‘What anomaly, sir?’ asked Bruce, now clearly very anxious.
The supervisor did not reply, but his frown began to morph into a look of absolute horror.
‘He’s picking up something from the psynet,’ suggested Alan, who was also growing very concerned. He’d never seen anything like this before.
‘Yes,’ replied Bruce, ‘but I can’t access the traffic, can you?’
Alan, along with all the hybrids, had access to the Sponsors’ psynet, an alien internet of sorts but one where the connections were purely mental and the transmission of data instantaneous. It could have been a treasure trove of information but unfortunately the Sponsors had seen fit to add numerous “parental controls” that effectively rendered it useless as a knowledge database. Alan could only access information that related to his work, and a few other boring features, like accurate weather forecasts! By the sounds of it Bruce was similarly constrained. But who knew what the regional supervisor was seeing, or experiencing? The psynet, when it did grant access, was remarkably immersive.
Alan attempted to gain access. Hmm, it seemed to be down, but the supervisor was clearly picking up something. He tried again and this time noticed a knot of activity, but it was more than a knot – all activity within their bizarre cyberspace was concentrated here – wherever here was. As expected, Alan found himself blocked and was about to pull out when he decided to play a hunch. Yes! The rest of the psynet did still exist – as a sort of framework, more like the internet now – and there were no lockouts in evidence! He’d have to move quickly, normal service could be resumed at any moment. He began to search for information on the Sponsors’ overall mission here on Earth. What was their master plan? Bombarded with an overload of data, Alan stopped and tried again; he needed a more specific question.
What are the Sponsors doing to our genomes? There was the answer: Nothing! They had barely tampered with our genetics since the beginning. But weren’t we hominids back then? Wait, there was a huge chunk of data on something called epigenetics. Alan began to read but struggled with the onslaught of alien techno-babble…
The supervisor suddenly screamed and Alan was forced to abandon his searches.
‘One of our brethren has been destroyed! There is an enemy… there is an enemy… the controller is imperilled, exposed!!’ He then slumped, apparently unconscious.