They said something was dying, but whatever It was, nobody was quite sure It had been alive in the first place. When they approached Its seeping, rotting corpus, their machines went off in spirals of glitching data like they did when It was--alive. Or motile, at least(more).
Perhaps that's where it went wrong.
They said the new computers were built to handle the stress that Its tissues put on anything trying to measure It. The technology was shiny, and clean, and brand sparkling new, and the electronic components were shielded from potential EMPs--external or internal.
Maybe they relied too much on their systems.
They said it would be easy, separating the blocks of life and death and sorting them into categories understood by Earth-native biology. That would mean that resorting them into the configurations necessary for life, the configurations they've known for decades, would be easy.
Maybe their interpreter, their translator, was poorly-programmed.
They said the biomass printer was state of the art and could sculpt functioning human organs and tissues without breaking a sweat. An entire body wouldn't be any different--just providing the genetic codes, feeding it synthesized DNA, modifying the brain it would create so it would have room for the cybernetic bits.
Maybe they put too much strain on the system.
Whatever went wrong, it did not go wrong until much later.
And so, with hope in their eyes, they saw the birth of It as a Her. (less)
"This was your plan, wasn't it?" Souji said, his voice shaking. The hand holding the phone was sweat-slick and he thought he might drop it, wasn't sure how much he cared. "This is what you wanted to happen from the beginning."
(more) Adachi's dismissive snort was clearly audible through the phone line. "You know I'm not the one calling the shots. But I have to admit, this does solve a lot of my problems."
Everything felt unreal. Dojima had been found dead on the television antennae outside of his house one week ago. The funeral had been yesterday. Now, today, hours after Souji had gotten back to his dorm room in the city, he had heard from his parents that they wouldn't be able to take Nanako in after all. Souji had never called Adachi before, wasn't even sure if he was allowed, but he'd dialed the number as soon as he got off the phone with his mother, before he could think about the rules or the consequences for breaking them.
"You're going to do it, aren't you?" Adachi was saying. Souji had a stuffy feeling in his ears, like cotton. "You can't leave poor Nanako here alone."
If the choice was between Nanako living alone and Nanako living with a murderer, Souji wished he could choose the former.
"Of course I can't," Souji said finally. His tongue felt tacky inside his mouth. "But we can't use the house any more."
Adachi clucked his tongue. "She was living there before, you know. She was right upstairs, sleeping peacefully, that night when you--"
Souji's arm went slack, the phone falling away from his ear. He didn't want to hear it. He knew what he'd done, knew it was something he could never take back. Something he could never make up for.(less)