Flash fiction ecoSciFi "The Outpost"

The Conceptualized

   

     Enzymes are continuing their (partially functional?) drive toward a Darwinian extinction, floating in the arteries inside the bloodstream of theHumans (high levels of amino acids means high levels of risk, right?), when they run into yet even more trouble. How funny theHumans used to ponder that they would survive (much like they thought they would in the later 20thCentury); they would ponder cytogenics, molecular genetics as the route to salvation. They have come to see it different. They still think all diseases have a genetic component, now cyber researching in the direction of a fancied magic bullet, competitive urges once deemed normal now rife, as if tumors of maladaptation scurry toward their own little fantasy of domination--which surely has agreed to come out of the darkness--agreeing to be a worthy opponent to the soul of theHumans, appearing as it did in the ancient animals of jungle, eyes glaring. Even if it approaches from the opposite direction as if the new Madonna, the holiest of holy, theHumans take it on, remaining minimized by their own outgrowths of aggression, after all, obtaining a human genetic makeup was once so time consuming, right? Should they feel fortunate that even today they remain alive? They view themselves as all different, needing to know the genetic makeup of each individual, identifying a cause, tailoring the treatment. Yes, theHumans created this brand of socialization, started from a simple, genetic, competitive urge. 

Sudden StorySciFi "theOutpost"

The Remote

     Pacific mountain hamlets hold their own brand of community interests, and these interests vary, seemingly, from island to island, held intact by at least two opposing forces. The genes on this particular island are made up of simple DNA, holding answers in the form of information (no, not data), as if waiting for the arrival of some form of pure science, yet purposeful in their disinterest in politics. It is a pair of forces--much like that of prey and predator where a jungle invites the use of its battlefield platform--that entice, yet warn, of the dangers of demise (to both parties involved), the forces that inform a benefit even to the hunted. Have theHumans bound themselves with the mechanisms of these forces at some place in time in their feeble attempt to define a place as local, discretionary, environment? Or is it that some other entity, some cosmic dark matter, designs its own environment for theHumans from a distant outpost?