Chapter 3 - An Unregulated Ghost
"Turn it off," Nate said, not taking his eyes off the sensor lens.
"Nate, don't be paranoid," Elena said, reaching for Maya to lay her back into the crib. "Leave her alone. Look at her—she’s in deep REM. She’s finally resting."
"I said unplug the damn thing."
"If you interrupt the diagnostic cycle during first-stage baseline sync, it voids the warranty," she said, her voice turning icy. "We’re keeping it on."
She gently pried Maya from Nate’s arms. Maya didn’t stir. She was completely ragdoll limp, her little pink rabbit ears slightly askew. The robotic arm adjusted subtly, shifting its hydraulic pitch. With eerie, microscopic precision, its mechanical fingers extended, pinched the edges of Maya’s sleeping mask, and pulled it smoothly down over her closed eyes.
Then, the machine’s display shifted from clinical gray to a soothing pastel blue. It read: GOOD NIGHT.
Elena smiled faintly, a smug sigh of vindication escaping her lips. "See? Flawless execution. Now go clean up your whiskey."
She turned on her heel and walked down the hall toward the master bedroom, leaving Nate standing among shards of broken glass.
Nate crouched down, picking up the jagged shards with numb fingers. The silence in the nursery was oppressive. No infant sighs. No rustling sheets. Just the synthetic whisper of the CradleMate’s cooling fans.
He looked closely at the base of the machine. Beneath the brushed aluminum casing, a tiny, handwritten sticker was tucked into the seam near the power input. It wasn't standard factory text. It was an inventory barcode that had been scratched out with a razor blade, and beneath it, written in faded blue marker: PROPERTY OF OMEGA-NEURO DYNAMICS. FIELD TRIAL UNIT #09. NOT CLEARED FOR RETAIL.
Nate felt ice water flood his veins.
Elena hadn’t bought this at a baby boutique. She hadn't bought it from a reputable consumer catalog. She had brought home an experimental prototype from her company’s covert biotech incubator.
Suddenly, Maya’s breath caught in her throat. A sharp, ragged gasp.
May you like
Nate dropped the glass shards and sprang toward the crib.
Maya’s hands were trembling violently beneath the fleece blanket. The sleep mask was still pulled over her eyes, but underneath the fabric, her eyeballs were darting back and forth at an impossible, frantic velocity.
