programming me. Or trying to.
“Fascinating,” the doctor said. “Every time I make a gain, the dominant processes snatch back most of the ground I’ve taken.”
“Explain,” the memory me said.
“Your human personality programming is meant to be controlled by the Warden program, to be used purely as a cover and switched on or off at will, presumably so that you could blend in with humans. I’m trying to reverse that, so that the human routines are in charge, so you can be a person; one who can make use, at will, of the fantastic capabilities and advantages afforded to you by your – ”
“And how is it going?”
He didn’t answer, he just typed manically for a good half an hour, face set in an expression of pure determination. Ah, bless him, he was an ugly human specimen, but, even all screwed up with concentration his face looked a lot nicer than when it had just bounced down a cliff-side.
“Let’s give that a try,” he said eventually.
“Must destroy puny human,” I shouted, reaching for the doctor, whose face froze with an expression of terror. “Just kidding, Doc.”
So, I wasn’t funny back then either it seemed.
“Humour, eh?” said the doctor. “I’ll be sure to disable that. Now, I have to be careful, I think I can make you more man than machine. But, there’s good and bad in all of us, and, whilst they took you from an almost angelic human subject, if I’m not careful, I could overrun both sides of your, ahem, personality. I could leave you with nothing but your darkest thoughts, or accidentally turn you into the weak stand-up comedian you seem intent on becoming.” He gave a wry smile, and bashed away at the keyboard a bit more.
Well Doc , I thought, absorbing the new memory as it played out, looks like you settled for making me at least half a bastard. So, yeah, really good job. Well done.
“They?” I asked, back in the memory. “Who are they? What have you done with my relevant files?”
“Oh, my dear cyborg, I’m afraid I deleted all of that as soon as I got my hands on you. It’s just too ghastly, too terrible for words. I can’t risk you knowing what you’re meant to do. Not yet. Not until I’ve given you the ability to use your powers for good!”
In the memory, I snorted – I actually snorted at him – I’ve never snorted before, I’m sure of it. “Powers? I’ll use my ‘powers’ for me.”
“I’m failing...” said Doctor Melon weakly.
“No you’re not. I feel great. I like what you’ve done, but that’s as much meddling in my head as you’re going to do.”
“But you’re not ready. I’ve been working on you for months, and you’re just not ready. Both sides of your coding are incredibly complex – every facet of your human personality routines is linked to every other and linked again to elements of your core, Warden program. If I tweak one ‘emotion’, or ‘trait’ the wrong way it may just leave the Warden program with a raving lunatic human ‘cover’ personality. What I need, so you can master the Warden program and deny its directives, is for you to be, well, pure good.”
“Nothing’s pure Doc, we’re all stained one way or another.”
The doctor’s shoulders sagged, “You were close enough before they took you.”
“What do you mean?” my memory self said.
“I’m sorry. Later, I promise. When I’m sure I can control the Warden program.”
“Tell me now or I’ll beat it out of you.”
The doctor winced. “Not if you ever want to be more than somebody else’s tool you won’t. Besides, my first re-programming success with you was to install a little routine that will essentially delete your brain if you try to harm me, leaving you about as dangerous as a toaster.”
Oh, so that’s where I got the toaster thing from then . “Why don’t you just delete the Warden program?” my memory self said.
“Because then we’re back in toaster land, and with what we’ll be facing all too soon, we need at least one
“Fascinating,” the doctor said. “Every time I make a gain, the dominant processes snatch back most of the ground I’ve taken.”
“Explain,” the memory me said.
“Your human personality programming is meant to be controlled by the Warden program, to be used purely as a cover and switched on or off at will, presumably so that you could blend in with humans. I’m trying to reverse that, so that the human routines are in charge, so you can be a person; one who can make use, at will, of the fantastic capabilities and advantages afforded to you by your – ”
“And how is it going?”
He didn’t answer, he just typed manically for a good half an hour, face set in an expression of pure determination. Ah, bless him, he was an ugly human specimen, but, even all screwed up with concentration his face looked a lot nicer than when it had just bounced down a cliff-side.
“Let’s give that a try,” he said eventually.
“Must destroy puny human,” I shouted, reaching for the doctor, whose face froze with an expression of terror. “Just kidding, Doc.”
So, I wasn’t funny back then either it seemed.
“Humour, eh?” said the doctor. “I’ll be sure to disable that. Now, I have to be careful, I think I can make you more man than machine. But, there’s good and bad in all of us, and, whilst they took you from an almost angelic human subject, if I’m not careful, I could overrun both sides of your, ahem, personality. I could leave you with nothing but your darkest thoughts, or accidentally turn you into the weak stand-up comedian you seem intent on becoming.” He gave a wry smile, and bashed away at the keyboard a bit more.
Well Doc , I thought, absorbing the new memory as it played out, looks like you settled for making me at least half a bastard. So, yeah, really good job. Well done.
“They?” I asked, back in the memory. “Who are they? What have you done with my relevant files?”
“Oh, my dear cyborg, I’m afraid I deleted all of that as soon as I got my hands on you. It’s just too ghastly, too terrible for words. I can’t risk you knowing what you’re meant to do. Not yet. Not until I’ve given you the ability to use your powers for good!”
In the memory, I snorted – I actually snorted at him – I’ve never snorted before, I’m sure of it. “Powers? I’ll use my ‘powers’ for me.”
“I’m failing...” said Doctor Melon weakly.
“No you’re not. I feel great. I like what you’ve done, but that’s as much meddling in my head as you’re going to do.”
“But you’re not ready. I’ve been working on you for months, and you’re just not ready. Both sides of your coding are incredibly complex – every facet of your human personality routines is linked to every other and linked again to elements of your core, Warden program. If I tweak one ‘emotion’, or ‘trait’ the wrong way it may just leave the Warden program with a raving lunatic human ‘cover’ personality. What I need, so you can master the Warden program and deny its directives, is for you to be, well, pure good.”
“Nothing’s pure Doc, we’re all stained one way or another.”
The doctor’s shoulders sagged, “You were close enough before they took you.”
“What do you mean?” my memory self said.
“I’m sorry. Later, I promise. When I’m sure I can control the Warden program.”
“Tell me now or I’ll beat it out of you.”
The doctor winced. “Not if you ever want to be more than somebody else’s tool you won’t. Besides, my first re-programming success with you was to install a little routine that will essentially delete your brain if you try to harm me, leaving you about as dangerous as a toaster.”
Oh, so that’s where I got the toaster thing from then . “Why don’t you just delete the Warden program?” my memory self said.
“Because then we’re back in toaster land, and with what we’ll be facing all too soon, we need at least one
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