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Dev felt a little fear.  Was this who she was going to be assigned to?

“This is Commandant Bricker, of Interforce.” Doctor Doss said. “Do you know what that is, Dev? Have you had that program?”

“Yes, sir, I do.” Dev said.

“Good.” The doctor said. “So you know how important Interforce is, right? They protect us from all the people who are trying to hurt those of us in the Republic, don’t they.”

“Yes, sir.” Dev said. “They’re very brave.” She added, unprompted.

Bricker produced a faint smile.

“That’s right.” Doss agreed. “Well, Dev, we have a wonderful opportunity to help the commandant and all those brave people.  They have a job, a tech job, and they came to us to see if we could help them, if we had someone who could do that job.”

“Sir.”  Dev felt her breathing go a little faster.  She was afraid, and she wasn’t. “I don’t know how to be brave.”

That got another brief, crabbed smile from Bricker.  “We can teach you that.” He said, his low, burring voice tickling her ears.  “If you have the heart for it.”

Dev looked at him, and their eyes met.  Again, she was afraid and not, because she could see something real there, something interesting and complex that reminded her a little of some of her history lessons.

Some of the people she’d seen there.  “Sir.” She murmured.

“We have some programs to give you, Dev, that will help you learn what to do, so you can help the commandant.  So I want you to go with the proctor and get started. We don’t have a lot of time. They need you very badly.”

“Sir.” Dev replied.  “I’ll do the best I can.”

Doss smiled at her, a real smile. “I know you will.” He gave the proctor a nod. “Robin, you know what to do.  Let’s get started.”

“Right away, sir.”  The proctor touched Dev’s shoulder. “Let’s go, Dev.  You’ve got lots to learn.”  He guided her out of the office and the door slid shut behind them.

Doss leaned back against his desk, and watched the director out of the corner of his eye. “I know she’s young, and probably not what you were looking for.” He said.

“No.”  Bricker sat back down. “Frankly, I had no idea what I was looking for. “ He said. “You people give me the creeps and I won’t lie about it.”

“Well, if we had more time..” Doss temporized. “We could breed something up for you, to your specifications but you said..”

“I know. I said I needed them now.”  Bricker cut him off.  “But as it happens, I think this one might be all right.  I didn’t want a soldier.”

“Oh. Well good.”  Doss sat down behind his desk.

“We don’t’ want programmable soldiers.”  The director said. “Because it’s just as easy for someone else to program them.  After our training they’re damned destructive, and damned expensive for us to maintain.”

“I see.” The doctor murmured, who actually didn’t see. “I’m not really sure, then…”

“You don’t need to be sure.” The director said. “Just give me what I ask for, and I’ll take it from there. “

**

Dev sat in the programming room, her legs dangling over the side of the body shaped couch.  The sensor grid was cocked and in place over the head of it, and across the room the tech was busy setting up the boards.

It was a quiet chamber.  The walls were dimly lit and a soft green color, and the light in the room was a soothing light amber.  She knew it was designed to make her relax, but even knowing that, she felt her stomach in knots and her mouth dry as a paper.

She’d been in here many times before, of course.  Here, or in one of the many chambers like it on this level where she’d gotten her basic, and then advanced skill programming over the years.  It was in this chamber, in fact that she’d gotten her first tech programming skill, waking to a delight of knowledge she’d run right to the sim lab and explored.

This, though, was different.

“Lay down, please.” The tech instructed.  “The programmer is coming in. “

Dev took a deep breath and swiveled her body, putting her feet up on the gentle slope and her head down under the sensor grid.    She watched as it slowly descended, the nodes settling over her head in familiar spots.

She felt the faint twitch as they synced and she took a breath and released it, forcing her hands to relax on the soft surface as the tech came over and adjusted the couch a little.

He had a digital pad on his arm. “Biological Alternative, set 0202-164812, instance NM-Dev-1?”

“Yes.” Dev agreed. “That’s me.”

The tech nodded. “Okay, just relax for me please. I’m going to test the grid. It might tickle.”

Dev closed her eyes, and immediately felt the faint twitchy/tickling sensation as the grid came live, sending testing pulses through her head.  A flare of colored light behind her eyes, the scent of fruit, the sound of a gong, all without anything audible or truly visible.  “Blue, apple, bell.” She said, after they’d died down.

“Excellent.” The tech patted her arm.  Then he wrapped a sensor around her wrist, and gently tapped the center of her forehead. “Go down for me please.  Let the system take over. Let go.”

And having no choice, Dev did.  She felt a weight lift off her chest, and she focused on the soft echoes of the gong still chiming in her mind, the chimes now coming in the pattern of her heartbeat.

Deeper. Slower.

She was down.

The tech consulted a reading, watching the face under the grid of sensors relax and go still, the slim and toned body easing into compliance, hands uncurling, fingers easing out.

He adjusted a few settings., half turning as the door opened behind him. “She’s down.”

The programmer settled behind the console. “Thanks.” He said, with a sigh. “Damned last minute admin crap.”  He settled his hands on the controls and reviewed the display, eyes flicking back and forth in absorption.  “Wow.” He said, after a minute. “Didn't expect to see this.”

The tech trotted around and looked over his shoulder. “That’s military.” He said, flatly. “I’ve seen stuff like that in the pilot set.”

The programmer nodded. “Yeah, this one’s being sent to Interforce.” He perked up. “Hey, maybe they’re finally figuring out just how useful these guys are to  them.  Could be a big new contract.”

“But on her model?”  The tech pointed. “Gonna cute them to death?”

“Tech.”  The programmer started to work, setting parameters.  “All tech side.  This is a lot though. Hope that thing can handle it.”  He picked up a sensor helmet and put it on, adjusting the leads with expert hands.  “Okay, stand by.”

The tech went to the monitoring station and settled in, adjusting the monitors to watch the steady biological readouts.  “She’s good.”

The programmer glanced briefly at the couch, then went back to his screens, eyes going to deep focus as he put his fingers over the digital sensors and exhaled.

The room faded out. He activated his helmet display and it flickered to life, a spiderweb of lightning shot tracers forming in his mind’s eye, a digital recreation of the mind under the grid.  From long experience, he navigated through the pulses, knowing where he was by patiently taught instinct as he found the familiar areas of thought and reason.

It was good when they were young like this one. There was plenty of storage for him to set his code into, the pulses were gentle and regular and less of a chance of him screwing something up.

It happened.

He found the spot he wanted, and settled down, calling up the programming codes and feeding them in as that oldest of languages, electrical binary.

Yes or no.  On or off.  Building blocks of data that would slowly be made more complex but started out in a very basic way, changing thoughts and patterns.  Changing what would be perceived as instinct to a different bias.