Broken Pixels (Broken Realms, #4)

CHAPTER 22-2

Two hours later, Mara felt someone tapping her on the shoulder. Blinking away the sleep she didn’t even remember coming, she found herself staring into the murky grayness of the Plexiglas table in the repository conference room. It took effort to lift her head off her crossed arms atop the table.

“Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. We had a rather bad burn victim delivered shortly after we last talked,” Dr. Canfield said.

Still bleary headed, Mara said, “They are setting each other on fire intentionally.”

“I beg your pardon?” the doctor asked. “How could you know that?”

The alarmed tone in her voice caused Mara to awaken and sit up straight. On either side of her, Ping and Sam sat slumped over the table, fast asleep. Rubbing her face, she said, “Sorry, that was probably a tad abrupt. After we retrieved Cam’s head, we ran into a group of people in a park who were attempting to light a woman on fire with torches. We tried to stop them, but I think they did it anyway after we left.”

The doctor had a haunted look on her face. “It’s happening all over the city. Some people are even setting themselves on fire, screaming something about ‘being the light.’ It makes no sense. No disease could cause a person to do something like that.”

Mara reached down to the floor next to her chair and lifted the book bag into her lap and said, “I don’t think it’s a disease, and I don’t think it is something transmitted through Sig-net.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Earlier in the day, when Cam showed me the news streams, we came across a report that referenced an illicit substance called Euphoria. I thought some kind of drug was being distributed and causing people to go nuts, but later we saw people carrying these tiny crystals and chanting, ‘See the light. Shine the light. Be the light.’ They all acted like they were high on some kind of drug, but it wasn’t a drug. It’s the crystals.”

“A crystal. I doubt a crystal is having this kind of effect on so many people,” Dr. Canfield said.

“Why not?”

“Synthetic bodies simply aren’t as susceptible to external substances as biological ones. Our bodies are impervious to biological pathogens and virtually all but the most corrosive chemicals.”

“What about psychological effects, like hypnosis?”

“Impossible. Our higher functions are not accessible to that kind of manipulation.”

“Something is going wrong. What do you suggest it is?”

“I have absolutely no idea. Synthetic physiology is made up of three disciplines: anatomy, memory and cognition. Whatever is doing this has to be affecting one or more of those areas. I can’t imagine an anatomical defect that could result in these symptoms, and memory is generally limited to experience, information storage and recall. A bad memory won’t result in this type of mayhem.

“That leaves cognition, which is analogous to the psyche in a biological person. Issues in this arena can be addressed with traditional therapy or, in extreme cases, through alteration of the underlying routines.”

“Underlying routines? You mean revising the software that controls your cognition?”

“Occasionally a variance will creep into the code, and we are required to tweak it, but we’re talking about minor problems that present as a minor stutter or twitch.”

Ping sat up in his chair next to Mara and said, “So technically it is possible to program a person to do whatever the programmer wants.”

Dr. Canfield shook her head. “It would be impractical to do something like that. An individual’s cognition routines are constantly rewriting themselves to reflect their thoughts and decisions, their will. If you were to program someone to cluck like a chicken in front of a group of dignitaries, they could easily revise the routines to prevent it.”

“That seems logical, if you wanted to force someone to perform a discrete action, but what if you wanted to redefine cognition itself?” Ping asked.

“I’m not sure I’m following,” the doctor said.

Mara interjected, “I believe what Ping’s asking is, what if you wanted to change how someone thinks instead of what someone thinks?”

“You’re talking about changing the nature of who and what we are. The programming skills necessary to attempt something of that magnitude would be virtually incomprehensible. I don’t think it would be possible, and, if it were possible, what would be the point?”

Mara shrugged. “We’re not sure.”

“Well, if you happen across one of these mysterious crystals, let me know. I’ll take a look at it and tell you what I think.”

Mara took the book bag off her lap and hefted it onto the table and unzipped it. “As a matter of fact we nabbed one of them while we were downtown.”

Ping put his hand over hers and, to the doctor, said, “Do you have some kind of small opaque container that will not allow light to escape?”

The doctor looked skeptical. “To hold the crystal.”

He nodded. “We’re concerned about exposing you to it since your physiology is synthetic.”

“Very well.” She walked over to the wall and tapped it. A window appeared filled with the face of a young man wearing a white lab coat. “Rob, could you bring a small opaque sample container with a lid to the conference room?”

He gave her a quizzical look while nodding. The window on the wall disappeared, and the doctor returned to the table.

“We’ll run it through some tests to see if we can identify what kind of crystal you have there and if it has the ability to reprogram the human race,” she said.

“You’re obviously not taking us very seriously, but I would feel better if you would at least promise not to expose yourself or your staff directly to the crystal,” Mara said.

“We can examine it without removing it from the container. I promise. In the meantime, since you folks aren’t from around here, I would assume you need a place to sleep. You are welcome to use the maintenance staff bunks. They are not luxurious accommodations, but it will be better than sleeping on a table.”