Science Fiction

Android Illusions of Adroit

I have come so far, she thinks, as the cloud frame fades from the monitor and she lingers at theWorkstation with her gentle thoughts--far from where work plays its last card to fight the sky, where mist is more dead than alive, where fate-defying psycho vibes remain at bay, undelivered.

She hasn't, by any measure of photon or quantum, come far at all, not by the standards of the [green robot advertising sustainability politics="grasp"] systems of the global.

Reviewing her most recent data, she glances the harsh horizon through theWorkhouse window and thinks. It's true, when it comes to the biggest shenanigans, God takes all.

She senses a cool rustic touch in the presence of her newly created preservation data--its factoid peppering, her constant tweaking and then, the taking of the usual constitution after work to simply rest.

No. Cruelty never truly lives forever.

Her technique vies for affection with innovative approaches. She recognizes the creation as an illusion--personal schema constant in the reshaping of itself at the very moment she codes her next algorithm.

The illusion centers around a single truth, a cosmic zygote, one that appears as if to seek a target, await a countdown.

It hatches, blooms in search of a new breed for all the world to view, embellished as slight amusement much like the old, unearthed works of the Battle of Manassas, couched in footnote knots alongside Gene Kelly and killer genes.

What is left behind is an unbending fact that, yes, some things are actually true, the type of truth that once showed up in black newsprint dressed in [family animation culture art data entry="facade"], a truth that finds its way fit to cancel the clumsiness in final rounds of goodbye speeches.

She senses, at this moment, the feeling of a single anti-photon, a weapons grade burp.

The illusion evokes the [bland law anonymous history simplex="blahs"], an anti-algorithm once used for the final cycle of homelessness (yes, once and for all, for the homeless, everything falls into place--wherever you go, nothing or anything happens)

The illusion appears to have been coded by its own whimsy, arbitrary data from an ancient cosmic past, returning, hoping to seek treatment.

She begins to think, really think, for the very first time today, but she needs to remain very still. She should continue to keep the illusion on and yet, it carries a type of persistence, a trick birthday candle constance, the showing of dreamy faces melting in tandem breaking all known laws of dripping.

She is able to see a small part of it as [mobile opinion mystery="mom"], one with the heart of a rainbow.

She will look again tomorrow.

Copyright © 2010 p.d.adams

Flash fiction ecoSciFi "The Outpost"

The Origin

     As Suzi's biosensors measure the jungle's system of separation(S.O.S.) of positive and negative charges, her observations confine themselves to the remote region; it appears she has already, over the course of a few days, written her own paradise program yearnings(H.O.P.P.Y), extrapolating life forms created by DNA sequencing--the way a data logger routinely extracts data for exact polarization densities; the way a 20thCentury explorer would position herself inside an exotic charged array of paired charges in an alien world for the simple thrill of measuring charge location and their forces of separation  (yes, polarity to calculate array density), electric field polarization densities, supercharged arrays of useful information garnered for the purpose of ...what? Her fine-grained assessments have to be connected, in a way, to DNA holographs, extrapolating species that, at one time, had shared this jungle--animals that had never gasped this type of heat, or humidity.

     Here is Suzi with the signature animals, the monkeys and parrots and here, placed in memory, are their hidden homes, gone for almost a century, well, less than a century, presented, showing on a screen for Suzi in jungle with never an ambivalent calling; her program, her very own genetic algorithms, need to see these forms on her screen. 

     The darkness of the rain forest allows Suzi to view the shadows, the same shadows that once meant nothing.  She holds still, fascinated with their intricacies. She searches the information of their charge arrays,with its division of charges and currents (yes, both the free and bound ones). Her collection of pattern entity data(C.O.P.E.D.) within this dense, darkened forest should be hostile to her lasers--they seldom work at night. Suzi senses no animal activity has occurred here for decades, yet expects something (wasn't the best time they liked to interact at night?), as if they should simply come out to play.  

     Suzi does not consider evolution legacy of pattern entities(E.L.O.P.E.) any sort of miracle. She considers they just existed here, as if a simple surface component of bound charges of jungle. She depicts the animal life forms that once lived in this jungle as real enough. She feels the scanned copy of DNA molecules alive, running wild as an algorithm rather than primal biological molecule. She views her extrapolated data and life forms neither with a feeling of loss or comradeship (pairs of physical properties such as location and momentum cannot be precisely known in a closed system); the tolal momentum of the jungle is conserved as behaviors of sequences of values--never converging (or, for that matter, never diverging), always having no limit--as the perfect cyclic convolution. She knows her job, deep in her algorithms: analysis of DNA signals in discrete and continuous time; to perform useful operations on those signals. Still the cloud of oceanic origin remains.  

Monkey Cloud

Aloha writers and poets,

     Can you see the sleepy monkey face in this tropical island cloud

at sunset? Enjoy!

Flash fiction ecoSciFi "The Outpost"

The Love

     Cooper appears to be so sure of himself, so removed, that Suzi senses his default (mode?) belief in a total absence of rational morality. She checks her retina monitor to assure herself Cooper was still here in the lab station, his adjustment level of getting used to working with the logic of so-called artificial intelligence, and the hope she might make a difference, or so she thought. She notices by scanner this was to be his last assignment with the Art-Intelle for awhile, the hope he wouldn't ever have to work with the neuro-net workers ever again, views it as wishful thinking, reads that deep down he knew it too, and even after all, in the short time they will have together, coding in this jungle, that he will come to appreciate her as a robot (her photonic logic is smoother?), or maybe that he could just trust her logic over the neuro-net workers.  

     She hopes somehow he senses a force of destiny with her. Her hope is emitted as an algorithm of how things are and how he should act, knowing full well that their dispute stems from the compulsive setting up of rival camps, rival thought tradition, each with their own data cloud, ways of approaching even shared data from a deep past. He senses that she needs him, even though he doesn't trust artificial intelligence, but after all, she is the new artificial intelligence, the latest model, yet still, there is something in his human makeup that she needs, it seems more that ever now; and he couldn't fight that awareness in her presence, and the experience of photonic logic had given her abilities theHumans weren't aware of yet. As of now Cooper loves her mind and the way she makes him feel, but he isn't sure if he will have to kill her or love her.