Someone's In My Head (WATTYS AWARD WINNER 2015)

Chapter Twenty-Six (Pt. 3)

Don't tell Layla I said this, but she's indeed one hell of a debater (or succubus, depending on how you see it), 'cause two minutes later, we were marching down the grey-walled corridor, on our way to activate the 'legendary' Oculus. I definitely gotta give it to her. Kudos to you, missy.

Oh, and don't ask me what the hell the Oculus is; I don't know. Nope. Not a clue.

At least not yet.

Five minutes into the walk, Royce stopped in front of, again, another SpongeBob (ditto) door. This one was slightly different, though. There was a huge circular lever in the middle, like the ones you see in bank vaults. The locking systems were totally state-of-the-art―not only that it was passcode-protected, it also required fingerprint- and voice-recognition, followed by a retinal scan. It was like taking all the security systems you see in movies and combining them together into this monstrously complex master lock.

As Royce performed the unlocking procedures, it made me wonder what the Oculus could possibly be. I mean, by Jove, this thing is protected with so many levels of security that even the Crown Jewels' pales in comparison.

Don't fret. I told myself. The answer will be revealed to you in just a second.

"Royce." Royce addressed the voice-recognition panel.

"Voice, confirmed." A female voice announced cheerily.

"You do realize how many levels of red tape I'm breaking by even letting you enter this room." Royce murmured, placing his thumb on the fingerprint-recognition sensor plate.

Layla was swift to counter. "If 'breaking red tapes' equals to 'saving civilian lives', I don't think the Director will have any problems with that."

"And Jarod," Royce was now sticking an eye into the retinal scan, so his voice sounded a little contorted. "I believe you understand that what you're about to witness next is highly-classified, and I hope it goes without saying that you're not to whisper a single word of this room―hell, not even this goddamned facility―to any living soul. Violate that, and you know what's in store for you. Are we clear on that?"

"Yeah, yeah, court-martial, incarceration, blah, blah, blah," I answered. But then, remembering something, I frowned. "Wait, or is it 'kill me quietly and make up a story for my untimely death'?"

Royce's reply was blunt. "Take your pick."

With a series of dull clangs, the bolts recognized all four of the security inputs and slid open. Immediately, a loud hiss followed, and the vault-like door slid open.

The room wasn't exactly ginormous for a vault. It was about the size of your regular master bedroom, minus the toilet. In the middle of the room, stood a platform of sorts. Wait, no, not a platform; it was a digital touchscreen panel, complemented with a large glass screen in front of it. You know, like the one S.H.I.E.L.D. uses.

This place was wicked.

"So, a supercomputer, huh," I commented, as blithely as possible.

That insulted Royce right away. "Not just any supercomputer. The Oculus is one of a kind―the very first supercomputer that's capable of simultaneous observation and cross-referencing of real-time images procured from any camera, anywhere around the globe."

I nearly choked on my own saliva. "No. Freaking. Way."

"Yes way." Layla gave me a sideways wink before stepping towards the Oculus. "No matter how incognito you are, this bastard can track your ass down in ten minutes―tops. All it needs is a face, a search radius, and a time frame."