No Adults Allowed

Seven

Import optimisation
  Logging.config(security=default; module=core("op.parameters", "safeguards"); proposition.context("comparison", "placebo", "control group", "full spectrum analysis");
  Log:
    Clean Slate and Temple programs remain primary operations.
    Recognition that additional variables should be tested using isolated samples. These additional datasets will improve the success rate of further iterations of the main programs.
    Variables to consider:
      - Different biomes: effects of weather, landscape and scarcity on human behaviour
      - Confinement: explore the need for physical freedom, through a range of walled compounds of varying scales
      - Culling threshold adjustments: default figure of 6+ is still considered optimum. Allowing isolated populations to deviate will help to confirm this assessment
      - Demographic weighting: given inclination of human history towards discrimination, it is essential to experiment with different weightings of gender, ethnicity, skin colour, height, weight, intelligence, language etc.
      - Technology allowance: adjusting the availability of technology, from full pre-industrial to post-fossil, to identify impact of technology on human mind. Note: technology level must remain below that which would pose a threat to the system.
    // truncated
  Exit(optimisation)

*

The wolf led them through the ruined streets.

It was clear to Tilda that they had made a massive error journeying south, capped by the foolish climb over the wall. They were imprisoned, in a cage they voluntarily - more-or-less - entered. The city stank, was wet and acrid and filthy. Every surface reeked of old, dead things, covered either by a thin layer of seeping mould or a slick slime from the putrid, stale water. Nothing moved save for glimpses of lizards and rats. There were no fish: this was not the kind of water that could support life.

She had spent her year compounding disaster upon disaster. Each time she thought matters could get no worse, she found a way. Harry's death had been awful, but at least he'd never had to see a place like this. He'd always seen the world as an adventure waiting to happen, as a series of wonders to be discovered. That it was filled instead with horrors would have destroyed him. Better he knew nothing of it. She longed for him to live, to be a father, but such thoughts became absurd when she looked around at the devastation. Perhaps the city had been grand, once, but those days were long past. Perhaps Cragside would go the same way eventually, ground down to ruins, with nobody remaining to tell its stories. Was it a repeating cycle, over and over?

The wolf joined the long list of inexplicable things they'd encountered on their travels. Flick insisted that it was not a real animal and was, in fact, some kind of facsimile; an artificial construct. Not that the girl could explain what she meant by that. Eva tried her best, but ever her fancy words fell short. Consensus was that it was a machine of sorts, though none of them could understand who could have built such a beast.

Eva continued to pull out the map and examine it every few minutes, seeming to think that they were on the right track, though it was the wolf that enabled them to make progress. What had once been streets were strewn with unstable rubble and deceptively deep pools of oily liquid, making any kind of movement hazardous and unpredictable. That didn't seem to bother the wolf, which scampered comfortably along as if it could detect the safe path. Perhaps it could. They followed in its footsteps and made good progress. The wolf, for its part, seemed to mostly ignore them, other than to wait for them to catch up.

It was strange: Eva she'd always found irritating, probably because she always seemed to be so in control and on top of things. Rufus she'd always thought to be a daydreaming idiot. Ramin she'd never really known; his aloofness appealed, but otherwise he had always been a big question mark. Erik was Erik, which meant slightly cute and very irritating. Robin was the sad sidekick, always hanging around Harry like a weak shadow. Flick was simply the weirdo in the trees. Yet here she was, trudging through what might as well have been the end of the world with them. She hadn't enjoyed the journey, and matters were worse now. They were probably all going to starve here, or drown, or be crushed by a falling building, or pick up some horrible disease. But being with them was soothing. She didn't like to admit it ever to herself, but perhaps she was starting to like them.

*

People were annoying. That had been Flick's long-held assertion, which had been proved right over and over again. Not that she wanted to think bad things about him, now that he was dead, but Harry had been annoying. Deeply annoying, disrupting her peaceful forest with his boyish antics. She'd left the village when she was young because she'd come to the realisation that she preferred her own company to that of others. She could rely on herself, understood what she needed, and quickly built a mastery of her surroundings. Others only interfered and spoilt that simplicity. They wanted things from her, or demanded conversation, or wanted her to do her part. All she'd wanted was to be alone, and to live, and to feel the wind in her hair and the dirt in her nails.

Except for Eva. She'd always liked Eva. She'd been different from the beginning, from Flick's earliest memories. Precise, unfussy, analytical. Thoughtful without meandering. Inquisitive without being intrusive.

They moved into an area where the buildings were smaller. Still massive by Cragside standards, of course, but not as towering as the ones they'd already passed. These were perhaps six or seven floors tall, rather than containing several hundred. Flick wondered whether they should leave the uneven road and explore the inside of the structures, in search of supplies. They were still dangerously low on just about everything after the previous night's encounter. Most of the others hadn't fully grasped that fact, other than Eva. She would surely have calculated it already, but Rufus was too busy gawping at their surroundings, Ramin was lost in his own world of deep thoughts and Tilda seemed to always be generally brainless. Erik...well, Flick could never tell what Erik was thinking.

As for the wolf, it seemed to be assisting them, which in itself was worrying. Since discovering the disintegrating thrush in her hideout back at Cragside she had spotted several other false animals, all constructed from the same granular material, as if a collection of coloured sand had got together and decided to pretend to be alive. She could only assume that the creatures had always been there, watching from afar, keeping an eye on them all. Why they'd become discoverable she didn't know; perhaps they had wanted to be found? The wolf's presence seemed to suggest such a thing. Eva seemed to agree with her assessment that they were machines of a sort, though neither of them could really articulate what that meant, or how such a sophisticated design could exist. The previous creatures she'd found had already been dead, or inert, so the wolf was something new.

There was a cry followed by the sound of falling rubble. Flick turned to see Ramin slipping down a mound of broken masonry, having strayed from the path indicated by the wolf. He stumbled and landed heavily on the hard, cracked ground, his ankle collapsing beneath his weight with an audible snap.

Eva rushed over to him and tended to him, while Rufus and Tilda stood around uselessly. Erik crouched next to Eva. Flick stayed at the front, the wolf to one side, waiting patiently, and her companions on the other. Something else caught her eye: a movement from within one of the buildings lining the street.

Another movement, from another damaged window.

Then another: figures began to emerge, slinking from the doorways and climbing through window frames. They were mostly tall, some wielding makeshift weapons, which they seemed to be pointing towards the wolf.

Flick didn't need to behind her to know that they were being surrounded on all sides. The people were thin, dirty-looking, with ragged clothes. Eva and the others stood near Ramin, who still lay incapacitated on the ground.

One of the figures stepped forwards, holding a staff of some kind, a pointed slice of metal attached to it end with frayed rope. "Who are you?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the wolf. "Why are you following the dog?"

"Travellers," Flick said, before Eva could launch into her usual speech. "The creature is going the same way as us. We don't know where it came from." She frowned at the face of the other person, and couldn't resist asking. "What is that on your face?"

He looked confused and raised a hand to his cheek, as if expecting to wipe something away.

"No, on your chin," Flick said, pointing.

He squinted at her, then grinned. "This?" He tugged at it. "Why, this is a beard, young lady."

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