Son, I am disappoint. You got the whole 'new body' thing, but not the how of it. Hint: "ego barrier bilocated" is sort of important.
CD: In order: no, sort of, yes, yes, I actually was but you didn't see it, noted tubes (not subjects) up to XXIV, and I'm not Qwaar so heck no.
Jorlem: A linker core isn't a soul. It doesn't hold your consciousness; if it did, I'd be screwed. It's metaphysical, but not spiritual, if you get my drift. Also sort of vital, in a 'don't screw it up' sort of way.
What happened to mine was less 'capture and enhance', and more 'painfully demolish in a way that won't implode immediately'. That's what he did that hurt so much, earlier.
Dartz: For the sake of my sanity, I will just give this away. It is currently late in year 0059 of the New Calendar. Nanoha, Hayate, and Yuuno are three years old. Fate isn't finished, and Tre was decanted four years ago. I have two years until Quattro is finished.
EVERYBODY: Please stop talking about a certain cyborg that shares her number with a line of Audis. Her fate lies in your hands. :3
Also, the part of the agreement you heard included casting big spells. The Numbers are not mages. You can make an exception for the Type Zeroes, and they're all mana-powered, but none of them are designed to use magic.
I will not be a Number! I am a free man! (That's for you, nemonowan!)
**********
With that, the Doctor's keyboard changed. New keys appeared, the board dividing itself into sections as it grew. Over each section, another telltale appeared, each one monitoring some obscure medical detail. At the center of this menagerie was a display even I understood- a model of a human brain, rotating slowly about its axis. Even as I watched it spring into existence, the Doctor frowned, and it shifted modes- the physical model fading out, replaced by what looked like a dense network of blood vessels in the shape of a brain.
Another frown, and the model shifted again- this time to an intricate web of glowing lines. Even as I watched, the web shifted, some lines fading out, other ones shifting colors, and new ones sparking into life.
Father nodded, clearly satisfied at this. With a two-handed gesture, the representation exploded into sections, still rotating as though it were a single object. Another wave brought up a collection of similar scans, each one showing a different pattern. With his workplace established, the Doctor began to operate.
I didn't pay too much attention to the conversation between him and Uno- at this point, it was all medical terms, well beyond the basic combat medic skills I'd learned. What I did watch was the web of light hovering in front of the doctor, as it withered and died, section by section, in time with the glowing lights on the probes in Ford's head. Once all the light had faded, he closed the model with another swipe, and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"How marvelous. The ego border has reestablished itself perfectly! Wonderfully done, dear Uno!" With that, he turned his attention back to his monitors, ignoring the faint blush that appeared on Uno's face, and keyed in a sequence on one of the panels that had just appeared.
One of the many alcoves in the walls of the lab lit up, the magilights in its roof and corners almost instantly matching brightness with the rest of the room. Inside the alcove were three of the Doctor's human specimen jars. XXIII and XXIV were still empty, my future sisters only existing within our father's mind, but the third, unnumbered tube had a body floating in it... and a set of thick cables, not unlike the ones attached to the Chair, running to the computer core in the back of the room.
I had clearly missed something, because when I looked back over at my family, they were already engaged in a new procedure. It sounded just like the first stage of the procedure- a lot of synchronization, updating, and all that.
As Uno's numbers approached 100% again, the cage of blue light around Ford's chest flickered once. It was clearly noticed, as the duo began to work faster. Another brain model appeared, and the doctor began blanking out sections of it... this time, the lights on the computer core in the background flickered and died as he worked. The emergency field on Ford's body flickered a second time... and then again. Then a fourth time. The fifth time came even faster. By the time the doctor had finished shutting down the computer core, the field was dropping every two seconds or so, even as the hum of its generator orb crept up in pitch.
Father's voice cut through my growing sense of apprehension. "Commence magilink to artificial core!" A display appeared in front of the both of them; an outline of a ball, with glowing waves of light splashing across the edges of it from within, with dozens and dozens of red lines coming out from it to one side, fanning out, and then almost connecting to an equal number of horizontal lines. Even as I took that in, orange links appeared in two of the lines, turning red to green. Two by two, more and more connections were made, until the board showed two red strings- thicker strings- in a sea of green. One of them turned green momentarily, a link appearing on it for a fraction of a second, before going back to red. Then the other did the same, holding green for a little longer than the first.
For a few tense seconds, I watched the doctor and Uno work, the last two connections flicking between colors in their own time as their fingers danced across their keys. Finally, after who knows how many attempts, one of them caught- followed by the other, a hairs' breadth later. All three of us waited with bated breath, watching the display for any change.
...then, with a thrum of power, the ball on the display glowed bright. All the orange blocks linking the display together glowed, slimming down until they matched the lines they connected to. When the glow faded, the display showed nothing but uninterrupted green lines, brightly lit with power.
I let out a sigh- when had I held my breath?- as Uno brought up a spate of monitor windows, her eyes flicking from one to the other. Finally, after a second or three, she closed them all, and relaxed, smiling faintly in relief. "...he's stable. Operation successful!"
Our father's mirth echoed off the walls of the lab.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
CD: In order: no, sort of, yes, yes, I actually was but you didn't see it, noted tubes (not subjects) up to XXIV, and I'm not Qwaar so heck no.
Jorlem: A linker core isn't a soul. It doesn't hold your consciousness; if it did, I'd be screwed. It's metaphysical, but not spiritual, if you get my drift. Also sort of vital, in a 'don't screw it up' sort of way.
What happened to mine was less 'capture and enhance', and more 'painfully demolish in a way that won't implode immediately'. That's what he did that hurt so much, earlier.
Dartz: For the sake of my sanity, I will just give this away. It is currently late in year 0059 of the New Calendar. Nanoha, Hayate, and Yuuno are three years old. Fate isn't finished, and Tre was decanted four years ago. I have two years until Quattro is finished.
EVERYBODY: Please stop talking about a certain cyborg that shares her number with a line of Audis. Her fate lies in your hands. :3
Also, the part of the agreement you heard included casting big spells. The Numbers are not mages. You can make an exception for the Type Zeroes, and they're all mana-powered, but none of them are designed to use magic.
I will not be a Number! I am a free man! (That's for you, nemonowan!)
**********
With that, the Doctor's keyboard changed. New keys appeared, the board dividing itself into sections as it grew. Over each section, another telltale appeared, each one monitoring some obscure medical detail. At the center of this menagerie was a display even I understood- a model of a human brain, rotating slowly about its axis. Even as I watched it spring into existence, the Doctor frowned, and it shifted modes- the physical model fading out, replaced by what looked like a dense network of blood vessels in the shape of a brain.
Another frown, and the model shifted again- this time to an intricate web of glowing lines. Even as I watched, the web shifted, some lines fading out, other ones shifting colors, and new ones sparking into life.
Father nodded, clearly satisfied at this. With a two-handed gesture, the representation exploded into sections, still rotating as though it were a single object. Another wave brought up a collection of similar scans, each one showing a different pattern. With his workplace established, the Doctor began to operate.
I didn't pay too much attention to the conversation between him and Uno- at this point, it was all medical terms, well beyond the basic combat medic skills I'd learned. What I did watch was the web of light hovering in front of the doctor, as it withered and died, section by section, in time with the glowing lights on the probes in Ford's head. Once all the light had faded, he closed the model with another swipe, and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"How marvelous. The ego border has reestablished itself perfectly! Wonderfully done, dear Uno!" With that, he turned his attention back to his monitors, ignoring the faint blush that appeared on Uno's face, and keyed in a sequence on one of the panels that had just appeared.
One of the many alcoves in the walls of the lab lit up, the magilights in its roof and corners almost instantly matching brightness with the rest of the room. Inside the alcove were three of the Doctor's human specimen jars. XXIII and XXIV were still empty, my future sisters only existing within our father's mind, but the third, unnumbered tube had a body floating in it... and a set of thick cables, not unlike the ones attached to the Chair, running to the computer core in the back of the room.
I had clearly missed something, because when I looked back over at my family, they were already engaged in a new procedure. It sounded just like the first stage of the procedure- a lot of synchronization, updating, and all that.
As Uno's numbers approached 100% again, the cage of blue light around Ford's chest flickered once. It was clearly noticed, as the duo began to work faster. Another brain model appeared, and the doctor began blanking out sections of it... this time, the lights on the computer core in the background flickered and died as he worked. The emergency field on Ford's body flickered a second time... and then again. Then a fourth time. The fifth time came even faster. By the time the doctor had finished shutting down the computer core, the field was dropping every two seconds or so, even as the hum of its generator orb crept up in pitch.
Father's voice cut through my growing sense of apprehension. "Commence magilink to artificial core!" A display appeared in front of the both of them; an outline of a ball, with glowing waves of light splashing across the edges of it from within, with dozens and dozens of red lines coming out from it to one side, fanning out, and then almost connecting to an equal number of horizontal lines. Even as I took that in, orange links appeared in two of the lines, turning red to green. Two by two, more and more connections were made, until the board showed two red strings- thicker strings- in a sea of green. One of them turned green momentarily, a link appearing on it for a fraction of a second, before going back to red. Then the other did the same, holding green for a little longer than the first.
For a few tense seconds, I watched the doctor and Uno work, the last two connections flicking between colors in their own time as their fingers danced across their keys. Finally, after who knows how many attempts, one of them caught- followed by the other, a hairs' breadth later. All three of us waited with bated breath, watching the display for any change.
...then, with a thrum of power, the ball on the display glowed bright. All the orange blocks linking the display together glowed, slimming down until they matched the lines they connected to. When the glow faded, the display showed nothing but uninterrupted green lines, brightly lit with power.
I let out a sigh- when had I held my breath?- as Uno brought up a spate of monitor windows, her eyes flicking from one to the other. Finally, after a second or three, she closed them all, and relaxed, smiling faintly in relief. "...he's stable. Operation successful!"
Our father's mirth echoed off the walls of the lab.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.