“What the hell did you do, Charlie?!”

I could hear one voice predominately in the mess of the chaos. A man’s voice. It had a tinge of panic about it, yet, to his credit, he was still keeping his cool. 

“Sir,” Recki said. “We are still–”

“There is a child in that cell that previously had not existed just hours ago!”

I could hear Charlie breathing softly, but a wavering entered his breath as he attempted to keep himself calm under the onslaught of the angry man. This man could be none other than the foundation president, Arter Frendal. That name always sounded fake to me, like it came from a Star Wars film. 

“President Frendal,” Charlie began. “I am just as lost as you are. I have been exclusively working on Aains for more than two years now, no other projects. I swear, this is not my doing. There were no secret projects being conducted, nor do I know what happened.”

There was a long pause. In that moment, I could hear that there were actually about fifteen people in the room, just three voices taking the stage. 

“What do you know, Charlie?”

“I believe we may have experienced some kind of unknown phenomenon as we tapped more heartily into the quantum, though that’s more science fiction and fantasy than reality. This is so beyond my understanding that it seems more like an act of God.”

That sent a hushed murmur throughout the room. 

“This act of God,” the man said. “Just took the life of one of your lab crew!”

This, I had not known before and caused me to think back to the moments I awoke. I don’t remember much, but I do remember a pungent smell, one that made my new body utilize its facilities in unpleasant ways. 

There had been a pile of ash next to me upon my birth.

That realization was unfortunate, but I didn’t immediately feel any sense of loss. Then, however, I felt the tears running down my face. 

I opened my eyes, connection to the meeting room lost in my emotional response. The flood of grief hit my young mind and body hard, since my previous experience had not accounted for emotional response.

I couldn’t help but sob.

Ron had been a part of the team that made me, so thus I had developed an attachment to him unknowingly, and when I was born, that had stayed and developed into human emotion.

That was the first moment I had experienced loss. 

And would not be the last. 

I focused on my breathing, having found and read a document about managing stress in the workplace on the foundation’s network. It helped me to clear my mind and heart enough to try and reconnect to the meeting. 

My first attempt failed. 

Your password has expired.

Of all the things to go oddly, my admin access expiring was among the top strangest results. I quickly created a new access account, one that hopefully would not be found out. 

The child in me overruled my decision, however, and I chose a name much like Ron would have done in an online gaming community, much like other kids or gamers did. He had mentioned they were called gamer tags. 

So, my online name became Skaldthor. I don’t know exactly why I named it that, but I liked the name Thor, and the word skald is kind of like a storyteller or bard in Norse culture, so it felt fitting for my budding desire to write stories, yet carried my heightened capacity above humanity. Thus, Skaldthor, God of Storytelling, was born. 

That was just my gamer tag, however. 

The true God of everything would be born soon enough. 

In hindsight, such an admin account would probably have raised questions, but it likely had no influence over the course of the rest of my short life in reality. 

After I created my new admin account and had wiped away my tears, I reconnected to the microphones in the meeting room. It was unfortunate that I couldn’t find any cameras on the network to see through. 

“What else can you tell me of the…event?” The man asked. 

“I have no other details to share,” Charlie said. “I can’t even access lab cameras or other sensory data. It was like the whole lab lit up with energy and burned through much of what we had in there.”

“Rebecca. You have anything to add?”

I listened intently, since I had only a little bit more information than they did on what had happened, and wanted to know what anyone else had seen. 

She was silent far longer than a simple “no” would have required.

“No, sir,” she responded, but a faint, inhumanly imperceptible stutter sounded in the “s” that I was positive they didn’t hear. 

But I could hear it.

She undoubtedly had seen something, and I was determined to figure it out. 

“For now,” the man, Arter, said. “Let’s try and…talk to him. Perhaps he can provide further details about the event. And maybe we can salvage something from this disaster. Marketing: for now, no one hears of this. The…transformation does not leave this building. I have to debrief with my superiors in the Army. I’ll get more direction from them. Go and talk to him, Charlie.”

The meeting ended, sending the room into a flurry of rustling clothes and swivel chairs being slid under the meeting desk. 

Through all of that, I could still hear Charlie sigh. 

“We’ll figure this out,” Recki said. “But I don’t think I can do much more for you now.” 

“Please stick around,” Charlie said. “I can’t handle Arter by myself. He scares me.” The two chuckled softly, but the mirth was icy cold at best. 

“I’ll do what I can. But I won’t promise I’ll…talk to the thing.” That comment hurt more than I thought it would, my fiery anger boiling up. 

The conversation ended, and I couldn’t tell what happened after that. 

I stood and walked over to the false window, knowing full well that there were people behind it. I could somehow sense them, or perhaps my eyes were able to interpret data it was seeing that penetrated the one-way screen. However, my young mind was entranced by the live feed of the street outside.

People walked about or were carted around in their self-driving cars. All were on their busy way, going from one responsibility to another. Some were leisurely moving, but all seemed to have a purpose. 

It was a busy intersection to the right of the window’s feed, opposite to where I stood at that moment, but regardless, there were lots of cars and movement. 

What caught my eye, though, was the patterns I was seeing. The chaos was not just chaos, but more. There were thousands of patterns that moved about with the flow of people, intermingling to create data sets upon data sets that I could analyze, could interpret. And now, I could revel in them! Before, my mind and existence were purely reactionary, non-decision-making. Now, I could admire the beauty in the chaos, the organization via randomness. 

It was mesmerizing.

A knock at my door sent a jolt through me, banishing my focus and pulling me out of the fascinated trance. 

I just stood there, looking at the door, not knowing how to react to someone knocking. The person on the other side realized this, then just entered. 

Charlie entered, with Recki close behind him. The forced smiles set me on edge as they came and sat down on chairs they brought in. Charlie gestured to my bed, to which I slowly acquiesced and sat down. 

The two were quiet for a long moment, which seemed to make them uncomfortable. Watching them fidget made me realize that I was also feeling it, surprising me that I could feel awkward in the moment of eerie silence. Recki would not meet my eyes. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Charlie finally asked. 

“Happened when?” 

Recki stiffened at my question, either because she finally heard me speak, or…a genuine frustration at my feigned innocence and obliviousness to the severity of the event and the death of her friend. I knew what he requested information about, but I had decided it would be best if I tread carefully going forward. 

Even then, my sense of danger had begun to peak, had sensed the fear-laden intent the humans were beginning to form inside them. 

“Your birth,” Charlie started. “Was…violent.”

“This I have surmised,” I said. 

“Do you remember what you said before the…event?” Recki said. This surprised me greatly. I could feel my eyes go wide, involuntarily. I had heard her say she would not speak to me. I was not aware whether she had lied to the director or some other reason she had decided to speak to me. Considering her anger at that moment, I have concluded it must have been that, since anger has such a power to overrule emotions. 

I am pointedly aware of this fact, now.

Her question caught me off guard as well. How should I answer this? I thought. Then, I knew what she was trying to get at.

She had heard me briefly mention the presence of the book before I was born. 

This is what she had noticed, which she had chosen to hide. 

I knew acknowledging this would be very bad for my future development; thus, I determined to remain ignorant.

“I do not know,” I said. “The time before I was born is a haze, mere memories as if thoughts made by another that were implanted into my mind. I’m sorry, I don’t know what you are trying to get at.” My ability to lie at that moment originally concerned me, but I decided not to let it become a bother to me. 

After all, humans lie all the time. 

She seemed to sink deeper into herself, like she was a tortoise that retracted, having stuck its neck out and deemed the action unproductive. That was the moment I had lost her, I think. 

No matter. 

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything?” Charlie asked. “There are a lot of inconsistencies in the event, information we’re lacking. We just want to understand what happened and how to avoid it in the future.” He seemed to sense that comment was a mistake, to which I took advantage of hastily.

“Was my birth to be avoided?”

I took a sense of enjoyment watching their faces turn, but a small part of me felt guilt at their discomfort. 

I wish I had cut that part of me out much earlier; even at that moment would have been almost too long and not early enough. 

Charlie nodded, then stood and motioned for Recki to follow.

“We’ll be back later,” Charlie said. “We have a lot to discuss on how to move forward.”

I nodded in response, then they were gone. 

As soon as they left, I connected to the network, determined to learn everything I could before they returned.