voice | morning>day | 001>002

[lonelynotforsaken]

[ LO431Y | VOICE | 001 ]

[Martin's day isn't going well. And he's shouting as loudly as Squalo had been on the first communication. He's also very clearly running.]

May day! May day may day may day! Oh, god! Oh, god! May day! There's- Drone. Electricity spikes. Oh, god! East jungle. Close to shore!

[His responses to things may be delayed depending on whether or not he can escape the thing.]

Comments

[aluminumandash]

Yeah, I had a run-in. All but pinned me down. Which'd mean it's, ah, motion-detection, not heat-seeking? [ A rare note of uncertainty in his voice. ] Or someone on the other end. Seemed pretty fucking inhuman, though.

[salamanca]

But somebody has to maintain these things, right? They can't just take care of themselves. [ Can they?? He doesn't fucking know. Apparently everyone knows what a drone is but him. ]

So theoretically someone could be driving them too? Right? Or at least programming their paths, telling them what to do or where to go ahead of time.

[aluminumandash]

[ Since he figures learning about the drones'll help de Guzman steer the kid clear of them, Rust doesn't tell him to fuck off and go back to sleep. ]

That is how machines work.

[salamanca]

Okay, okay. Sorry. Jeez.

[ Another text, right after the other. ]

So what do we do? :(

[aluminumandash]

Wait and see if there's a body.

[cactusy]

They are. But DI4's right, everything that's electronic has a human involved somewhere.

[aluminumandash]

[ Indulging in some irritation: ] Obviously. I meant the way it moved. Unhesitating, unerring.

[cactusy]

Is this your first time seeing a drone in real life?

[aluminumandash]

[ A huffy: ] Uh-huh.

[ But soon enough he resumes his usual toneless drawl. ] So, what, they're programmed to surveil and detain [ he warps the word, sharp skepticism to it ] unauthorized visitors. What is this, some kinda top-secret paramilitary installation?

[cactusy]

There's a lot of things it could be.

[Including, for instance, a virtual reality simulation that exists entirely in her own head, but that's a little theory that she's going to just go ahead and keep to herself.]

Wouldn't rule out behavior experiments, either. Zimbardo two-point-oh.

[aluminumandash]

[ Consider: subjective human experience doesn't constitute reality anyway.

He thinks on it a long moment. ] Ah, I'd skew the hell out of that dataset. [ It'd never qualify as a joke, but there's a humorous strain to the words, a dip in his voice. ] What about you?

[cactusy]

Same. Hell, maybe that's the point.

[aluminumandash]

[ There's a pause. His thoughts are orderly, orderly enough for him to consider and discard them one by one. ] This isn't some kinda [ a vague hum before he settles on the word ] self-castigation ritual, trying to raise him on the walkie. I don't sleep, is the thing.

[cactusy]

Sounds like a great way to get dead.

[aluminumandash]

The alternatives ain't so hot either. Were they on hand.

Just telling you so you know what you're dealing with.

[cactusy]

Noted.