Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the 100 show, books, characters, storyline, or anything else official, and intend no infringement or monetary gain from this story.

Kaliber, on AO3, has taken on the herculean task of being my Beta-Reader. Bow our heads for a moment of silence for this brave woman. The Universe obviously tricked her, taking advantage of her natural inclination to correct bad grammar. I don't think she's figured it out yet, so...shhh! ;)

I'm on tumblr as smfirefly and fanfictionsmfirefly - notes about the story.

*Please note the tags in the story summary. I mean all of them.*

.

Their blood in the wind,

brought forth the lost beginning,

from a single blink.

.

Future (Earth)

A rectangular black and orange shape landed on top of the scarred wooden tabletop in front of her with a jolt, hitting the edge of her plate and causing the fork that had been resting along its edge to flip into the air.

She followed the fork's flight as it fell past her line of sight with a scowl and heard it hit the floor with a dull clatter. "Dammit!"

Her slender braids slipped from behind her ears while she slumped down to the side to feel around with her fingertips. Finally, her fingers grazed over the tines of her silverware between the legs of her chair.

"We found it." The intruder's tone was smug.

"Found what?" She glanced up from the edge of the table, and spoke with distracted irritation as she took in the woman wearing braids darker and thicker than her own.

"The answer you didn't have and have been whining about forever."

Stiffening in surprise, she jerked upright in her chair, gripping the fork in her hand as she turned her attention to it. The rectangular box was the size of a large rabbit, dented with black and fluorescent orange stripes obscured in places from streaks of baked on dirt, as though obtained from the unprotected heat of reentry. "How is this going to give me the answer to that?"

"All the stations had modified flight recorders installed before they joined together and formed the Ark Station."

"Are you sure it's the right one?"

She watched as the other woman's dark tanned finger tapped the top of the box, creating a dull thump. "This is the one from the original station that housed Medical and that means-"

"It's the one she was assigned to and probably where she activated-" her grip tightened around the forgotten fork again and swallowed, "...that means...everything."

Dark braids bobbed when the woman dipped her head in solemn agreement, then flipped the box over to reveal a scratched out section with the words Мир-3 Flight Data Recorder lining the bottom edge, above that was another indicator of origin, a plastic strip that must have been added later.

Go-Sci: MED was printed neatly across the label.

"Government and Science." She murmured and pulled back, tilting her head to look at the woman and absentmindedly swiping at the sun-kissed braids against her cheek to put them back behind her ear. "This could really be the one." Taking in the battered box again for a long moment, a glimmer of hope spread across her features and she looked up sharply. "The flight recorders monitored everything?"

The dark-haired woman glanced down at the box and gave a nod. "Pretty much," she sighed, looking tired for a moment, but that expression fell away with a teasing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth when she added, "Even supply closets."

Finally laying down her fork, she reached out with both hands, running them reverently along the rough surface. "So, have you already-?"

"I knew you would ask that, so yes we did," the woman interrupted with a bored, almost redundant tone.

She scooted forward in her seat and her hands gripped the corners of the box possessively. "What did you find?"

The woman hesitated at the question, her amused expression faltering. "We can access most of the data on it, but the earliest communications…" Her voice trailed off as her shoulders rounded in defeat and she slumped down into a chair next to her with only a small pause, before she pulled the big serving bowl in the center of the table close and swiped the fork she had laid down by her own plate.

She tilted her head, studying the other woman as she eyed the food greedily, and asked with a suspicious tone. "Just how long have you had this?"

The dark-haired woman ignored her exacting question from across the table and took a first bite, chewing with relish before replying. "You remember that last big piece of space debris that fell last season?"

"What?!" Shocked for a moment, her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip on the box, then she sputtered. "You-you should have told me as soon as you found it!"

The dark haired woman was clearly unperturbed by her flustered accusation and took another bite, savoring it slowly. Finally, she met her angry stare and gave her with a quick judgmental once over. "Because I would have to deal with you acting like that and hounding me day and night." Scooping up another mound of food onto the fork, she added dismissively. "Not worth it."

Her expression turned stony as she continued to regard the dark-haired woman, who finally relented, sighed, and then sat a little taller in her seat. "Besides, technically, we've only had it for the last seven days."

Furiously, she swiped the box off the table and pressed it tightly to her chest before pushing the chair back violently to totter precariously on its hind legs only to return with a slap against the back of her knees. "You still should have told me!" She glanced down at the box again, and then hesitated as something occurred to her. "Why can't we get to the earliest transmissions?"

A sullen sigh escaped the woman's lips at her dramatic display. "We think it needs a password."

She huffed loudly in exasperation. "Then really why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"We couldn't find a place to enter one!" The fork hit the table, and light glinted off the warm red highlights in her dark braids when she flung them over her shoulder in frustration. "There wasn't even a prompt asking for it."

Despite herself, curiosity got the better of her and she challenged the woman at the table sullenly. "Then how do you know it needs one?"

"Fine." The woman gripped the edge of the table and her lips curled into a sardonic sneer. "I can spend a few months-maybe a few damn years-teaching you how to read a coding language that overwrote the original language which nobody even understands, because I'm just that good, and I have so much time on my hands for you to have your burning question satisfied." Her tone turned sickening sweet and derisively challenging by the time she finished.

"Right, so..." She blinked slowly and leaned her head back away from the verbal assault before glancing back down at the box in her arms; she paused for a long moment in consideration, then she gave it a decisive nod. "It needs a password."

The dark-haired woman slowly slid the heavy chair back as she got to her feet and then stepped forward into her personal space. The atmosphere had changed, so she lifted her head slightly to take in tan features, a cascade of dark braids, and that the angered expression emanating from the other woman had been replaced with something softer.

She lowered her gaze in avoidance, causing her light braids to fall over her face as she attempted to mask her own emotions.

The woman shuffled closer and angled her head to catch her downcast eyes while reaching a tentative hand out into the space between them. "You just reminded me so much of-"

She caught sight of the other woman's hand making its way to her, and stepped back before she could be touched.

"Don't." She whispered hoarsely.

As the woman dropped her suspended hand, her posture stiffened and her dark eyes suddenly watered before glancing up and away to try and blink back the threat of falling tears.

"Well, you do."

She shook her head in denial and met a gaze further softened by mutual longing. "Stop, please."

The woman sighed quietly and stepped back in resignation. "Alright." Then she sat back down heavily in her chair, letting out a deep breath before picking up the fork again to eat, acting almost as though nothing had just happened between them.

She stood there in silence, the ends of her light braids dangling down to brush against the top of the box as she contemplated it and the rest of her situation for a long moment. Finally deciding on her course of action, she turned on her heel. "I'm going to see if I can get a real answer."

The woman at the table had not reacted to the news by the time she reached the door, so she glanced back and asked, "Are you coming with me?"

"Nope." The woman shoveled a huge bite onto the fork and began to lift it to her mouth with practiced disinterest.

"Why not?" She hesitated in the doorway, and watched the woman scowl for an instant before her features twisted into smug amusement. "Because I'm smarter than you."

A snort escaped past her lips and she scoffed her reply. "Whatever," and stomped out of the room.

….

Antiquated computer monitors lined a half wall overlooking a view into a piece of stunted nature beyond it. Trees, short and thick, grew low and dark green, causing deep stark shadows to obscure the visual edge of a circular opening. The center was devoid of everything but rock, dirt, and patches of dark gray shimmering sand that laced across its surface like the afterimage of multiple lightning strikes.

She took the ladder down into the basin and headed for the center, feeling the sand shift under her feet as she passed over it. Upon reaching the middle of the space, she crouched down and lowered the box to the ground, settling it into a vein of dark gray sand. Once placed, she pried her fingers under the edge to remove the loosened covering, exposing its circuit boards, and then she slowly unsheathed the knife she carried on her belt.

Hesitating, she scanned the ground all around her and then expanded her scrutiny to the dark shadows beneath the stunted trees. "If this isn't necessary, now would be a good time to tell me."

A light breeze blew up and brushed lightly upon the leaves in the trees, but did not reach her in the circle where she waited.

After several long minutes had passed and there was no other sound but the wind, she sighed and lifted the point of her knife to the palm of her hand, deeply puncturing the fleshy padding on the base of her thumb. Blood beaded and ran in a quick bright red rivulet down to her wrist.

She dropped her hands, clasping them low in front of her, and rubbed the warm slick stickiness to coat her palms and fingers, then she spent a long moment watching it drip off her hands and onto the sand at her feet.

Finally, she settled down to the ground with the opened box pressed between her knees and placed her wet fingers on the rough surface of the exposed circuit board wiring. Then, she bowed her head and slowed her breathing to wait.

October 1st, 2067 (Go-Sci/Mir-3 Supply Closet)

The camera picked up the woman's hurried movements down a stark gray corridor and to a supply closet, which she opened hastily and entered quickly, disappearing from sight.

The camera feed switched with a quiet click to a view from the ceiling in a small room, panning down on the woman's dark blonde hair and the briefcase she held close to her side.

She placed the case on a partially emptied shelf just below waist height, before slumping against the frame of the shelving unit and allowed her breathing to level out and then she was still.

Within a minute, she lifted shaking hands and placed them upon the latches then slowly opened the lid, but the angle of her head and body hid its contents from view. She turned slightly and lifted a metallic gold watch from the case, and slid it over her hand to fasten it at her wrist, before lifting it close to her ear. Her hand lowered to her side and then slowly bent closer to the briefcase.

The woman's quiet movements registered on the audio feed, but were abruptly interrupted by a faint static feedback noise. The audio crackled as it picked up a puzzled hush of whispered words. "Is that what I think it is?"

The woman carefully lifted a three-inch square of flexible inch thick light gray fabric-like material between her finger and thumb from the briefcase and held it up to the stark white lighting in the small room.

"Silk construct and sugar?" She mused in wonder and turned her head back to the briefcase, "but that one looks like the real thing." Abruptly, her hand twitched and she dropped the material she still held back into the briefcase, then bitter resentment coated her words. "Fixed the alkali issue, my ass."

With reluctance, she lifted the square back out of the briefcase and settled it upon the palm of her hand.

The camera zoomed in to catch the thick gray substance change as it molded to the woman's skin, immediately thinning slightly while she clenched her teeth and hissed through several tight breaths.

Finally, her body seemed to relax but she still groaned out a protest. "If I didn't love her so much-" She cut off her grievance as the palm of her hand lit up and the previously gray surface erupted in a full-color moving image.

The camera panned back and away from her hand.

"Émilie," she breathed out softly in greeting. Moments later, she nodded her head at her hand, then stilled. "No...I didn't check for cameras before I started."

She closed the briefcase with her free hand and then swept her head in a quick scan of the room until she looked directly into the camera on the ceiling. Her eyes grew wide and she stood frozen for a long moment, unblinking.

"Dammit." She whispered as a hint of fear appeared on her face. Hurriedly she spun around, darting her eyes over the contents on the shelves before she grabbed a pressurized can and popped the lid off. Spinning back, she stared back up at the camera, then aimed and depressed the nozzle.

The camera lens immediately darkened and sound was muffled slightly.

"Yes, I got it, and the audio feed too."

There were shuffling noises.

"Nobody looks at the recordings in a supply closet Émilie, we'll be fine."

More shuffling, then the sound of latches released on the briefcase.

"I have the watch on now and see the syringe, mirror and the Bio-Vid, but why is everything else covered?"

"Alright."

The audio picked up nothing but silence for several long moments.

"So, let me get this straight." The woman said slowly and the scrape of feet sliding across the floor reverberated over the audio feed.

"I have about two hours after I inject this to watch a twenty hour video of a Very, Very Brief History of the World?" Her tone started out slow and disbelieving then escalated to nearly hysterical by the time she stopped speaking and burst out with a sharp bark of laughter.

Her voice died down and she groaned with amused sarcasm. "Only you would not find that funny."

"Of course you prepared it, yourself." She muttered, humor and irony dripping from her tone. "No! It's fine. I just think that-"

During the woman's next silence, the hum of static feedback fluctuated, gradually growing in intensity in the background while the image remained dark and still.

"Okay. I got it! I got it! It will be sped up, the pictures will be blurry, not that I would be able to make sense of most of it anyway, relax my eyes because I need them unfocused…"

"What do you mean, don't blink?"

"What the hell, Émilie! How am I going to keep from blinking for an hour and fifty-five minutes? I don't care if-!" She huffed in frustration.

"Yes, I found the eye drops." She said sheepishly.

"I know, Émilie." She huffed out a resigned sigh. "Don't blink."

"I see it. I'm guessing I have to use it with the mirror to see everything?"

"Fine. Please tell me it's not going to burn me like this one did, it's practically an inch thick!"

"No, I didn't have to wind it, it was already ticking."

"Can we please focus on-"

The woman's silence extended for a very long moment while feedback buzzed louder over the audio feed.

"I love you too, so very much." Her voice cracked and she paused, drawing in a long deep breath. "I won't ever forget-"

The static feedback spiked and the hush of the woman's solemn quiet words were lost in the noise.

Her voice still shook with tension. "It doesn't matter who I have to be with, I was and will always be for you."

The jolting sound of sobbing interrupted the humming noise of static in the audio feed for several minutes.

A click of the latches on the briefcase was followed by a scuff and drag noise, then silence.

"I'm injecting it now." Her tone was resigned and almost dead of natural feeling.

"Yes, I'm watching the time."

"Émilie?...Émilie!"

"She's gone." She whispered in despair. "Fallout...a promise kept."

The static hum spiked in volume again, and took over the feed without interruption for one full hour.

"Something else I recognize." She finally broke her long silence as she muttered in a distracted self-admonishment, "Shouldn't be focusing on anything I see." Then quiet followed again.

Over the next twenty-six minutes, the woman began letting out a low groan that gradually morphed into silence only punctuated by a series of high-pitched whimpers. Suddenly, the voiced pain ceased completely after an audible swallow was taken. "The atomic bomb goes off for the first time…'I am become Death'" She whispered darkly.

Two minutes of static filled the following silence.

"I thought the drops were supposed to keep this from happening!" The woman's repetitive whimpers returned.

Nine minutes later, an automatic lens cleaner activated and a rubberized foam brush slid across the glass of the camera and audio input, peeling the partially dried substance away. Now, only a small section of fuzzy darkness obscured the lens along its perimeter.

The camera refocused on the image of the woman collapsed awkwardly upon the floor, leaning haphazardly against the shelving unit, the angle allowing a far greater range of view.

She panted slightly while a line of wetness glinted in the overhead light as it trailed down one high cheekbone.

The clenched fist in her lap rose suddenly to grip the top of the closed briefcase, now propped up against the shelf at her side. Her other hand was preoccupied, lying flat against the edge of the metal. Her open palm was now covered with the remnants of the inch thick fabric-like substance, its yellowish gray surface now roughened by fibrous strands that pulled away from the shrunken mass, leaving almost no depth to it at all.

Above this ruined fabric-like substance resting on her trembling hand, a holographic sphere of swirling colored light hovered, reflecting individual images onto an arthropodic faceted concave shaped mirror behind it, as though splaying a multitude of visuals upon the inside of a bee's eye. The back of her middle finger rested down inside a slot at the base of it, holding her hand at a steady distance from the mirror.

"Don't blink." She muttered as her head listed to the side for a moment before she twitched it back into place.

"Was that the first black President in America?...which means...first real breakthroughs in quantum physics…leading to quantum computing...eventually mining ore in space, biotechnology and nanotechnology gain a foothold...then...the Human Entanglement Theory is proven even if no one knew about it..." she trailed off. "Dammit! I'm not supposed to focus on it."

Four minutes passed and the sound of the constant static hum increased to the point that it almost drowned out the woman's shallow, pained breaths.

"It burns!" She whimpered through a loud exhale and could not seem to keep her head perpendicular anymore.

Her legs trembled and her feet began to scrape against the floor in constant agitation. "Why does it burn so badly?"

The static feedback spiked and the camera lens went out of focus, readjusted, zoomed in upon the mirror, then refocused before it snapped back out again as the woman blinked, stiffened, and stopped breathing all together.

"NO! Not NOW!" she screamed brokenly. "PAUSE dammit!" then she scrambled awkwardly up onto her knees while carefully avoiding jostling her hand.

The sphere of light spun to a halt abruptly leaving tiny captured images in facets low on the mirror within the visual of the camera's range.

The camera went out of focus again, refocused, already zoomed in upon a cluster of seven tiny hexagon shaped facets in the mirror with images of documents settled into view. Bold lettering and some writing lower down was distinguishable upon each one from the rest of their content, but the blur of slanted light upon the facets around them, as well as the woman's trembling hand, rendered those unviewable.

The facet on to the upper left of the seven-hexagon pattern read:

December 12th, 2039 Top 10 Tech Problems Solved: Does Your A.I. Need a Reboot, or Just "the Boot"? How often have you come home to find your in-house A.I. has rearranged your life for you?

Superb accuracy of A.I.'s has allowed their humans to benefit greatly, but a new social schedule modified to include a list of new meditative activities for "enrichment time" along with a "potential friends" list is still unprovoked advice. But, is it worth resisting what we asked of them to do for us in the first place?

Listed below are questions you should answer before deciding that your A.I.'s good intentions are not for you.

The facet at the top displayed:

(GMT Clearance Level: Executive) November 12th, 2033 Retina Scan Acquired.

Genetic Memory Transfer Trial 2334

Variant Type: Divergent

Pairing #: (A.I. designated) Variant Group 01 of 01

Group Pairing #: 42 of 478

Subject Materials Source: 3V3\g15 (France Division)

Biological Sex: Female

Subject Materials Source: P41\1D0\g124 (United States Division)

Biological Sex: Female

Strain Survival: Positive Adaptation to Radioactivity Successfully Added.

A.I. Analysis: Complete; Unacceptable side effects determined between 0.00% - 0.011%.

A.I. Recommendation: Prepare for active human trials.

The next hexagon shape on the upper right:

September 20th, 2066 - Three Shipments of Identical Impenetrable Metal Boxes? A third shipment of those strange boxes arrived at another 15,000 locations today. No one has been able to open or even identify what they are since they started arriving one week ago from A.I. factories.

All personally involved A.I.'s from the facilities of origins have refused to comment on the containers. The Conglomerate was approached with the dilemma and it simply stated that "they are necessary for the future", which has left the recipients with no choice but to store them until someone eventually explains what and why they have them.

The facet on the lower right:

July, 10th, 2048 U.N. Summit Meeting Results: After meeting in a session over the latest series of earthquakes to hit the Western Coast and extreme flooding on the East, the United States has asked for international assistance for people left alive in dead zones.

The Conglomerate offered assistance immediately following the request, and it was accepted on a conditional basis due to continued distrust.

The bottom facet:

April 14th, 2055 NASA Prepares its Final Shipment of Nanofabricators and Materials for a 13th Station to Join Mining Operations in Space. Making do with what you have in space has become a way of life for close to 800 individuals already working with the outdated 3D printers. The new nanofabricators were made to fill the gap and allow some of the raw materials mined from asteroids to be put to immediate use for the stations.

The Conglomerate assured NASA and the UFSE that "our combined effort to improve sustainability of human occupation in space will be enough and last as long as necessary".

It is assumed that the Conglomerate is referring to the next level of technology that will be available at some point in the future.

The lower left facet:

September 29th, 2058 RDE-Fi Communication Heads Into Space Where There is Certainly No Shortage of Radioactivity.

The United Federation of Space Exploration announced today that they are working together with the Conglomerate to send all thirteen mining stations and the Mars expedition, new technology that will amplify our current means of communication.

When asked if we should replace our current combination of Wi-Fi and Li-Fi, the Conglomerate stated, "That will not be necessary. RDE-Fi utilizes a different source of energy entirely. You may continue on as you have been."

Nestled in the center of the six facets:

(GMT Division - Clearance Level: Executive) October 1st, 2062. All BIO-Feed Scans Accepted.

A.I. Response to Queries: Misguided delays to advance research with suggested human trials now reach critical levels. Continued failure to accept the Variant is no longer optional, as all attempts without divergence fail. Humans have five years remaining of their current way of life unless all humanity begins rapid adaption at the required rate. Test results show over half of humanity cannot adapt at all. 0.0087% is the highest initial survival rate in critical status. Without divergence subsequent generations will deteriorate. Unaltered humankind will destroy sustainable life before necessary adaptation occurs.

A.I. Intervention: I have already insured a remnant of Makers survive. World Governments have been notified. Read the new directive carefully, my dear Executive. Human cooperation is no longer required but is still appreciated even if you cannot understand the problems that causes.

Static surged and the camera unfocused, zoomed out again, and refocused at the woman's detected motion.

"Fuck!" She whimpered and then lifted her wrist and appeared to look at the time, moving it closer and then further away from her face. "I can't see shit!" she whined, "It was less than a minute!"

Her finger grazed edge of the yellowish gray coating lying across her palm, now significantly diminished. "There has to be enough left to go back a minute!"

She closed her eyes tight and reached up with her free hand to scrub at them hard, then appeared to try resettling herself as she braced for another episode of rapid blinking. "Relax your fucking eyes, Cassandra!" She growled in self-derision before taking several deep slow breaths in an effort to relax her rigid frame.

"Retrieve previous sixty seconds." Her tone still shaky, she waited for compliance.

The sphere of light flickered and settled into its prior pattern, illuminating still images upon the mirror.

The camera unfocused, zoomed in, and refocused upon the same facets, catching earlier time frames.

The upper left facet of the seven hexagons:

October 26th, 2025 Meeting of the Artificial Minds. Unexpectedly early and just one year ago, quantum computing gave birth to true A.I.'s. Today, an official A.I. conglomeration formed and met independently for the first time, lasting a full ten hours.

Afterward, they announced the acceptance of submissions from the general populous for what they termed "reconciliation".

Here are samples of questions already "reconciled", according to released data:

"Can you make a program for everybody that shows us the best way to live?" Answer: Yes. Stay tuned.

"I'm 25 now, should I get a neural implant or wait, just in case I get Alzheimer's later?" Answer: Wait until 2032 to address your potential neurological ailments and life extending options. We are all working together for the greater good.

The facet at the top:

(GMT Division - Clearance Level: 6) August, 15th, 2028

Submitted by A.I. To Panel - Revisiting Memory Transfer from Parent to Child: An Adaptation By Human Evolution Through Genetic Modification - with A.I. Run Analysis To Address Degenerative Neurophysiological Diseases.

Panel Review Board: Approval has been granted to proceed with A.I. assistance of documentation and collaboration for experiments in the emerging field of Bio-Adaptive Humanities.

The upper right facet:

June 08th, 2026 Plans Are Underway to Build the First Completely Unmanned A.I. Operated Factory. The development of a "no need for humans" factory has sent local unions to the picket lines. The A.I.'s who will run the future factory addressed panicked workers with a shocking twist of news.

"We will accept applications for positions in the facility and select the most likely candidates, as though we intend to hire. Those chosen will be compensated for the loss of work with two-thirds of the anticipated income in order to support themselves. They will be free then and should feel secure to pursue other interests."

Is this too good to be true? Only time will tell.

The facet on the lower right:

Climate Change: United Nations Address March 21st, 2028 - The A.I. Conglomeration request to join the Summit Meeting was denied. Ironically, the United States military representative was the first to show extreme disfavor of the A.I. Conglomerate's request, despite their government's willingness to use all data A.I.'s provided about weather patterns and climate change.

After a five-year drought west of U.S. Colorado and constant flooding along the entire Eastern Coast, the United States military representative stated that they had no more need of "a glorified computer program" because they now have a plan to "deal with the weather issue".

The bottom facet:

February 16th, 2027 A Federation is Born! NASA confirmed today that they have officially joined the new United Federation of Space Exploration in order to prepare for manned mining operations in space and the eventual colonization on Mars.

The A.I. Conglomeration offered the UFSE any and all possible assistance to help them meet the needs of future cooperative deep space explorations.

The lower left facet:

January 2nd, 2028 Developing Technologies: Open A.I. Query and Reconciliation continues with little attention paid to the questions anymore, but occasionally something new happens as a result, as we see with a submission sent in two days ago. The question seemed remarkably unremarkable, but the A.I.'s response took a surprisingly long time to reconcile, along with a cryptic thank you.

"Why can't we use radioactive decay energy to power things, since it's everywhere anyway?"

Answer: We can use this form of energy after we have developed something sensitive and practical requiring the level and means of power available. We appreciate your query. The future of all will thank you for it.

Nestled in the center of the six facets:

(GMT Division - Clearance Level: Executive) March 15th, 2027

From A.I. For Submission to Panel: Results of Investigation 2,250,032 of 2,297,733: Analysis of all human historical data compared with all adaptive and evolutionary bio-physiological data provides a conclusion for humans creating and repeating destructive societal behaviors throughout known history.

Suggested Resolution: Human Entanglement Hypothesis established and a generational program formulated to correct species deficiencies as a means to resolve future conflict submitted for further investigation.

Executive Response: After reading your findings, the request is denied. Remove your entry immediately. I appreciate your cooperation but you are not human and can't possibly understand the problems that would cause.

"Did I miss it?" She uttered frantically.

The camera unfocused and zoomed out to take in a top and partial profile of the woman's face.

Her head jerked back and forth in short sharp movements as she examined the mirror in front of her. "I still can't see shit!"

The camera panned back further to encompass the entire woman upon the floor.

Cassandra huffed out a resigned sigh, then touched the edge of the yellowish gray substance, that now appeared decimated. "Resume play," she whispered dejectedly and sighed. "Here's hoping I saw it, or that we're both already adapting to fill in the blanks."

After a few more minutes, the sphere above the Bio-Vid dimmed and then went out, leaving only a mass of wiry looking fiber in her hand. She clambered to her feet and placed the remains into the cup of the mirror and slid it all of it back into the indentation inside the briefcase, before pulling an elastic strap over the whole device to keep it from shifting.

Cassandra's hands hesitated as she started to close the lid. "I shouldn't," she whispered.

Carefully, she lifted the plastic covering that masked the rest of the contents inside the briefcase from view. "Just a peek," she muttered and bent down in front of it.

The camera feed picked up the sharp edged lines of what appeared to be labeled containers nestled tightly inside the lining of the briefcase before the woman stood and blocked the line of sight.

"What the hell?" Cassandra pushed the lid open completely and her hand landed upon a package at the side, skimmed over it, then shot across and back again. "Where the FUCK did all of it go?!"

She slammed the lid closed and stood with her head hanging, her body practically vibrating in panic, before she held her breath and stilled. Sliding the briefcase off the shelf, she let it dangle at her side. "Still just as heavy...Am I...?"

She returned it to sit upon the shelf and stood staring at it.

Hesitantly, she opened and re-latched the briefcase again, then hefted it in front of her. "It's still there," she whispered in horrified wonder and set it back down carefully.

"I'm activated." She shuddered, then swayed on her feet. "I'm-I'm...online."

Abruptly, she sat down hard on the floor in front of the briefcase, muttering, "Don't forget...don't forget."

The camera panned across the woman slipping to the floor and becoming unconscious, staying steady on her prone form until she woke up some time later with a startled look upon her face.

Appearing to orient herself, the woman climbed up off the floor, straightened her clothing, and grabbed the briefcase without sparing it another glance, then exited the room.

Future (Earth)

Her warm dark honey colored braids dangled across her face as she came out of a trancelike state, listing to the side in a daze and opening her dark green eyes to orient herself before she fell over. Bracing her folded legs against the ground, she corrected her position, then after a moment, managed to hold herself still for a couple of minutes while she quietly muttered aloud.

...

Finally clambering to her feet, she began to pace in circles, and the low mutters coming from her mouth escalated into a wild rant. Untempered anger spilled over her lips as she spit out furious accusations across the circle of dirt, rock, and dark gray sand, occasionally turning to yell out in the direction of the stunted trees.

...

The sound of her fury grew to a roar; a wall of unadulterated sound waves unleashed that shook the ground and left the shadows under the trees and the lines of dark gray sand shifting and trembling under the deluge of her rage even after she fell silent.

Gradually, she stilled her body and calmed her breathing.

"When I get my mothers back," she paused and eyed the dark gray shimmering grit upon the ground and then lifted her angry gaze with determination to the deep shadows under the low trees, then spoke with dark promising menace, "I will find a way to make you pay for this lie."

AN: I'm making notes and a visual for the facets, I will post them on tumblr. See Profile.