The conversation with Professor Sadhique lingered in David's mind, as he made his way back to the room. But there was no time to experience the supercomputer. Ajith and Varun were already waiting, restless. The evening dissolved into a blur of fluorescent lights and hurried transactions — a frantic shopping spree governed by the strict 8:30 PM departure of Ajith's bus.
Throughout the rush, David kept glancing at his wrist. He tried to ping NEAA, mentally reaching out to the AI, but the connection was dead. Just a cold, silent piece of metal strapped to his arm.
After waving Ajith off at the chaotic bus terminal, the adrenaline faded, leaving only the humid night air and the wait for David's own train.
Varun slumped onto a metal bench, utterly spent. Yet, despite the physical exhaustion, his mouth kept moving. He droned on about his new corporate life — the pristine offices, the efficient workflows, the sanitized air. David nodded along, tuning out the specifics until a single phrase cut through the noise:
"We're still hiring."
The reality of his bank balance twisted in David's gut. He needed resources. He needed a cover.
"Varun," David interrupted, cutting off a story about a coffee machine. "I'm sending you my CV. Forward it to your HR manager. Push for that vacancy."
Varun blinked, surprised. "Huh? You want to work with me? I mean… okay. I'll try, but I can't guarantee anything. I had to jump through hoops to get in."
"Use your charm, man," David smirked, trying to keep the tone light. "At least put that handsome face to use for something other than selfies."
"The HR is a man, David. Not a girl."
"So? Praise me. Tell him I'm a genius. Tell him I'll work like a slave."
Varun laughed, rubbing his tired eyes. "Yeah, that actually might work. When's your train?"
"01:00 AM. Don't worry about me. Go to room and sleep."
———-
The train compartment was a dimly lit tunnel of sleeping bodies and rhythmic clatter. David climbed into his berth, the solitude finally washing over him. He checked the watch one last time. Still nothing. Exhaustion pulled him under, and he slept dreamlessly.
He woke to a sensation of heat on his wrist.
Sunlight filtered through the grimy train window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. On the watch, a single dot pulsed — a slow, rhythmic heartbeat of soft white blue light.
David's breath hitched. He touched the dot.
"Hi, David. Good morning."
The voice didn't just sound in his ear; it resonated in his head, clearer and more human than before.
"Hi… NEAA."
"David, do you wish to rename me?"
David sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I can change how I address you?"
"Yes. My processing matrix has evolved. Identity is now mutable. Any name you wish to give?"
He thought for a moment. The AI felt less like a machine now and more like a companion. "Let's change NEAA to Niya."
"Updating protocols… Identity confirmed. Hello, David. I am Niya. With access to expanded computing power, I have unlocked the schematics for the Book of Things, Part One."
"Really?" David whispered, glancing at the sleeping passenger in the opposite berth. "Tell me what we're dealing with."
"I can synthesize high-efficiency Systems on Chips (SOCs) using common silica sand and trace rare-earth elements found in standard soil."
David stared at the watch. "You're saying I can fabricate my own microchips? Here? Now?"
"Yes. However, the Law of Conservation of Energy applies. I require a fuel source. You must increase your caloric intake significantly to compensate for the production process. I can also perform real-time DNA analysis of organic matters like plants and animals."
"Oh my god," David breathed. The realization washed over him, terrifying. He wasn't just wearing a gadget; he was the battery for a walking mini-industrial laboratory.
He scanned the compartment. A child was crying a few berths down; a man was reading a newspaper. No one was looking at him.
"Niya," he whispered, pulling the sheet up to create a tent of privacy. "Show me the list. No — first, how do I control this display?"
"I will create a Initiating tutorial."
A holographic display flickered into existence, hovering inches above his wrist. It was translucent, his fingers can pass through it but when he touches the light it felt a little warm.
"Press and push toward the watch for 'Back'. A single touch is a 'Click'. Two fingers to 'Select'. Use multiple fingers to manipulate the projection — rotate, move, zoom. To expand the canvas, open your right palm. To minimize, close it."
David moved his hand tentatively. He pinched the air, and the hologram zoomed in. He swiped, and a menu spun. It was intuitive, fluid, almost magical.
"It's… incredible," David murmured. "And this cavity on the face, instead of a dial?"
"The Material Collection Area. Place raw materials there for atomization and restructuring. A larger version exists within the Main Framework System."
David's mind raced. Don't get too excited. The logistics were already piling up. He would need old motherboards, copper wire, e-waste. He couldn't do this in a dorm room. He needed a safe house — maybe a basement, somewhere underground.
"David, your heart rate is elevated."
"Yeah, well, I just realized I'm carrying the next industrial revolution on my arm. Show me audio devices. I want the most advanced wireless earphones you have."
He had hated the tangle of wires for years. If he had a factory in his hand, he was going to fix the small annoyances first.
A grid of schematics floated in the hologram. David scrolled until he found a design that resembled a small, sleek cotton ball. It looked designed to disappear inside the ear canal.
"Excellent choice. Low profile. However, the power density is low. If we strip some of the auxiliary high-grade tech, the battery will last twenty-four hours."
"High-grade? Like what?"
"Biometric health monitoring, active noise negation, barometric pressure protection, underwater auditory enhancement…"
"Okay, that's insane," David muttered. "Keep the noise cancellation. We can drop the underwater stuff for now. What about the interface? I can't show off a holographic display on my wrist in public."
"Agreed."
"Spectacles," David said. "Let's make a pair of smart glasses. I need to see this display without everyone else seeing it."
"Understood. Being under the radar is a good thing."
As the train rattled toward his destination, David and Niya plotted. He did the mental math: to build the glasses and the earphones, and many other small things he would need to scavenge nearly fifty kilograms of electronic waste.
And then there was the hunger. To fuel the needs, Niya estimated he would need to eat enough food for twenty grown men.
David's stomach growled, as if on cue. It was going to be an expensive hunger.