Spirits of Machine
Suzi thinks of her codes she creates as gifts; the offerings someone will like, or come to like, but not understand. Why does she create code for them? She was stationed at theOutpost out of talent, but machines have no talent; only speed and, algorithms. Someone has become her diligent, attentive companion. The good scientist. He has seen a lot with gene therapy. It's not about winning any more, it's about joining in. He doesn't know it yet, she will make him need her.
"So," Suzi says. "How's theTigress?"
He laughs. "Look what I do ," he says. "I come to theJungle and turn into a warrior."
Suzi is not surprised, she knows more than he thinks she does and, he holds no fantasy about her calculations, the little packages of code she peppers on him.
"You never admit you love theJungle as much as we both know you do. A committed, permanent, pleasant life with freedoms, and for what reasons? More time in theJungle darkness than in the corporate laboratories, just for the thrill of near death experiences. Only theNetwork thinks of you as a scientist; theJungle consumes you.
"Suzi, I know you know your feelings. It takes animalistic minimalism
to continue making you aware of them." He pauses for a moment.
"OK, so maybe I am a perfectionist, absolutist, always looking in one more place for cryptic data associated with free thinking."
There is nothing artificial about Suzi's look. It rips him right between the eyes. At this moment, he is not feeling even close to anything that resembles intellectual.
Suzi starts her next algorithm.