Snippet #2650104

"You've got 24 hours. That was a failsafe I buried deep within the program written for them at Olympus. Chances are good it won't work a second time. The nanites have their own agenda, sub-routines I found hidden deep. I couldn't crack them. I have a limited skillset in that particular area, and it was some hardcore security."

Maxson walked further into the room, sitting on her bed and looking into her eyes. His stare was always so intense, so burning. It was almost like he couldn't shut it off, the aura he projected. It had been so deeply ingrained into him that it was a part of his very nature.

"My guess is that you are meant to be the first of many mindless, enslaved super drones. The nanites want you back at Olympus so that you can be captured, and the upload finalized. They brought you to me to kill two birds with one stone. Send us both back to Olympus, thinking we're there to achieve some kind of justice. To dish out recompense, only to betray us both. That's just my guess, anyway. I make damn good guesses for a living, however."

Maxson glanced around the room, smiling sadly before he looked back at her.

"I have two more codes I can use, that the nanites won't know about. One will deactivate them, and you, long enough for extraction. This was a failsafe the eggheads considered early on in the project, before they knew test subjects were expendable. The plan was to shut them down and remove them via surgical placement of a recall beacon. They swarm to it, attach like termites to a piece of wood, and they get pulled out all at once. I reinstated it secretly, because why the hell not?"

Maxson's sad smile turned to a frown before he continued.

"The third code is mine once more. Scorched Earth Protocol. Simply put, it will fry the nanites. With a 99.5% chance of killing you in the process. Odds don't get much better, huh? So I guess the question is where do you want to go from here, Cinnamon? Play the odds and walk knowingly into their trap?"