Archive for the Sci-Fi Category

Abstraction Protocol

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi, The Permanent Mind on September 7, 2012 by GuNNhead

Walled in. I knew this was a possibility, but never gave into the lackluster dismal option of it. Not that I hadn’t prepared, but, never expected a negative turn of events. I had it all worked out. I don’t care. Not for this situation, no, not at all. A trap, set up before I could have even thought, towards the endgame of an eponymous victory. Blocked in, and set to sit, now. It’s all a matter of memory and futurethought, now. Calm, and collected.

In restoring hundred year old digital technology, we’ve developed a special nano-liqiud bath, so that the pixelation is not visible to the decoder rendering that data. It was quite simple, really. We’ve recently heard word of an original file, but have not heard contact with the sender in over a week.

I do understand that something is lost with restoration, an inner vibration of seeing it how it was originally seen to the primitives. This is a type of thought. The original is preserved, though once you view it, you may find that the cleansed to a visual purity version is superior, and the original is best left to a museum. This is not the case this retellings, derivatives, they are withing their own subfiles, available with free access of perusal of the original. Wherever the source of inquisition.

It was funny, somehow, that the only way to reach people who wanted to know of you, was to to reach them through things they did not want. Only then, would they realize. Brainpatterns through the oraganic strands were so inferior.

It was when my logic and reason were in their final death throes towards insanity that I finally began to appreciate the people in my life.
To look for some sort of truthful happiness, that was the original insanity on my part, at war with biology. Fighting against the illogical enjoyment of human interaction, those who will inherently betray anyone given half a chance. Enjoy these animals on their own terms. Became too preoccupied in my own dealings to realize that they were part of my life, as opposed to violently rejecting them.
I had to give up, to give in, and simply let my body to what it wanted to. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Either way, this consciousness will shatter upon death, and return to the cosmos as the earth crumbles and the sun explodes.
Live like an animal, in their presence, suppress my overarching intelligence and superiority over them. Bide my time, take shelter in this new-found insanity.
No, they’d never know that my laughs or smiles were the signs of a mind finally beyond the cusp. I was gone. I was gone.
The datafiles made a terrifying map of consistence, life and unlife. We were still alive. Even digitally, there is no difference, one can see the strands of the universe within the brain, and even within the digital brain do they pattern themselves once more in every aspect. Now it is faster, and more resilient, with all the hope and aspirations of the past, the future has arisen from dystopia.

End By End III

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi, The Permanent Mind on September 5, 2012 by GuNNhead

“What do you think he meant, Elz?”
“I know exactly what he meant, and after this score, we’ll be having a chat with him.”
“Ugh, he’s so boring and technical, I can’t stand his mumbojumbo.”
“This isn’t the time for games, it’s time for The Games.”
“Lag off, I fragging got it. I’m better at these than any-”
“GAME ON!”

Bullets begin firing with full realism of physics. Just like the real thing, but better, less at risk. Unless that was your setting. Few have chosen the ultimate rounds, for that deletes your entire profile if one loses. In true rounds, with respawn and bench, one has never won multiple full matches in succession. There were too many people, the playing fields were level. It would be hard to blame some for experiencing the power over bots almost programmed to lose, with their AI’s intentional inferiority to the human brainwave. Killer-bot tournaments were always the best to watch. Only on special occasions though, so that The Permanent Mind could flex his digitized hands, lording his power over us as a benevolent god of cyberworld. An endgamer with no more masters, though he maintains corporate sponsorship from whence he came. The developer, long dead.

In a final hail of gunfire and explosions “THE ONSLAUGHT IS OVER.”
“We did it! we won!”
“Yes, I knew this strategy would work, man, we are fast!” The UEC is deposited into their private accounts.
“We should go now, this is a huge haul. I feel so silly now for being worried.”
“Worried? What abo- hold on, I got a pm”
“WINNER. You have been entered in a special bonus round.”
“Sweet, a bonus round.”
“Don’t bother with it, we have to go.”
“It’s a timed request, it won’t take long, I’ll meet you la-” he dematerializes, transferred to the bonus round.

In the Outerworld, both users never became logged on, the paradisio drive saw to that.
“Why do you think it didn’t work, Elz?”
“I’m not convinced it didn’t, I just need to figure out how to get our rigs up and running again.”
“What do you think went wrong?”
“The paradisio drive, it takes up a lot of power, probably blew out a couple of things.”
“Hey, I never asked you, why do you work out so much here?”
“Helps me think, plus, this is a good spot, it’s my room.”
“You know what I mean.”
“So that I can trust what I feel when I am me in the web, know that it’s not some weird fake cyber feeling. I like to experience the ultimate me all the time.”
“But we’re all gonna be digitized anyhow, body’s gonna crap out or something the way this world’s a wasteland. I feel more free in there.”
“I can be in my own mind when I just exercise, none of that bombardment of intertainment, just me, focused.”
“Intense, I just listen to music.”
“You always listen to music.”
“Yeah, but especially when uploaded.” They share a smile.
“But this is just for me. I still think the boundaries should be preserved.” A stunned silence, then, a sort of agreement. “There’s hope for this place, but it’s found in the cyberworld. We just need UEC funds.”

When One Can Afford Interludes

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi on July 13, 2012 by GuNNhead

Subtitle: A Story by Your Author

It all started at a time I don’t remember, and a place I don’t recall. So, one may ask of me, what it is. This is a story of aliens. No, not aliens. Something beyond. Beyond ourselves and also beyond aliens, and also beyond imagination! Also I recall the place.

We found ourselves in as poorly a written story as ever– you guessed it: 200 feet deep in Grenektian mud…

Due to bad intel, things had gone all wrong. I was standing beside a lead scientist, who was contacting his Manager.
“The President of Space has been captured by these ‘worms’. Had no clue they were even here, we have some smaller, similar specimens, but these are made up of something entirely different. They don’t show up on any scans, and certainly didn’t show up on the planet-scan. My Manager, please advise, this is only a research thtation– station. Sorry, I bit my tongue earlier in the attack.”
“Manager here. How many of the President’s armed forces remain?”
“Three, but they’re leaving to go rescue him. They want some of our security forces, and any scientists that think they can help, to go with them.”
“Then go with them. I will make sure their backup arrives swiftly.”

We were fast on the trail of these freaky-deaky clear-purple, kinda millipede-worms. About thirty feet long each. While the President of Space was giving his speech, four of them came up, surrounding the crowd. Someone somehow hurt one of them, but they killed about eight of us, capturing eleven, including the President.

We followed in two small HXNRovers, down the holes these creatures left. The groups traversed these intricate tunnels directly into a large expanse. There were thousands of these translucent things, all over the walls, and just piles of them, squirming all over the ground. As soon as we saw the President of Space and fellow captives strapped to the back of a few of them with a thick mucus membrane, the security forces opened fire, including myself. The beasts were largely unaffected by our pulse ammo, but it did draw their attention, and they began to focus an attacking front towards us.

That’s when I saw it, though. We all did. We saw it, the Gravity Surge. We’d only read articles on it on the Network. The entire chamber felt heavier. It started by taking out the ones near us by hand, tearing them apart. I still don’t understand how he could do what our weapons could not. It, or he, then began using some form of energy blasts, and in a flash, everything was dead.

On the surface, I was able to muster a question ‘Why? Why did you save us?’ When he responded, it was singularly the most preternatural voice I’d ever heard. Haunting, digital, and ominous.

“My power, this act means nothing… I did what was asked of. The universe holds only indifference towards life and death. My drive towards death can adapt to direction.” He then jumped into the sky, and never returned. We all felt a great weight lift off of our shoulders once he was gone, and breathed a sigh of relief.

By and By II

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi, The Permanent Mind on September 16, 2011 by GuNNhead

We appear inside the inner world. Installed in the innerworld, not just a temp install for games, but a reality within, a duplicate of the highest order. The companymen did a fine job. Though, I can remember… the pain of being installed. I never thought that anything could hurt that much, even when the nanites set into my body. I wonder how it is, or even if it still is, my body.

“This feels weird.”
“That’s because it doesn’t feel at all. Receptors here, it’s contact based, and we now have digital souls.”
“Can we still contact each other?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to think.”
“Really? I feel a fair amount of clarity buffering.”
“It’s probably because my brain became restructured; it should clear up soon, once the organic/nanite matrix can be rerouted. Tell me if my personality shifts, though…”
“It shouldn’t?”
“Right, now let’s get going.”

I had no trouble dealing with what had been done, for it was all another way to go about it. This, this is the ultimate way to go about it. The entire cybernexus was a permanent infrastructure. It was everywhere, in us, outside of us, inside of itself. To become separately installed… that’s something special. It was the nexus, started out like one giant online portal to play other videogames. It always felt so real, all of them did, but it was still just a game, log in, log off. But with datamapping of the brain, it became a dream to be able to create a duplicate, within the nexus itself.

No gimmicks, guaranteed low rates, fast tracking, instant datapak delivery.

“Wow, now that’s called cash support, and we’re in it!”
“I still think it’s kinda dangerous.”
“Look, we’re talking monthly promotions, here.”
“Yeah, but to claim a bonus for a signdown?”
“Don’t think about it, don’t worry about it, we can provide the best selection towards the end result, we are part of this as users. It’s hard to be beaten.”
“True, but what if we get caught?”
“I don’t even see that as a potentiality. Besides, even if it did happen, the worst thing that can happen is deletion, and not only is that impossible, but we’re backups in here, our real selves still live, and can be reinstalled. The companymen guaranteed that.”

The companymen appeared, logged in, uninstalled. Still way too risky to test on all agents, and rogue agents like these especially wouldn’t risk installing an alternate conciousness on the servers.

Turns out the illegal nanites allowed my body to survive the procedure; my friend, Chaice, was not so lucky. It’s still difficult for my adapting brain to process facial expressions or emotions. I wonder how my outerworld self is taking this. I think for sure I would be feeling sorrow for the loss. I think I am. My friend, however, is completely unfazed. Says he’s better off, free from bondage, a weight off his shoulders. The idea may have infected his brain, I fear.

Cosmic Rejoinder: The Disturbance at Loameria Prime

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Sci-Fi on July 8, 2011 by GuNNhead

When Ggi’lg”rdtg’d in all its arrogance is finally destroyed and done away with, only then do I know that it is time for death. The essence is dark enough now and I see it more clear than ever, the situation having escalated to the point where my power can no longer be denied by my lack of desire to use it for something so inane as altering the cosmos to my own vision, while simultaneously disturbing cosmic gods existing upon other planes and appearing within the nightmares of mere mortals. My drive towards death has yet again been activated. But not simply something as mundane as listless murder, as after all, there is no joy in bathing in blood unless I choose for there to be. I am the maker of my own destiny, and today right now in this moment, I am empty with threats of violence, hollowed by these interdimensional gods believing themselves better than I, believing they wield any sort of power over me, believing they can simply judge and sentence me to their whims. The thought of their hubris pushes me beyond emotions, freezing them dead in me. Beneath my helmet, I can physically feel their death, a cold ablution across my brain.

Yon-sogorath does not appear again. I believe my sentence has been carried out to its fullest possibility, with none remaining to survive this request for retribution against my cosmic slights, there is nothing left to for the arbiter to arbitrate. Or I believe that it now feels the fear that I once was able to feel. But then, its voice permeates the outerdimension in which I am trapped.

You are done with, for now. Freeing the domains of the affronted from their occupants must be attended to. Return to your trite infinite anomaly, no longer are there those who care for what it once was.

Eventually, its prattling ends and the portal necessary to take me back to my home, Loameria, opens. I pass into it and begin to feel the grasp of real space closing in around me. Such a place of cold darkness and solitude can feel like solace, a living, breathing thing closing around me, holding me in its embrace, reluctant to let go to enact the violence of entropy upon the celestial and natural world.

A fleshy portal slices through reality, and a mucus-coated figure exudes from the prolapse…

As I fall back to the planet, I notice strange lights ebbing and flowing in the sky above the place where the portal sits, and over the horizon, I see clouds, dark like they are heavy with rain, gathering as though they have minds of their own, before the sky seems to clear, growing brighter than bright has any right to be, and at the same time, my body feels as though it is weakening. I eventually collide with the rich, friable soil, and slowly feel as though I am becoming one with the ground, like I could just sink into it and be forgotten there underneath the terra firma. My vision grows dim, as my head is perpetually upturned toward the sky, and though I do not fully understand what is happening, I am not afraid or worried or concerned, I do not feel much of anything, simply eyes fixed on the sky, dying eyes as my sights grow dark, and I allow whatever is dragging me down to simply do so, losing any semblance of consciousness underneath Loameria’s skies.