Machine Man - Max Barry [48]
“Nothing. It’s just … nothing.”
“What?”
I put down the salt. “You locked the salt while performing an unrelated task.”
She blinked. “You mean drinking?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t wait five seconds for salt?”
“I can. But salt is a shared resource. If you’re going to lock it, you should use it as quickly as possible, then release it. You can’t leave it locked while accepting an interrupt.”
“I got thirsty.”
“Then first return the salt to general availability.”
“Just in case you happen to want salt in that five seconds?”
“Yes.”
She stared at me. “Really?”
“Otherwise you compromise the system.”
“What system?”
“The …” I waved my hands. “The system.”
“There isn’t any system.”
“Everything is a system. Look.” I leaned forward. “What if I had your water and I suddenly decided I wanted the salt? And instead of giving you back the water I just sat here waiting for you to release the salt, which you didn’t because you were waiting for the water? It’s a deadlock, that’s what. It’s catastrophic system failure. And you’re probably thinking, ‘Well, I could just ask Charlie to give me the water in exchange for the salt.’ But that requires you to understand my resource needs, and violate process encapsulation. It’s a swamp. I’m not saying it’s a big deal. I’m just pointing out that locking the salt like that is incredibly inefficient and systemically dangerous.”
Lola snickered. “You’re insane.”
“I’m not insane. It’s a fundamental principle. You’re insane.”
“Regular people don’t bring fundamental principles to the dinner table.”
“Well,” I said.
We ate. “Explain that again,” said Lola. “That stuff about locks.”
LOLA BECAME well enough to walk around. She held my arm and shuffled along corridors in her little cotton gown. We graduated from short strolls to circuits. The floor was almost empty but for plants in large gray pots. There was an area near the elevators where one wall was all glass and we gazed out across the Better Future lawn and watched the sun set. It occurred to me that I had never seen anyone visit. I asked if there was someone I should call. She rested her head against the side of my arm and said nothing for a while and then, “No.”
THE NIGHT pains worsened. I couldn’t shake them. I woke to blinding cramps in nonexistent feet, the sensation of my legs curling back on themselves. I was still treating it by strapping on my old-model legs but it was no longer enough. I began to attach them before going to sleep. It was awkward and uncomfortable but better than fumbling with straps in the dark while my amputated muscles screamed.
I decided to leave the Contours on for a night and see what happened. It was a good idea because I didn’t like taking them off anyway. It was like becoming a cripple again, every night. I wasn’t sure how I could lie down but I was forgetting that compared with them, my weight was practically zero. All I needed to do was hold on while they bent in two places and rotated the bucket seat. I couldn’t roll over. That was awkward. But discomfort was not pain so it was a big improvement. Pretty soon I couldn’t imagine ever taking off my legs again.
I ARRIVED in the labs one morning and there was a girl in a white coat with eyes as blue as a Bunsen burner flame. I didn’t put it together until I passed another girl with violet eyes and then a guy with emeralds. By the time I reached the Glass Room I was prepared. Sure enough, Jason’s eyes glowed mahogany. “You colored the Z-lenses.”
“It’s only cosmetic.” Jason wheeled his office chair closer. “But people like it. What do you think?”
“Does it interfere with function?”
He shook his head. “You just set the chip to filter a particular frequency.”
“That sounds like extra complexity. Another potential point of failure.”
“It’s working pretty well.”
“Never sacrifice function for appearance,” I said. “It’s poor engineering.” But they did look nice.
I SET Alpha to work on hormone regulation. Beta on sensory enhancement. Gamma on a bunch of things around arms. My ulterior motive was to deprive them of free time, to slow the progress