Xradio Spectrum
Suzi is on the verge. She has created this massive data base, and now she meanders with her own memory of self. She has taught herself in this past year how not to have the urge to scream, or to make any shrill sound whatsoever. She has learned not to have the temptation to writhe in pain, not only for presentation to the network, but for the purpose, sweet and simple, of showing there could be no pain. And no illusion of pain. She is the data master; the others are, purely, analysts.
The jungle is all about pure water and cool breezes, intelligence again held captive, forcefully, by the unknown, that was once known but now has gone again into remission, as if knowledge were so many tumors humans endure back on the Continent.
"Humans will survive," Suzi's data reads, even though they will not survive at all; not after all this. If Suzi had simply done what was expected, done her job, done what she was designed to do: align parallel DNA codifications--active gene sites, transcription factors, protein elicitation--the survival exponent xfactor(S.E.X.) would have created almost any good result in a human: artistry or a creativity urges; that would be survival enough itself. She could have, early on, entered into her laboratory outpost station transfer(L.O.S.T.) assignment and coded for "Why don't we just forget about that corporate labor origins conundrum knowledge human urgency mechanism(C.L.O.C.K._H.U.M.) system the networks are so much in love with back on the Continent, our data in this jungle will work just fine." But no, instead she tracked direct onsource nanosphere universe transfer spectrum filesinteractive xradio(D.O.N.U.T.S._F.I.X.), more interested in universe games on her compressor than their so-called healthcare agendizing human apathy(H.A.H.A.) program. Suzi is now beyond serious.
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