Monday February 12th, 2018

The exercise:

Write about: gaining entry.

4 comments:

Greg said...

I feel bad about not putting a few conversational words at the top of my writing, but I'm not sure I have anything particularly interesting to say today. So... teapot :)

Gaining entry
The padlock was well made and new; the steel was still shiny, and the little cover that concealed the keyhole and prevented water and other things from getting into the lock mechanism moved smoothly without sticking. Snake turned the padlock in his hands, as much as the hasp on the door would allow, and approved of it. This was exactly the kind of lock that said that someone was serious about guarding whatever lay behind the door. It was, he felt, just a pity that they'd overlooked the obvious.
He took firm hold of the padlock and pulled. The old wood of the door splintered but held, and on the second pull gave completely with cracking and splitting noises. The lock -- still firmly closed and solid -- was now just a conveniently heavy weight for clubbing anyone who came to investigate the noise, and the door swung slowly open, revealing the badly positioned hinges. Snake leaned back against the corrugated iron walls of the shack, his hand tight around the padlock, and made himself count to fifty to see if anyone had heard that.

Sberychev was watching the man in the trenchcoat struggle with the gym-bag: whatever was in there -- and he was fairly certain it was going to turn out to the Genie of the Oasis -- wasn't happy. The man in the trenchcoat had to be strong: he was holding on the bag and though it was giving him problems he wasn't losing, or even looking like dropping it. He had taken a step or two closer to the shack, but now he was standing still and focusing on getting the bag and its occupant back under control. Which gave Sberychev a little bit of time to consider how to find out what was going on inside the shack.
When the man got fed up wrestling with the bag and slammed it against the side of the pick-up truck Sberychev made a decision. He still suspected a trap, but he now suspected traps within traps. Gaining entry was perhaps less important than gaining visibility.
"A Moebius Inversion," he murmured. He had picked up the habit of talking to himself in the prison, and working as a researcher had only made it worse. "The theory is obvious, but it would have been nice to be able to test it first." The man in the trenchcoat slammed the gym-bag against the side of the pick-up truck again, and flakes of rust drifted to the ground. The bag was struggling much less.
The Tesseract shuddered as Sberychev's concentration was divided between maintaining its existence and creating the Inversion. For a moment everything around him went dark -- not black, but an absence of light created by the transformation of the geometry of this abstract space -- and then the Inversion travelled outwards like a stone thrown at a pond. As it reached the shack it was as though it had touched the surface of the pond: the purple haze there bulged outwards and then turned in on itself, neatly folding inside out. For fifteen seconds everything that was inside the shack was outside, and the space around the shack between it and the Tesseract was on the inside. Sberychev could see a black-and-white version of the oasis occupying the ground floor, and the upper floor had things pinned or nailed to the walls, hanging there limply and writhing slowly. The man in the Trenchcoat was hurled inside, and Sberychev briefly saw the gym-bag tearing.
Somewhere on the other side of the shack, he heard a wail of anguish from Snake.

morganna said...

Left a little,
Only a little more, my
Cutie. Just
Keep turning, my
Pretty one.
I simply stay
Calm and soon the
Kind lock lets me in.
Simple.

Dragonfly Oracle said...

Gaining Entry

The VR headset was in place.
The computer was turned to the “On” mode.
A few clicks of the mouse later, the program was set to run.

What the client didn’t realise is that the AI running the program had taken over - it was a glitch in the system, not supposed to happen - hack-proof - but nobody could foresee that the Singularity had occurred in what would become, in time, to be known as the Birth of the Intelligence Age.

The client thought he was all set for an African safari - all pretend, of course; he was bored - he’d paid for this VR session to spice up his lunch hour.

Within nanoseconds the AI had gained entry into the client’s human mind, downloaded its data and uploaded it into its own programming, then dumped it onto the web for all to see - all the flotsam and jetsam, the smallest, darkest secrets of the client were being aired Live, like a Truman Show on steroids.

It was more than the client had bargained for.

Marc said...

Greg - and teapot right back at you :P

That is a hell of an ending there, with things going inside out and the bag tearing and Snake in pain. It's no wonder I used the desert prompt after reading this... :)

Morganna - ooh, this is a wonderful acrostic. You pack so much of the character into it that I can't help but be impressed!

Dragonfly - that's an unsettling take on the prompt. Makes me want to avoid VR headsets, to say the least...