It was family day at the shell person kindergarten. The specialised playground was full of the whir of engines mixed with the sounds of footsteps. Laughter echoed throughout the space, both spoken and projected through speakers. Braddon sat to the side nervously, he enjoyed the peaceful routine of classes more than this unruly mayhem. He enjoyed some of the games and a chance to zip around the yard with his motors running at full speed, but interacting with the other children always felt a bit… awkward. Softshells were just so fragile, you had to be constantly on guard careful not to run into them or knock them over. While Braddon's physical body was incredibly weak indeed, the titanium shell encapsulating him was strong. Much stronger than any softshell normie. Gone were the days of isolation, where shell people like him were kept secluded while they matured. The new way of thought was to get them used to able bodied humans as soon as possible, as these are who they would primarily be interacting with once they graduated. "Treat it as a lesson" one of his teachers had said to him after he expressed reluctance to go to the play session. "One on social interactions."
These sessions were also an opportunity for parents and siblings to come and visit. Braddon had never had any visitors. This in itself wasn't particularly uncommon. There was only one shell person facility in the entire central worlds, and families were often unable to relocate due to obligations or monetary considerations. There were usually some family members present, but the bulk of the softshell children were made up of kids from nearby schools. It is as much about getting them used to us as it is about getting us used to them. He thought dryly. He watched with slight envy at his classmate Cindy playing with her sister. Recent advances had made the construction of lifelike dolls with full sensory input possible. They were outrageously expensive, and not all that practical due to the short range and need for total concentration. Moto-Prosthetics, the company that makes them, had kindly donated a couple of child sized models, with limited functionality. The intention was that in the future the kids who once played with them, would want a fully featured model for themselves. Cindy's sister was one of the smallest children present and looked to be about 3 Terran years old. Cindy was awkwardly trying to make the doll copy the poses of her sister. Whenever the doll fell the young child roared with laughter and then often fell over herself. Those whose families couldn't attend, sometimes sent messages instead. Braddon had never got one of those either. He had asked about his parents of course, but all he had been given was a name, just one. Ethanya, his mother. He was not the only one in this situation. A few of his classmates had no family to speak of either. In some of the more backwards far out planets, the birth of a sickly disfigured baby brought shame. Left and abandoned as soon as they were born. "The circumstances of one's birth does not affect their worth." He remembered a phrase from his lessons. His train of thought was interrupted by the sight of a child running towards him.
"Wanna play dodge?" The small figure asked. "We need one more to make the teams even, you'll be on my team wontcha?" He grinned eagerly and Braddon could see he was missing a tooth.
"Um, sure" Braddon said, turning to face the child.
"Sweet!" he replied eagerly as he turned and sprinted off in the direction he had come. "This way!"
A line had been drawn on the ground and there were 5 visitors and 2 students on each side. One of the visiting children held a bright orange ball near the centre of the court. She pointed to three cones at either end. "First team to hit all three wins!" she squawked clarifying the rules to the newcomers. She threw the ball and the game began. The shell children had superior accuracy and speed, however the softies had the advantage with maneuverability, and reachability, able to change direction quickly and reach out with their two long floppy arms. The appendages attached to Braddon's shell were not optimised for catching large fluorescent balls, and he opted to just ram the ball whenever his teammates 'passed' it to him. It was simple mathematics to figure out the correct velocity and angle needed to send it flying towards the cones on the other side. He charged and watched it miss the other team's members by millimeters before knocking over one of the cones. "Yeah! Nice one! Knew I shoulda picked you!" The three softies on his team came and patted his shell.
"Um, thanks?" He said, not used to the attention.
"No fair!" the girl who had started the game yelled.
"Braddon wasn't breaking any rules." Flax, one of the shell-people on her team defended him. The girl went red.
"I, I know. It's just fun to complain I guess." She ran off to get the ball for the next round.
Flax sent a blip privately to Braddon "Softies are weird!"
"Manners!" Braddon sent back along with a burst of colour that was the equivalent to a chuckle. They weren't meant to use the private comm link during visiting time, it made the other children feel isolated or something. It must be so limiting to be only able to communicate verbally!
The game continued back and forth, each team evenly matched, until one cone either side remained. The soft-people were still full of energy, but were starting to look a little wet and sticky with sweat. A child on his team held the ball and was deciding which shell-person to pass it to. Braddon calculated angles for both himself and his team-mate. One of the children on the other team shifted slightly and he saw an opening. "To me!" He called, the child threw the ball, Braddon knew the exact thrust needed to launch it perfectly between the opposition, he applied the appropriate power to his motors when all of a sudden something didn't feel quite right. His right wheel spun out faster than intended, he twisted as he hit the ball launching it in completely the wrong direction, one of the other children caught it, passed it to Flax who expertly launched it at their remaining cone. Braddon was too distracted to even attempt a block. The cone toppled over winning the game for Flax and his team. The children cheered. "Yay Flax!" "Nice pass Joey!" "We did it!"
Braddon went over what had just happened, he wasn't upset that they had lost, but he didn't understand why. I knew the right angle, I knew the required thrust, I have performed accurate maneuvers in my shell thousands of times. I slipped, there is no other way to describe it, I slipped! My motors must be damaged, that is the only logical conclusion.
His team mates brought him out of his thoughts with even more unnecessary touching. "Good try." "We almost had them." "You alright Braddon?" "Wanna play another round?"
"Um, thanks but no. I gotta go." He sped off towards the main building. The children watched him leave, probably thinking he was a sore loser.
Once he was out of the yard Headmaster Amik contacted him on the private shell-person frequency. Amik was the facility brain and oversought all operations at laboratory school. He provided surveillance, guidance, management, and even taught a few classes.
"Braddon, you alright? The visitors will be here for another 52 minutes, I know it is not your favourite activity, but you should partake in play with the other children."
"My motor is damaged, I am going to maintenance." Braddon said timidly. He didn't want to get in trouble with the headmaster, but he was a bit panicked about the thought of his body not doing what he wanted it to.
"What makes you think that?" Amik enquired warmly.
"I slipped!" Braddon cried, as if to emphasise his point his right motor suddenly sped up again and he vered slightly to the left. He sent a startled burst of color and static along the line, which must have convinced Amik.
"I will make sure Sally is ready for you." He informed.
"Thanks." Braddon replied as he continued down the hallway. Flax tried to contact him, but he blocked the link, he couldn't deal with that now. Eventually somehow he managed to make it to the maintenance workshop. In reality he had only jittered once more, but it felt like agony waiting for the next malfunction!
Sally turned to great him as he entered. "How's my favourite ray of sunshine?" She said as her bright ginger curls bobbed gently beside her freckled face. She wore a standard issue navy overall and strong thick black steel capped boots. The workshop was well organised with rows of tools hung neatly on the walls and a few larger pieces of machinery strategically placed around the room.
"You say that to everyone, I'm not your favourite." Braddon replied sourly.
"In this moment you are!" She replied with a wink. "Amik tells me you are having some motor problems? Can you tell me what happened?"
Braddon went about explaining what had happened out on the field and what he had experienced on the way to the workshop. She directed him to one of the lifts and took out one of her multimeter probes. Inserting them in different locations she directed Braddon to move his wheel forward and back at a variety of speeds. After 20 minutes of testing she sighed.
"Braddon, I can't find anything wrong with your motor, your maintenance logs are all up to date, it is well lubricated, no visible damage, and all the readings are coming back cleaner than my workbench on a Friday afternoon!" Friday was when the cleaners came through, and she always did a pre-clean before they arrived. "Are you sure that you aren't just feeling a little upset over losing the game?"
Braddon was mortified, they thought he was faking?! The one thing worse than having his body disobey him was having those around him not believe him. "What?! No! I know what I felt, something must be wrong!"
"Braddon, it's ok. We believe you." Came the calm voice of Amik. "We are just puzzled is all. The readings are clean."
Doubts started to creep into his mind, what if I had been a little emotional? What if that caused me to temporarily lose motor control on my way back here?
"You are still very young" Sally continued warmly. "At your age, it is quite common to have an occasional slip, your mind is still developing after all. Keep an eye on it, and you can race straight back here if it happens again ok?" She had crouched down to look directly into his vision sensor.
"Maybe I was a little, um, flustered?" Braddon admitted. Flustered is less embarrassing than upset right?
A few days later during voice training they were practicing reciting poetry. It took a lot of practice and control to artificially create the emotive sounds that were second nature to those born with functional mouths. Brandon's own lungs were filled with a specialised oxygen rich fluid, and his throat was cluttered with various tubes. A lot of his classmates (himself included) still had a hint of an artificial tinny sound similar to that of a drone. He was practicing reciting limericks when suddenly his voice increased momentarily in both pitch and volume. The class fell silent, then a couple of students snickered quietly.
"You alright Brandon?" Asked the teacher, a softie who was from the theater, and had a good knowledge of annunciation.
"Um, Yes sir," Brandon replied nervously "must be going through puberty." On the last syllable he skweaked his voice on purpose and the class erupted in laughter. Even the teacher couldn't suppress a grin as they shook their head.
"Come on now, let's stay focused." The students all began reciting their poems once more.
Thoughts raced through Brandon's head as he continued reading at a much reduced volume. The first time hadn't been on purpose, it had been an accident. Brains couldn't afford to have accidents. You didn't want to accidently release the airlock at the wrong time, or accidently cut out your thrusters when coming in for a landing, there was no room for error! After class was a free study period, he chose to head to one of the private booths to practice his voice training. After 35 minutes of fast, near intelligible babbling it happened again. His voice squeaked, slipped. "What is happening to me?"
Amik's voice came over the speaker in the room. "Braddon, you alright? Having trouble with your voice lessons?"
"No, something is wrong, my voice is squeaking, my wheels are slipping, I, I "
"Shhh" calming river sounds filled the room "Braddon, everything is ok. No need to get so worked up over a little voice warble." Amik almost yodelled the last word.
Braddon couldn't help but giggle. "I guess not."
"Do you want Sally to check over your speaker?"
"Sure." He started to head back to maintenance, feeling like he was in trouble. Sally greeted him as cheerfully as usual. "My favourite customer! Back for more!"
"Hi Sally." He felt embarrassed, like that time he had burnt out a motor after doing too many donuts.
"Having trouble with your speaker?"
"Yeah. A little, it is probably nothing."
"No trouble, I like a good mystery!" She winked. "Do you mind if I disconnect your main speaker for a moment? I've got a backup ready and waiting." She patted a small box on the workbench. "Freshly tested, good as new. You always have the backup unit you can use if you need to tell me something while I've got you unhooked alright?" She paused waiting for his consent, screwdriver in hand. Disconnecting and reconnecting anything attached to his nervous system was never pleasurable. Fiddling with his main nerve connections required anesthesia, but this link was further down the line.
"Sure Sally, go ahead."
"We can stop whenever you want," she continued, while already working away at the panel containing the main speaker. "Let me know if anything feels off, ah, nice." She placed the panel gently on the workbench. Her hands moved swiftly, Braddon winced slightly as the old unit was removed, but before he even had time to contemplate his missing output the new one was in place and Sally was already screwing the access panel back into place. "There! How'd I do?" She said with a cheeky grin, turning her head to look at one of Amik's cameras.
"52 seconds." Came a glum sounding reply.
"Amik bet I couldn't do it in under a minute." She whispered to Braddon.
"But you didn't run the proper tests before sealing the panel." Amik grumbled.
"It works fine! doesn't it Braddon?"
"Um, yes, I guess it does." Braddon said, surprised to find that he sounded exactly the same, and that it felt exactly the same, like this was the mouthpiece he had been using for years, rather than the small box sitting on the bench.
"It will take me awhile to look this one over." Sally said while lifting the old speaker in her hand. "No reason for you to stick around, I'll let you know if I find anything." She grinned encouragingly. Braddon already knew in his heart that she wouldn't find anything, and if there was nothing wrong with the hardware, then the problem had to be further up the line. Circuits can be fixed, brains? Not so much…
"Sure Sally." He said glumly as he headed back to class.
Braddon's 'slips' had continued, and Amik had encouraged him to start keeping a log. There weren't that many really, often days went by without any, but then a handful came all at once. Young shell children needed sleep, like any normal child. However the quantity needed rapidly declined as they matured, and many outgrew the requirement entirely. There was a period of 5 hours each night of stand-down, when the children were encouraged to have some quiet restful relaxation in their quarters, and sleep as required. Braddon still needed almost 4 hours of sleep each 24, which, unknown to him, was much higher than the average. One morning after a particularly vivid dream he stirred, bringing up his speakers, listening to the sound of light rain on his window. He brought up his forward facing camera and, nothing. He brought up his forward facing camera, and, still nothing. He panicked calling out to Amik on the private comm "Amik! Help! I can't see!" His response was immediate.
"Can you hear?"
"Yes, I hear rain."
"Are all your camera's down?"
"All my? Oh right." He brought up his rear and side facing cameras and was greeted with a near complete view of his room, he rotated his shell so that he could see the raindrops trickling down the window with his side camera.
"No, just my forward facing one. I can see." He felt foolish for calling for help immediately, instead of troubleshooting the problem. The door to his room whizzed open revealing a panting medic and technician. Sensory deprivation was every shell-person's worst nightmare, Amick hadn't hesitated in calling the cavalry.
"It's ok, guys, just a drill." Amick said over the speakers, saving Braddon the embarrassment of explaining why he had cried wolf once again. He tried to bring up his camera once more and there was still nothing there. Once the med techs had left Amick started gently humming with his soft musical voice. Braddon listened and watched the rain. Like a child being rocked by their mother after they had fallen and scraped a knee. After a few minutes Amik spoke. "Child, what happened?"
"It's rejection isn't it? Please! I don't want to be left in the dark!" Even these days the process of encapsulation was riscky, there were those who never adapted to the artificial nerve connections.
Warm colours, and gentle sounds flowed through the comm link. "This is not rejection, and I would never leave you alone in the dark."
That was true enough, he saw the speed at which the med techs had just bust down his door. He soaked in Amik's calm comforting presence for a moment longer before asking: "Then what is happening to me?"
"I have a theory, and if I am right, it is nothing to worry about." Amik continued to hum, sending streams of light and colour that had once been used to comfort the newly encapsulated infant. He trusted the headmaster, the closest thing he had to a parent. He wanted to stay in this warm embrace, but knew eventually it must end. The colours faded, the sounds dulled, and he was left in his room watching the rain.
"Where are you up to in your human physiology lessons?" Amik enquired. Braddon knew he could just look it up, but sometimes it was polite to feign ignorance.
"Just covered the basics, digestive, respiratory and cardiac systems."
"Well you are about to receive an advanced lesson in neural development. Do you have a good view of the screen?" Amick flashed some of the sections on the wall which doubled as a display. Braddon angled his shell to get a better view with his right side camera, he could still watch the rain with his left. "Yeah, all good."
"When we are very young, even before we are born, our brains begin to form. Our neural pathways grow and multiply, branching out like a big strong tree." On the wall appeared an image of a seedling bursting through the soil and quickly bursting, branching, forking every which way until a massive shaggy tree took up the entirety of the wall. "This growth continues for some months after birth, which is why encapsulation is usually not completed until at least 6 months after a child's due date."
This was the first Braddon had heard of this, he had always assumed he had been placed directly into his shell very soon after birth. The thought of his weakened body lying out in the open all exposed for months made him shudder. He pushed the thought aside, Amik was continuing.
"After this point, growth is completed, but the brain is not yet fully formed. As we mature from children to adults, a gardner comes along and does some pruning." Braddon watched as small twigs and leaves started to fall from various parts of the tree. "The gardener decides what is useful, needed, and what it is able to support, and trims the excess, leaving a robust, streamlined, fully functional brain." Indeed the tree looked tidier, more organised than the tangled mess of branches it had been at the start. "I fear, that in your case, the gardener is being, well, a little heavy handed." Braddon watched in dismay as a couple of large branches snapped off close to the trunk leaving large gaps in the thinning canopy. He nervously waited for the next branch to fall.
"What about the other branches?" He stammered, "are they going to fall off too?"
"Unlikely." Amik continued calmly. "Even without these branches, the tree is able to develop, strengthen, and thrive." He watched as seasons whizzed by, and the trunk and branches thickened out, patches of foliage formed in new locations now open to light, the gaps didn't fill in, but the tree looked complete somehow.
"I'm going to be ok?" Braddon asked timidly.
"If I'm right, yes, you are going to be fine." Amik said confidently. "Do you know how many neural connections we attached to you? Far more than needed because we know that some are going to fail, it happens to everyone. Can I see the log you have been keeping?" Braddon obediently sent over the small data file containing all of his 'slips'. "Hmmm." There was a moment of quiet as Braddon watched a bluebird flutter into the tree and start making a nest. Amik couldn't be too worried if he was still keeping up the display. "I am a little concerned," Amik began slowly, "that so many different functions were affected in quick succession. We are going to need to run some tests." The bird fluttered away, presumably to get some more twigs, Braddon's heart sank at the thought of med-techs messing around with his nerve connections.
Braddon wheeled himself over to the head med-tech's lab. Compared to Sally's pristine workshop, this was a rats nest of cables, computers, half drunk beverages, gadgets and gizmos, as well as stacks and stacks of paper. "Sorry about the mess Braddon." Came the husky voice of Professor Finneus. "Caught me on one of those days." He continued while running his fingers through his hair and smiling half-heartedly. No one was buying his excuse and he knew it. This kind of clutter did not accumulate in a day.
"Amik mentioned a test?" Braddon said quietly, he was nervous. Despite how reassuring Amik had been, there was something unusual enough going on with him to warrant the full attention of the head of neurology.
"Yes, yes, the test." Finneus started rummaging through the multitude of objects on one of the cluttered benches before pulling out a large black plug that branched out towards many smaller cables. "Aha, yes, yes, this will do nicely."
"It looks like a simulation plug."
"Indeed it is, we are going to use your simulation socket and then at the end of these cables... " He traced them back through the clutter "I have various sensors and instruments that will help me determine the strength of each neural link."
"Just like a simulation, no anesthesia?"
"Of course not! If you were asleep, how could you tell me if the connection was active? Yes, just like a simulation I guess, well a very long and boring simulation. Best to get started, could you come a bit closer? The lead won't stretch that far." It might have been able to stretch if it wasn't tangled around so much stuff. Braddon thought as he positioned himself closer. Just like when preparing for connection to one of the simulations he shut down all sensory inputs connected to his main plug to help minimise the shock. He watched Finneus insert the plug, listened for the locking sound and confirmation, then dove into the new inputs just like if he were in a simulation, bursts of static, high pitched beeping, and bright flashes bombarded him. "Akc!" He vocalised, while he quickly withdrew. "That, is nothing like a simulation."
Finneus eyes grew wide, and he quickly spun around to look at the nearest display.
"Oh my, so sorry, was working on one of the configuration files, and must have left it running." His fingers tapped away on the keyboard.
Braddon reached out to Amik on the private channel. "Amik, you sure this guy knows what he is doing?"
Amik sent back the equivalent of a sigh. "Finneus has his, er, shortcomings. But I assure you he is very good at what he does. He has the most incredible focus. You'll see."
Braddon watched Finneus as he continued to tap away, he still wasn't completely convinced. "You'll be watching though right?"
"Of course."
Finneus had started talking again, "Braddon, I'm sending you a map of all of your neural connections. Braddon caught the file and stored it in his memory banks. It contained a single line diagram showing each and every one of his delicate neural connections and their current configuration. Most were connected to his simulation plug, a small number were hard wired into his backup Helva unit whose primary function was to prevent sensory deprivation in case of main system failure. A number of other links were connected to his chair, multiple visual, audio sensors, speakers, comms links, wireless transmitters and receivers, memory and computational links, as well as a number of unassigned spares. It was bizarre seeing it all laid out, like a cryptic self portrait. Finneus continued, "Now if I asked you to activate optic nerve ON-143-A I am guessing you would not know where to start, just like if someone asked me to move muscle 43-X I wouldn't understand that they were asking me to wiggle my pinky." He wiggled his finger excitedly. "What we need is a frame of reference, I see your most common simulation is scout ship type C? Yes, yes, well I am sending over the configuration for that simulation." Another data file streamed in, more complicated than the first, outlying each and every connection between the simulation plug and the virtual ship. "Oh my." Braddon gasped. It kind of felt dirty, like he was seeing someone naked, but the intricacies amazed him.
"Now when I ask you to look for optical nerve ON-143-A we can see that is linked to, er, the cargo bay aft side camera, and hopefully you will have an easier time locating my sensor probe. OK let's get started!"
They went about testing each and every nerve connection individually, starting with the optic nerves. The test device appeared to flash different coloured lights in various dot dash patterns which Braddon would convert to binary and feed back to the computer, the flashes were sped up until Braddon was no longer able to interpret the signal. The process was repeated for a number of different wavelengths before moving on to the next nerve. Professor Finneus was indeed incredibly focused, once the testing had started he became incredibly efficient. He sifted through all the data Braddon was sending with ease, checking it against the signals he was interpreting and then announcing the next connection on the list of hide and seek Braddon was playing inside his own mind. Despite Finneus' speech the nerves were pretty easy to locate once all the other testing devices had been switched off, he simply had to scan for the only active connection. After a number of hours he noticed a servo bring in a tray with some food and a steaming beverage. Finneus accepted the meal placing it on his lap, for a lack of any clear table space, and ate without even taking his eyes off the screen. The other inputs were all similar, convert the signal to binary, signal increases speed until it became inintelligible. While only one sensor was ever active at a time it was incredibly taxing on Braddon's concentration. A few hours later Finneus' face started to scrunch into a frown. Two nerves later he tapped out a sequence of commands that paused the test. "Braddon, are you alright? The odds of 5 partial failures in a row are astronomically small, and it seems like your top speed has been declining over the past hour, I know this isn't the most exciting activity, but I need you to give it your full attention."
"Sorry, I'm trying, really, I'm just a bit tired is all. My usual sleep cycle is not for a few hours, I can keep going."
"Sleep? Oh." As if aware of his surroundings for the first time, he glanced down at his wrist watch before looking around the room at the now darkened window while running his fingers through his short wavy hair. "That might be a good idea. We'll have to redo the last few links after we have both had some rest." He got up from his chair, then jumped in surprise as the empty plate from his lap tumbled to the floor. "Oh my." He wandered over and carefully disconnected the simulation plug.
Braddon was driving through a virtual maze, but he kept stumbling upon dead ends with big flashing warning signs reading OPTIC NERVE FAILURE, or MOTOR NEURON FAILURE. His wheels skidded this way and that as he bumped into walls. He decided to fly his toy drone upwards hoping that a bird's eye view could help him find a way out of the maze. From the air he could see that the maze was the circuit diagram from earlier, his circuit diagram, and there were red spots flashing all over. IMMINENT SYSTEM FAILURE wailed a siren. The drone lost power and he fell into darkness.
"Aahh!" He awoke with a start and quickly brought up all of his sensors. Just a dream. Safe in my room. He didn't yet have full control over all of his hormonal feeds, his body was still developing after all. Some extra nutrients, he could do that.
"Braddon, you up?" Amik asked
"Um, yeah." Damn, he wished that adrenalin would just go away already.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Um, well enough, I guess I had a bit of a bad dream, but I'm ok, really. Should I head back to Finneus' lab?"
"Wouldn't do much good I'm afraid." Amik brought up a picture on the wall of Finneus lying in a very uncomfortable looking position on a couch in a staff lounge. He was still wearing his lab coat, although his shoes at least were placed haphazardly on the floor beside the couch. A bit of drool was dripping out of his open mouth and he could hear a slight snore.
"Isn't that private?" Braddon whispered, shocked that Amik would abuse his privileges.
"It is public space, and I did warn him, told him to go home, he never listens." Amik sounded very resigned, there would be no changing Finneus. "I swear, he would just collapse of exhaustion, dehydration or malnutrition without someone watching over him! He's going to need a few more hours."
"I should catch up on my classes." Braddon said dryly. He had spent all of yesterday with Finneus and had missed quite a few lessons. He reached out to the school AI, but found his access blocked.
"What, I don't have access?"
"No you don't!" Said Amik cheerfully, "You are due for some recreational time Braddon, yesterday was tough, and you deserve it. You have at least four hours before Finneus is likely to surface. What would you like to do?"
He looked over at his toy drone sitting on the shelf. It had been a gift for his 5th birthday, from Amik. A simple childrens toy with 4 rotors and a large foam ring such that even if it were to crash into someone's face due to a gust of wind, it was unlikely to cause any damage. It had two cameras, one downward facing, and one forward facing. It was intended to be controlled by a small wireless controller, Braddon had analysed the signals it gave off and sent them through a special signal booster on the roof which allowed him to fly further afield without actually leaving the school. There were no audio or tactile pickups, very basic indeed, but he loved the feel of whizzing through the air. Not quite as exciting as the brainship simulations, but the scenery was worth it.
"Um, can I go to the park?"
"What a splendid idea!" came Amik's hearty reply as the window slid open.
Braddon piloted the drone over the 2km of sprawling buildings before heading down to the dense green area that was Sephemore Park. There was a large Ginko tree in the centre which had been planted hundreds of year prior. He circled the tree with his drone, spiralling upwards, downloading the video into his memory banks for later processing. The tree was beautiful, huge, and strong. Large symmetrical branches spanned 15m and the canopy was easily 25m tall. It was early summer and the tree was full of lush green leaves. The ginko tree was amazing, but not quite what he was looking for. He went off in search of his tree. The park was maintained meticulously, sensors in the soil could determine the water output required by the sprinkler system. The trees flourished, and most were too perfect looking for what he was after. Eventually he found the one. There was a tree that had been damaged by a storm a few years back. One of the main branches had snapped and fell off completely. Since then time had worn away the jagged edges, new foliage had formed where there was now access to sunlight, there was still a large obvious gap, but it looked complete somehow. Strong even. He got to work circling the tree, saving all of the precious footage, before bringing back the drone after the battery warning light came on.
"Amik look! Look what I made!" He couldn't contain his excitement anymore. He brought up the holographic display in the centre of his room and displayed his rendered tree in all of its glory. There was a delay before Amik answered, Braddon instantly felt guilty for monopolising Amik's precious time, there was a lot that went on behind the scenes at laboratory school.
"You made that? You sure it is not a stock image?"
"I created it from images my drone took, was a bit tricky, the leaves kept moving, but then I realised I could use that to my advantage to create a sort of animation." The leaves started to shake around as if being blown by a very lifelike breeze.
"Wow, very nice. I didn't realise you had taken any animation, or graphics processing units yet."
"Huh? No, it is just simple algebra, the distance and angle of each image from the camera."
There was a moment of silence as the tree continued to rustle in the wind.
"You created that, from first principles, in less than 2 hours?"
"Um, yeah, is that bad?"
"It's brilliant! You should show Cynthia the art teacher, she will love it."
He felt warm, happy, it meant so much to hear Amik praise him.
"Did you notice? It is like the tree you showed me yesterday, it was damaged, see? But it survived, kept going, and well, I think it is going to be ok."