“Don’t worry, Riddick, it’s not hooked up to the…the ‘thingy’. ….Stop laughing, I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s all right……”
I had gone up front. Didn’t want her to hear me, when I checked on the progress of the Halloran meet. She’s playing, on the computer. Can’t type. Simple things, that I take for granted. She’s never learned.
She was taught to read and write, but any schooling stopped when she was eleven. When that fucking chip went in, and she wasn’t able to think clearly anymore. When just getting her brain to keep her breathing and moving was a struggle. Now that it’s gone, her desire to learn is as insatiable as the rest of her.
A burning curiosity. Her nature, or to make up for lost time, I’m not sure which. Maybe a little of both. I was halfway through securing the meet, running through a weapons list in my head, when I heard her muttered swearing.
She had the thing taken apart by the time I got back there. Almost made the mistake of thinking she had just blew a fuse. She’s completely calm. All of the pieces she’s taken apart are lined up, in the order she took them apart, on her shirt. She’s working half-naked, her hair tucked behind her ear. Lost in what she’s doing.
Sit down with Dog. He’s gotten used to me, follows me around as much as he follows Anise. Just sit and watch her for a moment, before I ask her.
“Having fun, Anise?”
Her voice is quiet, her thoughts centred on what she’s doing, her small hands moving with a will of their own over the part she has in her hand. Studying it. Her eyes closed, her head tilts to the side, like she’s listening to a voice only she can hear.
“….can’t type fast enough….voice recognition….it still wants me to type some stuff…if I….no…there…..heehehhehe….got it….”
She has the thing put together, her hands flying over the parts. Kneeling, sitting back on her heels. Waiting until all of the parts on her shirt are accounted for before putting her shirt back over her head. Like working half naked was the most sensible thing in the world. She starts talking. Stops.
“…it’s asking for a name Riddick, I don’t know what to call it…I’m no good at this……”
She’s tinkered, tinkered mind you, with an extremely sophisticated piece of equipment. Getting it to do something that not only it was never intended to do, but that I sure as hell couldn’t do, and she says she’s no good at this?
“Jack. Call her Jack. It fits.”
“….alright….J…A…C…K…voice recognition only…..”
“There are programs that can help you type faster…I’ll have to hook you back up to the main systems.”
Makes me a little nervous, the thought of her taking the whole ship apart. But it’s interesting to watch. Hook up to the main systems. Pull up other programs for her to play with. Sit back, stroke the dogs ears, and just listen to her voice, talking to ‘Jack’. When I went back, she was curled up on the floor, next to the computer, three quarters of the way through the programs I had given her. Would have taken most people weeks. Carry her back to bed. Seems my Anise is a natural hacker.
© 29 Jan 2006, 16:01
next…
Descent 31
“Don’t worry, Riddick, it’s not hooked up to the…the ‘thingy’. ….Stop laughing, I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s all right……”
I had gone up front. Didn’t want her to hear me, when I checked on the progress of the Halloran meet. She’s playing, on the computer. Can’t type. Simple things, that I take for granted. She’s never learned.
She was taught to read and write, but any schooling stopped when she was eleven. When that fucking chip went in, and she wasn’t able to think clearly anymore. When just getting her brain to keep her breathing and moving was a struggle. Now that it’s gone, her desire to learn is as insatiable as the rest of her.
A burning curiosity. Her nature, or to make up for lost time, I’m not sure which. Maybe a little of both. I was halfway through securing the meet, running through a weapons list in my head, when I heard her muttered swearing.
She had the thing taken apart by the time I got back there. Almost made the mistake of thinking she had just blew a fuse. She’s completely calm. All of the pieces she’s taken apart are lined up, in the order she took them apart, on her shirt. She’s working half-naked, her hair tucked behind her ear. Lost in what she’s doing.
Sit down with Dog. He’s gotten used to me, follows me around as much as he follows Anise. Just sit and watch her for a moment, before I ask her.
“Having fun, Anise?”
Her voice is quiet, her thoughts centred on what she’s doing, her small hands moving with a will of their own over the part she has in her hand. Studying it. Her eyes closed, her head tilts to the side, like she’s listening to a voice only she can hear.
“….can’t type fast enough….voice recognition….it still wants me to type some stuff…if I….no…there…..heehehhehe….got it….”
She has the thing put together, her hands flying over the parts. Kneeling, sitting back on her heels. Waiting until all of the parts on her shirt are accounted for before putting her shirt back over her head. Like working half naked was the most sensible thing in the world. She starts talking. Stops.
“…it’s asking for a name Riddick, I don’t know what to call it…I’m no good at this……”
She’s tinkered, tinkered mind you, with an extremely sophisticated piece of equipment. Getting it to do something that not only it was never intended to do, but that I sure as hell couldn’t do, and she says she’s no good at this?
“Jack. Call her Jack. It fits.”
“….alright….J…A…C…K…voice recognition only…..”
“There are programs that can help you type faster…I’ll have to hook you back up to the main systems.”
Makes me a little nervous, the thought of her taking the whole ship apart. But it’s interesting to watch. Hook up to the main systems. Pull up other programs for her to play with. Sit back, stroke the dogs ears, and just listen to her voice, talking to ‘Jack’. When I went back, she was curled up on the floor, next to the computer, three quarters of the way through the programs I had given her. Would have taken most people weeks. Carry her back to bed. Seems my Anise is a natural hacker.
© 29 Jan 2006, 16:01
next…