Boiled replied, “I’m the only one endowed with the right to arrest him as a suspect and material witness. The paperwork has all been approved by the Broilerhouse already.”
Faceman furrowed his brow as if he were troubled by something. “Does your accomplice, who’s trying his best to invade the facility as we speak, know any of this? No, we’re talking about you. I’m sure you’ve told him the exact opposite.”
“Only as a means to efficiently ensure that he’s as useful as possible. A tactic used often in the army—or this facility.”
“There are means that are justified by the ends, and there are means that aren’t,” replied Faceman.
“I have no time for—or interest in—your moral lectures.”
Faceman sighed and spoke in a persuasive tone of voice that was also a warning. “Here at the facility we are constantly updating, examining, and refining our technology. All we did was permit Dr. Easter a loan of some of our facilities in exchange for the latest set of data he has on his civilian subjects.”
“So you admit to harboring a material witness?”
“It’s your choice to interpret my words however you choose,” said Faceman.
Boiled nodded. “Now, my second question.” He stared at Faceman with absolute indifference.
“Wait a moment. I’ll answer your questions, but in return I’d like you to sit down. You’re not positioned well, and I can’t see you properly.”
Boiled moved his chin from left to right. Not to respond, but to interrupt. “I need you to answer my question.”
“Hmm?”
“We will take custody of the data that Dr. Easter submitted to you.”
“You can’t really call that a question. In any case, what do you want that girl’s data for?”
“It could turn out to be a crucial courtroom exhibit.”
“Highly unlikely. Dear, dear. First Tweedledee, now you…” Boiled’s eyebrows tightened. Faceman continued, “Tweedledee wants access to the girl’s data too. Of course, I’m forbidding all access to it on the basis that I and a select group of researchers need exclusive access to it at the moment. And you’re just like Tweedledee.”
“What are you trying to say?” asked Boiled.
“It seems like you might be looking for a partner, just as Tweedledee is.”
Boiled stared at Faceman with a sharp glint in his eye. “The technology in Paradise only begets monsters. All that’s happened is that we have another walking, talking exhibit of this fact.”
“You’re right in that today’s society may well interpret it that way. One day, though, the technology will become commonplace,” Faceman responded coolly. “But looking at her data isn’t going to help you.”
“It’ll be evidence that she abused Mardock Scramble 09.”
“You won’t have any luck there. From a legal standpoint, it’s already difficult to judge what’s use and what’s abuse.”
“What—?”
“The girl is still growing up. Any current data on her is no more than material for a comparative study. The girl is a genius.”
“A genius? In battle?”
“No, in her ability to dissolve herself into the ether. ‘Dispersing her self-consciousness,’ I’m calling it for now.”
“‘Dispersing’?”
“The waveforms we’ve been picking up from her brain in her consciousness-threshold tests are very similar to those found when a person enters a trance state. I daresay it’s a form of autoimmune response, the dispersal and negation of her senses as a self-defense mechanism—something that the girl has developed in order to preserve a sense of psychological normalcy in the face of the atrocious conditions that life has thrown at her.”
“In what way?” said Boiled.
“As you know, one of the most common side effects of grafting metallic fiber as replacement skin onto a person is that their mental balance ends up shot to pieces. Just as if we were to transplant, say, a bat’s ears onto a human head—the animal would be bewildered and its brain wouldn’t be able to cope,” said Faceman.
“But you’re saying that this girl is coping with the technology?”
“Her Interference Rate—all her consciousness-threshold figures—are over 80 percent.”
Boiled was silent. This was a rare moment where he was actually shocked by what his opponent had to say.
“The fibers are embedded in the whole of her skin tissue. As her subconscious receives stimuli, so the fibers develop autonomously. The fibers we transplanted into your palm never even grew to the back of your hand. Think on that, and you’ll realize just quite how singular a being this young lady is.”
“So she’s wrapped in a layer of skin tissue?”
“No, not ‘wrapped’—it’s assimilated perfectly. In time, it could extend to her mouth, the back of her eyelids, even some of her internal organs.”
“Impossible.” Boiled’s voice rose, ever so slightly. Boiled noticed his own reaction, and it surprised him.
“I didn’t want to believe it myself, but it’s the truth. An incredible truth born out of the confluence of three factors: Dr. Easter’s innovative technical developments, the existence of Oeufcoque, and the girl’s upbringing. That’s why we wanted her data at all costs, and that’s why we let them use our labs in return.”
“It’s a fairly straightforward auxiliary function to give a brain the electronic interference abilities of a snarc, though?”
“Yes, but the same paintbrush wielded by two different hands produces two entirely different paintings. Some people are natural artists, others show no trace of talent despite the best tuition in the world. This is just like that. What’s unique about this girl’s snarc is a truly astounding level of concentration, her ability to focus her consciousness in on a narrow point, and her ability to diffuse all her senses. Theoretically the human body has the ability to respond to its own suggestions, manipulating its own senses at will. To feel warm when it wants to feel warm, to feel cold when it wants to feel cold, to feel nothing when it wants to feel nothing—even extend its control over its own inner workings. Through a deliberate program of training the subconscious, the body should be able to grasp everything that is happening all around it, intuitively, on a subconscious level,” said Faceman.
“Theory is one thing, practice is quite another. There’s no way that such a thing could actually exist—an ordinary person able to manipulate their senses on demand.”
This made Faceman laugh. “The origins of your own PseudoGravitational Float were fairly innocuous at first, if you remember—it started off as technology designed to help people cope with heights. Wasn’t it you yourself who mastered that technology so that you could walk across any surface, including ceilings and walls, at will? When I say that her data will be useless to you, I mean that it’d be impossible to try and extrapolate any general conclusions from it, just as it’s impossible to predict how she is likely to develop next.”
“Still—her organic data, at least, will be of some use.”
“Even that’s completely unquantifiable at the moment,” replied Faceman.
“Are you using FES?”
Faceman nodded. “Functional Electronic Stimulus treatment is being applied to her whole body. The original plan was to program her nervous system electronically in order to cure her of paralysis in her limbs, but…”
“So why is that unquantifiable?”
“Her skin tissue is already in the process of assimilating with her cerebellum. Of course, you could say that it’s the skin tissue that is influencing the brain, rather than the other way around.”