The Forge Region
Station: State War Academy
Cages rattled and vibrated when the thick doors opened. The vault was large, blast proof, and sound transmission was null. Nothing in and out without the capsuleer’s complete approval, encrypted code, voice print, embedded biochip, and biosecurity scans. This was her most important activity where she let her maternal instincts fully come to the surface.
“Oh, my sweet dears,” she cooed gently, petting their beautiful, sweet heads. “Mommy had such a long day of teaching and instruction with those obstinate, arrogant brats. I just needed to come see my perfect babies.” All the chittering and chattering of her hazy eyed pets made her feel needed. She barely noticed the stench.
Lesha stopped at each cage and gave her attention to each one in turn. Stroking their hair, squeezing their faces, checking their vitals. “Perfect health makes for a happy, playful life,” she encouraged. “Oh, my darlings, you all make me so happy. Are you ready for dinner?” Her sing song voice carried from the entrance to the back wall.
She lifted a small device hanging around her neck and blew a soft tone. All eight of her special ones placed their heads in the designed support through the cage bars. The system registered the act and restricted their trained movements with a neck stock that closed. It held them in place.
An automated process began. Mechanical arms retracted the attached technology in their neck spinal sockets, and another arm inserted a device, an extractor, that retrieved the stored essence of their long learning projects. Lesha walked by each cage and retrieved the glowing blue devices gingerly, placing them in a satchel. “Very good, my sweetlings, very good.”
When finished, accessing the display by the door, she touched the control to release a cocktail of intravenous drugs, and the grouped murmured with deep pleasure. The next round of skill projects injected into their systems, and the sockets reconnected for access to their virtual, play world. The process was smooth, calming, and routine.
Dinner released from the wall feeders, and the stock devices detached allowing them their freedom. Scurrying to their food and water, the infoclones gobbled and drank their fill. Once done some relieved themselves over the automated waste hatches in the floor, others crawled to their floor mats with grunts and moans, returning to their false reality.
“Good night, my lovelies,” Lesha said softly. The door closed slowly with a quiet thud as she gazed into her satchel, the blue glow of the extractors reflected in her dilated pupils.