At long last, here it is: Chapter 4!

Influenced

Metal groans; glass shatters. A scream. The woman's lifeless body slumps to the floor.

"Rosie!"

"My Rosie's dead."

A fiery orb. The crowd gasps in awe. A sudden, searing pain as the whole thing implodes.

"My dream is dead."

A mechanical whirring. A blindfold removed from my eyes. My own shock as I survey the chaos around me. . .

"And these. . . monstrous things should be at the bottom of the river."

A chaos of surgical tools, smashed tables, broken glass. . . and bodies. Bodies of those who had tried to help, to remove the actuators.

"Along with me," I conclude. The murky water swirls almost invitingly before me, like a good friend daring me to jump in. Just one step. That's all it would take to end my misery. To become one more piece of junk floating in the river. Yet I cannot bring myself to do it. A strange nagging in the back of my mind will not permit me.

"Something in my head," I mutter to myself, for there is no one else to hear me.

"Do not. . ."

"Something. . . talking." Those were not my thoughts. There was someone else in my mind with me. But who? I am the only one here, and it couldn't possibly be the actuators; the inhibitor chip keeps them under my control. "The inhibitor chip!"

I lift my hand to the back of my neck, praying it is still there. I feel the broken shell and singed wiring of what had been my protection. "Gone." A chill creeps slowly down my spine. I am now vulnerable to Their every whim. Unprotected.

It doesn't matter, I assure myself. They will not control me. Of this I am certain. . .

"Rebuild," one of Them whispers into my thoughts.

"Rebuild?" The thought is almost overwhelmingly appealing, but I quickly bury it, hiding behind an assurance of failure. "No," I reply. "Peter was right. I miscalculated."

"Such a grave mistake could not possibly have gone unnoticed by such an esteemed scientist, now, could it?"

They're right. I realize with a jolt. I worked on this for years; If there was a fault, I would have found it!

"I couldn't have miscalculated. It was working, wasn't it?"

"Indeed. . ."

"Yes." I smile, seeing myself finally recognized as one of the most brilliant scientists ever known. Theyseem just as eager as I as They snake through my imaginings. They really aren't that dangerous, after all. I begin to see that They only wish to serve me. "We can rebuild. Enlarge the containment field; make it bigger and stronger than ever!" I pause as something occurs to me: "But we need money."

I sigh, crestfallen. I hadn't realized how much I wanted to rebuild, to try again, until the ambition was ripped away. I recognize now how badly I desired a purpose, something to distract me from my pain.

"We could take money." One of Them snakes around in front of me and whirr's the thought.

"Steal it?" How could They think I would even consider such a primitive possibility? I turn away, adamant in my decision. "No, no, no; I'm not a criminal--"

"Compare the price of theft to that of those who desperately need what your research can provide. What is the suffering of one man when contrasted to the millions who will benefit from your machine?"

"That's right," I realize. Stealing is definitely the lesser of the two evils. "The real crime would be not to finished what we started. We'll do it here," I decide, overjoyed by this new sense of purpose, this new task. :The power of the sun in the palm of my hand. Nothing will stand in our way. Nothing!"

"Of course. . ." all of Them agree eagerly, influenced by my own joy.

And yet I fail to realize. . .

I am influenced.

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