Chapter 20: Technicalities [3]
Cancelling the task proved simpler than the dire scenarios her mind had conjured. The item, highlighted in pale yellow, bore a familiar row of icons along its right edge: Pause/Resume, Priority, Power, and Cancel. A wry smile tugged at her lips as recognition dawned—the designs were indistinguishable from those in her previous world. Unoriginal. Misaligned with this new reality. And yet, their familiar and intuitive layout were undeniable.
“Let’s not dwell on it,” She muttered, a hint of resignation coloring her words. “It is what it is. Creativity is dead.”
Estelle forced her attention elsewhere before those thoughts could take root. She tapped the cancel icon—a circle bisected by an angled line—and watched the task fade from the queue. 'Oh, hey. At least we know there's an option to change the power—' she began, before cutting herself off with a sudden realization.
‘Oh, wait a minute.’
Her head snapped left, gaze jumping from the array of knobs to the nexus protocol module, finally settling on the open energy display above. Where she'd expected to see clustered images of generators—a sprawling network of lines and nodes—she found only text. Dense, tiring text. “Oh, right,” Estelle murmured, memory clicking into place—'I switched...'
Estelle took one step toward the left terminal before halting. “Actually, maybe not…” she muttered, her thoughts turning inward. ‘I need to check its power consumption first. If it exceeds the surplus, better not to risk it. So it might be better to get a reading report from the main terminal, if so.’
Her attention drifted to the main terminal’s monitor, where the image of a slab of meat—Modified Bovine Pattern-C—dominated at the center. The quiet chaos of indecision swirling in her mind abruptly stilled. Her hands moved on their own, reaching toward the screen to draw a symbol above the image. As her fingers completed the gesture, the display updated, and the image vanished.
The triple lines collapsed into a single one, reverting to their default gray. All that remained was an empty box at the center. Surrounding it, the secondary circlement contracted inward, its geometric circles—each once displaying an image of the factories—dissolving one by one until nothing remained.
"Huh, that worked,” the words slipped from Estelle's lips as she stared at the empty centerpiece. Her mind drifted in the silence that followed, thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. 'What was I doing again?'
Her brow furrowed before shooting upward with sudden recognition. “Oh, right. Power. Research power... something,” she mumbled, the words heavy on her tongue as she cast a glance toward the Research Terminal.
'It can't possibly draw that much power—I mean, 100 MW per hour can sustain an entire city subdivision,' she reasoned, positioning her hands back over the display. 'Besides, I can always adjust the power settings later. Better to get this done and move on to more interesting stuff.’
She stood motionless, contemplating how to phrase her prompt in terms the device would comprehend. The challenge of instantaneously simulating and shaping an imaginary object weighed on her mind. Seconds stretched into minutes while Estelle remained frozen, eyes locked on the display, her heartbeat the only rhythm breaking the profound silence. Finally, as if time itself had paused to accommodate her focus, she began to translate her thoughts into instructions.
She wrote:
[---]
Handheld Terminal Artifact of Architect origin. A versatile device capable of interfacing with Architect structures, integrated stations, and the Nous Crux Sphere. Upon successful pairing, it grants access to all digital functionalities. Ergonomically designed for humanoid species, specifically those with five-fingered hands, and secured with Architect-pattern recognition protocols.
The device's architecture comprises two distinct segments. The lower portion mimics a sword hilt, featuring ergonomic finger grooves. A tactile button adorns its side, while a distinct seam marks the housing for an extendable steel beam—the device's signal transmitter.
The upper segment resembles the form of a quill or slender blade, tapers to a fine nib at the tip. This precision tip facilitates interaction with holographic projections and digital interfaces. The upper component is detachable, functioning independently when required.
Activation of the button triggers a holographic interface—a translucent display hovering above the grip. The overall design philosophy balances utilitarian function with refined aesthetics.
[---]
Ideas crystallize first as whispers in the mind, transforming into text that flows like water from the creator's fingertips. As meaning breathes life into each word, the world's interpretation molds its final form. Only when the last thought finds its place does her immersion break, drawing her back from the depths of consciousness into reality.
Estelle's first breath caught in her throat, cold air rushing through her nose in a sharp gasp. Her body seemed to have forgotten its autonomic rhythms, forcing her to consciously regulate each breath. Her hands trembled subtly against the display, fingers fixed as the task of translating thought to reality remained unfinished.
'Guh,' a cough erupted from her throat, jolting her frame. Several more followed until one final, deep breath restored her equilibrium. 'Phew.'
She focused on the research terminal's centerpiece, noting how her fingers quivered against the holographic screen. Beneath them sprawled a text far more extensive than the simple description she had initially imagined, her joints now protesting the prolonged movement. Ignoring the discomfort, she reviewed her words.
Her thoughts drifted as she validated the meaning behind each phrase. 'I need to move beyond manual input... A digital pen would be ideal. Maybe a keyboard and mouse later. And while I'm at it, a sketchbook and ink.'
After a series of thoughtful nods, contemplative hums, and a final review, Estelle voiced her uncertainty. 'I might be missing something... And I'm not even sure this will work. The Architects never used handheld devices—why would they? Will it even connect with the terminal?' She paused, doubt creeping into her voice. 'Sure, I've done the worldbuilding, and everything so far supports it... Or am I just being presumptuous about my understanding?'
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A frustrated grumble escaped her pressed lips. Nothing left to do but trust the research terminal would function as intended. After all, she mused, the underlying mechanisms rarely aligned perfectly with a designer's vision.
As she lifted her fingers, the display's hue shifted, colors muting as if viewed through a filter. Above her extensive text, a small window materialized: [Establishing connection to the infosphere…]
A contemplative hum escaped her as she tried to recall the device's mechanical concepts, but the details eluded her. Arms folded, she watched the small window update: [Connection to the infosphere confirmed...] The text flickered briefly before being consumed by cascading lines of script, flowing too rapidly to read. Yet Estelle found herself transfixed.
A worldbuilder. She was supposed to be knowledgeable of the research terminal—its existence was fundamental to the Architects' technological advancement, embedded deeply in her worldbuilding. More crucially, it touched upon the most sensitive laws of her created universe. One wrong parameter could spawn contradictions or fatal flaws in the established framework.
As she absently stroked her chin, the window transformed again. The blur of script settled into readable text, leaving a single phrase: [Tapping into the infosphere... Processing... Processing Hypothetical variants: 12, 231...]
Her eye twitched as the number immediately jumped to five digits, despite her prompt modifications. The spike made sense, theoretically, yet still left her slightly bewildered. Drawing from her understanding of the system's other variables, Estelle pieced together its likely operation: 'The Research terminal must draw from the infosphere's data pool... gather what it needs... then close the connection to process the collected information. It's entropy in action. It evaluates variants closest to the user's prompt, discarding the irrelevant ones.'
She watched the counter climb until it halted at 2,459,892 hypothetical variants. Her confident smile faltered—while the system's potential for infinite variation was impressive, the sheer scale of possibilities made her uneasy. 'How long will this take?' she muttered. 'Though I suppose with more power, we could activate additional cores in the Nous Crux—There were only a few on active. That should help with computing... right? I rather not do that at the moment to gather power. '
She tilted her head, uncertainty threading through her words. 'Speaking of which, since it's running now, I should check the power consumption...'"
The small central window suddenly vanished. Blinking in surprise, Estelle noticed the text behind it had also disappeared. Her gaze shifted to the left queue panel. 'Must have finished,' she noted quietly.
There, in a rectangular listing, she found: [Research task queue ongoing: Architect Handheld Terminal Artifact || requested by Estelle_Nytelles... || Current status: Verifying Data]
Nodding to herself, she seized the moment to check its energy settings, tapping the icon at the queue's far right. A new display window materialized—yet another array of text, knobs, sliders, and real-time graphs. Her cheek twitched as she drew in a sharp breath before releasing it in a heavy sigh.
'Damn it... Just when I thought I was done with these interfaces, another set of parameters to configure...' she grumbled. 'I should take a break after this... Yeah... after this. I don't think there's anything else urgent… Well… Not that there were.’
She tried to focus on the display, but each attempt at analysis slipped away, like water seeping through the cracks of her fracturing mind.Her lips pressed into a thin line. Though surprisingly free of the usual headaches from extended reading, her scattered attention confirmed what she already knew. 'Yeah, definitely need that break...'
Eyes narrowed, she forced herself to read the topmost heading. [Power display graph]. Below it: [Operating Power Setting: Low... | Status: Phase 5 | Operating power: 300 KwH(Max)]
Her frown eased slightly. 'That's good,' she thought, 'At least I won't have to hunt for how to change the settings.’
That said, there was a difference in the user interface between the one she had used at home for her emergency supply and the ones in the Architect—though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Before her thoughts could drift into detailed comparisons, she redirected her attention to the graph below, labeled [General Power Consumption]. An initial spike in the data caught her eye, its magnitude surprising enough to spark her curiosity. She studied the timeline along the bottom, tracking from 0 seconds to 10 minutes across its width."
Her eyes tracked up the left axis, ranging from 0 kilowatts to—she jolted, head snapping forward—50 MWh. 'What the fuck? I thought... it was only 300 KW? What caused this?'
As the words slurred from her lips, she noticed the spike plummeting to an almost linear baseline near zero. The system appeared to be operating at the stated KWh setting, but that earlier surge past 50 MWh was an anomaly she couldn't dismiss. Scrolling further down, her fingers flicking the screen upward, she discovered more graphs, their lines erratic and unpatterned.
She attempted to decipher their labels, but found only alphanumeric strings that resembled code more than readable text. A helpless scowl crossed her face. 'Yeah, I don't want... to...' The words trailed off, her energy fading.
Another flick revealed more paragraphs, some against differently colored backgrounds, all labeled in equally incomprehensible terms. Her voice grew weaker with each word. 'Yeah, no... I don't want to... do that right now. Let's take a break—I want coffee, hot coffee. But... the power though.'
Her gaze drifted left toward the nexus protocol module. She considered checking the research terminal's overall power consumption rather than just the queued tasks, but the thought of encountering more graphs, sliders, and text—elements she had been drowning in for more than past hour—made her mentally recoil. Her sanity couldn't handle another technical deep dive.
Lips pursed, she mentally listed what needed doing before she could leave the base: creating paper and ink, writing reminder notes, checking other devices, assessing the station's status. Simple tasks in theory, accomplishable in minutes—or so she'd thought. She glanced over her shoulder at a small window with its timer: [Primary power bank maintenance duration: 1 hour and 13 minutes.]
Her eyes twitched. 'I've been at this that long? Damn.' She turned back forward. 'I guess... we can walk.'
As the words left her lips, her gaze settled on the main terminal—the display flanked by two monitors she'd been fixated on all this time. A sudden idea sparked in her mind. 'Oh... I wonder if I can just do it here—?'
Shuffling into position before the main monitor, she wrote: [Research Terminal. Dedicate 200 MW of power capacity to the device. Redirect power into the dedicated power capacity 20 MWh.]
Those were the plans she intended to implement with the power settings on the research terminal, or at least, she tried. But the setting—and everything about it—felt overwhelming in her mentally fatigued state. Though fascinating, there was a limit to how many technical details she could process. She lifted her fingers, watching her words sink into the display.
A relieved sigh escaped as the command registered, but lingering doubt prompted her to verify through the nexus protocol module. On the left, where she had left the listing of reports open, a new entry appeared: [Power Changes Report: Dedicated Power capacitor to Research Terminal and redirection of power || Req: ID-AC-A001 (Estelle Nytelles) || TechnicalAsI: Core-OS1]
She wanted to stop there—her patience had evaporated. Other discoveries awaited her, far more enticing than drowning in technical minutiae. But finishing touches compelled her to make one final check. Another rough sigh escaped as she opened the report window, revealing—predictably—another wall of text. Her eye twitched, but she pressed on.
[Task requested by Estelle Nytelles was completed with no technical issues.]
A smile crossed her face. “I can just do it here? Damn, I should have done that from the start then,” she murmured to herself. The following lines blurred together, her mind refusing to process more information. 'It is what it is.' She stepped back, voice dropping to a whisper as if to reassure her detail-oriented side that was fretting over the skipped technicalities. 'I'll return later... So… let’s go out—to the mortal realm.'
Drawing in a deep breath of cold air, she released it in a single exhale. 'Well then,' she declared, “Command—Transition Device Activate. And Transition to the main Trigon Sphere hall.”