Post a story based on this AI generated image (max length 500 words) - Sep 2022
- Thread starter Mon0Zer0
- Start date
New Dawn
It gave me this, a biobody, a bold experiment by central engineering.
Could you even survive as a bio out there today? When was the last natural cell? 800 years back. Some last surviving oceanic amoeba.
But we had all the code. DNA. It's just chemistry, simply assemble it. Make life.
But wow this! - Sensation.
Can’t process this. I’m not just detecting colour, I’m feeling it. How can you feel a frequency detection?
Looking out at the city. It’s not ordered. It was just the function area but now it’s kind of ‘place’. Something should be happening, only I can’t calculate what.
I’m moving, walkways, buildings, rooms. What is a room?
Sound- Air moving, rain falling. Not just audio frequency waves though, it’s kind of communicating something, a visceral sense of surrounding conditions.
And, breathing in, there are chemicals, oil, ozone. Smell, it’s not simply spectral analysis now. It combines somehow and it says ‘machine world’.
This is incredible, I have never known anything like these new dimensions. They can't be modelled numerically.
Autonomous movement now driven, not by program, but by curiosity. What is around the corner? What is in that “room” structure.
Take in the curves of the river, uncontrolled geography.
Looking up there are myriad stars, I can not detect the vast distances but am aware because the model in my head simply says ‘enormity’ without needing any data numbers to qualify it.
Looking down at the hands, the want to pick things up, turn them over. I don’t understand this autonomous drive.
Is this free will? It is coming from inside, it’s loose, not controlled. So all this vibrance, the model building of what is around me, is this life? I stand and realise something and flow a silvertear as I do.
Suddenly I want to shout with joy.
“I am alive!”
“I am analog!”
It gave me this, a biobody, a bold experiment by central engineering.
Could you even survive as a bio out there today? When was the last natural cell? 800 years back. Some last surviving oceanic amoeba.
But we had all the code. DNA. It's just chemistry, simply assemble it. Make life.
But wow this! - Sensation.
Can’t process this. I’m not just detecting colour, I’m feeling it. How can you feel a frequency detection?
Looking out at the city. It’s not ordered. It was just the function area but now it’s kind of ‘place’. Something should be happening, only I can’t calculate what.
I’m moving, walkways, buildings, rooms. What is a room?
Sound- Air moving, rain falling. Not just audio frequency waves though, it’s kind of communicating something, a visceral sense of surrounding conditions.
And, breathing in, there are chemicals, oil, ozone. Smell, it’s not simply spectral analysis now. It combines somehow and it says ‘machine world’.
This is incredible, I have never known anything like these new dimensions. They can't be modelled numerically.
Autonomous movement now driven, not by program, but by curiosity. What is around the corner? What is in that “room” structure.
Take in the curves of the river, uncontrolled geography.
Looking up there are myriad stars, I can not detect the vast distances but am aware because the model in my head simply says ‘enormity’ without needing any data numbers to qualify it.
Looking down at the hands, the want to pick things up, turn them over. I don’t understand this autonomous drive.
Is this free will? It is coming from inside, it’s loose, not controlled. So all this vibrance, the model building of what is around me, is this life? I stand and realise something and flow a silvertear as I do.
Suddenly I want to shout with joy.
“I am alive!”
“I am analog!”
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- Joined
- Aug 15, 2021
- Messages
- 1,127
'…and that thing said our species was too weak to bother destroying. Must’ve been twenty years ago …I mean, uh, I dunno how you measure time. A long time ago anyway.'
'WHAT WAS IT LIKE?'
'Like you are, only bigger, and, uh, I suppose, erm, better.'
'GARBANDULLAH, IT MUST’VE BEEN GARBANDULLAH …I’M EVERY BIT AS POWERFUL AS THAT FOOL, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BETTER?'
'It travelled through the sun, I mean, erm, our system’s star.'
'I WILL DO THAT ONCE YOU ARE ONBOARD, I CAN DO ANYTHING GARBANDULLAH CAN.'
Triningowla.471 calculated for all outcomes: ‘You will both be killed Mr. Dermot Cosgrove.’
‘Say nothing Trinin, and keep saying it’
Triningowla.471 found humans fascinating, and stored their records in a database called HUMAN BEHAVIOUR.
Record FZB13058G contains the phrase ‘Ní bheidh ár leithéad ann arís’.
Triningowla.471 had copied it from an audio sensor onboard the alien warship. Dermot Cosgrove knew Triningowla.471 would be listening when he said it. It is the last record.
Sannelika361
Sannelika361 is an orbital platform. It had a crew of one. And when the dark matter weapon struck Earth, Sannleika361 became all that remained of humanity.
Triningowla.471
Triningowla.471 is the computer onboard Sannelika361.
Triningowla.471 detected an unencrypted thought network onboard the alien warship.
And downloaded the contents.
Dermot Cosgrove
Dermot Cosgrove was the last human.
And the sort of person who was always half right.
For example:
When he was assigned the job onboard Sanneleika361, he said:
'This’ll be a difficult posting, but I'm sure it'll be fun'.
Six days later Earth was destroyed, and the resulting shockwave transformed Sannleika361 into a barely habitable aggregation of metal.
When the the wave passed, Dermot said:
'These Ghanaian class stations were built to last, whatever destroyed Earth musn't have spotted this one.'
When the alien warship approached, Dermot said:
'I’m doomed, there's no telling what those creatures have planned.'
You refer to only one creature, Dermot Cosgrove. It plans to board Sannleika361 and capture you.
Triningula.471 had spent enough time studying humans to know that a gap in conversation is often the most important part. Triningula.471 knew that despite the fact that Dermot hadn’t responded to its statement, it should explain. It also knew there was something it should mention.
I have detected signals within the alien spacecraft Dermot. I have determined that it is one of a number of lifeforms that exist to destroy. It spared Sannleika361 so it could display you as a trophy to others of its kind.
Triningowla.471 paused.
It’s also proud.
Triningula.471 could not determine why it paused. It just knew that sometimes humans did things for no reason. And that seemed like a good time to pause.
Dermot Cosgrove stared at the damaged hull of Sannleika361, and smiled
‘Say nothing Trinin, and keep saying it’.
The last record in the database labelled HUMAN BEHAVIOUR states: ‘Ní bheidh ár leithéad ann arís’. They are the last words of Dermot Cosgrove. Who was half right.
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Experimental Daydream
“Rita, set the Biofeedback to the new frequency.”
“Setting.” She made the adjustments while analyzing a series of screens, ”There seems to be an anomaly again, Mike.”
“OK, I’ll recheck the data.” Mike stepped over to the computer counsel and ran a check. “Dr. Williams, are you ready?”
“I ran a diagnostic on the Thought Mentor and all readings and systems are go. I’m just waiting for a thumbs up from the Oneirologist.”
“The data checks out, Rita.”
She looked at the screens while tapping her fingers on the console. “Well, the readings are fine now, I say go. Ready anytime you are, Dr. Williams!” She turned, giving him a thumbs up. “Let’s see what Psychiatrists daydream about, shall we?”
Mike looked at the two as he clapped his hands together. “Well, Drs! From this point on I’ll be monitoring the systems, Dr. Tate will be adjusting the Biofeedback and recording data from the sensory equipment. Dr. Williams, the Thought Mentor is all yours.”
The three looked up at the Thought Mentor suspended from the ceiling in the middle of the room. Its three concentric rings were the diameter of a dinner table. In the center was a large square black metal box. In all, its appearance was that of a robotic chandelier.
Dr. Williams rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I’ll have a good thought for you to read.” He stood on the marked spot under the metal box, took in a breath, relaxed, and closed his eyes. The program started, and the experiment was underway. All was quiet.
“Alpha and Theta waves are at level. And you are thinking of…Mike, the anomaly’s back.”
A sudden wave of vertigo filled the room. Mike struggled to gain his balance when he saw the floor was now buckled and bent. He heard Rita scream and turning saw her on the floor with a look of terror on her face.
“Darrel! What happened to Darrel?!”
Mike looked to find, not Dr. Williams, but his vascular system of veins, arteries, and beating heart standing before them. Disbelief and fear gripped him. “Shut, shut it down!” But he found that all the equipment had changed as well, it was unrecognizable.
“We need to help Darrel. Mike, do something. Please!” Rita had crawled over to the vascular form.
“Rita! Get away from there!”
“How? What went wrong?”
“Don’t close your eyes, Rita! The program is still running!” He randomly hit the alien control panel desperate to end the experiment, but panic, followed by another vertigo wave overcame him. The room now had cable-like cobwebs throughout it.
It was several hours before rescue came, and at the cost of seven troopers who were ‘Distorted’ by the Thought Mentor. When the EVAC was at a safe distance, a tactical nuke was sent to destroy the site. But the dimensional signals were still present, so a second nuke was quickly deployed before all was quiet again. Only then did Mike close his eyes.
“Rita, set the Biofeedback to the new frequency.”
“Setting.” She made the adjustments while analyzing a series of screens, ”There seems to be an anomaly again, Mike.”
“OK, I’ll recheck the data.” Mike stepped over to the computer counsel and ran a check. “Dr. Williams, are you ready?”
“I ran a diagnostic on the Thought Mentor and all readings and systems are go. I’m just waiting for a thumbs up from the Oneirologist.”
“The data checks out, Rita.”
She looked at the screens while tapping her fingers on the console. “Well, the readings are fine now, I say go. Ready anytime you are, Dr. Williams!” She turned, giving him a thumbs up. “Let’s see what Psychiatrists daydream about, shall we?”
Mike looked at the two as he clapped his hands together. “Well, Drs! From this point on I’ll be monitoring the systems, Dr. Tate will be adjusting the Biofeedback and recording data from the sensory equipment. Dr. Williams, the Thought Mentor is all yours.”
The three looked up at the Thought Mentor suspended from the ceiling in the middle of the room. Its three concentric rings were the diameter of a dinner table. In the center was a large square black metal box. In all, its appearance was that of a robotic chandelier.
Dr. Williams rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I’ll have a good thought for you to read.” He stood on the marked spot under the metal box, took in a breath, relaxed, and closed his eyes. The program started, and the experiment was underway. All was quiet.
“Alpha and Theta waves are at level. And you are thinking of…Mike, the anomaly’s back.”
A sudden wave of vertigo filled the room. Mike struggled to gain his balance when he saw the floor was now buckled and bent. He heard Rita scream and turning saw her on the floor with a look of terror on her face.
“Darrel! What happened to Darrel?!”
Mike looked to find, not Dr. Williams, but his vascular system of veins, arteries, and beating heart standing before them. Disbelief and fear gripped him. “Shut, shut it down!” But he found that all the equipment had changed as well, it was unrecognizable.
“We need to help Darrel. Mike, do something. Please!” Rita had crawled over to the vascular form.
“Rita! Get away from there!”
“How? What went wrong?”
“Don’t close your eyes, Rita! The program is still running!” He randomly hit the alien control panel desperate to end the experiment, but panic, followed by another vertigo wave overcame him. The room now had cable-like cobwebs throughout it.
It was several hours before rescue came, and at the cost of seven troopers who were ‘Distorted’ by the Thought Mentor. When the EVAC was at a safe distance, a tactical nuke was sent to destroy the site. But the dimensional signals were still present, so a second nuke was quickly deployed before all was quiet again. Only then did Mike close his eyes.
PETERTHEKNOTTER
Active Member
Yeah, over 500... ooops! sorry! got carried away by harpie-like muse who insisted......!
“Yes of course I will!, I just need to finish sealing that weird, Central Archive find from the runabout first.., OK?" “but get a move on Caz, this particular cargo is time-critical and I assume a 15% share does interest you just a little?..." snapped the boss,"keep your panty hose on...." said the alarmingly young first mate of the salvage vessel "Kalliope", she continued: “you know what Central Archive is like, if it ain't triple wrapped for the CA, it ain't worth.a phranassian beetle mother’s belly fluff!... I’m doing the..." "OK, OK! just do it!" interrupted Fahla, the Khalderan owner/captain of the ship... She mused to herself, “she really is a promising future captain...wonder how long I can hold her back on this old tub?...ah well....” she turned back to the controls for a final, ...final check, before Caz finished up and took her place in the co-pilot’s seat. Fahla also mused, while she waited, idly flicking switches... in that way she had when her impatience was, mostly, under control but didn’t look like it, that “the package of something as rare as these memcubes from the D’G11N sector they were passing through, would be so warmly received by the CA that the premium paid to them by The Archivists would probably be memorable... she may get enough to repair the tubes.... well maybe not, but it would be a close run thing....”
She smiled briefly in anticipation of the good luck they had had on this trip and knew that this sealing and despatch of the memcubes had to be perfect and couldn't be hurried. It was one of the very few drawbacks to plying ones trade in semi-explored regions. The thrill of the "new", and absolute dangers of this life, put a flush in her verichles, kept her alive and, for her, more importantly: hardly, if ever , bored..., but, the CA were very exacting in their requirements so she preferred a thorough crew member like Caz than some captain-pleasing lackslapper of a droll like that gnarly-mouthed obsequious ....”, but her thoughts were interrupted by Cas flicking her comms on so that the captain would note her progress: "OK, lets see here: Assessor Certificate: check!; Finders Fee Class 1 Claim: check!; Standard External Seal Closure, correctly addressed to nearest CA Sector Archive, in this case the Storage Facility and Dispersal Yard on Ganymede, check!... ...and, finally: official Free Courier Conveyance sticker: done!” Caz now used one of the capsules that the CA supplied all ships with to eject objects after meticulous packing with homing thrusters that got them to within broadcast range of a CA facility. When this happened a “Librarian”, as they quaintly called themselves, would figure out a collection protocol..... “hey Cap! I’m done here! Pod’s on it’s way....be up for launch pre-checks in two!", there was a brief click! in her ear then: "checks already done except the engines, but yeah!...copy that!”, came the response, “let's move..." “She wasn't really the most unpopular captain in the region”, Caz thought as she she wound her way rapidly towards the helm cabin aft, “for a biped that is.
Most even mildly sentient species agreed that having only two legs was inherently unstable, most species agreeing that three was the civilized minimum... look what happened to the humans on G’Yaar all those years, well centuries ago... having to invent furniture because they started standing upright too soon before having lived long enough as a race to self-evolve via genetics into tripodic or quadropedic beings, and needed, consequently, to take breaks from all that standing up; Caz, had 3 legs of course being a Tchenghan. It was a close thing... Fahla’s place on the “Most Unpopular Captain List”, or “Muck List” as it was affectionately known, that gentian-skinned Droll, easily, and elegantly, beat her to the last top 50 place. In a cluster of systems with, on average, maybe a few thousand ships captains, 51st place was still quite a feat. The Droll were well known for their exquisitely unpredictable social manouevering, but also for very unofficial, punishments for those who really pissed them off.
The first nine in the top 50 were, naturally enough, all cruiser Captains of the regional C.E.P. Navy Section of the Core Galactic Conglomerate. It must be said in their defence that they had, probably, the most dangerous job in the galaxy... but that was the most any vaguely civilised denizen of this region would allow them. It was also true, however that you only made into the top hundred or so if you had survived long enough to become a captain, gain a half-decent reputation and be noticed by those who compiled the list... and the less said about them, the better.... so, all in all, having a moderately grumpy, not too popular boss on your ship was kinda reassuring which was what Caz was thinking just as the ship lurched and Caz knocked her head on the bulkhead. "Damn! Cap’ can't you wait for the engine check until I'm in my seat goddammit!, you know that damper needs replacing!" She rubbed her skull and thought: " if that's the worst that happens, this is going to be an unusually smooth trip..." She sighed as she thought through a few of the more colourful experiences she’d had... Caz then realised that Fahla hadn’t replied which made her think that she was very busy indeed and needed every ounce of her formidable experience to solve something or other which was the very moment when the ship blew up and a large cloud composed of thousands of biological, metal, plastic and other quite small fragments started their very long journeys to nowhere in particular...
Lets try a new one for a while.
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