Debian Orphanage - Chapter 4

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ChapterFour
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The lab was acting at full pelt in the work stakes. The money from the government agency Red Hat prescribed a certain financial demeanour for all staff, not only in the selfish act of fashion but in the act of progression for themselves.

“We certainly need more staff!” Callum announced.

She was literally rushed off her feet, the statistics and project range was getting beneath them all. Only six months into the new route and they had produced five children from the Cystic Replicator, all defects. They were housed in the nursery and on times only had themselves to talk to.

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Over the years...

The circular motion of the Petri dish housed the significant other, of genetic experiments.

The cell split into two then four.
An applied current of electricity was cross over the board and cell sprung to further life.

Sinclair introduced the engineered cell into the mix. Further shocks merged all the cells in a bundle. Hormones and lotions fed into the mix in feeding the cell.

But with every trial and error operation in came to fruition the error of trial. Every specimen was a failure.

“Another...” Arch sighed.

“How much blood will I have to spill for this process?” Sinclair groaned.

The needle struck a slight phobia protocol to the mix.

As the years pass...
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Arch and Sinclair bolted past. “We need no more staff! Our ideas and ethics have been exposed no end.” Arch shouted.

“And the only tricks we have left are the weapon protocol!” Sinclair barked.

“But these statistics!!?!!?” She stamped, spilling the pile of paper in her hand to the floor.

It was met with a cold silence until they were out of sight.

“Just go and visit the children!” they both barked.

“A nanny I am not!” But she felt so sorry for them, the little ones, a small visit would hurt no one she supposed.

Her legs at scurrying point up the stairs to the crèche.

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“Mother?”

The diminutive voice bared eyes and stared from behind the veil surrounding his bed.

He so ached to lift his head just once to see who actually was there. The veil acted like a mosquito net that purged any airborne bugs and viruses.

“Yes, its mother, Debian.” Callum replied. As she walked the bubbles burst, the light became apparent and her face lit up.

Debian was the first to come from the birthing pool, and Callum’s favourite. She had all the time in the world for him when she could make the time.

They had all been grown from Sinclair’s own DNA and were the spitting image of him, even down to their use of words and mannerisms.

“Does it stir something in you to see us like this?” Debian enquired.

Callum pulled back the veil over his bed and hooked it into a latch on the wall.

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Callum spoke now to Debian’s eyes only.

The body was too disfigured to be anything but human. Debian bore a head, neck, shoulders but from there down was nothing more than a small fleshy pouch that held the heart and a few strands of intestine, which food accumulation had caused to brown slightly. Any other circulatory system was machine orientated. Any renal qualities had been evaporated.

“It means that maybe you take larger gaps between visits.” He sighed.

Callum understood the complexity of this, here was one of the most intelligently engineered humans on the planet, a child whose brain capacity overtook all of ours and he was disabled. Latched to this bed like a prisoner, waiting for what? Arch and Sinclair had no time to create a lower torso and from their angle ‘it’ was just a casualty of science.

Arch admitted that he felt nothing for the children and Sinclair only said they would be remembered through the minutes and that they may succumb to statue like nature for future generations…but it seemed for naught.

“The others have not stirred for hours on end.”

Debian referred to Linux, Freespire and Unix.

The other children, who lay in various states of disability, behind the white veils, in this peach coloured room had nothing to say.

The low lighting of the room gave the impression of memorial, of funeral parlours across the western states whose only intention is to make you calm and relaxed for registering death.

“They won’t wake for years yet Debian.” Callum muttered, she knew the reason for their constant drowsy state was due to the perfection of the brain, it seemed to suck the physical side of the embryo every time. Arch and Sinclair had perfected the brain but not the body. Before she had finished her sentence Debian was in slumber.

Callum began to sob, the realisation of these children’s death was hitting home and she just didn’t know how much she could take.
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The office was peppered with the decorative stances of medical science. There were holograms of skulls, foetuses, the veins of children’s legs displayed in accurate detail.

Callum sat at the desk with stabilisers at full pelt, her mind was calm through substance. She feared the medical representatives news greatly...

“You can’t have children Ms Callum.”

“Not ever?”

“There is a chance...but what with the policy of the IVF and Implant surgeries at this present moment in time...they do require couples to apply.”

“This seems like total nonsense...what about my wage? My social standing in life? My career and the fact I have a position as a Government Primer?”

“Again it comes down to your social standing regarding a partner.”

“Preposterous!”

“As your Medical Adviser there are times I have to break these little things to you.”

“I want to have a baby.”

“I can prescribe various protocols for a happiness sustain or random memory insertion?”

“I have this need in my stomach for a child!”

“I can offer you the prescription and that is all.”

“...That is all.......” she mocked.

The door slid open by the sensors edge being breached but was slammed shut at the fingertips of Callum...
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“We have something!”

Callum recognised the voice over the Earpiece Tannoy; it took the pleasure of reverb across the cochlea. She had just left the children’s crèche and was scaling the walls of the lab to arrive at the Medi-Centre.

“After what I have just seen, give me good news.” She barked as she burst through the doors of the lab.

Arch and Sinclair stood at the mouth of the machine. It stood at around three foot and was merely a black square, shining in the distance. At its centre was a basin like effect, filled with a bubbling liquid. But not your normal water effect. This was thick and gelatinous and slimy to the touch.

“The structure is static, holding and fantastic.” Arch remarked.

“Oh? Have we maimed another one?” Callum flounced.

“No disability or death today Callum. Arch applied a Cognitive Hormone to the embryonic mix. Same thing they use in the structure of polymers. It has made the embryo malleable to everything. Touch. Pressure. Force. This will be perfect for space travel. We fashioned the epidermis down to its core using a photon absorbing molecule emulator, this has carved a heat sink of sorts that will dissipate the cosmic heat signatures present in space.” Sinclair explained.

“And what of the gravity of this planet? Will it not crush it?”

“Not at all. We have applied a chip to the Spinal Board that sends signals to the brain to tense the muscles under extreme conditions. So although malleable, malleable to an extent and a controlled ability.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Callum sarcastically reamed.

“Can you not see how close we are?”

“We’re not as close as we were.”

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The baby was completed a month later and will further application of the hormone somatotropin, boosted its growth so it had the same stature as a two year old when it was born.

Callum stood at the crib in the crèche and picked up the baby from its wet conundrum. Cold, lifeless but wide eyed. Blue, blue eyes, that pierced but registered nothing. She placed the baby back in the pool and it caused bubbles to congregate around its torso.

“Have you named him yet?” Callum said low.

“No. Arch prefers not to name them for fear of attachment, commitment, etc.”

“I have named the others...I want to name this one.”

“I will put this down to your feminine side and don’t get me wrong I feel it too. Fine name him, but don’t let Arch catch you referring to them this way.”

“I want this one to be called Fedora.”

“Fedora it is.”

The child still hung lifeless in her arms.

“Will he be as badly disabled as the others?”

“This one is perfect Callum. This one is the future of the project.”

“We will have to cover the what, where and why of it at a later date. We could maybe tomorrow. I’m feeling so much better that this one is going to be ok.”

“Internally I am sighing reliefs also.”

“How do you cut off so much and so well Sinclair?”

“Its something to do with self control. Wants, needs and hope are so drained from my core, I don’t know what could possibly bring the feelings back.”

And with that she placed the child gently back in the basin for the many operations that will follow.

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The application of the hardware was the most difficult and heart wrenching process.

“How long does he have to remain out of the liquid?” Callum stared at the wall making no eye contact.

Fedora hung there like the second coming with various parts of his anatomy sliced open, gaping for technology. Two hooks through his hands held him fast. He felt nothing.

“As long as it takes, Callum.” Arch added.

“We will initiate the splicing as soon as possible.”

With that Arch flicked a switch and the machine sprung to life, sliding blocks of ATX circuitry hardware into the child’s brain area
The spinal motherboard was twisted and locked into place. The legs had the stiff, segment like, tubes rammed down their length. Same process with the arms.

Fedora twisted like a lifeless toy, merely a lump of boneless fat.

There were no bones to speak of or see and for a second the life behind the eyes flicked open.

Only to be dragged down by the manhandling he received from the nature of the jigsaw puzzle solver.
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The coming months follow and pass like the sailing aims of prying eyes. The lab had suffered many break-ins and theft of data or hardware.

The children in the crèche had been disturbed one night by Candid Lense men. Suddenly every other country in the world had a plan to get to Titan, each country had its one humanoid subject volunteer and each were almost ready for their own launch.

It was driving Arch mad that his ideas and hard work was being pilfered and passed off as another’s work.

“I was against the open sourcing of the project from the start!” Sinclair raged.

“There were certain aspects that had to be revealed for us to continue! Especially the genetic mod side of it all.” Arch defended his decision.

“We could have just referred to the test documentation at hand and readily available through the network arenas.”

“But we needed fresh testing of the particles attitude in other environments. And beside the network arena is not as reliable as we had once hoped. Most information is biased and...and...”

“We will have to work faster now...when it comes to continental challenges I am starting to fear for all our lives...”

“It’s from loss that we evolve.”

“There’s a part of me that is glad for the holiday...”

“And it’s that loss that will evolve me the most.”

The lab was soon deserted and set up elsewhere, at first a mobile unit that ploughed through the streets constantly. Unattainable, unreachable and secluded.

It was then situated in the roof space of a tower block that housed department stores and product placement programs.

Fedora lay in his bed with the random amount of tubes extended from every arm, pore and orifice. Each tube has its function, some push hormones into the body to excel growth, others remove impurities. Some are Constant Test Symbiotics that conduct small theories on the hardware and come out with logical statistics for use.

“All joints within the body have been replaced with a Gelatinous Bio-Mould that when hit freezing or boiling point retain their hold and layer making them sturdy in any condition.” Sinclair quipped.

“Originally used by climbers of mountain ranges, for separating the clothing from the skin. Marvellous really.” Arch added.

“And on top of that an excellent conductor. With the added sprinkling of silicon enhancers for the communication protocol with the Spinal Motherboard. Any change in temperature can be recorded.”

Callum entered the room and placed a Finger Top user on the lab table.

“Fedora doesn’t actually need sustenance as such, just maintenance.”

“He’s just a little boy…”

“I know how you feel about this Callum. But there truly is nothing to worry about, Fedora will be self serving, everything in the body will get recycled as such. The cosmic rays of the sun, transferred through the Renal Solar Mapping will cook, so to speak, certain proteins and convert them back and fore to supply the body with a healthy, steady output.”

“And the electrical overcharge?”

“Supported by capacitators, in fact the electrical side of it acts as the propulsion through space, various spark plug contraptions work on a miniature scale, tiny electrical vibrations will push Fedora Through space.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, a Wave interpretation unit for internal communication with the Spinal Motherboard. Solar Charger and capacitator unit for the UPS Gradual Hibernation and finally…me…in the cockpit.”

“As cold as you are I worry about the outcome.”

“The outcome will be what it will be, the Fedora Unit is probably eternal in its intent.”

“You really want to live forever?”

“To see the new world and beyond, yes.”

“Seeing what we have done to those children in the crèche I am weighed down with guilt.”

“In science there can be no guilt you know that. You have compromises to the emotion and workable targets and that’s it. Anything else is worthy of the cause.”

“The cause isn’t worthy of me.”