fragments.The paths linking these fragments could be rediscovered, but that would take time.
Stripped down to the barest kernel of its existence, the Other rapidly scanned the ship’s systems, seeking a processing unit of sufficient capability to accept it, a system that could be completely isolated from the rest of the computational network.
As it worked, the Other reflected grimly on the irony of the situation. Designed by superior beings, it had come into existence within the complex computational network that controlled the Altreian starship, one of the fleet’s newest and most advanced mechanical and computational entities. The Other knew the shipboard systems in a way no biological being could hope to. And yet the data that cascaded through the Other’s artificial mind funneled directly toward the probability that this would be the end of its days, its magnificent existence terminated by the primitive Mark mind. Inconceivable.
Suddenly a new disturbance grabbed its attention. The fourth headset had connected to a new host. As other parts of the ship’s computers automatically began establishing the required synaptic links to this new human mind, the Other scanned those connections. This mind was different. So open. An infant mind!
Feeling the roadblocks it had thrown up to cover its trail crumbling, the Other made its decision. Time to abandon ship. Thrusting its kernel through the nascent synaptic links, what remained of the Other rolled the dice and stepped across the boundary into the vast unknown of a human brain.
Janet spun, horrified by the sound of Robby’s scream. She froze, her mind momentarily refusing to accept the sight of the glistening headband attached across the front of her baby’s face, like a hatchling straight out of the movie Alien .
Recovering, she lunged toward Robby, hands outstretched to snatch the hateful thing from her baby’s head. Just before she reached him, she felt herself jerked back in arms far more powerful than even her adrenaline-fueled mother’s panic. Struggling mightily, she tried to kick herself free, only to find herself bound more tightly, her ineffective blows absorbed by her lover.
Jack’s urgent voice wormed its way into her brain. “Janet, stop! We can’t remove the band. Not before the link is finished.”
“It’s killing him!”
“No, but we might. If we remove it before it finishes the link, it might kill Robby or leave him brain damaged.”
Janet stopped struggling, sinking to her knees in Jack’s arms, sobs bubbling to her lips from the darkness deep within her soul. She looked at her baby, the scream frozen on his now silent lips, face contorted in agony.
She struggled to speak. “But it’s changing him,”
Jack pressed his forehead to hers. “Yes. Probably in the same way it changed Mark, Jennifer, and Heather. They turned out all right.”
“But he’s only a baby.”
Then she breathed the thought they both dreaded. “And it’s the Rag Man headset. El Chupacabra’s headset.”
“Trust me. This’ll be different.”
For the first time since she’d known him, as Jack held her quivering body against his, Janet didn’t believe him.
Heather swam in a beautiful fractal sea of data, so fascinated by her and Jennifer’s ongoing discoveries that she almost failed to notice the change in their joint link. A new presence had joined them, its thoughts unlike any she had previously felt. The thoughts were mainly feelings. Confusion. Terror.
Turning her attention to this new link, sudden understanding engulfed her, leaving a new puzzle in its wake.
The ship’s computer had linked to little Robby. But how? Had Jack or Janet placed a headset on their own baby? Heather immediately discarded the thought, even before her mind returned the 0.000397 percent probability.
Suddenly an even more urgent awareness nudged her. She could barely feel Mark’s link. A new vision filled her with dread.
Jen! Break your link now. Mark’s
Stripped down to the barest kernel of its existence, the Other rapidly scanned the ship’s systems, seeking a processing unit of sufficient capability to accept it, a system that could be completely isolated from the rest of the computational network.
As it worked, the Other reflected grimly on the irony of the situation. Designed by superior beings, it had come into existence within the complex computational network that controlled the Altreian starship, one of the fleet’s newest and most advanced mechanical and computational entities. The Other knew the shipboard systems in a way no biological being could hope to. And yet the data that cascaded through the Other’s artificial mind funneled directly toward the probability that this would be the end of its days, its magnificent existence terminated by the primitive Mark mind. Inconceivable.
Suddenly a new disturbance grabbed its attention. The fourth headset had connected to a new host. As other parts of the ship’s computers automatically began establishing the required synaptic links to this new human mind, the Other scanned those connections. This mind was different. So open. An infant mind!
Feeling the roadblocks it had thrown up to cover its trail crumbling, the Other made its decision. Time to abandon ship. Thrusting its kernel through the nascent synaptic links, what remained of the Other rolled the dice and stepped across the boundary into the vast unknown of a human brain.
Janet spun, horrified by the sound of Robby’s scream. She froze, her mind momentarily refusing to accept the sight of the glistening headband attached across the front of her baby’s face, like a hatchling straight out of the movie Alien .
Recovering, she lunged toward Robby, hands outstretched to snatch the hateful thing from her baby’s head. Just before she reached him, she felt herself jerked back in arms far more powerful than even her adrenaline-fueled mother’s panic. Struggling mightily, she tried to kick herself free, only to find herself bound more tightly, her ineffective blows absorbed by her lover.
Jack’s urgent voice wormed its way into her brain. “Janet, stop! We can’t remove the band. Not before the link is finished.”
“It’s killing him!”
“No, but we might. If we remove it before it finishes the link, it might kill Robby or leave him brain damaged.”
Janet stopped struggling, sinking to her knees in Jack’s arms, sobs bubbling to her lips from the darkness deep within her soul. She looked at her baby, the scream frozen on his now silent lips, face contorted in agony.
She struggled to speak. “But it’s changing him,”
Jack pressed his forehead to hers. “Yes. Probably in the same way it changed Mark, Jennifer, and Heather. They turned out all right.”
“But he’s only a baby.”
Then she breathed the thought they both dreaded. “And it’s the Rag Man headset. El Chupacabra’s headset.”
“Trust me. This’ll be different.”
For the first time since she’d known him, as Jack held her quivering body against his, Janet didn’t believe him.
Heather swam in a beautiful fractal sea of data, so fascinated by her and Jennifer’s ongoing discoveries that she almost failed to notice the change in their joint link. A new presence had joined them, its thoughts unlike any she had previously felt. The thoughts were mainly feelings. Confusion. Terror.
Turning her attention to this new link, sudden understanding engulfed her, leaving a new puzzle in its wake.
The ship’s computer had linked to little Robby. But how? Had Jack or Janet placed a headset on their own baby? Heather immediately discarded the thought, even before her mind returned the 0.000397 percent probability.
Suddenly an even more urgent awareness nudged her. She could barely feel Mark’s link. A new vision filled her with dread.
Jen! Break your link now. Mark’s