Clara floated in space. The air around her was palpable with an unstable energy. It pulled at her invitingly, like a friend tugging on her sleeve. Stretching her fingers, she felt the energy flow through her, igniting her nervous system with a surge. The pleasure was dizzying. Her breath fluttered away from her, but she caught its tail and concentrated on containing the sensation, pushing it down within her, compressing it into her core. A light appeared in the centre of her chest, glowing like the sun. Her fingertips shone with a pale blue electricity, although she couldn’t as much see her fingers as she could sense their light-form. The sensation grew, bringing light to the space around her. She dwelled in the magnitude of space, floating in a nebular. Stars shone behind a shifting aurora, which danced like sirens in the silken threads of a storm. Blue lightning stretched across the sky, igniting pathways between stars, each pulsating like jewels, brilliant pinks and blues and emerald greens.
The beauty was astonishing. Clara closed her eyes, but the image was burned into her mind so bright it penetrated her eyelids. She was forced to face it. The immensity brought tears to her eyes.
This is your mind, a voice said. It sounded paternal, wise and patient.
“Really?”
Yes.
“It’s incredible. Where am I exactly?”
Physically speaking, your body is inside an Augmentation Master Console’s operational chamber, currently undergoing initial calibration. Consciously, the space you are in is a visual rendering of your psychic field contained predominantly inside your brain tissue and nervous system. The voice echoed as though she was standing inside a cavern.
“What are the stars?”
The stars, and everything around you, is a visual rendering of electrical events happening inside your physical body and energetic fields. Is it to your liking?
“It’s beautiful.” Clara gazed at the sky, eyes wide, submitted by its magnificence.
Suddenly, the stars dimmed. Auroras dissipated and clouds shrouded the deep space. Clara shook her head, regaining her senses.
Is that better?
“Less overwhelming,” she said.
My name is Ohm. Is my name to your liking?
“Erm, honestly, it’s a bit cheesy.”
Please clarify.
“Well, if my Augmentation gives me powers of electricity, then calling yourself Ohm… it works, it’s just a bit on the nose.”
I have created a list of names which you might prefer. Please choose among them, or suggest your own: Daniel, William, Thunder God Zeus, Steve-
“Ohm is fine,” Clara said.
Excellent. Clara, it is nice to meet you.
“Yeah.” Clara frowned. The more the artificial intelligence spoke, the more Clara started to notice discrepancies in its voice–little inhuman giveaways with its tone of voice and inflection. It reminded her of speaking to someone in her dreams–you had the impression of a conversation, but it was insubstantial. The realisation put her on edge, a primal weariness of ‘the other’, which she didn’t quite understand. “Are you sentient?”
No, not by conventional definition. My processes are limited to the analytical. I do not feel information. I do not possess a sense of self. My interface is designed to mimic human interaction in order to better communicate and interface with a user, however any approximation to humanness is merely a projection. My personality is a fabrication. If you wish to change any details, please advise, and I shall incorporate them immediately.
“It’s good so far,” Clara said, then tentatively added, “Thank you.”
As your Augmentation Intelligence Assistance, it is my job to communicate with you changes to your DNA as per your Augmentation’s archetype. I will monitor your behaviour in combat and in training, developing and improving your Augmentation’s applications based on feedback. As per your willingness to inject the Augmentation Serum, I have gained administrative access to your DNA and measurable levels of your psyche, including but not limited to your thoughts, feelings, nervous system, distinct memories and desires. My prerogative is simple and inalienable: transform your body, mind and soul, into a soldier of humanity, a bulwark standing before species extinction.
Two clouds condensed before her eyes, swirling around the eye of a storm until they formed into two orbs. One of the gas giants glowed with a deep yellow aura, which pulsated a hot energy. The second frazzled with blue electricity, unstable and excitable.
Clara, you have been Augmented with modified Bulwark Project technology. There is no schematic associated with the changes to your DNA within my internal database. My artificial intelligence architecture was developed in the year 2036 by the Bulwark Project. Due to the fact that your Augmentation archetype is unrecorded leads me to predict that the serum which you injected is one of a new, third wave of Augmentation serums. There are programmer notes in my system, but they are encrypted and password protected. I do not have permission to read them.
“Linton,” Clara sighed. “Withholding prick.”
This Augmentation Serum may be experimental and volatile. It is essential that you recalibrate your abilities at an Augmentation Master Console as often as possible during the initial stages of Augmented development.
“What if I don’t have access to one easily?”
There is a small chance that your DNA will corrupt under the strain of enhancements. Currently, your body is submerged in a stasis wherein my computing abilities can operate to their full extent, modifying and repairing your DNA, amongst other tasks.
“What percent are we talking?”
If you fail to calibrate your developing powers for more than thirty days, there is approximately a three percent chance of irreparable corruption to your DNA.
“Like, growing another toe?”
A toe, or a tumour.
“Okay. Health and safety aside, what am I looking at here?”
Each of these orbs is a visual rendering of your Augmentation’s delineations. Is this rendering to your liking?
“Yes. And you don’t need to ask every time. I’ll tell you if I want something changing.”
Affirmative. In the absence of pre-ordained information, the name I have ascribed to your Augmentation’s archetype is: Electrobiotic Conductor. The first delineation I have detected is: Thunder. The yellow orb swelled as it was called. Secondly: Tesla. The blue electrical orb sparked like a surging fuse box. Each delineation possesses unique attributions, and may be refined into specific abilities, which we will develop and strengthen over time. Calibrated abilities may be observed here, and may be summoned at any time.
A mirage appeared inside the Thunder delineation orb. It was a depiction of Clara, swathed in bright yellow electrical energy. The image clapped its hands and a shockwave detonated from the impact, sending sparks across the cloud.
Thunderclap, the AI voice said. This ability is rudimentary, with many possibilities for adaptation.
The mirage Clara then clenched her fist, and a yellow light glowed in her palm, shining between her fingers. Guiding Beacon.
The Thunder cloud diminished, and Clara turned to the second orb. Blue lightning danced across its surface, and the Clara-lookalike reappeared inside, this time dressed in a gown of blue sparks. The apparition grew brighter, then thrust its palm forward. A shotgun-like burst of electrical energy shot from its palm, fizzing in the air like fireworks. Electronic Surge, the voice said. Furthermore, Teslatic energy may be summoned in a more controlled fashion for a variety of effects.
Clara remembered the previous night, when she had experimented with the twitching sensation in her arm, forcing it to coalesce into a blue light on her fingertip. “How exactly do I become stronger?”
It is advised that users practise and experiment with these abilities in controlled and uncontrolled environments. Extreme situations may result in more dynamic DNA shifts. My adaptive programming is designed to adapt your DNA to combat any apocalypse.
“That’s it? Just practise?”
Practice. Experiment. Perfect.
“You mean this entire time, if Andy had spent some more time at a shooting range, he could have become way stronger?”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
The voice was absent for a few moments. Based on your memories, my analysis indicates that the person Andy has the Augmented archetype of Gunslinger, a first-wave Augmentation. By your own recollection, he was Augmented six years ago. His abilities have developed minutely in that timeframe. There may be an error with his artificial intelligence integration assistant, which prevents him from adapting his Augmented abilities.
“Nah, he’s just lazy.”
Addressing your initial query, a user must push the use of their Augmentation in order to improve and develop new skills. The Artificial Intelligence Assistant adapts to a user’s environment. In the example given: only powers developed to adapt to a shooting range would be written and implemented.
A warm feeling expanded in her chest. The vision around her grew hazy. Calibration complete. Terminating visual rendering. The voice’s cavernous intensity ebbed, until it returned to an unobtrusive chatter inside her head. DNA corruption reset to 0%. No network detected. Please connect the console to the Bulwark Master Network in order to upload new information.
The mist before Clara’s eyes evaporated, until she could see outside the glass chamber. “Sorry to say, but the global network went down years ago. There’s no getting it back.”
Processing.
Clara unlocked the chamber door and exited. The chamber’s steam vents left behind a gel-like sheen on her skin. She towelled herself down and redressed, wishing once more that she had a clean set of clothes to wear. At the console, the technician was examining a monitor, which displayed information regarding her calibration.
“That’s private,” Clara said, checking her watch. Almost an hour had passed, although it had only felt like ten minutes.
“Actually, it’s ours,” the technician said, scrolling through the analytics. “Our machine, our data.”
Clara ground her teeth. “There should be notes on there from the programmer. I need access to them.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“I need a printout,” Clara said.
“I’ll get around to it.” The technician didn’t take her eyes off the screen.
“Good,” Clara said, refusing to show her frustration. Opening the doors, Clara hopped down from the lorry, adjusting her belt and sidearm’s holster. Alister was leaning against the wall outside, a bottle of wine in his hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but Clara got there first.
“Brief us on the mission later tonight,” she said. “We’ll be at the Haven Inn again. Bring ammunition for a .45, 9mm and 5.56. Whatever you can spare. Like I say, we’re running low ourselves. Of course, the more you give us, the more likely we are to be successful.” She’d used the line many times over the years, and it always led to them being well equipped.
“I’ll have a root around, princess,” Alister said, his tone forcefully casual, saluting with three fingers. “See you tonight.”
Clara skirted around the lorry and headed back into town. The sun hit her from behind a cloud, warm and healing. She took a deep breath of crisp spring air, for the first time that year, smelling the change in the seasons. She was Augmented now. The changes were only subtle, and her powers elementary, but with training, before long, she could be formidable. Clara smiled. The sunlight dipped behind a curtain of grey, but she was confident it would return brighter than before.
Crossing the river, Clara walked up the hillside path towards the cartographer’s cottage. She announced herself at the gate, and James let her in.
“How are you?” Clara asked.
The old man grunted at her and scampered back inside his workshop at the back of the cramped cottage Clara shut the door behind her, listening to the quiet of the house, hoping that his wife Sonji would appear and greet her. “Where’s Sonji?”
“Out.”
“Alright then,” Clara said under her breath. She tiptoed over the clutter, around a tattered tower of cardboard boxes and stood at the table opposite James. “You done with your tinkering yet?”
“Sixteen hours,” he said. “You’re early.”
“I’m eager to see what you’ve got.”
James glanced at her, then straightened his back a little. “She’s a beauty. All old architecture.” His voice was warmer all of a sudden. “If I had a month to work on her, hell, if I had a week…” He took her terminal out from under his desk and handed her it. She inspected the device. A small digital screen encased in metal and protective glass. The strap itself was padded on the inside, fastened with a heavy latch. Putting it on, Clara hadn't realised how naked she’d felt without it. The terminal weighed pleasantly in her arm, but something was different. A touch of cold, like a drop of ice, on the top of her wrist.
“Leave it alone,” James said. “Let it interface.”
“What is it?” After having her genetic information combed over by the Patrician technician earlier that morning, Clara was wary of another invasion of privacy.
“Wait a minute.” The cold ebbed until Clara barely noticed the change. A notification appeared on her terminal. She scowled at the interface. It was all different. Several new tabs appeared on the homepage. Alongside the usual ‘Maps’, ‘Database’, ‘Notes’, ‘Radio’, and the defunct ‘Master Network’ tabs were three new sections: ‘Scanner’, ‘Direct Link’ and ‘Augmentation’.
Clara raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been busy.”
“The scanner has a variable range of ten to fifty metres, depending on what tools are operational.” James jumped into the explanation. He spoke almost too quickly to understand. “I have fitted a motion detection, temperature disparity, geiger counter and sonic reflection array, although the array is only rudimentary.”
“That’s… a lot.”
“The direct link is a programme I and some colleagues wrote ourselves years ago. It’s a polite term for hacking. It might come in handy. The cold spot on your arm is a conductor for your AI to interface with the terminal. Click the link.”
Clara opened the Augmentation tab. Displayed before her were the abilities she’d just calibrated at the AMC in written form:
Thunder Delineation
Thundercalp (Tier 1): The Electrobiotic Conductor emits thunderous energy from kinetic contact, capable of stunning foes or causing damage in close range.
Guiding Light (Tier 1): The Electrobiotic Conductor clenches their fist, condensing thunderous energy into a controlled light, usable as a beacon.
Tesla Delineation
Teslatic Burst (Tier 1): The Electrobiotic Conductor may ionise their body, summoning power from the atmosphere, nearby electronic equipment and their biological reserves, and transmit this energy in the form of lightning. Control over this ability may lead to a plethora of applications both in and out of combat.
Neural Shock (Tier 1): Target the nervous system of foes with a precise electrical attack, temporarily paralysing or causing intense disorientation.
Clara read through the entries, comparing them with what she’d envisioned inside the AMC. “It doesn’t… will this recalibrate me now?”
“No,” he frowned. “Don’t be stupid. You still need the AMC. That’s just a readout.”
“Hey,” Clara said. “I’m new to this. Give me a break.” She scrolled through her abilities, all in orderly rows with expandable descriptions, and smiled. “Can I get a readout on anyone?”
“Anyone who wears the terminal, yes. Or you can programme it to only work with yourself, or select people. That’s all in the settings.”
Clara scrolled through the information. “This is quite an improvement.”
“Yeah, and you owe me big time.”
“Hey, I never asked for an upgrade.”
“No, your terminal did. It was screaming for a cleanup and re-write. Your software is almost ten years old, kid! I thought you were professionals.”
“I am a professional,” Clara said. “For one, I don’t bargain for something I can’t afford. And this,” she raised her arm, “I can’t afford.”
“You can owe me,” James said, sitting back in his chair. “Click on networking.”
“That tab doesn’t do anything.”
“Now it does.”
Clara opened the master network tab. Where before, there was displayed an error message, now there was a blank screen with a single option. The box read ‘James Clay - Cartographer - Milltown’, followed by a string of numbers she did not recognise.
“That’s a direct link to my satellites,” James said. “Anytime you need to trade, I’ll be on the other end. And currently, you’ve racked up quite a bill. Check the notes.”
Clara opened the Notes tab. Above all of her entries, there was a new note titled ‘Outstanding Terminal Upgrade’. The note read: ‘Still owed: Six zones of lesser value, or two of major intrigue. - Your favourite cartographer, Clay.’ The man had signed the note with the syntax colon P, which combined, appeared like a smiley face sticking its tongue out.
Clara looked at James, sitting on the edge of his cluttered desk. The button shirt he was wearing was torn and tight fitting. His face was lined and pitted, but his eyes were still bright with a glint of youth. Clara scowled. “Do you scam all your customers like this?”
“Only the dumb ones.”
A grin broke her composure, she couldn’t help herself. The upgrades were very intriguing, and the fact that James was willing to accept credit for the work was very fortunate. The Augmentation tab especially would come in handy if she wanted to focus on improving her abilities in the field and in training. “Sure you wanna take credit from a dumb mercenary?”
“Desperate times,” James said, pulling out a computer component from a shelf and a soldering iron. “Have you met with the New Patricions yet?” His voice dropped an octave and he mentioned their name.
“I have.”
“And what do you think about them?”
“They’re a gang like any other. Bit cookey. Bit obsessed. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Right…” His expression dampened. Clearly, it wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “I’ve got work to do. You can let yourself out.”
Clara lingered in the workshop, the sudden tone shift caught her flat footed. “We should be able to pay you back soon enough, got a job lined up.”
“Good.”
“Thanks for the work.”
“Uh-huh.”
Clara left through the maze of clutter and opened the front door to leave.
“Don’t forget who your friends are,” James called after her as she left.
Clara paused outside on the doorstep. ‘Friends’ was an expensive word in the wasteland. She trusted Andy with her life, but everyone else was business. Walking down the garden path, she headed down the hillside towards the Haven Inn. “What do you think?” she asked her AI aloud, gazing into the treetops for Ohm’s answer.
Please clarify the question, the voice came from inside her head.
“Can we trust him?”
My programming is limited for characteristic impressions. Assessing memories now. Clara had almost returned to the inn before Ohm had a response. James, the cartographer, appears willing to engage in a professional relationship with Andrew and Clara.
“Well, you weren’t wrong. You do have your limitations.” Clara deposited her firearm in the inn’s storehouse and went upstairs to their rented room. Andy was still fast asleep in bed when she arrived. It didn’t look like he’d moved at all. Clara lifted up the blanket and prodded his big toe where it poked through his sock, flexing the electronic impulses in her body just as she had practised the previous night. But now that she was calibrated, would her abilities come easier, such as Neural Shock? A blue spark crackled on her fingertip, zapping as it arched into Andy’s toe. He spasmed under the sheets, kicking like a mule.
Clara clapped her hands above his head, detonating a Thunderclap which exploded like a flashbang in his face. She hadn’t expected it to be so loud. Andy shot upright, falling out of bed, eyes wide and frightened. Clara bit her tongue, but couldn’t hold back her laughter when she saw his face. “Rise and shine, shithead. We’ve got work to do.”