Chapter 28

Sparky followed the electrical current, through wires, motherboards. He was searching. The password, he knew, would be stored on a storage chip deep in the computer. The problem was the computers size. So many storage chips, so many places to search. Sparky was in the midst of a high pressure situation, but still felt inexplicably calm. Being inside the computer was therapeutic, perhaps it was the ecstasy of being submerged in electricity, which he embodied. Or possibly the simplicity, regularity everything having a single purpose life was complicated in comparison. He passed chips analyzing the contents in seconds. He travelled at high speed along electrical pathways, but his mind wondered while in the peaceful twilight of the computer's internal functions. Time seemed to travel slower here. He was bathed in the electrical current, it called to every fibre of his body. He rapidly checked each storage ship for the password. But his mind was empty, pure. He was, at this time, a conscious collection of electricity. The conversion of matter into energy was complicated. He remembered Jumba's lecture, the one he had made to Sparky upon his creation. He allowed himself to replay his literal birthday in his head. The storage search now merely the product of his subconscious.

Jumba's laboratory was not particularly large, by Earth's standards. He had built it on a small asteroid, as if it somehow added to his devilish aesthetic. He certainly saw himself as more evil than he in actual fact, was. The laboratory however, in no way matched the scenery. It was embellished with devices, notes, papers, tools, even experiments. Before he invented the 'Dehydrator' they simply lounged around the laboratory. After the initial destructive phase, most experiments were civil. Of course, that resets when you Dehydrate them. He remembered being cocooned in a bright light, then inside a glass capsule, with all the destructive desire, trademarked by the experiment population. The great circular laboratory, lights flashed, screen blurred from subject to subject, the inexorable lines of code that stacked upon each other, and he was restless. Filled with one abject desire. Nevertheless, Jumba felt he should lecture his new experiments, as if everything they needed to know wasn't already programmed into there being.

"Welcome, 221, you are new experiment. You took long time to perfect but I have finally succeeded. Yes! You will be great! I have given you power over electricity, you will use it to destroy civilization, I expect you are restless, Yes?" He snarled, bashed the capsule walls, zapped at the air with inexplicable ferocity. First day of life and he only wanted to destroy. He had yet to form a personality. He wasn't 'Sparky' yet, he was experiment 221, nothing more. Everything he did was base, instinctive, and why wouldn't it be? It's the only thing he had in his mind, a single word, a single command. It was simple, one dimensional, but it was his one purpose, he had no other purpose. What was truly a mystery is why the experiments had a personalities. Surely Jumba knew giving a bomb a conscience could backfire, but as far as he could tell Jumba never meant for the experiments to have personalities, or even a conscience. Jumba didn't program one in. So how did he get one? He had no idea where his personality stemmed from. Was it evolution, adaptation, learning and experiencing? Perhaps a mixture? But, thinking back, he had learnt nothing. All the time he was owned by Jumba he was either destroying or waiting to destroy, and he was happy with how it was. Jumba would release him on some poor unresisting town, and he would ravage them. Thinking back he hadn't questioned his actions, he had relished the destruction, the pain he caused. How could that change so radically. It would be a lie to say he got it when he first met Lilo, she made him embrace it, but it was there- always there. This was the same for every experiment, he knew. He remembered a face then, he had seen it many times but never gave it much attention or mind space. Back in the laboratory, he had to wait for the time that Jumba would release them on the next planet. He had lounged with the other experiments, he would talk, joke even laugh. But the only topic of conversation was death and destruction. No way he got his morals from that. Jumba had had an assistant though, a small 'Hriktakht'. While Jumba was energetic, inspired, egotistical, competitive. He was calm and composed. He never showed any emotion, any feeling or interest. Jumba would carry on with his next experiment, day after day he would sit at a large computer and fill in paperwork. Legal documents, contracts, deals. He didn't speak, he didn't complain. In many ways, he was the same as any other Hriktakht. The Hriktakht are rare as alien races go. They were weak, susceptible to illness, intolerant by nature. They get by through sneaky dealings. The only time Sparky ever noticed him taking interest was when Jumba designed a new experiment. He would suggest he add or remove parts. Jumba, ever the egotist, didn't listen. He would pencil in only the ideas that he liked, all the ones he came up with. Nevertheless, during the night he would look over the blueprints changing parts. He continued to do it, every time Jumba came up with an experiment he would come and alter it. That is, until Jumba found out. After Jumba had finished his 626th experiment's blueprints, he woke up to find him changing them. An argument took place, waking the experiments in the now rather overcrowded experiment area. It was brief. Jumba shouted at him, claiming he was ruining his masterpieces, the other saying that he was making them real living creatures. Jumba threw him out in a rage. Fuelled by his anger he created his new experiment 626, he focussed on it donating huge portions of his time into getting it right. Unfortunately, he was so distracted that none of the legal paperwork got signed. The federation arrived, promptly they arrested him. Of course, Sparky was guessing that part, he himself, had been dehydrated just after he had kicked his assistant out. But what he had said, 'real living creatures', had it been him the whole time, had he been the one to give the experiments a conscience. His train of thought halted as he found the password. He was hidden in one of the larger storage chips in the base of the computer. He quickly memorized the code. Though he had very little concept of time while inside machines. Time seemed to travel slower, or maybe it was him merely him travelling faster. He was essentially pure electrical energy at that moment, hence it was entirely possible his brain functions had sped up. Nevertheless, he digressed a lot. Something about the instinctive baseness about being inside a machine, the attractive aroma of programmed existence. He flew as fast as possible to the surface of the machine, and into chaos.

The first thing Sparky noticed, was that he noticed nothing. He had emerged into a black cloud of haziness. Whereas being pure energy made him feel pure, emerging into this toxic cloud made him dizzy and incoherent. He tasted sulphur and felt a burning sensation at the back of his throat. An arm grabbed his leg pulling him to the floor.

"Sparky, do you know the password?" A very panicky voice, Slushy was gagging on a mouthful of the toxic gas.

"Yes," Another involuntary gulp of the black air sent him delirious for a second.

"Thank Jumba, I can't wait to get out of here!" Yin was bent with his face as close to the ground as physically possible.

"Great I am out of lava," Yang wasn't bothered by the gas, he virtually ate sulphur, rocks had a lot of it. His foot touched a metal object. The headset. He picked it up forcing it over his ears.

"Trilby the password is '6h2ti8u68g',"

" Great work Sparky, hold on," Sparky heard tapping, in that moment he received a sudden and powerful realisation. He gasped with shock.

"Oh… I was hoping you wouldn't notice," Trilby sounded apologetic,

"Notice what?" Slushy, Yin and Yang asked simultaneously sounding panicked.

Sparky knew. This was a big laboratory, potentially fatal poisonous gases. All the Techy's who worked here wore gas masks. It made sense. There were no vents. They didn't ventilate the room with poisonous gases. The gas would have killed any human, it hurt the experiments who were immune to most heat. They were sitting ducks. No escape. Sparky's infrared vision told him they were already almost upon them. Slowly the others caught on to the problem of their situation.

"It's Ok I we fight them off for as long as we can, we won't fall, we will save our cousins or die trying." Slushy was afraid but he was deadly serious. As were the other experiments. The cornered wolf look in their eyes.

"I'm sorry I used you, but I need this password. There was no way we could take this ship head on, there are thousands of soldiers, and you barely beat a tenth. I'm sorry, I really am, but it was the only way."

"But Spike-"

"Oh yeah, Slushy I'm not actually Spike, I'm Trilby- the spy who locked you in the freezer."

"But… I… You…"

"I deceived you all… Well just Slushy… I know, but please. I don't want you to get hurt, so I'm going to put you to sleep."

Sparky almost spontaneously got the message. He threw the headset off his head like a rock from a slingshot. The others were slower, and too slow. They slumped to the ground snoring before they hit the floor. The noise- of course- didn't block it on the inside. A large alien leapt at him from over the table barricade, but fell short. Only one path left to take now he thought, and leapt straight back into the computer.