The Master Program Ch. 07

His mouse hovered over the commit button but he faltered. He looked at this woman; she hadn't done anything to him. He had lost but Rosanne Mackenzie was no more culpable than his own mother had been. He shut the lid of this Macbook and put it on the floor so that he could kick it across the room. It slid under the wardrobe where he stored all the slutty post-transformation clothes, which gave him some satisfaction as he couldn't see it anymore. He lay down and slowly drifted off; the realisation that he had been completely snookered had completely exhausted him.

It was a few hours later, he had woken up and decided that he two options; he could just accept the next six months or he could transform Nicole Lowe into someone else and use another woman to fill the role of his mother. Nicole had also arisen and texted him asking where he had gone and if he wanted to have some lunch. He thought he could use the time with his mother to decide what to do but either way, the choices weren't great. He was waiting in a coffee shop; he hadn't really wanted to do this in his flat, especially since Sophie had Remi round and Alice had three guys with her. She arrived wearing the same coat she had on yesterday; this worried him when she came across to his table and started to take it off. Luckily, she had borrowed some clothes from Sophie; she was wearing a light pink cardigan and a tight denim skirt. She had a lot of skin on show and the top was reasonably sheer and looked like it could burst open but he had expected this, and turned down his aversion to incest before he arrived. It was only enough to feel less uncomfortable around her not enough that he might act on his feelings. He also noticed a few of the couples around the café had started to flirt with each other more and one had even started to kiss; this was no doubt the effect of her ability to arouse others around her; he could still feel this effect but it was extremely dulled.

"Hey Sweetie, I really enjoyed last night but... I hope you don't feel like it was a bad idea."

Stephen didn't really know what to say. He didn't know what the next step was. All he could say was, "No no, I love you, Mum."

To her, this was just her being her. Just having fun. She smiled and leant in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek, "How about I get us some lunch?"

He watched her go to the counter, all the single men obviously ogling her and all the taken men doing so more discretely. This would not have happened if she was his real mum but then... he noticed her empty all her change onto her left hand and then count out the change with her right; this was something she did all the time, something so Nicole Lowe that he couldn't deny this woman wasn't her.

"They're bringing it soon, I was going to get you a ham and mozzarella melt but then I saw a chilli beef baked potato. Is that ok?" asked Nicole. It was, in fact, exactly what he'd have ordered and this woman, his mother, knew that. He didn't know how he could make this woman not believe she was his mum. Ultimately, if she had the choice, he thought she'd always choose to be his mum, even if she had to be a whore at the same time. She'd stay a slut for now, but he had to find a way to return her to normal.

He said bye to his mum, allowing her to give him a kiss on the lips, then walked back to the Hadley Cache to collect his Macbook. He was about to leave when he had a thought. He opened the drawer where he had kept Parz's journal and opened to a random page. He had read the book completely now... but he had a thought... what if he was to find Parz. He had written the program, maybe he could find a way to access Nicole's original file. He started up the program and queried JR Parz.

"Did you mean John Randall Parson?"

"Depends, did he create you?"

"That information is unavailable."

"I'm looking for the writer of the Master Program."

"That information is unavailable."

"Why can't you find Parz?"

"It is possible that the name JR Parz is an alias and does not exist as useable identifier. It is also possible that this is a historic name. It is also possible that the subject referred to is dead."

He replied to the program, ignoring the possibility that Parz could be dead, "Can you search historic names?"

"Insufficient resources to query full historic database. Please use current identifier to see historic names for given subject."

"Well that doesn't help; I don't know the current name. How do you keep track of someone if they change their name?"

"Each subject is given a fixed unique identifier; the place of birth, as defined by a subject's centre of mass, to the nearest micrometre and the time of birth to the nearest microsecond. All local identifiers are attached to historic records, only the current identifier is attached to live database."

"So unless I know his name," Stephen paused to think about what he had tried to do earlier to Mike's mum, "he might not even be a he anymore. What do I know? OK, so he started his journal 35 years ago and he had to be at least 25 years old, though to be safe let's say 20. So he'd be... at least... 55 years old now. He used British English, so hopefully... he is still here. Could you query each person over 55 years of age, currently in the UK?"

"Query will take approximately 12 years."

"TWELVE YEARS? Can you locate other users? At least help me filter down the results."

"I can locate other users by pinging to check if modifications are possible. However, each ping much be done individually."

"How long would it take to ping everyone then query those that come up as users?"

"The search could take up to approximately one year."

The words 'one year' echoed in his ears until his phone interrupted him with a text from his mum.

'Hi Sweetie. was going to wait for you but mike txtd me. c u.'

He looked at the running query and saw '0 results found. Estimated time to completion 359 days, 4 hours, 33 minutes, 12 seconds.' With a heavy sigh, he shut the Macbook.