictions and cannot say more. We only ask you to carefully consider the choices that will be put before you.” Then, placing a hand on Jason’s head as he stood, he said, “We will act to protect you in some ways if we are pressed. Please consider this, too.”
He sat up. “What protections do you think I’ll need?”
Before Jason could press the issue, his door chimed.
“Do not be alarmed, it is your Mechanic friend. She is here out of concern and will wish to take you out to dinner. We ask you to consider her proposal. Her friendship aids you greatly.”
Jason grinned weakly. “That’s uncanny. It must give you headaches knowing everything.”
Tarien smiled. “You surprise us often. We do not know everything, Jason. Our inability to help you today should be proof.”
The door chimed again. Twice.
Jason got up. “You helped me more than you know. I feel nearly human again.” He gave a vocal command to open the door, still shaking slightly.
Monica strode in with a resolved and combative narrowing of her eyebrows, her mouth open, apparently ready to level a stream of admonitions at Jason. Three steps inside the apartment, she stopped, her eyes growing wide as she saw Tarien. She took one involuntary step backward.
Tarien smiled warmly at her, seeming to have become accustomed to this familiar gesture. “Greetings, Mechanic Monica Talon. We see you.”
She made a startled noise and her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. She stood there, gaping in stunned silence.
“We do not wish to cause you alarm. We are validating the well-being of Jason and are just departing. We wished to remain until you arrived. Please do not allow our presence to waylay your objective.” He turned slightly and said, “Jason, we request suppression of your nanotechnology system for a period of time to give you reprieve. Will you permit us?”
“Yeah, thank you. That would be great. I can probably get control over myself in a week.” Then, suddenly, it occurred to him this might be a problem. “Will the Council allow it?”
The Tech frowned, looking oddly imperious. “We have said it. It is as we have decreed. The Council will not gainsay our judgment.” He paused. “For now.”
Jason stood up and walked over and hugged Tarien again, drawing back and putting both hands on his shoulders. “You have no idea how good this has been for me, so you have my strongest thanks.”
“We are glad.” He smiled again. His smiles seemed to be coming more easily. Then he departed, allowing Monica to fully enter so the door could slide closed behind her.
Monica let out an explosive breath. “Oh. My. God.” She walked over to the couch and flopped down without any semblance of grace. “I came over to take you to dinner and beat the crap out of you for being a whiny crybaby only to find out you have a personal Tech hanging out, taking care of you.” She looked up at him, her eyes still wide. “Really? I mean, how the hell did this happen? What was he doing here?” Then, before he could answer, “Oh shit. It’s the Council, isn’t it? They’re protecting their interests. They want you to pull your act together and get them what they’ve all been slobbering over. Immortality and complete control.”
“Monica, I—”
“Of course! Shit! That self-serving pack of walking cadavers will stop at nothing, especially with Death practically watching their every move.”
“Well, I don’t—”
“Goddamn it! This is a nightmare! This accident is only going to make them more viscous.”
“It didn’t seem like he came here under their orders,” Jason said, annoyed at the implication.
“Well, sure. I mean, you know Techs. They like to hang out and read bedtime stories to everyone,” she said with heavy sarcasm.
Jason frowned. “Wow, thanks for coming over to cheer me up.”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Look, you’re right. Let’s go out.”
Heeding the advice of Tarien, though he didn’t want to go out, he nodded and walked over to the kitchen counter. “Yeah, okay.” He fidgeted with some of the small figurines he’d displayed on the countertop. “I mean, maybe they are using him to keep an eye on me. But Monica, he’s been surprisingly helpful and maybe it doesn’t matter. I do feel better and I really needed the help.” He looked over at her for understanding.
She stared at him a moment. “Um, Jason . . .” She pursed her lips delicately. “I don’t mean to be a jerk, but it sort of seems like you are becoming dopily enamored with your new robot friend.”
He laughed. “Thanks, that was subtle.”
“Well, I’m not exactly sugar and spice.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“So now you are slobbering over him.”
“He’s not a robot.”
“Uh huh.”
“And I’ve only seen him a few times, so it’s not like we have long conversations over coffee.”
“I see.”
“He’s really just showing up to help me.”
“Which is totally normal.”
“I’m going to hit you.”
Her eyes grew wide and she effected helplessness. “Why, Jason! What a shocking thing to suggest.”
“Hard.”
“I’m entirely too fragile!” she said, moving toward him with a large eyes and pursed lips.
He punched her shoulder lightly.
She laughed. “That’s not very manly, missy.” Then, dismissively, she said, “Fine, I’m not going to harp on you about flirting with a cyborg. It’s certainly better than some of the morons you’ve managed to get stuck to the bottom of your shoes.” She tapped her lips thoughtfully. “And I have to admit, it is very cute.” Her change of tone and lack of accusation eased the tension.
“Are we going to eat?”
“Yes, probably. Assuming you can stop slobbering on yourself and get ready.”
“I AM ready. Let’s go.”
She let out an explosive laugh, looking him up and down pointedly. Her face took on a scrunched look of combined sympathy and mockery. “Wow. You’ve really lost it. No, you aren’t.” She wrinkled her nose. “Seriously? You look like you’ve been crying, which you have. You smell like you wallow in your own stench as a fetish, and you need to at least trim your mangy-dog face. You really aren’t the type to grow facial hair. You look like you have scurvy.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Honestly, Jason, you stink to high heaven and I’m afraid someone will mistake you for a hobo the moment you step outside. There’s no way you’ll be allowed in any establishment short of a rehab clinic.” S
he pointedly looked around at the mess in the apartment.
Crap, thought Jason. Clothing and dishes littered the floor along with containers of half-eaten food that he’d had delivered. Jason had been completely unaware of the mess.
It slowly dawned on him how neglectful he’d become about his space and himself. He took a deep breath, nodded to her, and went into the bathroom. He took a long time to shower and shave, but he felt a lot better. For the first time in a while, he could look at his reflection in the mirror.
By the time he emerged, Monica had made considerable progress tossing his clothing into the cleaning units and putting the dishes where the robots could deal with them. She had tossed the food containers into the recycling. With the floors cleared, the small robots could do their job of roaming and cleaning the smaller debris. She looked up and smiled. “Much better. C’mon, I’m starving.”
She put her arm in his and led him out of the apartment and then down and out of the building. Mom gave him a relieved hug, expressing her concern for him.
The sun shone outside, and they walked to a nearby restaurant called Aracona.
Dinner and drinks were great. Jason had never been to Aracona, despite living only a few blocks away. The place was dimly lit, but had a lively crowd, and the furnishings were trendy, with an artistic color scheme of black and brushed metal, along with brightly colored walls. He had an excellent pepper steak and a heavenly lime and basil sorbet. Monica picked at her mahi-mahi, barely finishing it, despite the fact she said she thought of it as one of the best dishes she’d ever had. She didn’t touch her mousse, so Jason happily ate that too. He became concerned when she didn’t respond to the flirtations of the waiter.
Sector Seven Page 16
