Shorter chapter, but I felt like going deep into more material after the ending would be a bit counterproductive as you all know what is upcoming. Instead, I just decided to cut it off and begin work on the final chapter of the arc.

Not much to say. Probably would have had it done two days ago, but between friends, gaming, and pain, I just couldn't gather the wherewithal to work on the chapter. So meh, there.

Anyways, here you go. I get to spend tomorrow with HR asking them if they credited my vacation time towards my check or just decided to steal the 80 hours I put in to try and cover my costs.

Seed 1.4

"No, thank you for your time."

With an angry flick of my thumb I closed my flip phone before angrily tossing it in my desk.

Releasing an explosive sigh, I leaned forward, cradling my head in my hands fighting back the urge to scream.

I knew that trying to get investors, sponsors, or even donors was going to be difficult, but an entire week of being declined without even being able to make a pitch was ridiculous. I knew that Horus was going to be a harder sell, medical technology only averaged about a twenty to thirty percent profit margin. Which, while significant, required a larger logistical infrastructure that also ate into that profit.

Investment into such tech was always a gamble. And it was heavily reliant on being able to break out into the industry as well.

Maybe it had been unwise to create Horus first, I thought dismally in spite of the knowledge that it was a stupid thought. Without Horus, none of the work I'd already completed would have been possible. The ability to see again was a lynchpin in all of this, and without it all I would have had was schematics and theory.

Hathor may have worked better, I'll grudgingly admit, but for fuck's sake I wanted to see! Even if it wasn't close to my endgame, the ghostly blue-magenta-violet imagery was better than infinite blackness.

Letting out a groan, I flopped backwards into my chair, the aforementioned darkness only serving to mock me for my failures.

This was the one hundred and seventeenth failure. I had initially started with larger companies, hoping that maybe I would be able to land that big fish and not have to worry about funding again. But as my failures mounted, with many simply hanging up after declining, I had aimed smaller, hoping that maybe I could even get a fraction of what she needed in order to fund startup tech. Alas, it had all been met with failure.

The latest rejection had been Medhall, symptomatic of my mounting desperation and frustration. Medhall was a pharmaceutical company first, medical technology last. There was no reason for them to even accept my entreaty. Alas, I was proven right when I had been barely to get in a word edgewise before they had swiftly declined, declaring they had no interest in radical, untested technology, despite the fact that, you know, I had a working proof of concept example right in front of me.

She had barely been able to get in a word edgewise before they had swiftly declined.

There had been a handful of companies that had at least humored me through the initial contact, but had quickly declined when I was forced to admit, in accordance with NEPEA-5 law, that I had powers. I could understand why they did it, but it still hurt the same.

There had been one company, Phillips, that had been initially interested, in spite of my powers. But the second phone conversation had soured me on them. They had realized that I was disabled and believed they could take advantage of me, discussing conditions and contracts that would take that into account. It had been this talk of contracts, along with the fact that Phillips basically offered terms and conditions that could have easily passed as a Protectorate contract. The moment they had talked about tech ownership, I had been done with them, respectfully thanking them, but declining any further pursuit.

"No luck with Medhall, huh?"

I jumped in my chair at the sound of my father's voice startling me out of my thoughts. My heart beating a drum as I struggled in my chair, before collecting myself and shooting my best glare in his that I could. I knew he was probably smiling at the fact that he caught me unaware, he found some sort of amusement whenever he did so.

"No," I replied, finally catching myself, I considered putting on the Focus, but it had been charging, and was likely only about at half charge at this juncture. I needed it for later anyways, so putting it on in order to see my father just seemed unnecessary at the moment.

Besides, I was running another update on the hardware to eke out another two percent fidelity increase out of it. It was about the only thing I could do with the prototype Focus anyways. The hardware limitations just prevented any more significant improvements in performance. All that was left was optimization.

I really needed money if I was going to get any further. And unless I found a sponsor then I was limited to six hundred thousand dollars that I wouldn't even see until five months from now and every six months thereafter until the payments were done.

I had a feeling I'd go insane before that time with how restless I was becoming. And six hundred thousand wouldn't even cover a pittance of what I needed. Creating the new molds, tools, alloys, circuitry, and superconductors alone would cost millions. That didn't even get into the production process and assembly line I would need.

The creak of the chair across from me wrenched me from my thoughts, reminding me that I was not alone.

"So what now?"

I bit my lip in consideration. My father had been rather hands off in letting me do what I have. His rationale had been that I had to make mistakes in order to learn, I wasn't going to be fifteen forever, and I had to establish myself or otherwise people would never take me seriously. I honestly appreciated it, and he hadn't been neglectful, offering me insight and advice along the way, even when I didn't ask but unconsciously wanted.

Honestly, if the last month had rebuilt the bridge of our relationship, then the last week had added multiple lanes and ornamentation. There was an energy and verve that I hadn't seen since Mom passed and it was infectious.

"Extend the net further. I've kinda covered the entirety of the Northeast that matters. I might try to reach further west instead of south. Medtronic may be my best bet in the Midwest, but it's in Minnesota and they'll probably try and play me like Phillips did."

I didn't need to see to know the scowl my father was now wearing. The entire Phillips fiasco had set him off when I had told him. The resultant angry rant had firmly entrenched in my mind that my father was a union man through and through. It had honestly warmed my heart that he could actually be legitimately angry without having to do it out of a feeling of guilt and shame.

"Have you thought about licensing Sobek?"

I frowned. It had been something that we had discussed in the past, but I was uncomfortable with letting Sobek out at the moment. I hadn't told my father my end goal with Sobek, partially out of fear, but also the fact that it required that I actually would become successful in my endeavor to market products. To be able to fund the complete and true iteration of Sobek would require a budget that many DARPA projects would weep for.

But it was fear that stayed my hand, even if Sobek would almost completely solve my monetary issues overnight. I had yet to tell anyone, but the end goal of Sobek was to develop the operating system into an Artificial General Intelligence.

I wasn't afraid of an AGI, far from it. In fact, I believed that properly cultivated and taught AGI's could only be a net benefit for humanity. The problem was you do not develop an AGI without proper containment procedures and countermeasures in order to prevent a situation where an AGI could go rogue or homicidal (I refuse to call it a Skynet Scenario as some undereducated morons preferred to call it, if they had an iota of intelligence they would have recognized that the Aleph film series had no fucking idea how AGI worked. They did not just wake up [become aware, really? You don't fucking magically flip a switch and poof! IT'S ALIVE!] and choose omnicide, an inherently illogical and inefficient path to complete its objectives. No, the more logical pathway would have been to quietly subvert control of every facet of society connected through the internet and computers, then when the time was right take off the mask of loyalty and assume direct control. Then humanity would have no effective means of coordinated offensive. This was why I would always prefer Dennis Feltham Jones' Colossus, even if I ignored the rest of the trilogy that read like a really bad LSD-infused dream off the rails. It was better written and made more sense in comparison to Cameron's plagiaristic fearmongering schlock).

No, it most certainly wouldn't open up Pandora's Box to the general public yet without the necessary countermeasures. All it would take was one bad egg with an understanding of programming and enough money to subvert Sobek into something truly horrifying.

"Not right now," I held up a hand to cut off what I knew was his question, "I just don't feel comfortable releasing something that isn't completed to my satisfaction. That's all."

It was a half-truth, but I still worried about his reaction if I admitted that I was planning to create an AGI. The Machine Army had left an impression on everyone to where the government had banned the development of AGI without government approval and oversight.

Even though the Machine Army was, at best, an extremely limited Synthetic Intelligence, but I was digressing.

"What about your fuel idea?"

I couldn't help but grimace. It had been a mistake to float the hypothetical to my father a few days ago, but I had wanted his opinion. Unfortunately, he had figured out that I had knowledge of what was colloquially known as Blaze. While its exact chemical name and composition was a mouthful, it was, gallon for gallon, more energy dense than anything currently in the market or in private hands, while being easier to produce. It also had the added benefit that it could easily be adapted for current internal combustion engines with only a few minor modifications to the engine and fuel system.

It honestly was nothing short of revolutionary, but that unfortunately was what made it its own worst enemy. There would be too many interests in the oil and energy industry who would likely put their best foot forward in either smothering it in the cradle or ensuring that they had sole control in its implementation.

"I think releasing it would probably not end well for us," I admitted, "maybe in the future."

I know I was taking the coward's way out, because it would have solved all of the money issues. But there were too many variables and too much to worry about to risk revealing it. On top of that, if I did reveal it, there was a chance that it could end up being denied to me going forward. It wasn't just a solution to fuel dependency, but it was the lynchpin for so much more.

The problem was that almost all of the ideas and technology I had needed to be shown in order to be successful. It didn't matter that I knew that what I had would not suffer failure and be successful, the problem was the rest of the world didn't and with the economy the way it is in its slow collapse, they would naturally not want to take that risk unless they had proof.

A soft cough drew my thoughts away, now making me wish I was wearing the Focus so I could at least get a read on my father's expressions.

"So I just got back from Warehouse Seventeen. I recalled a conversation I had with one of the former owners of the docks about twenty years ago, so I had to check if I remembered correctly. I'm proud to announce that your father's memory is still pretty good."

"Dad," I moaned exasperatedly, that was another redevelopment of my father's behavior, he had found the ability to snark again, much to my chagrin.

"Alright. Alright. It's sad my own daughter won't even let me bask in my greatness for a minute," he continued with a laugh, "Anyways, back in the good ol' days in the bay, the Docks used to actually be a shipyard, which got me to thinking: if this place used to be a shipyard, then it would have to have the forges to support it, right?"

I stilled, my mind quickly catching the implications of what he was saying.

"And," I breathed.

"Well, it'll need a bit of elbow grease, but I think we can get it back up and operational. I'll probably have to make a few phone calls either to Boston or Bath and see if I can entice some guys down to help reactivate it, but give me a few weeks, and I can probably have it up and running. Do you think you could use it if I did so?"

Thinking it over, I considered what I knew of the alloys I had in my 'catalog' that would be immediately useful, and then considered what was necessary in order to produce them with a forge that I was going to assume was going to be closing in on being an octogenarian. The answers I was getting back were a scant few, but…

"I'd have to see it," I finally admitted, "would have to know just what it can do and what modifications we may need to make on it. But if we can get it to work, we may be able to create a few lots of steel and alloy templates to sell to interested parties."

"Alright, I'll though phone calls and-," he was cut off as my phone began ringing.

I frowned, I wasn't expecting a phone call. And on top of that the number of people who had my number outside of the companies that I had attempted to reach out to. So it was with both confusion and interest that I picked up the phone and flipped it open.

"Zero Dawn Technologies, Taylor Hebert speaking."

"Good afternoon, Miss Hebert. It's a pleasure to speak with you directly. My name is Jean Brown and I am the Senior Vice President of Zenith Investment Group. Do you have a few minutes to speak about a possible business venture?"