章 134: Vol. III Chapter 9 The Shaw Protocol
Chapter 9 The Shaw Protocol
"Good morning children." Burton glanced round the atrium at the teenage faces. They still looked like children to him. "Today, we're going to be experimenting." He bounced a rubber ball and snatched it from the air.
"Ava." He threw it to her with force but she caught it easily. "Step forward please." Burton gave her a smile and a wink as she awkwardly walked forward. "Now Ava, throw the ball and catch it."
"Like this?" Ava asked, tossing the ball from hand to hand.
"No." He pressed the button on his pipboy, unlocking the training programs on Ava's device. Her eyes involuntarily closed and began moving rapidly. Burton picked the ball up and handed it back to her. She smiled and turned, hurling the ball back towards the other children. Within the blink of an eye, Ava outpaced the ball and plucked it from the air.
Gasps and excited laughter filled the atrium as the children took turns zipping back and forth across the room. "Alright, take a minute." Burton waited for the giddy din to die down as the children sat. "How did that feel?" He could analyse the data, but that couldn't tell him how it felt to move that fast.
"It's like being underwater." Answered one boy.
"Or like when you fall and it seems to take ages." Added another.
"It's like a dream." Ava's voice cut through the noise and galvanised the feeling in the room.
"Interesting. Now, what do we do when we want to learn about something new?" Burton had instilled scientific methods in his students. He gently coaxed them to his idea of athletics, each event ran twice. Once as a control, and then again in the dreamlike state. "Good. Split into teams of five and work out the plans."
Burton left them to it, finding Shaw stood on the mezzanine. He'd been watching for a while. "They made it look easy." Shaw looked stunned. "Jesus Burton, do you have any idea of the edge this will give them in the field." Shaw knew he didn't.
"You sound jealous." Burton deflected, the thought of the children in danger turned his stomach.
"It won't hurt them will it?" Shaw asked. Burton knew what he meant.
"I expect some strains, a few bumps and bruises, but no. That won't happen again. The implanted muscle memory means they know how to move like that." Burton felt confident in that.
"Good." Shaw clapped Burton on the back, hope and pride making him stand a little taller. "We're going to do great things Burton." He left, heading quickly down the stairs to join the children. Burton lingered for a moment. Partly to shake the feeling of retreating, but more to resist the addictive lure of a new frontier of science. Discoveries that came at a price paid by the children.
"You want to do what?" Burton feigned shock at what he thought to be a neat idea.
"Flood a section of the sub level and cut the power." Ava didn't bat an eye, sticking to her idea. She'd stood at the top table while the staff ate, other children straining to hear. "Temporarily, of course."
"And how are you going to get it out when you're done?" Burton leant back and folded his arms. Ava plucked an ice cube from the pitcher of filtered water.
"Carry it." She slid the ice cube down her arm and popped her elbow, landing the cube back in the pitcher with a splash. "Then we'll use it to water the garden."
"Very clever Ava." Burton's act fell away, even he didn't think to simply carry the ice out. "The water pipe blueprints are on the server. Major Shaw or myself will need to handle the power down." He sat back, pleased with his student.
"Thank you, sir." Ava stepped back, rejoining her table and the flurry of excitement.
Later that evening, Burton went down to the mainframe room. He'd wondered what, if any, data about sporting events might be available. He stood for a moment, leaning on the railing and peering out.
The steady hum and uniform rows always brought him a sense of calm. To his surprise, the sound of footsteps began to rise over the hum. No one ever came down here. As far as Burton knew no one had set foot in here apart from him.
"Hello?" He called out, trying not to sound unnerved.
"Burton?" Shaw answered, appearing at the bottom of the metal staircase.
"What are you doing down here?" Burton asked without thinking. Shaw had higher clearance than him and didn't have to answer to anyone. He expected a short, sharp reminder of this. Instead Shaw seemed almost flustered.
"Pulling some old mission reports." Shaw raised his hand, showing the hard drive he held. Burton thought it odd. "You know you could have got them from upstairs, right?" He smiled to undercut the patronising response.
"Now you tell me." Shaw looked frustrated at his lack of knowledge.
"I just need to check the cultural database, see if there's anything on sporting events. Then I can show you how to access the classified files remotely...if you want." Burton forgot sometimes that Shaw's previous career involved very little time behind a desk.
Two weeks later, Burton sat in the bleachers on the retrofitted sub level. A running track made from recycled rubber. Pipes turned into hurdles. A narrow trough of dirt for the long jump. Alongside the already well used weights, basketball hoops, and the astroturf five a side pitch. By far the most impressive piece of the children's design lay in the centre. An ice rink, set up for hockey.
Burton had kept out of the construction, despite wanting to be more involved. He had, however, suggested each event be ran twice. Once as a control, and once with the devices enabled. From the tests he'd ran already, Burton had enough data to begin making improvements to the devices. The precise data from the next few days would increase the efficiency further.
"Children, eyes and ears." Shaw stepped out in front, his arm raised till the excited chatter faded. "Before we begin I want to wish you all luck. And to remind you that when we compete, we do so to make each other better. The chain is only as strong as its weakest link, remember that children, always." Shaw let his words sink in, looking over the faces around him. "Now, Professor Blake, what's first?"
"Hundred metre sprint, unaided." Burton walked with Shaw to the straight section of track as the first five children took their marks. He glanced down as Shaw produced an automatic pistol. "You're kidding right?"
"If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right." Shaw seemed amused. "They're only blanks."
"Not what I meant, but go ahead." Burton checked the infrared beams the children had set up, linking them wirelessly to his contact lens display.
"Stand by!" Shaw barked and aimed up. He fired, the bang soon drowned out by cheers. The children ran at a steady pace, ending in a close finish. "Time?" Shaw bellowed, making sure everyone heard.
"Frederick takes first with thirteen point two." One of the taller boys took the win, with less than three seconds separating the rest. "Alright, one more time." A ripple of eagerness went through the children, while tension filled the adults. All except Burton.
"Stand by." Shaw yelled again. Burton split his focus between the runners and the real time data scrolling down his peripheral vision. He watched the children begin to breathe slowly, deeply. In a near synchronous rhythm. This, in turn, increased the blood oxygen readings. As the device had subconsciously programmed them to do. Their nerves became charged, frontal and occipital lobes primed. Then Shaw fired.
Instantly the runners moved visibly faster. The devices flooded with adrenaline to push them. It took control of subconscious motor functions to keep them steady. Gave them greater visual acuity, and the capacity to process that information at an increased speed. All of it happening slowly for them. Yet to Burton and Shaw, the runners hurtled past them at speed, crossing the finish line.
Two of the runners skidded into a stumble and fell, bouncing into a heap. Burton started to move, as did the staff, but Shaw waved them off. They watched as the other runners quickly got to the downed children. Checking them over and getting them up. They shook off what looked like a bad fall with ease.
"Status?" Shaw called out.
"Ready sir." Came the reply as the runners joined the others on the bleachers. Welcomed with concern and congratulations.
"Professor Blake, times?" Shaw asked with a smile.
"Frederick, six point four seconds." Burton watched Shaw's eyes widen with shock.
"Next team, stand by." Shaw walked over as the next team took their marks.
"Sir, I have a question." Frederick asked, his breathing back to normal. Shaw nodded. "Do we go when you pull the trigger or when we hear the shot?" Some laughed, but Burton knew he wasn't joking. Shaw didn't have an answer.
"Why don't you use the protocol we discussed." Burton smiled, instructing the children to use their synchronised internal display and infra red beams.
"So what is the world record for the hundred metre sprint?" Shaw asked as the next race started. "Nine point five eight." Burton knew they were only getting started.
Over the next few days, records from the old world became meaningless. Every one as broken as the ruins above. The children ran faster, jumped higher, threw harder, and recovered faster. All without years of training. Their skills implanted as muscle memory and finely tuned by the devices.
Burton had been sifting through the data for hours each night for the past week. He'd barely left the lab, other than supervising a class or two. The lab door hissed open without any knocking, he knew who that'd be.
"You look like shit." Shaw said before he even turned from the monitor. The chink of fine crystal tumblers on metal drew Burton's attention. He watched Shaw pull the cork free from the half drunk bottle of very good whiskey with his teeth.
"We drinking the last of the Pappy, it's not your birthday is it?" Burton never could remember other people's birthdays.
"Nope." Shaw poured them both a large drink, before swirling the glass and inhaling the rich aroma.
"Is it bad news?" Burton took his drink and forced himself to sip it. The smell instantly transported him back to the five star penthouse at The Grand. Back to Clara.
"I've been working on something. It's on my server, under 'weak link'." Shaw sat back with his glass, letting Burton to read.
Two more large whiskeys and an hour later, Burton turned away from the monitor. Lighting his daily cigarette. "You have been busy." Burton had underestimated just how much Shaw had learned.
"I've ran thousands of simulations." Shaw's research had been thorough.
"I see that." Burton had seen doctoral candidates pass with less.
"I had a good teacher." Shaw poured another drink. Burton tried to ignore the feeling of being flattered. "What do you think?" Shaw leant forward in his chair.
"It could kill you. Or worse." Burton led with his biggest concern, forgetting who he spoke too. Shaw literally laughed it off.
"I signed my life away at sixteen." Shaw became serious. "I'm a professional soldier Burton, I've faced far greater risks for far less reward."
"It won't be as efficient, even best case." Burton tried to be clear about the outcome.
"It's still worth it, even the fringe benefits. Not to mention the data it'll generate going forward." Shaw had a solid answer, but Burton sensed something else motivated his friend.
"You know you don't have to prove anything, or feel guilty." Burton and Shaw both carried their share of survivor guilt. Some of it deserved.
"It's not about that." Shaw sighed, frustrated. Then Burton remembered the file name.
"Weak link." Like turning a key, Burton had found his answer.
"I've sent men to their deaths Burton. More than I care to remember. And all for nothing. I will not send the...my...our children where I cannot follow. At least this way I can keep pace." Shaw had a grieving father's desperation to his voice.
"Andrew, we were supposed to have behavioural experts, neurologists, surgeons. Instead it's just us. We don't know what we don't know." Burton tried to dissuade his friend, despite empathising completely. The thought of the children in danger and being useless to them terrified him.
"Do you remember what I told you, that day?" Burton knew what he meant, the day the bombs fell. "I believe in you Burton." Shaw poured the last of whiskey from what could be the very last bottle into their glasses. "What do you say?" Burton took the offered glass, wondering if his friend may order him to carry out the procedure.
"Alright." Burton saw his agreement didn't make his friend happy, and took that as a good sign.
"Good. Now, if I'm going to be in a coma for six months, I say we get stinking drunk." Shaw went to get another bottle, inviting Burton to join him.
Burton spent a month looking for any concrete reason to call off what he'd begun to refer to as the Shaw protocol. He hadn't found one. Only that Shaw had learnt far more than he realised. He loaded the last of the required medical equipment onto a trolley and told the bot to wheel it to Shaw's quarters.
Inside the wooden floored and softly lit room, Shaw sat going through paperwork. "Last chance to call this off." Burton half joked from the doorway.
"A six month lie in, no chance." Shaw signed the last document and closed the folder. He stood. "Where do we start?" Burton took the hair clippers from the trolley and turned them on for a moment.
"Head, chest, and legs." He tossed the clippers to Shaw, amused with the discomfort at what would be the very least of the planned changes. "I can have the ex wife do it." Burton called out as Shaw sighed from the bathroom.
"No thanks." Shaw answered firmly.
"Better get to know her, she's your personal nurse and room mate." Burton checked the medical subroutines in the Assaultron one more time.
"Great." Shaw had seen the bot's true purpose, up close.
He emerged from the bathroom in his robe from The Grand, his head shaved. "I look like a fucking recruit." Shaw rubbed a hand over his head. "It better grow back." Burton laughed, catching a glimpse of his reflection. His own hair had thinned and begun to grey. Unlike Shaw, who's hairline had barely receded.
"Put those on." He handed Shaw a pack of two dozen electrode pads and helped stick them to his friend's head, back, chest, and legs. He held the wires while Shaw settled into the centre of his bed. The patterned sheets swapped for plain white medical grade ones.
"This might sting a little." Burton connected the last wire and triggered a highly charged pulse. Far higher than needed. Shaw twitched for a moment.
"Ow." He said with a sarcastic growl.
"Just testing." Burton's joke fell flat. "Here." Burton lit two cigarettes and passed one over. The tension and silence lingered like the smoke. "Last chance Andrew."
"It goes bad that bitch'll put me down quick enough." Shaw took one last drag and dropped the stub into the ashtray. He shifted to get comfortable. "I'm ready."
"Count back from ten." Burton administered a sedative into the iv line and waited for Shaw to slip into the induced coma.
"Open log, Shaw protocol." Burton spoke aloud to record his actions. "Day zero. Subject is under, vitals steady." He connected directly to Shaw's pipboy. The device, like his, restrained its functions. Until now. "Initiating nanofilament graft." With the press of a button, the device injected the ultra strong tendrils into Shaw's arm. "Initiation is clean, beginning mild shock pulses to prevent atrophy." Burton watched for minor twitches and checked Shaw's vitals to confirm. "Subject stable. Will reassess in twelve hours. End log."
Burton slumped back in his chair, conflicted. He could wake Shaw now, make something up. Part of him knew he should, part of him knew Shaw wouldn't be deterred. But most of all, he wanted to see if it would work.
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