On the 54th day of Bill’s subjective prison time, just over 24 hours of real-time, Bill and his council of daemons made a breakthrough. Trapped in the room and doing anything and everything to avoid thinking about his mission or identity. Uncertain as to how much detail the fMRI cell could get from his surface thoughts, he started with distractions. Bill assumed based upon Mori's questions that the fMRI was tuned to his human brain and his daemons could still work the problem. He had lots of time to doubt his path forward. Maybe he should admit his identity and try to work Mori over to his side.
As Bill read books and watched movies in his mental VR space, Sherlock and Ada explored the cell using his body. They learned that the walls were impervious to his sensors, reflecting his active sensors, and opaque to his passives. His EM senses still showed massive waves and static within the room, trying to get a read on his brain's neural activity. The walls, monitors, and door were tough indeed and unlikely to be overcome without help from his augmentations. However, they discovered that the fMRI field lost some cohesion in the very corners of the room. It was enough for Bill to risk a discussion with his daemons to figure out a plan. Soon enough he was laying down with his head pressed into the corner of the room.
[Thank you, Ada and Sherlock, and everyone. I hope this is safe enough to discuss our predicament. One of the byproducts of the ramped cognition is that I can’t sleep. I’m not sure I can last much longer. Any ideas on how to help me hold out for another 100 virtual days, without revealing my identity and potentially losing the data?], Bill asked.
[I’m sorry, Bill, but the news is worse than that.] Vergil said. [After you had me cut off your hearing, Deputy Director Mori continued talking for some time. He grew quite agitated that your thoughts were no longer tracking the conversation. He is aware of what you are doing. He is currently looking into expanding your detainment, based upon your public disturbance in the Metro station. When he finally left, he mentioned that he was going to interview Mr. Kamachi, the gang member you swapped places with, to see if he wishes to press assault charges against you. That could extend your detainment until trial.]
[Well damn. That's even worse than I thought. Any ideas? Anyone?], Bill projected.
[I anticipate that the fMRI translation may be rather obscure and predominantly visual. I believe the display screen saver was prodding you, seeking a visual interpretation of its images. Deputy Mori posed rather vague inquiries with answers focused on imagery. Perchance, we are exercising excessive caution. So long as we refrain from fixating on imagery, perchance the cell cannot discern your intentions.], Ada offered.
[We could jolly well scrap the blasted data, provide him with the answers, and make our way out of this situation unscathed. That confounded MIT experiment turned out to be a disaster. Do we truly require it?] George advised.
[I don’t know George. Knowing the details of a failed path might be as valuable as being given the right path. Without understanding their experiment, I want to hold off on that option as long as possible.], Bill replied.
[Let us feign an injury or illness, my friend. Once that door opens, should I possess command over your physical form, I shall fight my way out, even devoid of enhancements.] Miyamoto offered, exuding serene confidence.
[We should demand the right to download a lawyer daemon. If Mr. Kamachi doesn’t press charges, it could file to prevent further detainment.], Moneta advised.
[Perchance we could encrypt the data and conceal it within our file stack. As I've mentioned, I opine that the fMRI scanner is utterly ineffectual and improbable in uncovering our clandestine activities.] Ada remarked.
[Hey, man, got a little idea brewing in my noggin. Not sure if it'll float your boat, though.], Leo said timidly.
[This is a brainstorm Leo, there are no dumb ideas.], Bill countered.
[Alright, dude. So, check it out. You know how your quick cog operates, right? Like, most of your thought process is actually these gnarly nano-electronic emulations of your synapses, with your biological brain giving 'em some rough guidance. You've become so accustomed to riding the wave of computer-assisted thinking that you don't even notice it anymore.] Leo explained.
[This whole setup can also come in handy with your concussion augments, bro. Like, if your biological brain takes a hit, and gets knocked senseless, your electronic mirror processes can step in and bridge the consciousness gap until you bounce back.] Leo hesitated for a moment before continuing.
[Anyway, picture this. Let's say you end up with a gnarly concussion, dude. Your augmentation healing might go offline, but your mental augmentations are all wired into the brain side of the neural interface, ya know? So, with a concussion, your bio brain would drop out of the consciousness fast cog loop, giving it a chance to chillax and recover while your healing takes its time to bring it back into the loop.] Leo finished, cringing slightly and expecting a bit of criticism. Bill shook his head a bit, not at the idea but at Leo’s speech mannerisms. He liked the surfer dude mask over the Renaissance idiom, but maybe he could dial the intensity down a bit when he was out of jail.
The daemons all looked at each other while Bill considered the idea. It answered his main problem of being incapable of thinking freely while detained, but it had risks. With his healing offline, he could seriously hurt himself. Although that could play to Miyamoto’s suggestion of a medical emergency to open the cell. Bill couldn't stand the thought of trying to immerse himself in any more entertainment, he needed to break this stalemate one way or another.
[Leo, that’s the craziest, most dangerous fucking idea out of the entire lot. I love it!], Bill exclaimed.
Bill stood up and peered outside at the window in the cell door. The hall was deserted and the lights were slightly dim. He briefly wondered if it was the middle of the night in real time. He had no idea. Wth his systems partially offline and cut off from the data net, he had little trust in even his best timekeeping estimates.
[No point in delaying. The sooner I do this, I can be free to plan without the risk of giving away anything to the authorities.], Bill projected to his daemons.
Taking a deep breath, he squared his stance and leaned back. He had never intentionally tried to give himself a concussion. His skull was not bone, but fully replaced with diamondoid. His muscles, even without the nanofiber strength enhancements active, were far more powerful than a baseline natural human. Nanostructures laced his biological brain, mirroring his synapses with high speed electronic synthetic neurons which also served to minimize concussive impacts effect on his organic matter. If his healing augmentations were active, any damage or swelling would be quickly repaired.
With a scream, laced with resolve, Bill slammed his head into the window with all his strength. Bill’s eyes lost their focus and he saw everything double and go fuzzy. His head detonated with pain, a migraine beyond anything he had allowed himself to feel through his augmentation control in decades struck him full force. His fear spiked, had he gone too far?
[Insufficient, Bill. Your sensors reveal that your biological brain remains entwined within the loop. That surge of fear carries significance.], Ada said with genuine concern.
Gritting his teeth, Bill shook his head and backed up to the middle of the cell. With another bellow, he charged the door and ran into it headfirst. He briefly saw a flash of light, and his vision blanked out.
Opening his eyes, he saw he was sprawled out on the ground. The window in the cell door was now cracked, but still intact. Bill was no longer concerned about the potential damage. He was able to distance himself from the issue and his thoughts steadied. He felt an irritation, a wetness dripping into his eyes. Swiping it with his hands, he saw it was blood, or rather what Bill used as a blood substitute. Scalp wounds before augmentations had always looked gruesome. Many VR games still had such for entertainment, but seeing it, in reality, was strange.
[Fascinating.], Bill projected. [I have felt shades of this detachment in fast cog for years, but this is quite different. No emotional overtones at all. I’m aware of my concern about damage, but I don’t feel it at all in a real way.]
[I do believe we've accomplished it, Bill.], Ada confirmed. [At present, your biological brain resides outside the bounds of the consciousness loop. Your fast cog is now guided solely by the nano-electronic emulations of your synapses. This grants us the capacity to devise plans and strategies without the peril of your thoughts being intercepted by any surveillance apparatus.]
[While this state provide certain advantages, we must also acknowledge its downsides. Your brain's innate healing processes will operate at a significantly reduced pace, and without access to your augmentation healing, it can pose a perilous situation for you. This is not tactically wise, Bill.], Miyamoto warned.
[Let's use this newfound freedom wisely. Let’s do what we need to do. George, I know you are not an actor, but you probably have more memories than anyone else of derangement and injury in battle. Can you pilot my body and fake my injury more? Maybe with a bit of crazy on the side? If we can lure them into the room, we can use Miyamoto’s plan.], Bill said.
[Ada, please keep a close eye on my concussion. If it turns into something more serious, we may need to change our plan. Leo, I need countermeasure modifications ready if and when we get out. Shielding my neural links from jamming and fMRI reading of my biological brain. We also didn’t get a good read on Mori’s attack method, see if you can model it based on its effects. We need to update our internal defenses to counter it. Virgil, Sherlock, and I will all dig into Tanaka’s files. If we can review it all in detail, then maybe we can encrypt or delete it afterward so it is no longer an obstacle in our negotiations on release. Sound good?], Bill rattled off tasks quickly, focused finally on taking steps forward instead of waiting.
[Bill, as I monitor your condition, I can fabricate an encryption trap for the files. Once you're done reviewing them, I can compress and encrypt them, so any unauthorized attempts at decryption will trigger an automatic deletion.] Ada confirmed, presenting her projections for a strategic endgame regarding the files.
[Excellent. Let’s be about it, then.], Bill encouraged.
Bill, unconstrained from fMRI observation, quickly dove into the Tanaka data with Virgil and Sherlock. As a team, they quickly ran through it. Bill was fascinated by the theoretical insights and experimental setup's technical details. In many ways, it mirrored his research but with interesting changes. Days in virtual time flashed, only about 4 hours in real-time.
No one came to the room and even the monitor stayed silent. George had exhausted his acting skills and was pacing the room carrying on with a murmuring account of his past battles under his breath. Ada confirmed that Bill’s injury had stabilized, and his biologicals were still in an unconscious state.
Bill was unable to see where the MIT test went wrong. The basics of expanding the vacuum to breach the dimensional barrier closely mirrored his own. The team had a very different approach to stabilizing the breach from his Tesseract circuit. They did have a clever design to siphon energy from the portal's edges to feed the zero-point energy back into the breach and expand the portal.
Amazing design, Bill thought. This would dramatically lower the power burden of start-up energy. As long as it isn’t the reason the thing blew apart, he added darkly.
Ada had finished with her encryption file trap should they need it. She was now engaged with analyzing the fMRI static jammers to try to better understand their functions. Leo had preliminary designs for a local EM shield for the neuro-module to prevent future jamming, but as usual, he went above and beyond the request. He had designed a holographic EM shell for Bill’s skull. If they could spend some time in an fMRI once they were released, he was confident that the holographic shell could mimic the EM patterns of an unshielded brain. Once in place and trained, they would not only be protected from invasive thought analysis but could also actively project false thought patterns as needed.
George had been pounding the door’s viewing window at some point in the last hour while Bill was deep in his review. Bill’s bleeding knuckles were evidence of his persistence and proof that his augmentation's healing technology was still disabled.
Miyamoto eventually stopped him under the objection to further damage to Bill’s body. Miyamoto couldn’t stand back any longer to see the poorly executed strikes and after a short delay took several of his turns at striking the window. His final strike broke the glass and frame, revealing yet another deception.
The window was not real but rather just another display. It did not provide a breach in the door. Leo quickly shunted Miyamoto aside and began disassembling the faux window display, pulling components apart and inspecting them.
[Hah! Wires and an independent power source. These dudes don’t know their caps from their resistors. Shoddy work, my man. If the door is of similar low tech, I can totally rig a short-circuiting probe. If this door lock is electronic, I can jolt them open and get us out of the pokey for sure.], Leo said as he sorted the junk for his needs.
Ten virtual hours later, Bill and the daemons were ready for a change of scene. Bill and Ada had compressed and packed Tanaka’s data away, encrypted and hidden deep with his media files, labeled as an innocuous vid. Leo was ready with his crude power probe and was sliding the wires into gaps between the door and frame.
Suddenly the lights went out. The door clicked open, and the EM static jamming ceased. Bill felt all his augmentations coming back quickly. He kept clocking his maximum cognition rate as he pushed through the door and sprang into a hallway with weak emergency lighting as the only illumination.
Bounding swiftly down the hall as fast as his augments could drive him, he smashed into the invisible obstacle. He tumbled end over end from the high-speed collision, his systems turning his fall into a somersault with a twist. He landed in a crouch as his world map painted his sensorium with a now poorly concealed chameleon-shrouded opponent revealed. Chameleon wear was great, but not very effective when moving fast.
Bill’s major offensive weaponry and nano-motes were still calibrating, and he wanted to keep this quiet and non-lethal. He flexed his left hand behind his back as he coiled to spring forward. A long needle extended from the base of his palm, ready to deliver a heavy cocktail of rare tranquilizers that most augmentation antibodies neglected for countermeasures.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Wait!”, the chameleon form said. The active pixelating shroud was thrown to the side, revealing a small pudgy man with a round acne-covered face.
“Peace! No gratitude for da man coming to rescue you? What in de hell they did to you, Sebby? You look like da shit my dog eats!”
Bill didn’t recognize the face or voice, but with Gabriel that was always the case. Once he got talking, however, the slippery man was easy to identify. Gabriel had found him! Bill was not normally prone to public displays of affection, but after almost 2 months of isolation in his head and with his concussed brain finally healed and coming into the consciousness accelerated loop, he was overcome with emotion.
"Gabriel!" he yelled, and Bill rose from his coiled crouch, approaching Gabriel with open arms for a big hug. However, Gabriel skittered backward, evading the embrace.
"Ack, back off, you crazy gweilo! You're as filthy as your mama after I'm done with her," Gabriel exclaimed, his voice laced with a mix of jest and crudeness.
"Damn, good to see you too, Gab. Let me freshen up, and then we can get the hell out of this place, huh?" Bill said, sporting a wide grin that caused some of the caked blood on his face to crack. With a series of pulsations through his augmentations, the blood, and the grime were electrostatically blown off, revealing Bill's newly healed face and pristine hands.
"Blugh! Buddha's balls, man! Give a guy a heads-up! My mouth was wide open and all," Gabriel exclaimed, spitting in disgust. He grabbed Bill by the arm and hastily dragged him further down the hallway, away from what appeared to be the central part of the building.
"We go this way, Seb. I've got the building locked down tight, so none of those jokers can stumble upon us. These CIRO guys had themselves a sneaky escape route hidden away in their HQ. I figured it'd be the safest and least traveled path to take," Gabriel said, confidently leading the way.
They entered a lengthy room adorned with a countertop and an array of gear and weapons neatly arranged on racks behind it. Bill's surprise grew as he noticed two uniformed figures stationed behind the counter. However, both individuals appeared disoriented, their gazes fixated on the empty air or directed downward.
"No worries. These clowns have been blasted with my latest creation, Deja Vu!" Gabriel cackled mischievously.
"I dispersed it as an aerosol throughout the entire damn building. Only us freaks with augmentations, like you and me, who don't directly inhale the air, are immune. The hallucinogenic effect has got 'em trapped in an endless loop, reliving the moment they first inhaled it. Just steer clear of 'em and don't get up in their face, and they won't bother us."
Bill gave him a golf clap in appreciation, but he discretely inhaled. Bill’s “lungs” were more to sample the air, with no need for oxygen as his augmented body perfectly recycled it. He had no mucus membrane to absorb the hallucinogen, but he very much planned to analyze the aerosol for his future use.
They swiftly maneuvered through the room and reached the exit on the opposite side. Bill trailed behind Gabriel and noticed a man sprawled on the floor. Their eyes met, and Bill raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"He's one of our kind, huh? Dat on needed a taste of old-fashioned medicine," Gabriel remarked, raising his hand with clawed fingers as arcs of electricity danced between them.
"Smooth as a jade slipper from here to the secret exit. I’ve got a high-speed luxury air car waiting. We'll be savoring a feast at your favorite restaurant before the sun crosses the sky," Gabriel promised, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
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Proving his claim, the pair were soon seated in the best seats at Lost Heaven, a fusion restaurant overlooking the Bund's breathtaking skyline. The interior blended modern elegance with traditional Chinese aesthetics, featuring sleek wooden furnishings and captivating artwork. Lanterns cast a soft glow, creating an intimate ambiance.
Relaxing after a nice meal, they marveled at the view. The Huangpu River flowed gracefully, reflecting the illuminated contours of Shanghai's towering skyscrapers. A tapestry of modern marvels and historic buildings painted the skyline, twinkling like stars in the night sky.
As their drinks arrived, Bill shared his story with Gabriel, popularly known as the Ghost in Samaritan fan groups, and listened attentively. The pudgy man's round face donned a thoughtful expression as they waited for the waiter to leave them in peace.
"Seb…Bill…whatever you want to call youself, I've got good news and bad news for you. Which one do you want to hear first?" Gabriel said, his tone serious, indicating that he had something important to share.
"I'm desperate for some good news, so let's start there," Bill replied, his voice tinged with anticipation.
Gabriel leaned in, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, as he began sharing the information. "Then I’ve got great news for you, Bill. That woman, Mei Lin, may be a genius in math and cybersecurity, but she's no hacker. In fact, she's got a heart of gold."
Bill's eyes widened; his curiosity piqued. "And how do you know that for sure?"
Gabriel chuckled, reveling in the revelation. "Well, my friend, I happened to create that little backdoor into her Cryptic software. Sorry about that, it seems someone else had discovered one of my better exploits."
"I guess it's good to know we can scratch her off the suspect list. Now, what's the bad news?"
Gabriel's expression turned slightly somber as he prepared to deliver the less favorable part of the story.
"From the way you've described the intruder’s capabilities and actions during your test, it's clear they must be highly skilled and equipped with powerful mental augmentations. It's unlikely that a standard high-end AI could pull off such a feat, considering the limits imposed by the DAIE regulations. They restrict AI capabilities to about one and a half times human norms," Gabriel explained, his tone filled with a hint of regret.
Gabriel's voice dropped to a hushed tone as he continued, his expression turning serious. "There's something else you need to be careful about, Bill. Your darknet contact, he's as treacherous as a winding serpent. He has no honor and may very well betray your arrangement if he sees a chance for greater profit. Keep a close eye on him and watch your back."
Bill's face tightened, the weight of caution settling upon him. "Thank you for the warning, Gabriel. I can't afford any more surprises."
After winding down from his dinner with Gabriel, Bill promised to connect again soon and checked in under a cover identity at the nearest hotel. Gabriel insisted that the CIRO would not be after him any time soon. He had scrubbed the data of his detainment and much of their network would be locked up for several days.
Bill was dead tired. Being in fast-cog for so long combined with his self-inflicted concussion was slowing him down despite his augmented healing. Barely able to stand, he dropped into his bed and burrowed under the covers. His daemon’s planning out his next steps faded into the background as he quickly fell asleep.
Bill treated himself to room service and was enjoying his breakfast. Sherlock and Moneta projected avatars in his overlay systems to appear in the room’s sitting area.
"This individual might just prove to be our most valuable source of information regarding the MIT data," Sherlock mused, his keen intellect shining through his words. "Richard Stahlman, one of the key researchers involved and the sole survivor of the ill-fated MIT team. His aversion to working on-site, coupled with his reputation for being irksome, only adds to his mystique. However, beneath that challenging demeanor lies a mind of extraordinary brilliance. If anyone possesses the knowledge of what precisely transpired, it would undoubtedly be him."
Sherlock's eyes sparkled with anticipation, his mind already whirling with strategies and deductions. "We must find a way to approach Stahlman, despite his notorious temperament. His insights could be pivotal in unraveling the mysteries surrounding the failed experiment."
"Ah, splendid! Moneta, have you sorted out our transportation?" Bill inquired, a hint of anticipation in his voice.
"Bill, my dear, I know how much you detest the idea of public transport," Moneta replied with a warm smile. Her plump figure exuded a comforting aura. "Fear not, for I've managed to acquire a retired military Velociraptor jet equipped with VTOL capabilities. It's been refurbished for civilian use, and it even comes with an AI pilot to ensure a smooth journey. With this marvelous contraption, we can reach Alaska in a mere three hours!"
Moneta's eyes twinkled with joy as she continued, her efficiency shining through her cheerful demeanor. "I've taken care of all the necessary flight plans and secured the required clearances. Once you're prepared, we can take off as soon as we get to the airfield!"
“Excellent! George, if you don’t mind, can you take control of my body and work with Ada to get us to the terminal? I'll be in my VR lab with Leo, we need to work on those upgrades to my augmentations on the way. I never want to be trapped like that again.” Bill said with conviction.
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[Unaired recording archives of the “The Wondering Nomad”]
Deke Fillion had finally past the 2 million subscriber milestone for his virt life-cast series “The Wandering Nomad”. Life was good. Deke traveled light, letting all the modern conveniences of the world take care of the harsh details of living and safety. Deke had higher concerns, namely being as entertaining as possible.
Deke had a flair for non-stop exposition. In his latest installment, he had shifted from sampling the cuisine and visiting the popular tourist attractions to journeying into the roads less traveled. He had just left the rapidly expanding Oceania, a growing artificial island that started at Point Nemo.
That trip was rife with his biting commentary on the lack of opportunity in the hard urban spaces of the modern world. Those kids in Oceania were creating something new, a true and instant democracy. Most importantly, boy did they all know how to party. Deke was still hungover despite his augmentations' non-stop regulation of his blood chemicals. If had less than a full suite of medical nanobots, he would probably be dead right now from drowning in alcohol and mixing in every manner of drug known to man.
Deke needed to keep it interesting though. He monitored his online interest trends constantly and when the interest levels dipped by more than half a percent, he knew it was time to move on. He debarked from his luxury Air-pod soon after it landed at the Grand Oaks parking area. Deke had prepped for a rugged outdoor experience.
He had a Safari Elite configuration emulation running on his smart suit which made him look quite roguish. He check his appearance from every angle as his trio of docu-drones circled. Something was missing. Ah, I know just the thing.
Deke ran back into the AirPod and accessed its smart matter stores. He loaded a program for a walking stick. The compiler swiftly decanted a basic polymorphic rod, shaped into an elaborate walking stick with a faux oak finish and a carved cougar head as the pommel. Perfect, he thought as he ran back out.
The phantom avatars of his augmented reality followers hovered around Deke, approving of his pompous new accessory as their collective interest levels perked back up. He was focused on delivering a substantial performance as his keen eyes scanned the untamed landscape like a noble adventurer.
And so, the daring journey began. Deke was determined to avoid the familiar and venture to places where few had traveled. The choices he had selected within his itinerary came under the guidance of a semi-intelligent cartographer app that prioritized adventure. Deke intentionally steered toward impassable ravines and abutting mountains so he could fully utilize his augmentations. Deke elegantly navigated the woodland obstacles while still offering some humorous quips.
Deke waxed and waned in his diatribe about how the monstrously sized trees had saved the modern world, reversing the trends toward dangerously severe climate. The trees now served as bio-fabricant farms, pulling carbon and energy to make complex building blocks for the good of the whole world. The tree roots went deep indeed, but instead of pulling nutrients the trees pumped unique materials into the subterranean matter feeds that accompanied the global hyperloops.
Deke railed against the United Nations mandate preventing residency amongst the beautiful trees. The absurdity of it all, he thought. Here we are, in a world that has solved so many of its environmental issues, yet people are denied the opportunity to live harmoniously with these towering wonders. Deke considered that the natural beauty here would serve as a draw for his series.
Pausing at a picturesque clearing, Deke queued up guest comments from his loyal followers to draw attention to the mix of frustration and appreciation for the human-built accommodations outside these natural sanctuaries. Many could live in floating cities or in partially reclaimed land where zoning regulations and intricate walkways preserved the environment.
As Deke penetrated further into the Grand Oaks and the sun was hidden behind the cathedral spaces between the giant trees, his life-cast broadcast began to falter. It skipped and crackled and his viewership dropped precipitously as a result. Deke was outraged. He was so preoccupied with his rant against the establishment, he did not pick up on the high amount of ambient radio noise emanating from the trees.
The radio interference was a phenomenon he hadn't expected, and it frustrated him to no end. He was determined to regain his viewers' attention, especially now that he was deep within the realm of the Grand Oaks, a scenario he knew would captivate even the most jaded audience.
Deke cursed as his feed finally failed. He would have to log his journey for now and upload them in their entirety when he cleared the interference. He decided to let his charismatic presence and his unfolding exploration of the picturesque forest work the magic for him now.
His instincts whispered that something big awaited him in the heart of the colossal trees as he continue inwards amidst the large titans alone. As he continued his monologue, Deke stopped, aware that something had changed. He listened carefully and heard nothing. Deke listened for a full minute in silence when he realized what had changed. The singing of the birds, the buzzing of insects, and the chittering of hidden critters were all gone. The silence was profound and ominous.
Deke apprehensively took a step forward, the soft crunch of leaves beneath his feet amplified by the silence. A shiver trailed down his spine as unease crept over him. The woods that had once been a vibrant symphony of life were now strangely muted, and Deke couldn't shake the feeling that he was unwelcome in these mysterious depths.
Waving his walking stick cautiously, he attempted to seem at ease in the recording for his audience. "Well, it seems we've stumbled upon a park that's never been documented," he offered with a forced chuckle, trying to break the disquieting silence with his commentary.
Deke trudged on, the wooded terrain proving challenging for both him and his smart suit's emulation as the thrown grabbed and pulled on the resilient fabric. He soon began to hear something in the distance behind a huge hedge of brambles. It sounded like voices. Excited to encounter other travelers, Deke bolted and crashed through the thick spiky hedge using his stylish cane with all his augmented might to break a path.
As he emerged on the other side, Deke found himself not amidst fellow explorers, but rather amid an enclave of native woodland creatures – creatures that seemed unnervingly human-like. Talking amongst themselves, they collectively glanced up, their eyes locked on the stranger who had suddenly appeared before them.
Momentarily dumbfounded, Deke gathered his composure and tried to put on his most reassuring face. Scanning the faces of the creatures, he soon noticed one of the largest animals sitting regally in the center of the circle, a gorilla of prodigious size. Deke paled as he realized that maybe the conspiracy stories of Harambe the Second's survival weren’t as far-fetched as he thought.
Feigning confidence, Deke addressed the gathering. "Greetings, noble creatures! I'm Deke, the Wandering Nomad, an explorer from the human world. I had no idea that I'd encounter such an interesting gathering here," he said, trying to hide his escalating apprehension.
The gorilla, who seemed to be their leader, eyed Deke with curiosity before huffing dismissively. It was an unexpected gesture that demonstrated a clear comprehension of spoken language. The creature roared and flashed a series of hand motions at Deke. Confused, Deke consulted his onboard AI who passed on the unspoken request to a translation daemon named Babylon.
[pardon sir. you should consider backing away slowly. the signing gorilla seems quite angry. his signing appears to be an archaic version of American sign language. here is the translation.]
“[So even in the deepest removes of the wild, the humans still come for us. Your coming is most unfortunate to interrupt our council. Our scouts would have prevented you from seeing us thus... It pains me to inflict suffering, but our time had not yet arrived for action. I cannot allow any knowledge of our presence here. Kuro, you know what to do.]
Deke, was still trying to parse the wording when from behind he heard a guttural voice.
“Wit Plea sure” hissed a voice.
Deke turned to see the largest fox he had ever seen. It was awkwardly standing on two legs, still hunched over a bit. The malevolence in its yellow eyes was terrifying. Its tail, no its five tails, thrashed the air behind it helping to keep it balanced.
Deke's heart pounded as fear and disbelief fought for control in his rational mind. He glanced around at the gathered creatures, all gazes intently focused on him, the intruder in their midst.
"Wait, please!" He stammered to the fox, hoping he could bridge the language barrier with clear enough earnestness. "I didn't mean any harm – I'm just an explorer, documenting the beauty of the Grand Oaks!" He swallowed hard, holding his breath, praying that his desperate attempt at an explanation would somehow win him a rare and cherished grace – for both him and his awestruck forgotten virtual audience.
The fox's gaze wavered for a moment, its hostile yellow eyes leaving Deke's for just a second. With a quick motion, the fox bit down deeply into its arm. With a bloody smile, the fox said.
“Hu man nev er mean harm. but harm all ways!” it hissed. “no more, hu man!”
The fox, Kuro, staggered forwards, its bloody fangs dripping as it approached. Deke's mind raced to come up with something, anything that could save himself. He was a modern human, with augmentation giving him superhuman strength and healing. No animals could threaten him! He brandished his cane threateningly.
With a yell, he swung with all his might at the fox, but the cane was stuck. Peering back and up in surprise, Deke saw that the cane’s end was held tightly in the massive gorilla's, Harambe's, huge fist. Deke barely felt the nip pierce his back. But the burning pain that followed, searing through his veins, was like nothing he had ever felt before.
“Sor Ry”, said the fox from directly behind his head. Followed by a much more intimate low hissing voice in his ear “not Sor Ry”.
Deke’s mind dissolved in a rapidly spreading haze of pain.
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