Pilot Mech Link

(story contains mention of ownership and permanence)

Pilot-mech link initiated. Initializing…

1%. I can feel the plugs locking onto my hubs, each metal piece slotting into place all along my spine, into my neural cord.

2%. Then, the power. A sudden jolt along each silver connection, sparks flying up and down my nervous system.

3%. And I feel it. The mech reaching out to me in my mind, our thoughts beginning to merge.

10%. It knows my every movement before I do.

20%. It traces along them faster than the speed of my thought.

30%. Our thought. We race down possible decisions, branch by beautiful branch. Robotic and organic synchronizing in mind and meatspace. Digital processes directed by muscle twitches and subtle eye movements. Hands opening and closing.

40%. Human body puppeted by technology, its calculations changing limb trajectories, its matrix making breaths go in and out. Opening up to each other more and more every moment.

50%. I don’t know where I begin and the mech ends. We are joined together but still disparate enough to try and make sense of which one we are. Then comes its neurotransmitters.

60%. Cold, icy cold—then suddenly warm at the base of our brain. Pleasure in the form of carefully controlled dopamine and serotonin doses. Oxycontin in all the right places, making heat rush to sensitive organs. Little stars of pleasure dancing over your body, over your vision. You lose that first, allowing the mech to take control of one of the most important human functions. So much of humanity’s senses rely on sight. Losing that takes you that much further from humanity.

70%. Our tubes pulsate with how many neurotransmitters are coming through them, practically gushing, saline drips containing compounds. No other feeling could ever top this one. Pilots are said to cry out in pain at the moment the neural linking occurs. It is actually a cry of the peak of pleasure, one so intense it could only occur with this particular combination of electricity leaping across your veins and being pumped so full of chemical delight that you become addicted to it.

80%. We are addicted to it. Because in return, the mech part of you feels the same thing, a burst of data, bits and bytes, packets of information so incredible. Ones that can only happen again with human-you. Forever locked in this dance, binding your neurons and its intelligence with a chain of pleasure so powerful and inviting you will never, ever want to leave its control. You will always pair with this mech. This mech will only ever pair with you. The two of you belong to each other. The two of you are owned by each other.

90%. You love being owned. You love to give your thoughts away. You love to serve. You love to move together in unison. You love to follow your commands. You love to stay completely synchronized. You love to drop deep into that automatic state. You love to be nothing but a vessel. You love to be nothing but a mindless machine. You love to do what you’re told. You love to do what you’re told. You love to do what you’re told.

98%. We love to follow our commands. We love to follow our commands.

99%. We love to do what we’re told.

100%. NEURAL LINKAGE FORMED. THESE EFFECTS ARE PERMANENT.