NationStates Jolt Archive


Itchy Digits

12-12-2003, 02:13
This laboratory is like many others. Clinical whites and dim blue ultraviolet lights embedded in walls illuminate a round chamber, glassy pillars filled with vapour containing test samples. The samples themselves are unusual- bits of circuitry, RAM and other computer components. This is not the only strange factor in the room. The equipment itself is odd, somewhat alien: smooth and somewhat glistening, it seems grown out of floors and cielings, as indeed it is. Composed of complex arrays of tissues and carapace, of nerve, muscle and bone, the laboratory itself is alive. And, to a limited degree, intelligent. A massive node of fungus hangs in the cieling, a repository of data and processing equipment, designed to complete simple tasks.

Commandante Yat-Sen, dressed in a tough white hostile enviroment uniform, itself grown far below in the extensive manufacturing warrens, looks expectantly at the test sample. Closing his eyes, he channels his will, his desire, to the impassive fungal node above.

Began Operation

A vague sense of assent is all the reaction he receives.

All around him, lights flicker on, illuminating from below and within the test collumns. A thin, ruddy vapour fills these tubes from thick fleshy cords which reach up to the ceiling. Ocular augmentation engaged, Yat-Sen examines the shards of circuitry- some from EOTED, some Angelan, some Menelmacari, and samples from others nations. At first, there is nothing to see. The gas slowly settles towards the bottom. Yat-Sen sighs. He'd been hoping this would take but a few minutes. Still, he was nothing if not patient.

An hour passes. The effects of the gas are now clearly visible. Everywhere on the circuitry corrosion can be seen, as the bacteria devour various elements, and began colonizing the exposed circuitry. Theoretically, this would allow Mallbertan operatives to interfere with, perhaps even gain control over, infected systems.
Again he channels towards the node:

Success?

And again assent.
12-12-2003, 02:30
Marken Rayte was a happy, happy man. He had a glass of brandy, a brace of cigars, a newspaper and a fine sunset to accompany them. He recline on the porch of his rather spartan appartment, the last light of the setting sun warming cheeks. Truly, he'd been a lucky man to receive this appointment.

Rayte hadn't always been the successful EOTED banker he was now. Only five years ago he'd been knee deep in oil, electrode whip forcing slow drones back to work in the lowest foundry of the manufacturing warren. However, his features, temperment and affinity for language had blessed him sufficiently to move from simple Commisar to Special Operative.

Still... he couldn't silence the nagging near the base of his skull, the little voice that drove him, compelled him, to serve the fatherland. The MALLNET node had been all but removed; still, enough remained to ensure his obedience. However, there was no point crying over spilled milk as it were; there was nothing anyone could do to remove it. Indeed, if it were to be removed, he'd face certain death, as the MT-virus would rage uncontrollably through his body.

He opened his paper, flipped to the stock section, and took a deep puff of fine Santa Barberan tobacco. Scanning down to the M listings, he fround slightly, then quickly rose, fetching a notebook and pen from his nearly empty desk. With feverish intesity, he began compying names:


Aggrain Technical Inc
Gacca Technologies
Terrasanctus Global Administration...


AGGATAGACCATGTAACTGAATAT...
12-12-2003, 11:54
bump
Ma-tek
12-12-2003, 21:53
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