“I’ve had a revelation, Doc,” said Jacob Allan Gibbs, suspended in an empty white room, “I don’t trust my Father.”
“That’s quite… that’s quite the revelation,” replied Dr. Natalie Dower-06, almost as if she was seated in the air, levitating across the room, adorned with minor but significant cybernetic enhancements, imprinting the words unto a projected digital page with her blue mechanical eye.
“I’ve always admired my father,” said Jacob, levitating an inch from the floor, pivoting in the air with the metal implants around his joints – unable to stay still.
The white walls around Jacob project images of Raymond Allan Gibbs, a master – no, a pioneer of Neural-engineering, “I admired his incredible intellect, his wit, charisma, and accomplishments, both as a family man and a scientist.”
The projected image lingers on an engram, a preserved narrative of Raymond opening presents with his family – the memory slowly begins to play across every wall before gradually transitioning to Raymond’s crown achievement – The “engram” microchip.
“By every conceivable definition of the word,” Jacob places his hand on the back of his head, caressing the glowing ports attached to his cerebellum, “he was the perfect human being.”
“Was? As in, the past?” Asked Dr. Dower gently, attempting to establish eye contact with her patient, “what caused the distrust – this rift between you and your father?”
Jacob pauses for a second, carefully contemplating the intent behind his words as the white walls turn blank as he struggles to come up with an answer.
A rustling noise echoes through a dark room – an office decorated by a slew of medical diplomas and Avant-garde paintings. There are four security cameras in every top corner of the room with beeping red dots – save for one, which turns purple between every three blinks. The beeping stops as the cameras lower their head towards the floor. Jacob gently opens the door with the help of an implant – emerging from his finger like a swiss-army knife.