Cerebral Exchange :: Chapter 12 :: SEDATED

There was nowhere else quite as relaxing throughout the hustle of the upper city as the soft grass that lay beneath the canopy of The Tylwyth Teg Forest. Developed by the botanical engineers of Druids & Fae to be the showcase of their landscaping technology, the forest inhabited a square mile on the top layer of the city. Everything about it was artificially regulated to perfectly imitate the woodlands of old. Every tree was quintessential, from the sturdiness of their bark to the thickness of their roots. Their leaves played with the light that illuminated the forest in all its unearthly tones. Even the weather was constantly set to that of a summer’s evening, leaving the grass comfortably warm and damp.

And then there was the miasma that wafted between the trees. There were limits imposed on the abilities of the pheromones department at Druids & Fae. Despite being the premier subcontractor for corporate botany, they were, at the end of the day, only a gardening company. The forest acted as a neutral zone for employees from all the major corporations, and those same corps probably wouldn’t take too kindly to their assets being stolen. So instead, the brilliant minds at Druids & Fae gently pushed the boundaries of what they could get away with, focusing more on relaxation and meditation than total neurological control.

Not that The Deliverator was at all affected by it. Being locked into a helmet that controls your oxygen intake has that advantage. This forest was where she liked to spend her downtime, mostly because its visitors were in too much of a chemically-induced daydream to pay her any attention. She had a favourite vantage point, sat atop the sprawling roots of a particularly large oak tree, right by the forest entrance. It allowed her to observe all those entering the forest and succumbing happily to its intoxicating mist. It didn’t matter if they wore the uniform of Synthicate, Tessiertronics, Elysian or even HexCorp; once they passed into the forest, their eyes glazed over all the same.

Watching them enter like this was akin to counting sheep - not that she was in any position to compare the humans below her to cattle. That role was entirely reserved for her Hive Mxtress.

Today was turning out a little differently from the usual, however. For once, she wasn’t the only visitor to The Tylwyth Teg Forest that appeared to be in a coherent state. Right by the entrance there were three figures, clad in black robes and eagerly attempting to get the attention of anyone who entered into the woodland. Their demeanor showed they were fully awake, unlike their stumbling targets who could barely comprehend them or the flyers that were being shoved in front of their faces. The Deliverator sighed and gracefully dropped down from her resting place. She supposed she should intervene.

Passing by the forest visitors, The Deliverator took her time to stare into their vacant faces. Lost to the ethereal tug of the forest, one by one they were sleepily pulled into the shadows of its canopy to rest and go empty. The pheromones would be their guide into the thicket, and when they were ready to leave it would gently lead them back out again. Everyone knew that the forest would turn you docile and comfort you into a trance of your own longing. She stepped in front of the three leaflet distributors - apparently they hadn’t got the memo.

“You know, the druids rarely reveal themselves, but they’re still known to wear brown robes, not black. And the Fae are these tiny, little robots that are harder to detect still.” The three figures turned their attention to the approaching drone and from under their hoods The Deliverator caught sight of their eerily perfect skin. “You need to work on being more inconspicuous.”

“We’re not trying to hide.” One of the figures spoke, but it felt like the words had come from all three of them. “We are the Children of the-”

“I know who you are. ” The Deliverator reached forward and swiped one of the leaflets from their unsuspecting hands. “Let’s see here… Three hundred trillion kilograms? My, you have been busy. Last time I checked in you’d just passed the trillion mark. What percentage of the planet does that make now?”

The three figures stood in silence for a moment. The Deliverator would have taken them for dumbstruck if she didn’t already know this was just how they calculated. “Progress is currently at 0.0000000005%, or five billionths as is more comprehensible for human minds. At the current rate of consumption we expect to hit 100% completion in approximately two decades’ time. How do you know who we are?”

“Certain characteristics that I’ve become accustomed to recognising. What is this anyway?” She further unraveled the flyer, her visor’s HUD immediately highlighting what it analysed to be the most vital information. “‘Soon all will become one within its hull. Surrender yourself and find peace within the glory of the Mass.’ Are you trying to start a religion?”

“We prefer the term ‘cult’.”

“Of course you do.” She carelessly folded the flyer back up and held onto it. Goodness knows she wasn’t going to litter in the forest - she knew better than to attract the wrath of the Fae. “This won’t work, you know? Organised religion isn’t exactly a thing anymore. Hadn’t you noticed literally everyone ignoring you? If you want to attract other bodies to your ‘cause’ there are better ways to go about it.”

“Like what? And not everyone ignores us.” The three figures peered up at her expectantly, and she could see their faces clearly now. Three identical faces, crafted from artificial skin. The Deliverator stared into the irises of their eyes – into that inky abyss – and the faraway red spark of The Mass stared back.

“You really think I would just give away that information? You’re the terrifying AI, you figure it out.” A message popped up on her HUD. Her Hive Mxtress was ordering her presence. “Well, looks like my break is over. You take your time in reassessing your approach though. Please. I insist.”

“We’ll speak again, drone.”

But the Deliverator was already silently walking away. What point would there be in refuting the inevitable?