With a flash of recusant spins, the dance floor lightened in an ecstatic array of flesh. The music was pumping, the flavor was flying, the switch-billy two step cross-hatch fakey chucky-boo boo's synthesized together before you could realize:
"Boy oh boy, do I feel alive!"
Wyloo's muscles glistened as his body finished the small spectacle, and instantly his eyes were drawn to his female onlookers. One was a blonde, hair curled up into a mock bun, pointing upwards. It was a new style, not too eccentric, and wowee did it liven up her face. The dance-clothes she sported also had a trend of upwards;
always up, keep you looking up, the V neck looked twisted upside down and it's true, his eyes naturally moved to those two sparkling blue beads of hers.She was surrounded by what looked to be her friends, a brunette with dark mascara and longer hair, and another girl, a little younger (or at least shorter) with the same hair cut but dyed pink. Not needing to build up courage, Wyloo sauntered over to greet himself,
"Hey there, baby girl. How you--" Her finger pressed against his lip, and she forced an object into his hand.
It was a small, oblong pill. The man took a step back and looked at her cross, "What's this?"
"It's some mesophane. Go ahead and try it."
But to Wyloo, messages of consternation wound in his brain. A drug? Why would he need a foreign substance to elicit an experience he'd never remember? He tried handing it back, "Nah, I'm no guinea pig."
She didn't even pretend to accept his refusal, "We're on it. Everyone knows it's safe.
Come on . . ." She raised an eyebrow, and her being shorter than him, let her eyes wide open in a sort of enchanting gesture.
With the burst of peer pressure, Wyloo instantly regretted his decision as the pill made its way down his esophagus.
The lights beamed on.
Anweeb grinned at the to-be head pilot of the Dreadnaught, "And wa-la, the ship has more than enough power. Sure, it needs some fixings here and there, but atleast we covered those gaps in the hull and restabalized the system."
Looking around in a cursory, non-engaged fashion, Najir placed his finger on his chin. “I like it. Yeah, this’ll do just fine. You know, it’s amazing what you hackers can do.”
Grinning, she just shrugged, “It was a challenge, but hey, that’s all I’m after. Besides, I couldn’t do it alone. All those engineers patched the holes up and re-wired the mainframe. It was just us who made sure the program let you in.”
“Well, the crew and I will do our best to make sure none of this was for nothing. We’ve got people from all around who’ve been studying this up, and it’s going to be great to get a chance to take her for a spin sometime.”
“Alright, and this one isn’t programmed to destabilize at key words. It’s not a training machine, it’s the real thing. Lets see how the AI can process the information.”
Jayman, a Mind Blender in the making, was in an interrogation room with a robot head. To him, it was just another training session. Already his throat was still sore. He looked at the mirror, which was essentially a window, and the light beamed green.
The engineer and the psychotherapist almost ducked in cover. The sound proof walls protected them and they had no way of reading his lips. It wasn’t long until the done button was pushed. Smoke fumed out from the room and the two men got up to give Jayman a congratulatory—and then he puked all over the floor.
It was too much for him.
He couldn’t handle it.
Tanks rolled through the subway system. Iwekitat sprinted down the stairs but he could feel sensations of shell shock emulating through his skull; a compression of screaming shrapnel infinitely winding in penetrating fervor.
“This is unit five at coordinate five, zero, sigma foxtrot; I need some air support”
Before he could hear “Roger”, an emasculating explosion rippled behind him.
The hero popped up from his chair and tore off the visual simulation helmet.
“Sorry doc. I didn’t do too well that time.”
“That’s alright Iwe, just get some sleep, we’ll try again tommorow.”
“Actually, if we just let the interfacing paradigms align. . .
and there we go! We’re one step closer to finding this thing out!”
“Now, you see, that’s why musical culture comes to a sort of duality. Lets look at example A and B, shall we?”
Kimeyo pulled his gears into full throttle. “Alright team, lets do this thing.”
And off into the deprivation of space did they travel.