Conscience Control

Dampening sound was done and damping gravity was a thing, but Wade's amplifier was an entirely new use of those technologies.  Jen and Wade could make music but were novices controlling the networked amp, Lucky was expert at both playing the music, and controlling the amp though his infection.  Stand's to reason: Lucky, had been infected the longest out of their crew, and pre-infection had carried an implanted for years.  In fact, Wade and Jen had known Lucky for all their lives, and could not remember him not having an implant.  I, on the other hand know the specific time and date he was first logged in.  Prior to that, I can only glean the memories of mom, dad, Ted, and of course Lucky.  From what I can gather, the one thing that he was good at during his isolated years, was playing music.  After his first log in, it became clear that his visceral musical ability translated to a masterful command of the network, and when infected, the synergy between Lucky and the network was a force to behold.  Un or fortunately Wade was the only person to realise this aptitude of his and built a suite of technology around it, Lucky's favorite is the amplifier, and is a master of it.  He work's his bass guitar in conjunction with the amp's damping field's, commandeers the beat and channel's it to Jen and Wade. Controlling your self and playing along with Lucky, is like lucid dreaming, if you know it's a dream it's hard not to break the spell and wake up

Reply all

"I was up north evangelizing on the finer points of the greaseless chain; those ninnies up there, insist on smearing a barrel of grease on each link; well,,, the dirt and dust gets caught in the grease and forces the gears out of place, chain slacks, and off it comes; where as a clean chain, brushed every once in while with a wire brush, will last longer and not pull everything out of alignment.  I had the sides up on the harvester and had crawled into the straw walker, scraping the build up of grease off a connecting rod, and was into the lengthy summation of my sermon on the greaseless chain when I was hit by a laconic spasm.  This must have been the point when Jen's fear level, triggered that encrypted message. My sermon stopped and in a pre-reflexive fit I began to bang out a rhythm on that greasy piece of solid metal.  The whole machine became engulfed in my drumming; inside that web metal the sound was intense, Scary to say the least; and as I was painfully drumming out that hymn, I too triggered an involuntary encrypted message to Heather,L.J. and Lucky; who were thankfully not in motion at the time.  All very bewildering, and even more so for those greasers.  Evidently those two had slowly drifted away in an effort to remain ignorant of the virtues of the dry chain, and were not aware of the abrupt end to my lecture, but could hear my song ringing out of the harvester, thought it was time for the hymn and started ah singing along.  I was apparently receiving multiple messages from those in our cell then decrypting them; hitting the adrenalin threshold for another involuntary send, then re-encrypting a new 'reply all' message: stuck in a reply all message loop.  Finally somebody set an:'AutoReplyEnabled $False', and I could stop the drumming; but the chain greasers kept on singing while I was crawling out, and only stopped when I bowed my head in silence."

Solidifying at, 110 and 144 hz.

All three had synched up their rhythms and took a little bit of effort and time to make sure at least one person was hitting the magic 110 hz and 144 hz notes at all times.  Wades cylinder was working perfectly, performing the acoustic allusion they were deep underground in cave roughly ten feet in diameter, engaged in technologically advanced version of a throat song.

It's damp outside.

 Wade tapped his foot: one,two,three, the tune was a trance grass favorite: Jen on the bass Banjo, Lucky thumping on the big acoustic Bass, and Wade on the Dobro.  The three were sitting around a cylindrically shaped amplifier that Wade had tweaked to cancel out,or dampen, parts of the electromagnetic spectrum (radio), most acoustic waves, and high frequency gravitational waves, ([H.F.G.W.] *reportedly, the recently infected, had no E.M.I. interference with their link, it had been theorized the machine had evolved to use that communications spectrum) and with each instrument keyed into the amps receiver -- the musicians only heard a perfectly balanced audio landscape of what they were playing, no link interference, no outside audio interference, and the strange effects of the H.F.G.W. damping field.  It was a long tune, Jen played a quick riff, "evidently the send pass code, was for me to play my dashboard like a pair of bongo's, embarrassing.  That kid in the pit walked up to see why I hadn't taken off, took one look, gave a thumbs ups, walked back and started drumming out a tune on the side of the bed,  saved our ass".

Cascade

Jen hit the juice, the electric motor thumped up an and the hydraulic drive whined as the truck went forward as fast as it could.  Nobody tried butting in line, but she wasn't going to let anybody have second thoughts.  Into the shadow of the towering elevator enveloped by a cloud of dust, and though the pit one entry bay; clank and bump over the grate, a kid in the dust slid buy.  Pressing back in the seat, looking though the side mirrors until he held out his hand, palm forward, and she stopped, and lifted the bed.  Looked over to Vogt, he had dropped his case, left foot twitching, eye's glazed and slobbering.  Yelled "HEY" loud enough for the kid at the gate to faintly hear it over the electric motors blowing air through the heaters and up though the drying bin exactly over their head.  Threw the rest of her water at him, he twitched, "then I tried slapping, shaking,pinching and pulling on his arm, and he wouldn't come to.  During all this the corn had run out, that kid clanked the gate shut and was waiting for me to pull out; when I didn't - he started ah walking up to the window.  Here's this guy, this company man, dying in the passenger seat - I could not remain calm - and guess I triggered that encrypted emergency alert, and from what you guys have told me, it must've triggered over and over.  She peeped over the potted plant, Mrs. Starr was in the kitchen making her famous boiled chicken dinner, Mr. Starr was asleep in his chair, and door to the deck they were on was shut.      

E.M.I. Shielding Afterthoughts

       There were ten pits and number one was the dryer pit,  Jen thought they must of tested wet and would be docked: Lucky, it's coming in wet or their tester is off.  {Lucky}I'm []esting []in[].. we'r[] [][]n[] ha[]t[] di[]p[][][].  Lucky,you're dropping out I'm right by the dryer.  {L[][][][]} [][][].. and she broke off contact. The grain drier was a high voltage electric mess of heaters and very large motors, causing all kinds of interference.  A truck pulled out of the pit area and the rig beside her started off only to be beaten to the pit by very large rig.  " that guys not going to get a candy".   Vogt stammered out a "yes"? so unusual she took a hard look at him again, and he seem to almost be in that catatonic state,  flickering in and out of it.

   

Connection Lost

        Took a swig out of her water bottle, poured a tiny bit in the palm of her hand, then used the hand to flick it at him.  He inhaled deeply, his eye's opened more than seemed possible, and he whispered, "my M-corp connection seems to have been dropped".  She pursed her lips, squinted and briefly had a thought about the tragedy of game addiction, "you don't have make excuses, people are too hard on gamers, they need to give you're kind, a break, it's an addiction, a disease, maybe a chronic condition, I just hope you're in a recovery program".  Vogt seemed to try to speak but just let out air, she flung more water at him; he closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and forced out, "no connection" she turned the dash fan toward him, "sure like I told ya, the Tunnel Authority is down right iron fisted when the traffic snarls like this, it's got all the bandwidth tied up, emergency only.  Is it emergency?" in the mean time, the truck had started moving faster and before long they could see daylight at the end of the tunnel, the radio came back on, and control was given over fifty feet on the other side.  She glanced sideways, and Vogt seemed to be in the land of the living once again.