The Global Fellowship: Prelude to The Infinitus Saga

8 - Finally

The next day, Manuela pops up as I'm brushing my teeth in the bathroom. "How are you feeling this morning, Arthur?"

"Okay." I try to rub the stiffness out of my neck. Damn Joe had to go and stress me out. Who the hell from North Continent would still know my parents?

"Are you still benefiting from your medication?"

"Yeah, it's fine." I spit out my toothpaste and rinse my mouth out. "Why? What's up?"

"Today is a very big day." Her smile is smaller than normal.

"What does that mean?" I laugh and turn towards her as I dry my hands. "And what's up with you? I didn't think AIs had down days."

"I never know what to expect from humans during transitions. You are all so different."

"What are you saying?"

She flips instantly to a radiant smile. "Today is your first day of server duty. And your first day of transitioning into permanent housing."

"Oh." Wow. Thank God I got Mom and Dad's ashes to Joe yesterday. That must have been why she was pestering me. "Well, that's great! Manni ... I'm excited about this. I want to see how well I can support ..." Gina. "Myself. You know? I've never been able to do that before."

"Of course." She nods with a smile. "I have directions here to the server farm where you will be connected for the first time."

"Is it different from where they tested my connection?" I walk to the display screen in the bedroom.

"You don't need the mirror, silly. You can pull up the GRID interface just by thinking about it now."

"Oh, yeah." I decide to close my eyes, so it's not as disorienting. Whoa. This is awesome. Wait. "Holy crap. Why the hell is it so far away? Aren't there server farms close to here?"

"There are," she says, appearing in my mind this time, "but this one is closer to your final placement."

"What about my medicine?"

"They will have that ready for you when you arrive."

"Manni, be honest." I sigh. "How is my connection doing? Does it lag because of the EDS?"

"Are you experiencing any anomalies?"

"No, nothing on my end. I just really want this to work."

"Honestly, Arthur, you are a star performer. We'll have to see more with a longer-term session, but so far your processing speed is above average."

"Awesome. It's nice to finally be good at something. Should I pack up my stuff?"

"No need. Your belongings will be transferred for you, just as before."

"Okay. Great." I grab my assigned jacket and head out the door.

~~~

After taking an autobus all the way to District F, I get off at the job site. The buildings seem ominous, huge and black. A cold shiver runs down my spine.

Don't be a baby. Get Mom out of your head. Joe was just freakin' you out.

Whoa, the buildings here are at least 40 stories tall! They form some kind of giant complex. The glass on their exterior is a flat black and I can't see anything inside.

I summon my courage with a deep breath and walk through the front doors. The overhead speaker announces my arrival. I've gotten used to buildings registering my CID when I walk in over the last few days. For such an enormous building, the waiting room is incredibly small. All four chairs look uncomfortable, but I don't get a chance to sit down.

"This way," a short brunette in gray scrubs says after appearing from a door to my right.

"Okay." I try to sound confident. "Manuela said that you guys have my meds?"

"We'll get you taken care of." She smiles.

I jump slightly when I hear the door click loudly behind us. You think I'd be used to that from Manuela, but this feels different.

Wow, Mom's done a number on me.

I'm led into a small GRIDserver room. Two other people are already here—walking along on treadmills with empty expressions. This looks like what I expected. I've heard about this. They're run on an exercise program while the GRID borrows their brains for a bit.

"Am I starting work today?"

"Yes. The doctor will be right with you." She leaves and I stand awkwardly in the room with the dead-eyed workers.

The doctor that comes in is a huge, dark-skinned man in really dark purple scrubs. He looks grim. "Good morning, Arthur." He holds a hand out towards the treadmill. "Step on up for me."

When I do, he hooks patient monitors to my chest and a silicone pad to my cheek—like when they tested my connection speed. I take an instinctive step back when a needle on a robotic arm extends from the wall in front of me.

"No need to be afraid." He resists my flight with a hand on my back.

"What's that for?"

"It's just going to run an IV line. We don't want you to get dehydrated."

I swallow down my fear as I let the machine connect me to the IV system, but I start to feel panicky. This isn't right! Lots of people have told me what working at the servers is like. No one ever mentioned an IV.

"We're going to start your session now. Do you have any questions?"

"How long is my shift? I didn't get my meds yet."

"That depends on how you do," he says, getting that glassy-eyed look. "No need to worry. We'll run your medications through the IV, and you won't remember anything from your session. You'll just feel like you're waking up when it's over."

That didn't answer my question. I'm about to ask again when he activates the program.