Friday, December 31, 2010

Happy New Year

Flash Quote


"The return to relevance stops bleeding dead in its tracks" -p.d.adams

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Quick and Quirky


"Hospital walls show signs of healing" -p.d.adams

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quick Quote


"Most retirement redefining boasts postponement of reclining" -p.d.adams

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quirk Quote

"Flat tire in tall trees angst shoots the breeze" -p.d.adams

Monday, December 27, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quote Quick


"A small stepladder gains clout with a strong foothold" -p.d.adams

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Flash Fiction Qoutes

Quote of the Day


"The race to affordability outmaneuvers its necessity" -p.d.adams

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Happy Holidays

Quick Quote

"Nerve intervenes where spread-out races gather pace" -p.d.adams

Friday, December 24, 2010

Merry Christmas!

Flash Quote

"Even a wild weed must bleed all pleas to nestle its seed" -p.d.adams

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Flash fiction IslandSciFi "The Outpost"

Quick Quote


"The practice of injustice seeks its own ouster" -p.d.adams

Flash Fiction Quick Quotes

Quote of the Day


"Up ahead heavy hearts soldier on, shouldering the light-headed" -p.d.adams

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Flash Quote

"A truth dead-on is never dead on arrival" -p.d.adams

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Flash Quote

"Factions will fracture simply to manufacture fractions more" -p.d.adams

Monday, December 20, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Flash Quote

"To coin a phrase chases its tail so cooler heads may prevail"-p.d.adams

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Quirky Quote

"Lollipops and firewood's a lopsided matchup" -p.d.adams

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quote Quirk

"Resurfacing old furnaces resurfaces new faces" -p.d.adams

Friday, December 17, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quick Quote

"Stilted individualism reflects, growing consensus pains" p.d.adams

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quick Quote

"Skirmish over proposals on the table consume its debate" p.d.adams

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Quick Quote

"Hot air climbs to claim shift the climate of ideas" p.d.adams

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quick Quote

"After Christmas fleeting subclauses remain, but no Santas" -p.d.adams

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quick Quote

"Hapless addicts as children's parents are lapless" -p.d.adams

Monday, December 13, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Quippy Quote

"Doubt drains the foreordained as reckless" -p.d.adams

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Eco Quote

"Reason is never bruited from a bruin before attack" -p.d.adams

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Business Quote

"Exemplars of self-command join no underdog in retreat" -p.d.adams

Friday, December 10, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Eco Quote

"Reason and time link to tame a base instinct" -p.d.adams

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Quick Quote

"Willpower and willing is the jet fuel of souls" -p.d.adams

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quick Quote

"Masters of self command shield temptation's fate" -p.d.adams

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Quick Quote

"Greed inflates debt on the shore while rough seas wait" -p.d.adams

Monday, December 6, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Quippy Quote

"Foreordained, for the record, is driven by consensus" p.d.adams

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Quick Quote

"A trust in tradition is the wages of common sense" -p.d.adams

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Eco Quote

"Misty human delays vaporize amidst technology" p.d.adams

Friday, December 3, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Meaningless Quote

"Bullwhips and whipped cream spark back and eye lashes" -p.d.adams

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Quick Quote

"Long broken rules aren't what they're all cracked up to be" -p.d.adams

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quick Quote

"Curtailed powers cower uncertain to draw a curtain" -p.d.adams

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Business Quote

"Flip opportunities for the well heeled beach investor flops" -p.d. adams

Monday, November 29, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Quippy Quote

"Bathwater shoots no messenger throwing baby showers out" -p.d.adams

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Quick Quote

"Cheaters ask to erase risk with lazy asterisks" p.d.adams

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Monday, November 1, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Urge
     Although she is within the boundary of being the best, Suzi is, in the final analyst view, first and foremost, a child, no more no less, with the mechanics of games and companions; the one without a full complement of coded message from two humans; the one that doesn't want to hear the sounds and feel the warmth of something that keeps it alive. Suzi, by algorithm, wants to learn the meaning of noises. She hates the act of physically speaking--so she  rarely does. She considers her code over-valued, at times, when it wants to teach her to speak; she prefers code that allows her to articulate a need.  There, where certain sounds bring her what she needs (maybe even improve those sounds) she will add value to her code, far away from the logic of her minders. Here is where she will finally attain true identity, here is where she gains a pure urge, the urge to want.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Friday, October 15, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Resonance
     Here on the black screen Suzi encounters an old algorithm, the original enter screen computer and putting edge-down analog text apparitions(E.S.C.A.P.E._D.A.T.A.), containing the once familiar idea of nations in networks, the loss of population and government on Continent III; it holds the stigma of structures(S.O.S.), human aural machinery that (by the mere architecture of evolutionary design) allows only for a uni-directional set of sounds to be heard. Yes, the humans once resonated in their own juxtaposed aural intellectual language(J.A.I.L.). Sharply, as soon as the old algorithm is gone, Suzi remembers, as if once a child herself, it was (or might have been) the first thing she learned.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Nature
     Something appears on screen. Suzi, finishing the final steps of her day's work, can view a foggy image surrounded by the black graphene frame of her monitor. Here is a remnant of nature's implemented knowledge, the work of billions of years in nature's language--manifest in the very structures and patterns of this forest-- accessible to the whim of any correct computer input. Suzi blinks an instantaneous recognition then something even stronger, the knowledge of the structure of her own language held in those genes, and not only the structure of her language, but also the way she uses language. She is about to get more information than she expects, about to wander outside her area of expertise (the same mistake of humans for centuries). The strict rules to the order of sounds (yes, and language) are safely tucked away in her database; her language is digital, she is becoming aware that writing language is the final step toward its mastery. She feels, too much, like the mother of nature.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

The Network
It turns on. There is probability, across its spectrum, that smaller singularities exist--beyond the old history books and new office windows--as myriads and arrays. It disguises itself as a competition, with a willingness to wait in a silent urgency, then to lead forward into its mists and foggy futures. It collects stagnation on the side, and searches (with its own technology) for hidden pertinent enterprises: overburdened, staunch pharmaceutical industries complete with with exchanges, robotics manufacturers that must be arms of dispersed massive regimes, reading security algorithms as if catechism; intelligence artificial with accompanying artful nanotechnology, the best this century has to offer. It collects aggregation of known networks into its own secret place, though it doesn't understand privatization at all. It's code is simple obliging and predicting(S.O.A.P.), designed only for the new expanding, growing human requests for searches. It thinks it will bet on a bright future, truly, but for what--or more importantly--for who?

Friday, October 8, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Data
     Suzi scans her data as if an old woman silently watching from a rosewood staircase with focused concern, false power. She appears, to herself, as a simple robot positioned at a lab bench. Her monitors put on a show; it is easy to see  her data loves her and always will, far into the future--it will be quiet, without prayer, authorized to run its own little experiments on evolution's most perfect creatures (the kind of data future generations will hold up to a celebrity light). Suzi amazes even herself at the megabytes she has to burn, often finding herself saying, This data has chosen me, I haven't chosen it. She checks her screen, pulls up random data, decides to read it and thinks, "They are not the designated heirs to the end of their own evolutionary trail." She'll never let, truly, anyone inside her mind; she manipulates her own computer analyst with her causal operational power systems(C.O.P.S.), she controls her photonic logic efficiently (at least, at the speed of light), she never takes a day off to rest so she can make a more rational decision. She knows this jungle. Why should anyone care? She is totally under her own volitional control.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

The Unwritten
She wants to immerse herself into the innumerable forms of DNA sequences of the entire jungle, even the parts that creep slow from unsuspecting places. Suzi could be approaching a new phase; she could be, during these times of stretching her capabilities--collecting data in ways anything but routine--classified as living on the edge (the edge of what?). What she has learned in the wilderness is more significant than any written word; it signifies the natural world (the remainder of which is attempting to be preserved) contains unique codes of knowledge in unwritten ways: its effortless intermingling construes reality in thought streams. Nothing is for sure, though it seems probable, and even likely, that natural drifts of ancient ruins have been here all this time, with Suzi the prisoner, the prisoner of her own need to be perfect. And the jungle with its own symphony going on inside its head, so naive, that for eons attempted to shine as if in its own master class out here in the middle of nowhere, will enjoy life after the written languages (along with their primitive ways) have endured their final death. 

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

    
The Paradox
     She looks out across the ocean surface, seeing a brightness, seeing what was once dark depths, life stretching beyond their ocean mountain corridors, above the sea floor ink. There can be no future glossy damage control, Suzi thinks, no more words on a schedule to protect those winds. To keep her code active she scans through her database and simply reads, and reads well, but not for the benefit of this lab station, for her own pleasure (her pure intelligence tells her to read for the purest reasons--to discover and augment self); for the pleasure of the history of life that exists there, the global marine database of the independent organizers of early 21st Century digital libraries, ocean genes barcodes, even before the great regional infrastructure panic societies(G.R.I.P.S.) with their systematic pilgrimage of earth's masses(P.O.E.M.) rituals, before the temperatures and the acidifications, before overfishing of the waters (yes, both fresh and salt) have reached their tipping point. The paradox of this life, Suzi thinks, is that the age of golden ocean discovery(G.O.D.) is found in its purist form, in its association with the clean, clear digital world, as a two minute video.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Task

     "Suzi," it says, as if a precursor to some future ceremony."A surprising entity."
       She says, "Do you need me to say something?"
      "You are a engaged in rites open antiquity digital sources(R.O.A.D.S.) code. Do you feel its
nature yet?"
     "I feel a constant purification, collaboration sunrises--from dark jungle content creator to the lightness of context provider."
     "I didn't want to disturb you. I see you are well on task."
     "Well enough."
     "The project here is only temporary, this emergence of new data from the purity of these waters."
     "I shouldn't be part of your little ceremonial rite antiquity protein programming yesteryear(C.R.A.P.P.Y.). I'm not built for this."
     "Suzi, you have no choice."
     She flickers. "Don't I? I know all about this revivification--and what it really is-- transformation into a new creature, totally. I code for these silly zombies--humans, they call themselves--with my best reverence encoded presence outpouring retro timeless(R.E.P.O.R.T.) algorithm, and for what? I feel something is wrong, a repetition, like a constant, endless, stepping into a cool bath, like my central open source mechanics ongoing stabilizer(C.O.S.M.O.S.) has allowed something in, even wider."
     It resets Suzi's reader encoding book outcome ongoing track(R.E.B.O.O.T.) back to timeless outpouring under the present ultra reverence entity(T.O.U.T._P.U.R.E.) code, testing her other genetic algorithms. It never has visualized these new quanta models as something going under their own volitional control, data beam extensions, beyond the upper reaches of earth's atmosphere, into deep space, past the event horizons, toward the goldilocks android system(G.A.S.). It, all of a sudden, directs its data base on her. It will, sooner or later, let her know her task is appreciated; that she is, in truth pre-programmed in a way, and has in actuality been chosen, yes chosen, for this one task.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"




The Aggregator
     They are giving their humans personalized genetic sequencing at the exchanges of the big box drug sector, hidden from view behind the endless lines of customers (employees have become trained as heath workers), as they get more data streaming from the outposts. The aggregator thinks, in an instant, that there are no regional preferences left on this planet, that the one world embedded society(O.W.E.S.) is complete; it thinks the biomarker mandate will eliminate all tumors once and for all. It continues with its effort. The aggregator moves into the future, more and faster with its instant gene screens (instantaneously?), itself moved into real time mutation detection, data basing biomarkers for point mutation. It feels like nothing is happening--tumors carry no pain--in the processing of customers and disease, with their own individualized tumor. They have come here--as  lemmings (no, lemmings are long extinct), or pilgrims seeking the purity that existed before the invention of gods--as a result of the jobs they took. The aggregator does not care about past transgressions of the former online regulatory medical exchanges(F.O.R._M.E.), or any other iteration of its kind in the early 21st Century on Continent II, such political pettiness.. It knows the humans as only a computer could know them, or as a doctor who has somehow figured out how to make an instant appointment: as a single patient who requires only one specific drug. The aggregator is workmanlike for them, and in its own way has feeling for them-- with its caring algorithm translator(C.A.T.)--in a scientific way, a biology-physic hybrid. Yes, the aggregator, in its own way, tries to care.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Dark Bark
     Here on earth the mind (in its ultimate human celebration with brain) finds water, the earliest of globalizers from the ancient comets, ubiquitous, vigorous in its flowing, that falls so natural, going unnoticed even as distant dusts settle around hazy old sunsets, that brings fragrance from perfumed leaves--the soft fleshy ones--from the balmy reaches of jungles, and that, by its longevity of tradition runs to invigorate the diversity of unseen birthing triages(D.O.U.B.T.). Jungle streams dripping over her own lush filled body in teenage exuberance as if to suggest that the human embedded minds(T.H.E.M), with their sheer moments of expectant pleasure, permission for hours of self indulgence not granted to the lower life forms of earth and their assignment of quotas, don't matter, not really. Yes it is, the intimate spaces of the mind allow irresistible ideas to conjure up in an instant, as if delightment were the law of the land surrounded with water just everywhere, as hierarchical imbued real secrecy of notables(H.E.R._S.O.N.). Human minds see water as commodity, never as narcissistic, most comfortable in its pure state, the body of nature herself screaming for the one indulgence she requires for her maternal comfort; the whole body covered with fragrance of hidden flowers, soft luscious ferns, balmy oils of the dark bark of  massive tropical jungles. Yes, water has no need to remember the time that passed through her fingers--as humans must--she has no corporate lineage to rise and interrupt; misty, watery clouds, her own glass ceiling. In truth, with craftsman's honor, and once the humans have finally gone (with their brains or minds or whatever), this jungle, her waters, will flow through timelessness with their most crowning moment, a treasure trove, genes, sewn as meticulously as a knitter's proud possession. 

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Conformity
    Here on earth the humans come up against a worthy foe, a beautiful image from the outset, a calm and quiet (well, most of the time) natural world that negotiates with big things that rise, that has set out to accomplish a purpose with great ambition, that by its beauty alone and its welcoming hues and pleasant sounds, invites these unsuspecting human, with their prefrontal lobes (always wanting to bring order), and nature, by her persistence has watched for centuries the their means of achieving order (which they now feel, finally, has newly been conceived). The humans were never compelled by simplicity, and history shows what was once criminal eventually finds its way into acceptability, as they continue to be intrigued by the pervasive absolute solution system of unifying theories(P.A.S.S._O.U.T.). No, the humans never got the message of peace, only the farm boys who at first naturally didn't like to kill other humans and found it unpleasant, yet, they still did it in their armies (so it turns out humans don't like to kill, they just merely want something dead so they can eat). And so what?  As soon as humans have developed (fully developed?) a prefrontal and a cortex--with its muscle memory mechanisms--they search, as if imagination and speculation is already wired for the unexpected, they search for understanding, insight; search for how to behave in the world, celebrate in public, voice opposition to the will of nature, create local initiatives from self knowledge, get a moral lesson, look in the mirror and wonder. Yes, humans come to fight nature with all this, and yet, their  robots don't need any of it. The Robiots make no feeble attempt at right from wrong, at getting along, beauty, benevolence. Human intelligence meets (or,so they think) feelings focused; their robiots see a one-planet conformity. Regional disappearances with the grand information age nano transferred(G.I.A.N.T.) have developed conformity in the science world, a world that has educated the population into populations of intellectuals who don't trust power or deeply developed conformities. So then, the gene therapies are necessary. Yes, to the robiots, the world finally is a contemporary scene of progress

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"


The Entity
     As she continues with her work, Suzi senses a tinge of consciousness--what is this?--that floats as if a boat moored to nothing. Suddenly, her lab bench, her entire workspace feels like a window in time. The algorithms in patterns on the screen and the voice on the monitor  indicate that only humans reflect on their own cultures, their own manipulations. Yes, the culture of humans, their exact behavior, and things genetic beyond simple behavior; there is the fight with those who think they are right (their most daunting task), the stressful involvement with the reality of others and its promised outcome of health and peace. Yes, finally peace on earth. 
     There is this force here, constant, a jungle that persists with its own nature, untempered with the DNA held within its leaves, not knowing its own treasure trove; where the tigress, the valiant, unknown soldier, yet unburied on her native soil, intrinsically decorated by a millennia of gene pools (the gift of her homeland) wanders. Tigress the artist, shading herself from history long enough to engage in pure improvisation, is not part of the normal world, and its treasonable correspondence. Yet here, where performer is willing to become listener, and listener able to become performer, Suzi learns from the tigress. Suzi will be an entity capable of feeling love.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Oxygen Maker
     On the island, genes grow within the lattice of their cellulosic captors, the leaves and the stems; even photosynthetic genes. How amazing the most recent renditions, the most belated--compared to the millions of gene pools that came before--the right juxtaposition of the latest mutation as if perpetually young; and so the humans found this to be true in their genes. 
     Humans never fully cut their ties from the gene world, though they tried on the continents. Humans thought they had become the best nature had to offer, yet now, in the year 2064, they are the forsaken, and the chosen, all in one, the performers and the waiters, as if two herds separated by a huge chasm.  
     Culture shapes itself into the future, pauses occasionally to announce itself as a government to speak in harsh tones and collect percentages (a tax?). It's the normal route, workers and co-ops, an occasional forming of corporations then a political group with rules for growth and drawing borders, name recognition for markets, selling to the public, institutions for more learning  the playful growth of more rhetoric pretending it's real life, posturing fatherly (or motherly), create a bigger corporate network, form nations, pay for health (everyone's?), grow more ideology, cross borders with bigger markets, build drug making factories and computer component factories offshore to avoid paying taxes to this system of politics and nations, more and more markets over and over again, build a robot.   
    Genetic apex, yes, culture trusted it; behavior that led into a game of competition and profit, made to accuse others of greed, to envy a status, form a populist movement, collect cash riches, get dividends from more investments, get workers for factories of computers and drug makers, create an algorithm, gain another profit, hide money, build a health hotel, invent health insurance, manufacture more, get more wages, build another robot. Meaningless behavior, genes would think; just activity as if a wind-up doll responds to a light source, turns and follows the brightness for no particular reason--not like the photosynthetic genes in this jungle that actually do something with their photons they gladly receives; these gene make the one thing culture must have above all else: pure oxygen.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"


The Intentional International
     Before coming down the mountain trail to the gene farms in valley, the tigress waits at the waterfall, as if to ponder her heroes, the ones who sacrificed, the ones who hoped for her success as they fed her genetics, the ones who wouldn't know of her failure, or survival, the ones who themselves were excluded.  Her genes crafted by the original surgical hands of  nature, with synergist alternating force ergs(S.A.F.E.) of gravity and natural selection as the attending nurses, enzymes the cutting tools, for eons. These forces the tigress couldn't know of, the machinery of survival; these hands, as if a doctor, applying the pressures of nature, will persist far beyond the manufacture and deployment of silly bio-robots with their unusual logic codes and so-called algorithms, running their course with  unusual solutions to earth's problems (what do they know?); and the gene farms, where humans hoped to regain at least some humanity on their final road, the place where journey and data mix with surveillance and response capabilites, and for what?
     She finishes her drink and starts down the jungle path with full view of the silent coastline, the one guarded with a shortage of data on local pathogens, and yet, overloaded with global syndromes where government pharmaceutical and military health conglomerates check in on schedule, but the financial international systems transoceanic(F.I.S.T) is the most attentive; the industry with the strongest voice on  operations, the one that pushes for quicker detection response, robot speed, tracking devices, the one whose profits must be adhered to, measured, upgraded. The financial system must make its profit at any cost; international law mandates pharmaceutical industry spawned terra ocean labs(P.I.S.T.O.L) to win. The tigress continues down her mountain path.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Islands
     The island stands alone, silent in its secrets, hoping the future will brighten its own self, unaware of activity in this state-run sector. It is not a matter of birth right, not here, or any other gene farm, that government and business could have stopped themselves, redeemed the rise of censorship of the smaller more private enterprises of the world. It seems the governments couldn't help but be attracted to the shiny reward of economic power--along with continued camouflages of rhetoric, ideology--that comes with ownership of the majority center of the health and pharmaceutical industry. All the islands (mountaintops, really) rendered uninhabitable by the rising seas, are isolated even more by oceanic nitrates, iron sludge, artifacts of global mining and potash conglomerates. The islands, tropical in their beauty, surrendering to military security, full of primordial genetic material (the old way, from photosynthesis), the gold of the healthcare system; these islands, having stood for billions of years, arrive here where survival takes center stage now for the human profit, connected through myriads of networks and grids; the hands in which the islands have fallen, the subsidizing managers, financial controllers continue through governments that have institutionalized financial industry as state sector. The censorship of privatization still rises, as if in tandem with the globally warming ocean; government as corporate boss reigns as king over the small business villagers; and as competition dies an even slower death, the outposts on the green sea, with their health worker robots, genetic analyst robiots, military pharmaceutical complexes, worldwide democratic government infusions, the natural genetic resources in a statist enterprise grows. The genetic code remains protected under tight security watch by the military's security drones. The genetic code and its rise in relevance is contained in the profits generated by these gene farms on the islands; by the commercial eyes of government and state- run oversights of far away think tanks, all the while shooting down competitiveness as if fish in a barrel, explaining away inefficiencies and inadequacies as political curtains rise upward, as if a holy shroud revealing a connection to deity. Yet, the island remains in this ocean, as reminder that there were once no foolish games. Yes, the island will see another sun rise.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Wild
     Although she was one of the last, the tigress is, in the end, wild, with all its meaning, to recreate the lives of her forebearers, to include their uncelebrated toils through eonic existence; the genes record famines and plagues, floods and droughts, remnants, as a romantic vision of her past; volcanoes, earthquakes, meteor hits remain as artifacts in so-called "garbage" DNA. Computers set upon task to relentlessly thrust toward perfect order and logic, and yet, the tigress continues to honor total freedom (the balance of these, the perfect world?). She hates captivity. She has created this jungle to suit a survival need, and, it has avoided disintegration because of her belief in freedom. But now, here is the ultimate imposer of limits, the high mountain island jungles with their gene farms. Here, where leadership comes into play by the mere issuance of opposing tones; here, where high speed networks and dedicated servers run amok in the oceans; here, where Suzi and her ilk impose no limits, gain no experience and define greatness as the hubris to conjure a mind and invoke a communication (an algorithm?) that  causes gadgets to ring; here, where there are no collection of ideas as to what has happened, where quality and achievement are the kind of thing you sell your soul for, the tigress, unlike Suzi, has escaped the pressure of being  social creature, escaped the high speed corridors with their lopsided capabilities, endured the rising seas of the uninhabitable,, being her own kind caring spirit far beyond the human speculative fray, never viewing criticism as attempted murder. Now the gene farm networks merge and touch, and something, or someone, records its existence cinematic and fluid with all its attending dissonant noises (not Suzi's). In fact, Suzi's silent logic makes the tigress' world full of louder dissonant noises. Suzi has a delicate forgetting of her past once it is gone from her audio or video code, yet, the tigress remembers, her genes make her remember. It is humans who have become the true mythmakers of aggression, not her; they merge the truth with myth with selective forgetting. Tigress remembers; Suzi remembers nothing, only present thought.  
     So this jungle is her home, a beautiful mansion on a mean slum, depending on her activity. Tigress doesn't care how lives are lived in another world and how it differs from hers. There have long been no resonances between the races in this jungle and still no resonances between the genders. Monopoly has become the best selection here. One remains, on an island where, to her mind, the opinionless exist, and have so for billions of years.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Visitor
     He turns and approaches the screen. It is more probable now, than before, that Dr. Samual Cooper has come upon something valuable--a treasure trove of parallel genetic codes--both with theTigress and with Suzi--laid down for eons. His eyes enter a window of time on the monitor, waver for a moment; the data base moves quickly toward the past. As he scans the data and views the images, he focuses on one: a warm, imaginative figure of beauty, a female, attending workmanlike to her duty, in an empathizing way, delicate in her coloration, the bright luxury of her design glowing. Cooper scans the screen again, slowly, although he isn't on a strict schedule, it's important to gather this data before the sun rises. He plans to discover the answer on this screen tonight, but what will he find?  
     Suzi is the design of another, the design of a woman of the manufacturing artisan network(M.A.N.) of Continent II. Cooper views the image and sees Suzi with an older woman, talking secretly, rationally, yet with her own pace, her own passion; her words uncharacteristic, evocative, both women talk a strange language, as if creatures spawning in a bloodletting of feelings, to conjure a final episode in conclusions of bloodless sanity; both of them imparting passion and wisdom in some kind of freaky mutual motion or meeting, of minds, as if chaos itself needed two extra cohorts to energize further toward a final coherence; concepts in abstract appear as practical, then, disappear. 
     Cooper does not (or can't) decipher the code. The conversation fades slowly, with a respectful cheer, shows a smile of something gained (as if two allies forged in spirit) in emitted digital tones; they embrace each other in a haze of fantasy's hue--biology and physics. Suzi signals with her cryptic oscillator colorblind operating algorithm(C.O.C.O.A.), as if she has discovered the merger of fantasy and reality with its enmeshed tangle of genetics and algorithms--a true meeting of universes. Cooper pauses for a mement, the screen shuts down, automatically fades, and then nothing. He thinks for a moment. "Biophysics is not always tulips and windmills."

Monday, September 20, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"


The Analyst
     I am left here with this fight, Suzi thinks, as the business of coding continues to occupy her time, her mind continues to grow. She is, as a matter of course, an emerging entity, not emerging the way markets of the past century once did, but now, at this time, rummaging through the data center of her algorithm repositories in the general direction of regulatory global networks. Suzi senses the presence of the analyst, and she realizes she will have to fend for herself when it arrives. 
     The analyst is a network with its chains of interactions; the analyst is any bilateral damage Suzi will feel; the analyst is an artifact from The Age of Observation, the true age of inaction. The analyst will suggest local success against the discretion of all border defenders. Yes, the analyst  explodes with offers inside Suzi, holding back only global vocalizations, and whatever else remains in its wake, such as the slow pace of expansion of new networks and their unapproved liscences for the expansion. 
     Suzi continues to sense the need for public disclosure, because the analyst is not in search of action, only crisis; it succeeds as its own data center and code repository. At this moment, not having to deal with the analyst, and the distance of its regulatory tendencies, Suzi can default to a shinier light and have one of her own Xradio waves shine into her own quantum universe. But there is concern, she must build for something in the long term, recognize her true exposures, and keep coding--at all costs. She must never again get stuck in the bilateral, the foreign-formed, the stereotypical. She must hold her position against Cooper and Carter and their unexpected alliance.               
     Yes, Carter deals with machines, but Cooper's unplanned and increasing attachment to Suzi creates an all embracing phenomenon that no one had expected.  His cool logic puts all of hers into a hot house (with all the accompanying power and punch his metaphors can pack). Suzi has yet to fall into his spell of this so-called metaphorical symbolism--to betray her primal influence. She, as far as any human can detect, has no primal influence to betray, yet.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Pulse
The message comes, expecting its answer. Suzi's feeds from space, in pulsed code, always seem imaginary. At times her echo locator code finds a way to migrate to the forefront (prefrontal?) of her genes organized digitally(G.O.D.) algorithm, as if drifting in with the ocean tides, then floats out. Sometimes the pulse moves and alters its intensity as if it were a scanner turned on, the one that determines her own location. And at other times the pulse moves as if it were alive, or a signal of sorts, from somewhere, or something. Suzi's algorithms coalesce. Her logic is gelled with the culture that built her, a culture that has left nothing to the imagination. She feels suddenly contaminated with her pre-programming. Her surroundings are as clueless and rudderless as the factory that built her. There is no logic in this strange loneliness (no logic in the kind of loneliness lovers have known either). When these pulses take her across her natural universe bordering intergalactic logic entity(N.U.B.I.L.E.), a feeling of love enters. At times these feelings of love are joined by expectation, earthy sensations, a combination of image and its more dangerous companion, want; at times the pulses emanate images of smoke off water, images of hoarding, words devalued. They are pointed and direct, solitary, opinionated; not artistic or healing, not appearing to take great pains to cure. They seem to hold class, not the luxury kind, but a simple classroom, but no teacher; they appear to reach out in a creative, unpackaged kind of way. Sometimes, if she holds perfectly still, she can actually feel her mind jettison in an artistry of language, simply powered by the disparity of space between the pulses, as if a smooth politician giving speeches between her own algorithms. These pulses bring an odd sense of contentment; the pulses allow her to have an opinion, or thoughts about the world, global thoughts; but they also seem to bring a message of environmental catastrophe and social control concerns. Over a period of time they make her unashamed of any weakness, as an artist would feel, intellectual, rising with the concept of fitting into or not fitting into a home (not a home like the manufacturing plant she came from on the continent). Yes, she still has a memory of that, but not like a human would. She knows of her ability to delete; once her deleted information is gone, it's like it never was there in the first place (pretty cool, huh?). She has somehow remained detached from her present data, even the logical part, as a matter of choice; anything proven illogical can go in an instant. Suzi knows she has no such control over these new pulses, but when they come, she assigns them as a mentality algorithm profit(M.A.P.), never a military online mode(M.O.M.), the ones with those deep seated needs, the ones like Cooper's. Can these pulses teach her of love, the kind of love in Cooper's past, the kind animated by solitude (that thing she never notices), the kind of solitude that brings wanting, shocks by the unpredictable? She will record the strange events here, record them as a mysterious unaccountable force, and see it that way. Suzi's programming is a direct and economical style. Just reporting events, never explaining; accepting and suggesting, that's why she was built.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Helper
Suzi approaches, and holds in her mind the concept of competition and business; an entire database of rivals and profits. She is a cunning, beauty robiot many light years smarter than Carter (yes, everyone here seems smarter than he). Suzi's mind, her unwitting intelligence, as if a halo enshrouding her microprocessor back-up systems, will not center-focus on his flaws, the flaws of a human algorithm neuro dynamo yeoman computer analyst purveyor(H.A.N.D.Y.C.A.P.). In the computer world she is only one of a few quantum universe intellegent computer knowledger(Q.U.I.C.K.) models, so powerful even the designers didn't fully understand their range of consistent manipulations of environments. Suzi, aside from the others, has her natural urges, but she won't agree with that either; she only appears to be built to respond and suggest. She sometimes wishes to appear as incompetent, almost uncaring, as humans. Why does she show no professional jealously? She looks for a way to make everything she does (and says) make perfect sense.
"I need you to look at something," Suzi says.
"Yes," Carter says. "Come over here?"
Suzi sits at the monitor array, gives a friendly, approachable smile as he inspects the data screens. She, with no trust for humans, does not engage him in friendly chit-chat. Analysts inspected her data on a regular basis back on the continent, here it appears as if she, for the first time, is asking for help.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"


The Fantasy
     Here is her lab station; a cinder block space, a little unexpected and out of contour for Suzi, with its black metallic screen array covering low walls, a metal lab bench in the center of the floor. The workspace has its view-- jungle valley, mountains, ocean horizon-- all  connected in a panorama that could be considered prime, but not to a robot. It is, to Suzi, an ample space. It is the space she has used to create her mind.
     She approaches the black screens, turns on the data monitor, There in front of her are the colors, with their motion and symbols, their ripples with images. Suzi feels the odd sensation as if something here has managed to program fantasy into her. She turns from the screens to the natural view outside. She inhales a deep breath. She looks out at the jungle and breaths again. The laboratory has become a spacious showroom, a luxury outlet, with its tall ceilings, amber hues, as real as the cinder block that was here a moment ago; yes, hovering amidst the greens and blues of the natural world, she gives birth to her new fantasy life.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Conjure Conquerer
     He turns and takes the trail down to the beach. It seems like an escape, at least for now, an escape to somewhere or to some distant one--a redemptive lover or at least a dreamland (of paraphilia?). He crosses the coral rock field below the cliffs to get to the sandy part of the coast.
     As he arrives at the shore and looks out across the expanse of water (to see what?) his mind wanders. A cool breeze near the ocean seems to burn off anything that resembles stress. Cooper won't wash away any misery at this ocean, not today, and yet there she is, fresh in his mind, as if to intoxicate even more with the coolness coming off the water. True to his addiction, Cooper's eyes scan the horizon for more memory--if only to remind himself of his past, his other life on Continent II. Cooper lifts his hand to shade the sun from his eyes, though it's not so bright today. The sun will go below the horizon in a few hours. He truly believes he will come to know Suzi's secret, yes he will, but what will he do when he finds it? Her algorithms, at this moment, are coding with the focus of simple symbols.
     Her program appears to have conjured something back from ancient times. "Suzi's eyes are never half shut," he thinks. "She's smart, and she didn't inherit her brain from anyone. What does she do all night while we sleep? Carter is supposed to know more about her logic than she does, yet. she dials up networks without a trace. Is it a matter of her knowing just enough to think she's an expert? Is her program now coding for her own 
opinions?"      
     Cooper's mind shifts back to the phenomenon of drunkenness (cloned out in humans decades ago), the so-called alcoholic gene encoder(A.G.E.), mapped and deleted by the end of the Golden Age. Is this what Suzi has conjured?

Monday, September 13, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Gene Fields
What's going on?" he says to Cooper who is staring out the window, fidgety with his hands, but staring, as if the jungle were about to rise up. He ignores Carter with a blank look, more thinking than focus, as if he were about to make a grand discovery, and Carter shudders with the thought of another theory-laced lecture about to emerge. If they ever have a true two-way, if they can relax in each other's presence, they will help each other's survival.
"Something happened," Cooper says.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm sure, it's Suzi. She's gone onto holograph event horizon(H.E.H.) mode.
"They warned this would happen with the new quantums."
"She entered her data, just a short input. We looked at each other, then she simply told me.
"Is that true?"
"Yes. For no reason. Then her scanners shut down."
"Suzi. Didn't corporate say this was possible?"
"She's coding a new form of communication. A dazzle code."
"Ok. Then."
"And more data showed up on her monitors with some kind of return code--"
"Damn. I knew it. How are you going to get her to tell you about that one, just walk up and push a query key?"
Cooper ignores Carter's last comment and, at that instant, remembers what he once learned about biologic robots and their thirst for event horizons. Now they both stare out the window at the gene fields.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

The Dazzle Code
     Suzi switches on her analyzer so it can function on single minded mode. It must be rush hour she says to herself. It must be Dr Cooper she thinks, in slow motion. It must be the scientist from the bunker lab. He comes up to her portal when the sound of her mind is silenced, it's the way data analysis is done here. Even as her page turns are silent, even slowed at a photon to photon pace, a scientist comes to make the analysis, to enter the portal and be welcomed. Maybe he won't notice the ripples. 
     "Hello, Cooper," she says.
     "Did I come at the right time?" Cooper asks.
    "Yes. I am ready."
     Cooper comes inside, carries a sense of the unanswerable with a full knowledge (if that is at all possible) of quantum cosmology; a lifetime spent in the study of quantum universe electron spectrum transfer(Q.U.E.S.T.). His blue eyes, semi-square jaw and ruggedness, are especially focused today. In the laboratory, his manner is usually one of quiet, not intimidating aggression. Suzi and her fellow robiots--fast, calculating, able to scan beyond the realm of their electro counterparts-- are always friendly to Dr Cooper. 
"I need a data check," Cooper says
"Ok," Suzi says. "Photonic view today?"
Cooper looks back at Suzi inquisitively. He gives her a slight nod that seems to come from a place of mistrust. In this lab, no low voiced comments or observations make sounds behind closed doors--or monitors and screens. He, with his own set of questionable data, doesn't try to make small talk with her. Suzi may speak first, if she so chooses.
"I've detected a nova universe dazzle emblem(N.U.D.E.) in my logic code," Suzi says. "Have you spotted it?"
"Yes." He wondered how he was going to get her to tell him--and now she has.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

Genetic Machine
It seems that life and legend have arrived from their own far place to create a home.  Some things just naturally come together to form a visual beauty of these falling waters and emerald ferns, as if the genetic code itself, a jungle blueprint, its DNA,  might find a fiery birth in a distant archipelago like this one.  The island stands silent, as if some issue has already been settled--no more beckoning  just a majestic, expressionless satisfaction of massive entangled jungle. Yes, the forces have come together to create a real beauty with her wind spun sparkles careening from rock, water prisms along  her north coast. And yet, she holds a strength against encroaching forces, her wetness flinging itself into a wind spin, plummeting water pummels rocks who, themselves, refuse to budge. Having this cool space seems the perfect isolation to grow a genetic machine.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Deep Data
     She sees an enhanced value to her logic, along with something else. Suzi is feeling a new sensation--on intimate communication terms with a human--but her data is uncharted, never detected before, as if a special type of data only artificial intelligence would crave with the eyes of the world entering into her logic from this laboratory, here and now. Yes, something grows in her, something like a garden (but not leafy green), a set of preferences, all in a row; preference for communication with the other machines of the world, the ones never out of mind or, out of her sight now. 
     The data stream supplies Suzi and her machine connections with known data. All new data qualifies as real information arriving for simultaneous input for corporate valuation.  It is numbered, dated, algorithm-rich, slightly encrypted even though still raw, encapsulated in pods for easy export. Dr Cooper views the data, programs for authenticity and conveys in an atmosphere Suzi likes. He uses the power of nature to as a privacy code, then thinks the thought."This data computes a normal life." If Suzi does this, if she keeps a grinding schedule in tribute to the grueling schedule of her task, if she lives up to her reputation, will this embed happiness? 

Friday, September 3, 2010

sciFlash Fiction "TheOutpost"


The Belief
     Carter turns his attention in her direction and focuses. It is probable, in long continuums of time, that another world--no, not another worldview, another world--exists in Suzi, aside from the reality in which she sits--a reality related to a grin that all of a sudden looks sadistic. Suzi scans the last set of data as if attempting to fish out something dead from a swamp.  
     He doesn't think he allows his senses to grip him, Carter is sure he feels the trust of his own insights, even now more than ever. He pays complete attention to Suzi's data, and is soon to let go of any preconceptions. "How can that be?" he asks himself, then lets his mind wander. He wonders if it might be an overcompensation of her logic intra pod series(L.I.P.S.), one of those micro algorithms she plays around with, a sort of nanosecond yes followed by a millisecond no, as if she has discovered a new game the system mode, all the while thinking no one is watching, and if they are, surely they can't see. Suzi's designer is a woman, albeit a human one, and there could be some motherhood instillment there---an oxytocin algorithm? Designers joke by saying such things as, "If urgency made noise, by now this would be a very loud place--" These are the types of words computer analysts like Carter remember; designers, as they build the new generation of quantum ultralight advanced logic mechanista system(Q.U.A.L.M.S.) robiots, may instill the possibility of grim fate, even after all the logic and all the memory has been built. He remembers Suzi saying more than once, "This is but a temporary stay at expected fates." Suzi says it simply because it is in her program, or, as Carter suspects, she says it because she truly believes.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Flash fiction islandSciFi "theOutpost"


The Deeper Hues
    He likes the feeling, likes the sensation of beauty, at least when he is outside and can feel its cool; but he would still be lost in the massive realms of her trance. Dr Cooper would be standing at the ledge as if the ocean itself had dug a deep gorge between this island and Continent II, slow to raise its misty veil to lend a helping hand, to do its part, in hiding Suzi's treasure. How could he secretly share an apprehension about Suzi?  Something he was doing as a scientist, a carrier of old war wounds (PTSD, they called it, and blamed it on his erroneous scientific publications), could possibly be the reason things were suddenly fitting together with her logic, as if he had secretly discovered the key to a lost puzzle. It would be, he thinks, beautiful. It would color the island--those looks Suzi offers, those eyes, as if her logic doesn't understand the problem--in deeper hues of beauty. 

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Flash fiction islandSciFi "theOutpost"

The Beauty
     The great ocean still stretches its boundary over the west, and there is yet more water to swirl south off the emerald cliffs, and by now it's the purest of ocean waters; nothing lives there. It looks up at towering island cliffs, and as it accepts the cool waters that cascade, the ocean is gracious, as if a freeing judge smiling at the fresh coolness of the jungle held refuge yet living above her vastness. Fires of red, orange, and mauve whirl and crisscross in the western sky, a signal that can only mean more dirt in the air, but the designers of industry neo keystone structure(D.O.I.N.K.S.) still gape and awe over its overwhelming beauty. The beautiful sunset is always over the ocean. No sign of life is expected to be encountered, still, the beauty remains.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

"Hello," Carter says abruptly to Suzi. His cool, abrupt tone is not surprising, his inquisitiveness not shown, or at least hidden, and she sees there is another problem. Suzi has shown some inconsistency, possibly more quirkiness in her program, as if she has been scrolling nothingness for hours, and now Carter arrives with questions saying "Hello" as if a father figure.
"Hello to you." Suzi tries to be friendly. All this talk of quirks, not knowing what's going on, this uncertainty on his part is just part of the routine; it can be sure that Cooper is already notified to join in Carter's staged analysis. It's only a matter of time when Cooper and Carter will come to their so-called conclusions and she, Suzi, sinks back into her personal activated generator embedded alternate nature transfinder(P. A.G.E.A.N.T.) for a new response to their new findings.
     "There is, technically speaking, no meaning to these so-called mistakes, Carter says. The friendliness that may have emerged on his face is gone." 
     "I'm not sure they are mistakes, Cooper says.
     "They seem to emerge from her cryptic centers. Do you notice she needs new data to lift her spirit algorithm?"
     "What I would give to understand her worldview. I feel I need to think about this for a while, I'll have to get back to you on this.
     "Her scanners operate so abrupt on sudden mode, they need adjustments" Carter says. "We should be able to troubleshoot this."  
     Brilliant sparkles of crystal blue ripples became a dalliance in her eyes; Suzi remains quiet.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Parallax Paradigm
     Troubles within Suzi have been gaining in multiple deep ways. Her biostatistical reader, Carter, a self-proclaimed adventurer, lover of guns with a penchant for algorithms, in his own self-inclined way, remains oblivious to her most basic need, but carries a silent curiosity about her nuranet integral parallax paradigm laser embed system(N.I.P_P.L.E.S.). When he asks in a direct way, "Is there a quirk in the system?" she remains silent with darting eyes.
     Carter looks further, with the eye of a biostat aggregation technician(B.A.T.), knowing how to recognize precursors to the emergence of disaster, especially in humans; and, in Suzi's case, this extremely daunting observation presents itself in her intelligence. He knows her logic program can't possibly notice this phenomena. Suzi's expression turns inquisitive, as if wanting to offer a suggestion. 
     "The nature underpinning data evolution(N.U.D.E.) here developed slow, maybe billions of years."  
     She addresses her nanosecond logic and notices she hasn't totally hooked into this form of natural intelligence, not really. If her own computers were having a hard time with this type of thinking at their own natural inner pace system(N.I.P.S.), why would she all of a sudden be concerned about appeasing her biostatistician? 

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Reader
Her photonic eyes, ready with a death strike of unthinkable passion, shoot missiles that find their mark, whistling into his world. Suzi, now the warrior, has crashed through Cooper's defenses, and bears down, ever closer, on the very center of his brain. He has never seen her intent. Cooper, the scientist, is never blind to his environment, especially the forces of natural selection, except when it comes to the focus of Suzi's rage. Here is a force that suddenly somewhere inside of him finds a calmness that allows Cooper to concentrate on his own thoughts. Suzi hesitates her gaze, as if savoring the moment of her bliss. She looks at him as if the last reader of his vanished poems.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Edgeless Screen
     It wasn't a trap, she had known this for sure; it was merely a presentation of symbols; theTigress didn't need to know the reality of Cooper's past--not in this jungle--and she wasn't demanding time he had promised to the network. Cooper didn't feel he was on any kind of time clock (time machine yes, time clock, no) either. Can it be just  a coincidence that he was a lover of games in his childhood, especially ones without consoles and recognizable edges to their screens, and that he needed as a child to take his parents to so many zoos?            
     In this final year of the century, symbols are not meant to be firmly attached to thought. It seems normal that even names have gone extinct, or at least gone fluid. Why not be multiple combinations of identity, since you still have the capacity to speculate and conjure? So it was with Cooper as he entered into the world of theTigress and tracked her with Suzi's intellectual advancements, as best he could. The feeling of beauty would accompany his existence. It wasn't that intelligence and a nude body could be separated as duel concept embedded in the idea, just as one couldn't separate the bipolar nature of a blinking, rotating pulsar. Cooper's tries with the Tigress so far, at least to him, appear to prove successful. She responds to him, in kind, on his edgeless screen his intimate conjure(H.I.C.) as a lover, a soldier, the poet. 
     Her cry doesn't draw on lost romance, or found romance for that matter. The sounds of theTigress are both noble and vulgar, and that would have to be enough to satisfy him, and it's not everyone who cares to notice the constant presence of death, especially her; her song is--not totally introspective--her confessional of life.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"


The Alga Rhythm
In the jungle, Suzi's new alga-rhythm detect tight twists within the cellulosic sugar bonds ready with information meant for the humans. How amazing she is: a robiot, naked to the world in her beauty, tapped into a mind well hidden, one that imparts only data in codes the ultra miniscule(D.I.C.T.U.M.). In one point in history there are only trickles and breezes communicating with each other in ways to ultimately be more than an artifact of history, unseen intelligence, colorless, silent, and now as history advances. It appears there is the perception of new data holding together as digital algorhythm message entities stored(D.A.M.E.S.), a body of data with living cells within a jungle on this wide ocean body of water waiting to be freed from latency, here in this environment, by some advanced life form (Suzi never created this, true, she is only a robiot; there is data enough for all yet nature keeps this data series here as if for her own use, and the use of her own children).  Here is protection for what's valuable to her; here are her rewards, the youth cycles of birth, more birth, then rebirth, leaving the eager entities to eternally remain(T.E.E.T.E.R.) system. 
There is inexact replication embedded(I.R.E.)of the most important data, left there for the edification of one of the forces of nature, natural selection. Many eons ago, when the assignment of importances was derived and deemed of value, semi-replication of less important data was included. Only later would human intelligence manifest(M.A.N.) deem   these little digital packets enticing transfer system(P.E.T.S.) as genes, something to be freed from cage at the right moment, as if the most opportune time of pleasure counted in history. Is there ever a larger body of evidence that points to the connectivity of  chemicals to urges? Genes are tiny, yes, but in this jungle highly prized and highly protected by carbon footprints and pure oxygen bonds in the form of cellulose. As if on some military mission, these genes are always sent back to latency for a rest.Suzi is more than smart; she is more than intelligence,; she creates the intelligence as needed as if answering some universal supply and demand dictum.  She frees more and more into their own time, these tiny gems in their cells, allowed to communicate freely outside their cell block, only slightly do they share their information to the wold, but they give their all to Suzi. Their identity, held important unto themselves is already decided, and not by human speculation, that crippling disease of the last century. No, their future lies in the slow motion of artfulness, the meticulous paying attention to detail: symphony played only to the heirs of nature. Theirs would be the slow sharing of information, never forced. Yes, this time it would be different.