venerdì 15 novembre 2013

Clouded Emotions - Series 2 - I

Secondary intelligences

“It's a long story,” Isabella tells the man pointing the gun at her back.
“It's a long story,” Isabella tells the man pointing the gun at her back.
“Too bad I don't have much time to stay here and listen!” he replies, slamming the butt of the rifle into the back of her neck.
Isabella wakes up tied to a chair, drenched from head to toe: a man to her right is holding a bucket.
“Excellent, the princess has awoken. Don't worry, nobody gets sick around here because of a little water. Now why don't you tell us how you got here?”
Isabella looks up. Her vision is blurry. The pain in her head is unbearable. The voice of the man holding the bucket sounds like the voice of the man who had the gun. He's tall, muscular, with dark hair.
“Come on sweetie, are you going to talk or do you need a little convincing?” asks a woman standing in front of her. Isabella tries to focus in on her. She has a dark complexion, her black hair is pulled back.
“As I was trying to tell your friend,” Isabella begins, each word accompanied by a twinge of pain. “I have a lot of information you need to know.”
Isabella wakes up tied to a chair,
drenched from head to toe
“Wrong, you ugly bitch. We, on the other hand, already know plenty about you. And we're pretty pissed off,” interrupts the second man, who's short and stocky with a huge tattoo on his arm.
They know about Lin's murder, Isabella thinks. “You have every reason not to be happy, but wait -”
“Ugly bitch!” says the tall man standing next to her, chucking the bucket aside. He pounces on top of her: the chair turns over and both end up on the ground. He starts bombarding her with punches, until the woman and the second man pull him off. “Lin was my friend! He was one of us! You killed him in cold blood! You're going to pay for that, you goddamn ugly bitch,” the man continues, as the other struggles to restrain him
Isabella's nose is bleeding. Things are even blurrier. The woman approaches. “My name is Lorena and now I want to know how the fuck you got to our island. And don't try any games, please.”
“Listen, Lorena, for as crazy as this sounds, I got your location from DataCom. But believe me, you have nothing to fear.”
Lorena and the two men turn pale. They instinctively look outside the window, as if expecting to see a DataCom intervention team fall out of the sky.
The tattooed man leaves his friend, picks up his gun and points it towards Isabella. He puts his finger
"Let's kill her and escape."
on the trigger and takes aim. Lorena raises her hand. “Hold on. Let's hear what she has to say.”
If I say one wrong thing, I'm dead. “Listen. Whoever, or whatever gave me the information, is keeping it to itself. You're safe. No one is going to come find you.”
The man with the gun speaks, his forehead dripping with sweat. “Lorena, we need to take her out. She told us DataCom only because she knows we saw her kill Lin. She was sent here to distract us. Let's kill her and escape. We can't put our lives in her hands.”
Lorena bites her lip. She's obviously divided. “Tell me who gave you this information and why. And be clear about it or this time we'll really kill you.”
Isabella tries again: “There's a lot you need to know. There's not just one form of artificial intelligence at DataCom. The human race selection project is the product of the main source. In other words, it's the outcome of the most probable scenario. There are, however, secondary independent intelligences that have developed other plans. It's hard to explain but, basically, humans don't necessarily have to be selected: there's still some hope that -”
"Humans don't necessarily have to be selected:
there's still some hope that -"
“Lorena, while this bitch is making shit up, they're coming to look for us. You have to decide. We need to go, now!” says the man with the gun, his finger starting to pull the trigger.
“I'll kill this bitch!” The tall man lunges towards Isabella's throat with a knife in hand.

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