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"mtf possession"
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Chapter 1 in Never Going to Give You Up
Peter Parker & Mary-Jane - The Amazing Spider-Man & Venomess - Issue 1: Symbiote Seduction in Spider-Man & MJ's Transformations Continuity Stories
by
ninhjimmy007
· 27 Sep 2025
A different kind continunity story of Spider-man + What if Mary-Jane becomes She-Venom
1.4K
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Peter Parker Spider-Man & Mary-Jane in Spider-Man & MJ's Transformations Continuity Stories
by
ninhjimmy007
· 27 Sep 2025
In this intro, Peter Parker and Mary Jane will tell you about their superhero life and transformation
1.1K
1
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Overlaid in Overlaid
by
Kripto
· 24 Sep 2025
Calyope is a bisexual witch who has settled down with a normal guy. But when she discovers a magical rune of transformation, she thinks she might have discovered a way to have the best of both worlds. She just has to convince her husband to let her transform him first.
8.0K
2
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Chapter 3 in Spooky Island Adventures
by
AziAzi
· 17 Sep 2025
Switching over to Trisha's POV, she's already been taken by the demons. With her body now under their possession, you and your friends step closer to danger, now that you have a wolf in sheep's clothing within your group...
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New Adventures
Inspired by the Mr Suits story, but this time you can choose your own path!
A little green alien needs your help to survive earth, but also needs to possess someone you know!
[Detailed Description]
Johnny Watson was just like any other 19-year-old teenager but one day, during a night of restless sleep he makes a discovery that changes his life forever. In his back garden he discovers an alien who’d crash landed on earth having ejected from his wrecked ship. When it turns out the alien is friendly Johnny vows to help him find his ship but the first port of call for Squawg is to find a new body to hide in and for Johnny that means watching somebody he knows getting possessed by the little space man.
Who he possesses and what happens next is up to you? Will they ever find the aliens ship? Or is Squawg destined to spend the rest of his life on earth wearing the bodies of the people around him?
CHARACTERS
[Characters]
Squawg: An alien from outer space. Comes from a highly intelligent race of aliens but is a little but its safe to say he isn’t too smart. He knows little about earth and his curiosity to learn more about the planet that he has crash landed on is constantly getting him into trouble much to the annoyance of Johnny. He looks like a typical mainstream alien, 4-foot-tall, green in color with a big oval shaped head and skinny gangly limbs.
You (Johnny Watson): You’re a slightly below average 19 year-old boy. You have a nice way about you but can be mischievous at times. Due to your poor athleticism and average looks you get picked on by those looking for someone to torment, mainly Alfie. Your best friend is Tom who you share your passions for Fortnite, and big breasted women. You’re on the shorter and pudgier side and have short brown hair which you sweep over to the side and blue piercing eyes. You’re into all that supernatural and sci-fi stuff which is why when Squawg lands in your garden you’re more curious than scared.
Sally Watson: Your 43-year-old mother. Works as the nurse at your high school but is forbidden from helping you at school. She is a kind lady however she can be stern when she wants to be. Lucky for you she’s only mildly attractive so the boys at school don’t wind you up about her. She is relatively short, has dark brown shoulder length hair and greeny-blue eyes. Maybe it was because you’d never looked at her in a sexual way or perhaps it was because she was exceptionally good at covering them up but unbeknownst to you and your friends your mom was absolutely stacked.
Matt Watson: Your 45-year-old dad. A tall, burly man standing at about 6ft 4in, unfortunately none of his size had been passed on to you. He was usually quite busy at work, though he earned his own business so got to decide when he wanted to work, which at the moment seemed like all the time. He was very strict with you, always forcing you to work harder, you knew he just wanted the best from you but it really did anger you.
Georgina Watson: Your 28 year-old sister. Can really wind you up at times though you generally get along well with her. She attends a local college to study acting having left your school just last year. She stands at 6ft having inherited your dad’s height has long brown hair and dark green eyes. She has a curvaceous body and hanging from her chest she has two large breasts which she, much like your mom, doesn’t like to show off.
Tom Daniels: Your best friend. He was 19 but for his age was, unlike you, reasonably well built being 6ft tall and having some relatively large muscles. He played in the soccer team and was accepted by the ‘cool’ kids though he preferred hanging around with you. You’d been friends with him since year 2 and share a lot of the same interests. He has medium length light blonde hair which he leaves unkempt not seeming to care much what other people thought about how he looked, which amplified his modesty seeing as he was still a pretty good-looking guy, having a fair few girls who had crushes on him over the years. He lives right next door to you.
Mrs. Norris
32
Single neighbor milf next door, her body has changed to much more curvy with time. She is aware of how her appearance affects others, and gets a thrill from showing off her looks. Very kind, however also has a perverted streak and harbors fantasies of being a submissive (may make a willing host)
SETTING & WORLD
Middle sized town where you Johnny knows most people in his area. Upper middle class neighborhood, with some nearby woods.
A little green alien needs your help to survive earth, but also needs to possess someone you know!
[Detailed Description]
Johnny Watson was just like any other 19-year-old teenager but one day, during a night of restless sleep he makes a discovery that changes his life forever. In his back garden he discovers an alien who’d crash landed on earth having ejected from his wrecked ship. When it turns out the alien is friendly Johnny vows to help him find his ship but the first port of call for Squawg is to find a new body to hide in and for Johnny that means watching somebody he knows getting possessed by the little space man.
Who he possesses and what happens next is up to you? Will they ever find the aliens ship? Or is Squawg destined to spend the rest of his life on earth wearing the bodies of the people around him?
CHARACTERS
[Characters]
Squawg: An alien from outer space. Comes from a highly intelligent race of aliens but is a little but its safe to say he isn’t too smart. He knows little about earth and his curiosity to learn more about the planet that he has crash landed on is constantly getting him into trouble much to the annoyance of Johnny. He looks like a typical mainstream alien, 4-foot-tall, green in color with a big oval shaped head and skinny gangly limbs.
You (Johnny Watson): You’re a slightly below average 19 year-old boy. You have a nice way about you but can be mischievous at times. Due to your poor athleticism and average looks you get picked on by those looking for someone to torment, mainly Alfie. Your best friend is Tom who you share your passions for Fortnite, and big breasted women. You’re on the shorter and pudgier side and have short brown hair which you sweep over to the side and blue piercing eyes. You’re into all that supernatural and sci-fi stuff which is why when Squawg lands in your garden you’re more curious than scared.
Sally Watson: Your 43-year-old mother. Works as the nurse at your high school but is forbidden from helping you at school. She is a kind lady however she can be stern when she wants to be. Lucky for you she’s only mildly attractive so the boys at school don’t wind you up about her. She is relatively short, has dark brown shoulder length hair and greeny-blue eyes. Maybe it was because you’d never looked at her in a sexual way or perhaps it was because she was exceptionally good at covering them up but unbeknownst to you and your friends your mom was absolutely stacked.
Matt Watson: Your 45-year-old dad. A tall, burly man standing at about 6ft 4in, unfortunately none of his size had been passed on to you. He was usually quite busy at work, though he earned his own business so got to decide when he wanted to work, which at the moment seemed like all the time. He was very strict with you, always forcing you to work harder, you knew he just wanted the best from you but it really did anger you.
Georgina Watson: Your 28 year-old sister. Can really wind you up at times though you generally get along well with her. She attends a local college to study acting having left your school just last year. She stands at 6ft having inherited your dad’s height has long brown hair and dark green eyes. She has a curvaceous body and hanging from her chest she has two large breasts which she, much like your mom, doesn’t like to show off.
Tom Daniels: Your best friend. He was 19 but for his age was, unlike you, reasonably well built being 6ft tall and having some relatively large muscles. He played in the soccer team and was accepted by the ‘cool’ kids though he preferred hanging around with you. You’d been friends with him since year 2 and share a lot of the same interests. He has medium length light blonde hair which he leaves unkempt not seeming to care much what other people thought about how he looked, which amplified his modesty seeing as he was still a pretty good-looking guy, having a fair few girls who had crushes on him over the years. He lives right next door to you.
Mrs. Norris
32
Single neighbor milf next door, her body has changed to much more curvy with time. She is aware of how her appearance affects others, and gets a thrill from showing off her looks. Very kind, however also has a perverted streak and harbors fantasies of being a submissive (may make a willing host)
SETTING & WORLD
Middle sized town where you Johnny knows most people in his area. Upper middle class neighborhood, with some nearby woods.
856
3
0
This adventure is about you and your girlfriend who use the spell to transform your girlfriend into a MILF.
CHARACTERS
You - The Protagonist of the story who use the MILF spell on your girlfriend to transforms her into your MILF fantasy
Your Girlfriend
SETTING & WORLD
Your house at a simple nice neighborhood.
CHARACTERS
You - The Protagonist of the story who use the MILF spell on your girlfriend to transforms her into your MILF fantasy
Your Girlfriend
SETTING & WORLD
Your house at a simple nice neighborhood.
While you’re in your room, a strange noise suddenly comes from the living room.
You get up to check it out, and before you know it, you’re wrapped up in a mess of problems. Just like that, your whole day takes a wild turn.
Characters:
You
Just… you. Pretty normal, nothing special.
Tim (your friend)
He looks like a regular guy, but he’s really short and way too into hugs and piggyback rides. Seriously, way too much.
Allison (your sister’s friend)
Super smart, kind of a mad scientist type. Honestly, she might be taking the “genius” role a little too seriously.
Elena (your “bully”)
She’s not exactly bullying you, but she’s definitely meaner than she needs to be. Her left eye it's icy blue, the right it's deeply red and her skin’s pale, I sometimes wonder if she’s anemic.
Mary (your sister)
She’s obsessed with cosplay. Right now she’s dressed as Megumin, and I keep telling myself it’s just a phase. Like that time I caught her kissing Tessa—she disappeared for days after that, too embarrassed to face me. She pretends it never happened, says I’m imagining things… but I know what I saw.
Emily (just Emily)
Red hair, bright green eyes—really striking. She’s bossy, bratty, and loves teasing me. But she never pushes too far, probably because Mary steps in like she’s her older sister… or maybe something else. Oh, and she hates Angel, for reasons I can’t figure out.
Tessa (your neighbor)
Sweet girl, but oddly obsessed with kissing. I swear I once saw her making out with Mary, but Mary insists she doesn’t remember anything. Weird, right?
Angel (just Angel)
She’s… angelic. Like, literally glows with this serene aura. Maybe she was a saint in another life? All I know is she really doesn’t like Emily, and I have no idea why.
John (your classmate)
Classic nerd. Also, the laziest guy alive. I’ve caught him asleep more times than I can count.
Lilith (the transfer student)
Just moved here from far away. Super friendly, really athletic, but sometimes she moves like she doesn’t even have bones. She calls herself “the queen” when she’s around her friends—no clue if that’s a joke or not.
Rachel (Mary’s classmate)
Creepy and mysterious. Always in black, always with a hood up. I’m pretty sure she likes snakes—I swear I heard her hissing once.
Elle (the yoga instructor)
Flexible to the point of being terrifying. She can twist into poses I didn’t even know were humanly possible.
Hilary (the jogger)
Energizer bunny in human form. I see her running for hours without stopping.
Hasty (the housekeeper)
She used to work for some noble family, but now she’s out of a job. Still wears her maid outfit all the time, though, probably hoping someone hires her again.
You get up to check it out, and before you know it, you’re wrapped up in a mess of problems. Just like that, your whole day takes a wild turn.
Characters:
You
Just… you. Pretty normal, nothing special.
Tim (your friend)
He looks like a regular guy, but he’s really short and way too into hugs and piggyback rides. Seriously, way too much.
Allison (your sister’s friend)
Super smart, kind of a mad scientist type. Honestly, she might be taking the “genius” role a little too seriously.
Elena (your “bully”)
She’s not exactly bullying you, but she’s definitely meaner than she needs to be. Her left eye it's icy blue, the right it's deeply red and her skin’s pale, I sometimes wonder if she’s anemic.
Mary (your sister)
She’s obsessed with cosplay. Right now she’s dressed as Megumin, and I keep telling myself it’s just a phase. Like that time I caught her kissing Tessa—she disappeared for days after that, too embarrassed to face me. She pretends it never happened, says I’m imagining things… but I know what I saw.
Emily (just Emily)
Red hair, bright green eyes—really striking. She’s bossy, bratty, and loves teasing me. But she never pushes too far, probably because Mary steps in like she’s her older sister… or maybe something else. Oh, and she hates Angel, for reasons I can’t figure out.
Tessa (your neighbor)
Sweet girl, but oddly obsessed with kissing. I swear I once saw her making out with Mary, but Mary insists she doesn’t remember anything. Weird, right?
Angel (just Angel)
She’s… angelic. Like, literally glows with this serene aura. Maybe she was a saint in another life? All I know is she really doesn’t like Emily, and I have no idea why.
John (your classmate)
Classic nerd. Also, the laziest guy alive. I’ve caught him asleep more times than I can count.
Lilith (the transfer student)
Just moved here from far away. Super friendly, really athletic, but sometimes she moves like she doesn’t even have bones. She calls herself “the queen” when she’s around her friends—no clue if that’s a joke or not.
Rachel (Mary’s classmate)
Creepy and mysterious. Always in black, always with a hood up. I’m pretty sure she likes snakes—I swear I heard her hissing once.
Elle (the yoga instructor)
Flexible to the point of being terrifying. She can twist into poses I didn’t even know were humanly possible.
Hilary (the jogger)
Energizer bunny in human form. I see her running for hours without stopping.
Hasty (the housekeeper)
She used to work for some noble family, but now she’s out of a job. Still wears her maid outfit all the time, though, probably hoping someone hires her again.
108
1
0
A mad scientist tricks a young couple into becoming a pair of mindless sexdolls under his control
CHARACTERS
Katie- a buxom Latina in her mid 20’s. Outwardly shy and polite but an adventurous lover. She is a double d cup and has a large ass. Dreams of becoming a model.
Nito- Katie’s boyfriend. Slim but musclar with buzzed hair. His cock is large and he knows how to please Katie. He is supportive of Katie’s dreams of becoming a model
Dr. Geppetto- middle age German scientist who uses his knowledge of nanotechnology to convert people into mindless remote controlled dolls. He will act as a different perfesion to get his goal, not afraid of using trickery.
SETTING & WORLD
Modern day Florida
CHARACTERS
Katie- a buxom Latina in her mid 20’s. Outwardly shy and polite but an adventurous lover. She is a double d cup and has a large ass. Dreams of becoming a model.
Nito- Katie’s boyfriend. Slim but musclar with buzzed hair. His cock is large and he knows how to please Katie. He is supportive of Katie’s dreams of becoming a model
Dr. Geppetto- middle age German scientist who uses his knowledge of nanotechnology to convert people into mindless remote controlled dolls. He will act as a different perfesion to get his goal, not afraid of using trickery.
SETTING & WORLD
Modern day Florida
600
3
0
Yorg is an alien slug from another solar system. He was sent here on a routine survey mission to observe Earth and the human race. However, his ship malfunctioned and crashed onto the planet before he could finish his survey. In order to survive on Earth, Yorg relied on his possession abilities to control human hosts in hopes to wait for rescue. He enters a female human body through their pussy or ass, which is made easier by the pheromones he produces, making any human in the area so horny they can’t put together thoughts. When he realizes that rescue would never come. He decides to make Earth his new home and starts a colony here by copying himself. He spread himself into a couple of girls before transferring himself into a sorority member on spring break, Alice. Now he’s back at the sorority slowing converting its members into his colony.
CHARACTERS
Yorg- foot long purple alien slug who uses his ability to enter and control bodies to spread into new bodies
SETTING & WORLD
Current day college
CHARACTERS
Yorg- foot long purple alien slug who uses his ability to enter and control bodies to spread into new bodies
SETTING & WORLD
Current day college
410
1
0
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I try not to think of myself as the bad guy. Yes, I found myself involved in the development of mind-control technology, but I did my best to protect the world from the worst of it. After that, things just kind of happened on their own.
At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
In hindsight, I don’t see how things could have turned out any other way. I’m not saying that as an excuse for any of the things I did or as if it makes them any less bad, but having taken the first step, things just kind of kept happening.
It started at work. I won’t say where.
We were testing methods of remote information transmission that didn’t rely on explicit outputs or inputs. Basically communication that bypassed the barriers outlined in models like Berlo’s SMCR: Instead of relying on language to convey meaning, our aim was to find a way to convey meaning itself directly from one mind to at least one other.
Again, with the benefit of hindsight, the implications were obvious, but we weren’t concerned with whether we should, we just wanted to see if we could. Classic hubris of the scientifically minded.
And it turns out we can. Or more specifically, I can. I’ve made sure all traces of the research material has been scrubbed from any database; every hard drive degaussed, every memory stick smashed into tiny pieces, every document shredded and the whole lot set on fire just to be safe. The technology is too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
Yes, like mine. It turns out my hands are also the wrong hands, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought if I just kept the research to myself and studied it in secret, I could find a way to use it to make the world a better place. I guess I can still do that. Maybe it will make up for the bad that I’ve done, which on reflection isn’t even that bad.
Sure, I accidentally corrupted the free will of a fellow human being and inadvertently turned them into my loyal assistant and sex slave, but they’re happy. I know they’re happy, because in a lot of ways, they’re also me.
That helps, right?
*
Everyone was very excited. It was something worth being excited about. Transmission was old tech and measuring changes in brain waves was old tech, but reliably translating knowledge as it was being recalled into data, then being able to implant that data into another mind was a big fucking deal.
Other departments in other labs were specialising in mechanical transmission - robotics and cybernetics, for replacement or auxiliary limbs or remote work in hazardous environments. Useful stuff, but not nearly as delicate as what we were trying to achieve. They were trying to transmit a signal to a robot hand to gently hold an egg: We were trying to pull a single thought out of one mind and stitch it seamlessly into another.
Our first major breakthrough was impression: Not the conveyance of explicit knowledge or of a specific message, just a vague sense experienced by the broadcaster transmitted to the receiver. It had to be a strong sense, which meant staff with intense phobias being the broadcaster knowing what objects were beneath a series of cups, and the receiver choosing a cup at random based on the impression being transmitted to them.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the results fell well outside of what would have been possible on pure guesswork and we were pumped to fine tune the technology to see what it could do.
I say “random,” because even though it wasn’t, even though we knew it wasn’t and even though the receiver knew that a successful test would be proof that it wasn’t, they still felt as though they were choosing randomly. At no point did they feel like they were under someone else’s influence or receiving information externally; in every single instance, they were convinced that the experiment had failed and they were just choosing at random.
That should have been our first warning.
We advanced from cups viewed from two positions to mazes navigated from two positions, and then from mazes to simple guessing games like battleships and go fish. Again, no explicit information, but impressions that still left the receiver under the illusion that they were just lucky guessers.
From simple games we moved on to more advanced guessing games like celebrity heads and poker. This was a significant step forwards, but we were still relying on impressions that could be rationalised by the receiver as guesswork and luck. At no point was anyone being fed information that they couldn’t have conceivably deduced, remembered, calculated or bumbled their way into naturally.
That’s when the second major breakthrough happened. One of our broadcasters, Jackson, had gotten tired transmitting the correct answers to his receiver and had started feeding them deliberately incorrect answers. Nothing obvious - just answers that were close enough that they could make even someone who already knew second guess themselves. His receiver had a post-it note on her forehead with “Tiger Woods” written in permanent marker on it, and she had been given the clue “Golfing champion.”
By now, everyone had gotten used to Jackson’s shenanigans, so we grinned or grimaced as poor Lena rattled through every wrong answer she could be compelled to try.
“Tony the Tiger. Michael Jordan. Walt Disney. Santa Claus. Mickey Mouse. Bullroarer Took. Babe Ruth. Heisenberg. Wait, who the hell is Bullroarer Took?”
She didn’t get an answer, as the lab immediately exploded into questions and exclamations and people generally just freaking out. We’d done it, and somehow completely by accident: An entirely new, explicit piece of information had been seamlessly added to a receiver’s brain and it wasn’t until a few seconds after they’d actually said it that they even realised it wasn’t information from their own brain.
That was our second warning.
The third warning came quite a bit later, but by pure chance, I was the only one who noticed and when I did, I acted immediately.
Jackson’s shenanigans had inadvertently opened up new paths of inquiry. By randomly but deliberately poking at areas of knowledge specifically unrelated to the task at hand, we were able to isolate the neural activation patterns associated with conscious knowledge independent of emotional belief.
What followed were several successful instances of transmitting discrete pieces of data from broadcaster to receiver, however we then ran into the new problem of getting the receiver to distinguish between their own thoughts and the information being fed to them. Furthermore, when asked to explain the reasoning behind the transmitted answers, receivers became dismissive, evasive and sometimes even agitated, later explaining that the information just “felt true,” a sensation that applied even in instances where the receiver had been deliberately fed incorrect data.
With mounting dread, we realised the danger of the technology we had created.
The true horror sunk in during a coffee break, when by pure chance I saw Jackon’s reflection making an odd hand gesture over the drink of a coworker whose back was turned. I had to force myself to turn around slowly, watching Jackson converse casually without his eyes leaving her face. It wasn’t until she took a sip that he seemed to relax and noticed me by the coffee machine. I did my best to betray nothing, placing my own coffee onto the table in front of him and moving as though to sit when I “remembered” to get cream from the fridge.
This time when I turned I saw his hurried motion plainly in the brushed metal door, and it took all the self control I had not to confront him or punch his lights out. I returned to the table, adding the cream without sitting before returning it to the fridge. I picked up my coffee and was about to walk out of the room with it when Jackson called out to me with some innocent question about my department. It quickly became clear that he was stalling, waiting for me to drink, so I feigned a casual sip with tightly pursed lips as we spoke and he seemed to relax. I took the opportunity to leave with my cup and as soon as I was out of sight went straight to the micro-observation facility.
We had initially aimed to use physical chips implanted in the subject’s brains to establish a connection, but the risk of accidental damage compounded by multiple intrusions in the case of faulty hardware or the replacement of redundant units made this untenable. Thankfully (or perhaps not), we were assisted by our sister department in nanotech, who had developed a biomonitoring system using carbide nanites that could enter the bloodstream through the digestive tract. To test for successful nanite absorption, we just needed to take a blood sample and insert it into an observation case. And it didn’t just work on blood.
I felt my stomach drop as the coffee reading came back positive. A concentration high enough that even a mouthful would fully colonise a body within hours. I felt sick as I entered a vial of my own saliva, and when that test also came back as a weak positive and rising, I almost fainted.
That fucking bastard.
I had to stop myself from running to the configuration deck and came to a sudden halt halfway there. There’s no way Jackson could have done anything underhanded on one of the terminals without someone seeing him. The room, the equipment and change was constantly monitored as a security measure. If he were going to do anything without being detected, it would need to be somewhere private where he could still access the server and the network. He wasn’t authorised to be anywhere near the site’s core infrastructure, but it was the only place where he would have everything he needed.
I didn’t know how I was going to get access to the server room when I arrived - it’s not as if I had access either - but it turned out that I didn’t need access and neither did Jackson.
Lena had access, and she had left the door unlocked.
She looked up at me owlishly from where she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a laptop on her knees.
“Oh, Hi Marcus,” she said, parroting Tommy Wiseau’s infamous line as though we were meeting in the break room.
“Lena?” I asked cautiously. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just making sure that anytime a new host comes online, they’re set to receive only,” she said, as though she were just filling out her calendar. She turned the laptop so that I could see the screen and pointed at the second of two dots on a map of the facility. “See? There you are right next to me. You came online just a minute ago, so I’ve already made you a receiver.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because Jackson told me to.”
I stared at the unquestioning innocence in her eyes.
“And you have to do what he says?”
Lena rolled her eyes at me. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeated. The silence was broken only by the steady whine of cooling fans.
Eventually, Lena shifted uncomfortably. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not IT.”
Not wanting to alarm her, I said the first thing that I could think of. “No, but Jackson sent me.”
The way Lena’s face lit up at his name made me feel ill.
“Does that mean you’re working for him too?”
“Yes,” I lied. Like a man laying down rails for a moving train as he’s riding on it, I grabbed blindly for any string of words that might work. “And he told me to come get you for something important. He’s… outside in the parking lot and says you need to come straight away.”
Lena’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, but I have to stay here for stage three. I’ve just finished getting everyone online.”
“That’s fine. He told me to take over. I have to do what he says, remember? You’ve finished stage two, haven’t you? He says you’ve done a very good job.”
Again, the look of bliss that took over Lena’s face twisted my gut.
“Great! Where can I find him?”
“He just told me as he was walking out,” I said, letting Lena stand up and hand me the laptop. “You’ll have to go look for him. He’s keeping an eye out for you.”
“Okay!” I watched Lena leave the room and closed it behind her, making sure to lock it this time. We shared our parking with three other departments across eight floors, so unless Jackson really was there already, that would keep her out of the way.
She’d been right. Jackson had worked his way through the entire department’s staff and I had a live view of every single person in the facility. Watching the glowing dots meander around the map gave me a truly terrifying glimpse into the future we had made possible.
What caught my eye was something that didn’t exist in the standard interface. We had created individual controls for the kind of transmissions we wanted and the direction we wanted them to go in, but Lena had added a new input without a label.
Clicking on it, a text field appears in which the name “Enfield, Lena” was already populated followed by a yes/no switch.
I pressed “yes” and blacked out.
*
I was in the parking lot, on the blue level by bay two-zero-two. At first I wondered how I had been suddenly transported when I realised how strange I felt all over - my body, my clothes and my hair all felt wrong somehow.
I looked down and felt the strength leave my legs as I saw a woman’s body stretching out below me. A woman’s body in a pair of black Mary Janes, matching pencil skirt, white dress shirt and a lanyard whose ID read “Lena Enfield.”
I stared at myself in shock, having fallen to my knees and began running my unfamiliar hands over my unfamiliar body, trying to confirm that I wasn’t somehow dreaming.
“Lena!” a voice echoed across the concrete, causing me to jump in a mix of fear and guilt. I turned in the direction of the voice and felt my heart quail at the side of Jackson striding towards me, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over and I wanted to be absolutely anywhere except anywhere near him, and in that same moment I felt myself dragged back into the cool air of the server room, sitting on the floor with Lena’s laptop on my legs.
We had theorised that it was possible, but had never been arrogant or stupid enough to try it. The psychological risks and ethical dangers it posed were beyond our ability to rationalise and well outside the original scope of the project, though there were rumours that it would eventually be turned towards a similar end.
But I didn’t have time to marvel at the development. Jackson would interrogate Lena, Lena would tell him the truth, and he would run straight here. I had to act fast.
Jackson would head straight for the server room once he realised what had happened.
I could head straight for the director’s office, but there was no guarantee that she wasn’t also in on his plot. I checked the map again: She had her nanites installed and despite her rank in the organisation had also been set to receive, as had every guard on her floor. Jackson really intended to just dominate everyone in the building. I had all the proof I needed to expose Jackson and have him arrested.
We would need to deprogram Lena. Shit, assuming that was even possible. God only knew how badly Jackson had been screwing with her brain, or for how long. And there was always a chance the higher ups would find out and do what higher ups always do when they have the opportunity to take even more wealth and power.
I fretted for much longer than I should have under the circumstances. Maybe there really was no other way, or maybe I was just deliberately backing myself into a corner. Whatever the case, the sudden jangle of keys at the door alerted me that I had run out of time, and that within seconds, Jackson would be in the room to steal back the laptop, or possibly even frame me, now that he’d been discovered.
I’d considered the option and dismissed it as immoral. Self-serving. A road too dangerous to even consider walking down. But having failed to take any other action, it was the only one I had left.
It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. When the chips are down and the pressure is on, the only person you can depend on is yourself.
I dragged my own icon into the super broadcaster position, and hit “execute.”
*
There wasn’t any sudden rush of sensation. There never had been: Broadcasting just took the data you wanted to impart and transmitted a copy to the target. But for some reason, I still expected something.
What did happen was the sound of keys hitting the floor outside, followed by a hollow groan of absolute despair.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find Jackson, grey-faced and swaying with his hands covering his face. Lena was behind him, looking pitiful, but not nearly as distraught as Jackson.
“Hello, Jackson.” I said flatly.
“Don’t…” he moaned through his hands.
People had begun to file into the room, ashen-faced but with a mix of anger, all of them staring at Jackson as he tried to hide behind himself.
I’d used the nanites to broadcast two things: The knowledge of what Jackson had tried to do, and my overwhelming disgust at him for the attempt.
Now everyone knew what he’d done, he knew that they knew and he shared their hatred for himself because I had copied it directly from my mind into his.
“Nobody hurt him,” I said, seeing the balled fists and shaking hands around me. “Nobody let him hurt himself, either. Get him out of here.”
Four men approached Jackson, who didn’t resist as they grimly marched him away. I turned to Lena, who was running her hands through her hair, wide-eyed and shivering.
“H-he was-s in m-my head…” she stammered.
I didn’t have any words of consolation for her. Least of all, because not moments ago I had also been inside her mind. The only reason she knew about Jackson was because I had “told” her. I motioned for another one of the staff to take her away.
“Alright, everyone,” I said to those who remained. “I want an all-hands meeting in the break room. Tell everyone you see, and someone head upstairs to find…”
I trailed off as I realised how much time would be wasted finding everyone in the building and telling them where to go, and then more wasted simply having the meeting itself, and that was assuming nobody disagreed with what I was about to say.
Well, neither of those things were problems anymore, were they?
I activated my transmitter and broadcast a new set of instructions.
“The project is to be terminated. Nobody can be trusted with this power. Destroy all hardware, all documentation, strip the building down and wipe everything.”
The effect was instant: People began moving with an almost frantic purpose, delegating tasks to themselves or people nearby as files began to be pulled out of drawers and shredded, computers wiped and machinery disassembled. I had intended to join in, but found myself at sea in a centre of bustling activity, so instead walked myself out to my car to lie down and clear my head.
Had I done the right thing? Yes. Absolutely. Any other decision would have exposed everyone to the risk of Jackson regaining control, or the project being compromised by a figure in authority. Even if the director was of sound moral character, her superiors might not be, or their superiors above them. Someone, somewhere in the organisation would have tried to take advantage, just like Jackson did. Better to destroy everything and pretend it never happened.
I watched numbly as a procession of staff began to file out with armfuls and boxes of shredded documents, leaving trails of confetti in their wake. Like ants, they threw their boxes into one of the massive steel containers used for waste disposal. Some others had started fussing over the nearest cars, and it took me a while to realise that they were siphoning the petrol.
My initial alarm was quelled somewhat when they left the containers of fuel to one side instead of lighting it immediately. Any kind of fire would alert the emergency services, who would no doubt try to stop what was happening once they arrived.
It was actually kind of peaceful, sitting apart from the action and just watching it unfold. Almost like watching an ant colony cleaning out a lunchbox: All of the inside bits got broken down and taken outside until all that was left was the shell.
They had filled all six bins and four of the cargo trucks by the time they were done. Everything had been reduced to the smallest parts it could be torn, cut, unscrewed, unplugged or just smashed into. There was no cheering as fuel was added or the flames lit from a safe distance. Just the quiet relief of a terrible future averted.
Someone coughed near me and I turned to see Lena and a few other members of staff with a single trolley loaded with some equipment that hadn’t been destroyed. Confused, I turned to Lena.
“Aren’t you going to add it to the pile?” I asked.
“Not this stuff,” Lena said cheerfully, apparently recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We figured it would be a shame if we destroyed literally everything, so we’ve saved some of it. And because you decided to be mister lazy-pants while the rest of us were hard at work, we’re giving you the job of taking care of it.”
I couldn’t stop my brow furrowing in confusion. “I never told you to do that.”
Lena scoffed as the others began loading the equipment into my car. “Good. We’re not here to do what you tell us. The vote was unanimous: We’re all getting out, so you get to babysit the last remnants. Hide it, destroy it, do whatever you want. This is your share of the responsibility. Maybe next time, do your bit instead of wandering off for a nap, okay?”
And with that, they left to join the rapidly dispersing crowd as everyone jumped into their cars or hitched a ride from the others. A column of black smoke reached up from the facility, and it would be a matter of minutes before the firefighters arrived. Just by virtue of the work we were doing, the cops wouldn’t be far behind.
Without time to get everything out of my car and into the fire, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made my way out with the rest, racking my brain furiously as I tried to avoid speeding on my way home.
I never told them to set aside any equipment for me. No, I never CONSCIOUSLY told them. That really was the only explanation: There was no way that - after being given the artificial impression that the entire project needed to be burned to the ground - they would somehow conveniently decide that I should be trusted with the last pieces of evidence. Not just any evidence, either: At a glance I could tell that I had been left with everything I needed to manufacture and configure the nanites myself, just on a much smaller scale.
Despite my best intentions, some small part of myself had subconsciously implanted the addendum that one way or another, I should have the power to continue the project privately.
Fine, then. I’d get home, pack up what little I could fit and get the hell out of the city, state, maybe even country before finding somewhere I could safely destroy the last remains of a terrible mistake.
That was almost two years ago.
I never did get around to destroying that equipment.
At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
In hindsight, I don’t see how things could have turned out any other way. I’m not saying that as an excuse for any of the things I did or as if it makes them any less bad, but having taken the first step, things just kind of kept happening.
It started at work. I won’t say where.
We were testing methods of remote information transmission that didn’t rely on explicit outputs or inputs. Basically communication that bypassed the barriers outlined in models like Berlo’s SMCR: Instead of relying on language to convey meaning, our aim was to find a way to convey meaning itself directly from one mind to at least one other.
Again, with the benefit of hindsight, the implications were obvious, but we weren’t concerned with whether we should, we just wanted to see if we could. Classic hubris of the scientifically minded.
And it turns out we can. Or more specifically, I can. I’ve made sure all traces of the research material has been scrubbed from any database; every hard drive degaussed, every memory stick smashed into tiny pieces, every document shredded and the whole lot set on fire just to be safe. The technology is too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
Yes, like mine. It turns out my hands are also the wrong hands, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought if I just kept the research to myself and studied it in secret, I could find a way to use it to make the world a better place. I guess I can still do that. Maybe it will make up for the bad that I’ve done, which on reflection isn’t even that bad.
Sure, I accidentally corrupted the free will of a fellow human being and inadvertently turned them into my loyal assistant and sex slave, but they’re happy. I know they’re happy, because in a lot of ways, they’re also me.
That helps, right?
*
Everyone was very excited. It was something worth being excited about. Transmission was old tech and measuring changes in brain waves was old tech, but reliably translating knowledge as it was being recalled into data, then being able to implant that data into another mind was a big fucking deal.
Other departments in other labs were specialising in mechanical transmission - robotics and cybernetics, for replacement or auxiliary limbs or remote work in hazardous environments. Useful stuff, but not nearly as delicate as what we were trying to achieve. They were trying to transmit a signal to a robot hand to gently hold an egg: We were trying to pull a single thought out of one mind and stitch it seamlessly into another.
Our first major breakthrough was impression: Not the conveyance of explicit knowledge or of a specific message, just a vague sense experienced by the broadcaster transmitted to the receiver. It had to be a strong sense, which meant staff with intense phobias being the broadcaster knowing what objects were beneath a series of cups, and the receiver choosing a cup at random based on the impression being transmitted to them.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the results fell well outside of what would have been possible on pure guesswork and we were pumped to fine tune the technology to see what it could do.
I say “random,” because even though it wasn’t, even though we knew it wasn’t and even though the receiver knew that a successful test would be proof that it wasn’t, they still felt as though they were choosing randomly. At no point did they feel like they were under someone else’s influence or receiving information externally; in every single instance, they were convinced that the experiment had failed and they were just choosing at random.
That should have been our first warning.
We advanced from cups viewed from two positions to mazes navigated from two positions, and then from mazes to simple guessing games like battleships and go fish. Again, no explicit information, but impressions that still left the receiver under the illusion that they were just lucky guessers.
From simple games we moved on to more advanced guessing games like celebrity heads and poker. This was a significant step forwards, but we were still relying on impressions that could be rationalised by the receiver as guesswork and luck. At no point was anyone being fed information that they couldn’t have conceivably deduced, remembered, calculated or bumbled their way into naturally.
That’s when the second major breakthrough happened. One of our broadcasters, Jackson, had gotten tired transmitting the correct answers to his receiver and had started feeding them deliberately incorrect answers. Nothing obvious - just answers that were close enough that they could make even someone who already knew second guess themselves. His receiver had a post-it note on her forehead with “Tiger Woods” written in permanent marker on it, and she had been given the clue “Golfing champion.”
By now, everyone had gotten used to Jackson’s shenanigans, so we grinned or grimaced as poor Lena rattled through every wrong answer she could be compelled to try.
“Tony the Tiger. Michael Jordan. Walt Disney. Santa Claus. Mickey Mouse. Bullroarer Took. Babe Ruth. Heisenberg. Wait, who the hell is Bullroarer Took?”
She didn’t get an answer, as the lab immediately exploded into questions and exclamations and people generally just freaking out. We’d done it, and somehow completely by accident: An entirely new, explicit piece of information had been seamlessly added to a receiver’s brain and it wasn’t until a few seconds after they’d actually said it that they even realised it wasn’t information from their own brain.
That was our second warning.
The third warning came quite a bit later, but by pure chance, I was the only one who noticed and when I did, I acted immediately.
Jackson’s shenanigans had inadvertently opened up new paths of inquiry. By randomly but deliberately poking at areas of knowledge specifically unrelated to the task at hand, we were able to isolate the neural activation patterns associated with conscious knowledge independent of emotional belief.
What followed were several successful instances of transmitting discrete pieces of data from broadcaster to receiver, however we then ran into the new problem of getting the receiver to distinguish between their own thoughts and the information being fed to them. Furthermore, when asked to explain the reasoning behind the transmitted answers, receivers became dismissive, evasive and sometimes even agitated, later explaining that the information just “felt true,” a sensation that applied even in instances where the receiver had been deliberately fed incorrect data.
With mounting dread, we realised the danger of the technology we had created.
The true horror sunk in during a coffee break, when by pure chance I saw Jackon’s reflection making an odd hand gesture over the drink of a coworker whose back was turned. I had to force myself to turn around slowly, watching Jackson converse casually without his eyes leaving her face. It wasn’t until she took a sip that he seemed to relax and noticed me by the coffee machine. I did my best to betray nothing, placing my own coffee onto the table in front of him and moving as though to sit when I “remembered” to get cream from the fridge.
This time when I turned I saw his hurried motion plainly in the brushed metal door, and it took all the self control I had not to confront him or punch his lights out. I returned to the table, adding the cream without sitting before returning it to the fridge. I picked up my coffee and was about to walk out of the room with it when Jackson called out to me with some innocent question about my department. It quickly became clear that he was stalling, waiting for me to drink, so I feigned a casual sip with tightly pursed lips as we spoke and he seemed to relax. I took the opportunity to leave with my cup and as soon as I was out of sight went straight to the micro-observation facility.
We had initially aimed to use physical chips implanted in the subject’s brains to establish a connection, but the risk of accidental damage compounded by multiple intrusions in the case of faulty hardware or the replacement of redundant units made this untenable. Thankfully (or perhaps not), we were assisted by our sister department in nanotech, who had developed a biomonitoring system using carbide nanites that could enter the bloodstream through the digestive tract. To test for successful nanite absorption, we just needed to take a blood sample and insert it into an observation case. And it didn’t just work on blood.
I felt my stomach drop as the coffee reading came back positive. A concentration high enough that even a mouthful would fully colonise a body within hours. I felt sick as I entered a vial of my own saliva, and when that test also came back as a weak positive and rising, I almost fainted.
That fucking bastard.
I had to stop myself from running to the configuration deck and came to a sudden halt halfway there. There’s no way Jackson could have done anything underhanded on one of the terminals without someone seeing him. The room, the equipment and change was constantly monitored as a security measure. If he were going to do anything without being detected, it would need to be somewhere private where he could still access the server and the network. He wasn’t authorised to be anywhere near the site’s core infrastructure, but it was the only place where he would have everything he needed.
I didn’t know how I was going to get access to the server room when I arrived - it’s not as if I had access either - but it turned out that I didn’t need access and neither did Jackson.
Lena had access, and she had left the door unlocked.
She looked up at me owlishly from where she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a laptop on her knees.
“Oh, Hi Marcus,” she said, parroting Tommy Wiseau’s infamous line as though we were meeting in the break room.
“Lena?” I asked cautiously. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just making sure that anytime a new host comes online, they’re set to receive only,” she said, as though she were just filling out her calendar. She turned the laptop so that I could see the screen and pointed at the second of two dots on a map of the facility. “See? There you are right next to me. You came online just a minute ago, so I’ve already made you a receiver.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because Jackson told me to.”
I stared at the unquestioning innocence in her eyes.
“And you have to do what he says?”
Lena rolled her eyes at me. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeated. The silence was broken only by the steady whine of cooling fans.
Eventually, Lena shifted uncomfortably. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not IT.”
Not wanting to alarm her, I said the first thing that I could think of. “No, but Jackson sent me.”
The way Lena’s face lit up at his name made me feel ill.
“Does that mean you’re working for him too?”
“Yes,” I lied. Like a man laying down rails for a moving train as he’s riding on it, I grabbed blindly for any string of words that might work. “And he told me to come get you for something important. He’s… outside in the parking lot and says you need to come straight away.”
Lena’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, but I have to stay here for stage three. I’ve just finished getting everyone online.”
“That’s fine. He told me to take over. I have to do what he says, remember? You’ve finished stage two, haven’t you? He says you’ve done a very good job.”
Again, the look of bliss that took over Lena’s face twisted my gut.
“Great! Where can I find him?”
“He just told me as he was walking out,” I said, letting Lena stand up and hand me the laptop. “You’ll have to go look for him. He’s keeping an eye out for you.”
“Okay!” I watched Lena leave the room and closed it behind her, making sure to lock it this time. We shared our parking with three other departments across eight floors, so unless Jackson really was there already, that would keep her out of the way.
She’d been right. Jackson had worked his way through the entire department’s staff and I had a live view of every single person in the facility. Watching the glowing dots meander around the map gave me a truly terrifying glimpse into the future we had made possible.
What caught my eye was something that didn’t exist in the standard interface. We had created individual controls for the kind of transmissions we wanted and the direction we wanted them to go in, but Lena had added a new input without a label.
Clicking on it, a text field appears in which the name “Enfield, Lena” was already populated followed by a yes/no switch.
I pressed “yes” and blacked out.
*
I was in the parking lot, on the blue level by bay two-zero-two. At first I wondered how I had been suddenly transported when I realised how strange I felt all over - my body, my clothes and my hair all felt wrong somehow.
I looked down and felt the strength leave my legs as I saw a woman’s body stretching out below me. A woman’s body in a pair of black Mary Janes, matching pencil skirt, white dress shirt and a lanyard whose ID read “Lena Enfield.”
I stared at myself in shock, having fallen to my knees and began running my unfamiliar hands over my unfamiliar body, trying to confirm that I wasn’t somehow dreaming.
“Lena!” a voice echoed across the concrete, causing me to jump in a mix of fear and guilt. I turned in the direction of the voice and felt my heart quail at the side of Jackson striding towards me, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over and I wanted to be absolutely anywhere except anywhere near him, and in that same moment I felt myself dragged back into the cool air of the server room, sitting on the floor with Lena’s laptop on my legs.
We had theorised that it was possible, but had never been arrogant or stupid enough to try it. The psychological risks and ethical dangers it posed were beyond our ability to rationalise and well outside the original scope of the project, though there were rumours that it would eventually be turned towards a similar end.
But I didn’t have time to marvel at the development. Jackson would interrogate Lena, Lena would tell him the truth, and he would run straight here. I had to act fast.
Jackson would head straight for the server room once he realised what had happened.
I could head straight for the director’s office, but there was no guarantee that she wasn’t also in on his plot. I checked the map again: She had her nanites installed and despite her rank in the organisation had also been set to receive, as had every guard on her floor. Jackson really intended to just dominate everyone in the building. I had all the proof I needed to expose Jackson and have him arrested.
We would need to deprogram Lena. Shit, assuming that was even possible. God only knew how badly Jackson had been screwing with her brain, or for how long. And there was always a chance the higher ups would find out and do what higher ups always do when they have the opportunity to take even more wealth and power.
I fretted for much longer than I should have under the circumstances. Maybe there really was no other way, or maybe I was just deliberately backing myself into a corner. Whatever the case, the sudden jangle of keys at the door alerted me that I had run out of time, and that within seconds, Jackson would be in the room to steal back the laptop, or possibly even frame me, now that he’d been discovered.
I’d considered the option and dismissed it as immoral. Self-serving. A road too dangerous to even consider walking down. But having failed to take any other action, it was the only one I had left.
It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. When the chips are down and the pressure is on, the only person you can depend on is yourself.
I dragged my own icon into the super broadcaster position, and hit “execute.”
*
There wasn’t any sudden rush of sensation. There never had been: Broadcasting just took the data you wanted to impart and transmitted a copy to the target. But for some reason, I still expected something.
What did happen was the sound of keys hitting the floor outside, followed by a hollow groan of absolute despair.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find Jackson, grey-faced and swaying with his hands covering his face. Lena was behind him, looking pitiful, but not nearly as distraught as Jackson.
“Hello, Jackson.” I said flatly.
“Don’t…” he moaned through his hands.
People had begun to file into the room, ashen-faced but with a mix of anger, all of them staring at Jackson as he tried to hide behind himself.
I’d used the nanites to broadcast two things: The knowledge of what Jackson had tried to do, and my overwhelming disgust at him for the attempt.
Now everyone knew what he’d done, he knew that they knew and he shared their hatred for himself because I had copied it directly from my mind into his.
“Nobody hurt him,” I said, seeing the balled fists and shaking hands around me. “Nobody let him hurt himself, either. Get him out of here.”
Four men approached Jackson, who didn’t resist as they grimly marched him away. I turned to Lena, who was running her hands through her hair, wide-eyed and shivering.
“H-he was-s in m-my head…” she stammered.
I didn’t have any words of consolation for her. Least of all, because not moments ago I had also been inside her mind. The only reason she knew about Jackson was because I had “told” her. I motioned for another one of the staff to take her away.
“Alright, everyone,” I said to those who remained. “I want an all-hands meeting in the break room. Tell everyone you see, and someone head upstairs to find…”
I trailed off as I realised how much time would be wasted finding everyone in the building and telling them where to go, and then more wasted simply having the meeting itself, and that was assuming nobody disagreed with what I was about to say.
Well, neither of those things were problems anymore, were they?
I activated my transmitter and broadcast a new set of instructions.
“The project is to be terminated. Nobody can be trusted with this power. Destroy all hardware, all documentation, strip the building down and wipe everything.”
The effect was instant: People began moving with an almost frantic purpose, delegating tasks to themselves or people nearby as files began to be pulled out of drawers and shredded, computers wiped and machinery disassembled. I had intended to join in, but found myself at sea in a centre of bustling activity, so instead walked myself out to my car to lie down and clear my head.
Had I done the right thing? Yes. Absolutely. Any other decision would have exposed everyone to the risk of Jackson regaining control, or the project being compromised by a figure in authority. Even if the director was of sound moral character, her superiors might not be, or their superiors above them. Someone, somewhere in the organisation would have tried to take advantage, just like Jackson did. Better to destroy everything and pretend it never happened.
I watched numbly as a procession of staff began to file out with armfuls and boxes of shredded documents, leaving trails of confetti in their wake. Like ants, they threw their boxes into one of the massive steel containers used for waste disposal. Some others had started fussing over the nearest cars, and it took me a while to realise that they were siphoning the petrol.
My initial alarm was quelled somewhat when they left the containers of fuel to one side instead of lighting it immediately. Any kind of fire would alert the emergency services, who would no doubt try to stop what was happening once they arrived.
It was actually kind of peaceful, sitting apart from the action and just watching it unfold. Almost like watching an ant colony cleaning out a lunchbox: All of the inside bits got broken down and taken outside until all that was left was the shell.
They had filled all six bins and four of the cargo trucks by the time they were done. Everything had been reduced to the smallest parts it could be torn, cut, unscrewed, unplugged or just smashed into. There was no cheering as fuel was added or the flames lit from a safe distance. Just the quiet relief of a terrible future averted.
Someone coughed near me and I turned to see Lena and a few other members of staff with a single trolley loaded with some equipment that hadn’t been destroyed. Confused, I turned to Lena.
“Aren’t you going to add it to the pile?” I asked.
“Not this stuff,” Lena said cheerfully, apparently recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We figured it would be a shame if we destroyed literally everything, so we’ve saved some of it. And because you decided to be mister lazy-pants while the rest of us were hard at work, we’re giving you the job of taking care of it.”
I couldn’t stop my brow furrowing in confusion. “I never told you to do that.”
Lena scoffed as the others began loading the equipment into my car. “Good. We’re not here to do what you tell us. The vote was unanimous: We’re all getting out, so you get to babysit the last remnants. Hide it, destroy it, do whatever you want. This is your share of the responsibility. Maybe next time, do your bit instead of wandering off for a nap, okay?”
And with that, they left to join the rapidly dispersing crowd as everyone jumped into their cars or hitched a ride from the others. A column of black smoke reached up from the facility, and it would be a matter of minutes before the firefighters arrived. Just by virtue of the work we were doing, the cops wouldn’t be far behind.
Without time to get everything out of my car and into the fire, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made my way out with the rest, racking my brain furiously as I tried to avoid speeding on my way home.
I never told them to set aside any equipment for me. No, I never CONSCIOUSLY told them. That really was the only explanation: There was no way that - after being given the artificial impression that the entire project needed to be burned to the ground - they would somehow conveniently decide that I should be trusted with the last pieces of evidence. Not just any evidence, either: At a glance I could tell that I had been left with everything I needed to manufacture and configure the nanites myself, just on a much smaller scale.
Despite my best intentions, some small part of myself had subconsciously implanted the addendum that one way or another, I should have the power to continue the project privately.
Fine, then. I’d get home, pack up what little I could fit and get the hell out of the city, state, maybe even country before finding somewhere I could safely destroy the last remains of a terrible mistake.
That was almost two years ago.
I never did get around to destroying that equipment.
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