The Inner Alien
Suzi programs extreme focus into her lasers. Here she is at work, the station chief of jungle DNA, the sharpness, accenting beauty of form. She is shamed by nothing intrinsic to her nature, repetitive patience, finesse of movement. It is her ability at nothingness that allows the foundations of her empiricism, accomplishments of what no other had, gestures a perfect duplication of the next; discovery so simple, referenced from the nano-world DNA double helix machinery. Suzi and DNA survive as an expression of derivatives and functions, noticing no movements in the classical sense, no movement each and every cellular containment, except, in the duplication process--a system of the departed and the remaining--biophysics of a birth as if a dance.
You can visualize adventurer in the truest sense: speed and patience, a true esthetic--not given to drama in her activity--when it comes to tedious difficulty of task (Supertask?), unthinkable logic (pure rationalism?). Even in her truest sense--respecter of form, detector of pattern--Suzi contains small wisps of life in photons of mystery and faith (the primal source of intelligence itself?); with all notions of derivative long since formalized, she has become the knower of light, knowledge authenticating her freedom to probe the deep black world near the jungle floor shelf, nano-holograms mapping every Femptosector of the rain forest; documentation of DNA sequence genetic function still in its most primal state, sequences whose activity occurs as if dictated by the blackness of jungle--the marriage of quantum language and quantum structure, living just as the animals of this forest once lived.
The mysteries of the jungle had been obvious to no one. The DNA machinery, beyond language (even artificial intelligent computer language), remains true--the one with its own words and
thoughts; the inner alien