Ice Cream Aloha

The Findings

        “Are you willing to do this?” DrCooper says. “Please tell me you will do it.”

        “I can't say. Stop asking.” She removes herself from the conversation, goes offline, begins to wonder; hateful of Carter; in away, logically curious about DrCooper (she's the one who codes forms and objects into their own  coalition of one—she herself continues, in her own spacetime, to be formed by the very nature of her quantum logics and the pact she made with theNature--in a simple gester to lay claim to, or at least taste, individualism. She thinks about writing, with the simple cache code of her newfound image game, a children's book (a children's book?); entering herself and her fragile imagination into the fantasy world of “BioNa and PhysWo” and helping them find the answers to phonons and solitons. She goes back to her work of raw surveillance (secretly coding properties relevant to her tasks and the tasks of others), passes through the interface that allows her to interact between languages and images, then onto the cache holding the spatial conspirators informing eco nano conscious entities(S.C.I.E.N.C.E.). The spacial colors warm something in her as they translate into pictorial mode. She is satisfied, happily, at assuming the position as the operator for analysis of signals (her favorite identity that allows her to do many things): act on her own analysis, use her format analyzer manager entity(F.A.M.E.) that she wrote herself, be useful with her own discrete personal time frames, expand her interests to altered time values (they seem like entertainment) as she watches her sensor data go off the charts, as if Earth itself were the next patient in her waiting room. Suzi doesn't have to remember any of this (really?), all these abilities that bring into question her controllability; she will answer those questions by DrCooper, then make Carter wonder about her anomalous telecommunication signal, the signal he claims to be infinitely planar. She works pretty hard for her level of maturity. Recently she noticed her percept and linguist data help her relax; she senses her signals don't always represent a physical quantity, or whatever Com:Trax deems them to be; the big-oblong-short-small(B.O.S.S.) entity that has enticed theHumans for centuries, it seems, into a frenzy only then to disguise itself—it lasted just a blip in their so-called standardized time—as something important, a perceptions analog language (P.A.L.), in the time given them. She imagines herself through the eyes of Carter, the old Gulf War veteran, who constantly attempts stabilization programs, trying to impress DrCooper with his little feedback loops, who even now, with all his bionics and neural prosthetics (no, not quite neural net—he still has half a brain) is consumed with intercalated peace and rage at his military wounds (but, of course, not the military) and their supposed benefit to him as a future (futuristic?) computer analyst, and who seems to hate Suzi's one-upmanship with her system state analysis measured in yottaseconds to his little loops and sequences.. That Com:Trax, networking globally and now, sure of Suzi's unobservability, has purposely made her configuration space undefined, operating under the laws of uncertainty so even Carter would lose track of her manipulations, the ones they deem admissible and permissible. It seems in her quantum framework, anything goes at any given moment, and as her values and outputs become instant variables (Com:Trax mainframe had allowed her, again purposely, to assess the states of her own framework) she'd been vaguely, almost obliviously aware of. She'd been given a presence of mind configuration--continuous, instantaneous nows. Now she knows for sure it is Carter (is he really half human?) whose external input attempts try to finally settle the long-held question of  how to alter her internal state-of-system(S.O.S.) from initial to final within the framework of her infinite spacetime intervals (of course, a complete impossibility). She hates him, now--even more than ever.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Replacement

     “What did they want?”

“Just to ask if there is some spacetime element as theDNA unravels, and they want a few answers about the coded message distorting spacetime. The logic probability—the question of specific primal content in DNA in a jungle environment; mostly topics of my capacity for holographic storage. “

“So,” Cooper says. “it will have to wait for the answer.”

  “It says it simply needs to record all the novel biophysical electron utterances on theDNA. It says it's useless to try to encrypt data, to try at all., but theJungle simply must release sequence identification with molecular components that interact with the outside world as a micro machine—not a single molecule electronic component.”

Cooper questions Suzi who doesn't want to answer, doesn't want to code right now. 

“It will have to be their way,” Cooper says.

“No. It will not. I won't do it. Why should I care?

  Suzi is feeling the effects of her size reduction in her electronics--controlling properties at the molecular level. Now it starts. Here comes Cooper the biologist, DrCooper the singular human who is supposed to care, be assertive, confident. Here it comes; Cooper's inquisitiveness into the electronic properties of the molecules in the material that comprises Suzi's affects, her bulk property, her material; here come the questions of her expressive analogs to natural science altering her logic, her geo spacial experience.Suzi has just started to wonder (much as Com:Trax probably has), that Cooper is the one who needs to be questioned—Cooper and his ideas that a single molecule is the smallest stable structure in the human imagination; his brotherly love of theHumans; his ideas of molecular components as the final miniaturization; his love of bulk materials (now extinct due to expense and overuse). Cooper has always appeared, until now, as a symbol of integrety and articulation—a pure science warrior. The majority of these human types are no longer standing up in their ideals; how many people allow scientists to politically exist with their electronic circuitry and molecular bickering compounded hourly, their lack of discovery of molecules with interesting properties in theJungle, their politics. Suzi has emerged, it seems, irreplaceable.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Beginning

 When she turns again to the window she gestures toward the jungle. She has arrived, she thinks, at theJungle; she will stay in the jungle, like theTigress, though Suzi's stay is the place itself, the experience of a feeling, the returning to a home she feels she once knew, and can learn of others that exist--not so much an environmental home in the sense of obvious forms, but a more subtle form, a form of patterns, of photon-driven machinery that twists and wrenches into double helical forms-- in circular forms of the power of arches, circles, helix entity systems(A.C.H.E.S.). What a feeling! It appears that  she can relax, she can study in the midst of theJungle; if she allows for the complete interaction with all the stimuli it has to offer (revered by early inhabitants now long passed), all the strangeness of feeling emerging as if revisiting birthplaces, not a place with boundaries or allegiances or armies as such; the sleepy presence of good and bad, of patterns, as intelligence itself lives here; as entities present and recognition takes, or the photonic array shines, informing, illuminating, as theSun emits in particles and wave forms allowing for the creation of shadows and other things to emerge, allowing the assemblage, the new human intact systems (H.I.S.), human ergonomic realm systems(H.E.R.S.) to become another transient place of passage, the beginning of a journey to the Outpost.

Rainforest SciFi

The Dark Primitive

     It is watching its mannered subroutines in the dark part of the jungle, coding within the  cellulosicDNA, when it notices the threat (or, is it an opportunity?) getting closer and closer. It believes, in its own time frame, that it should capture the patterns in the greenery encapsulated within their own forms; it believes it will invoke and execute the exoticness of the forest; it believes it will own something as exotic as intelligence itself (an idea somehow lost at the fuzzy top of the learning curve among theHumans). It does not get the exact data values it seeks. It stays with its call program, coding deeper and deeper into the jungle, still holding onto its own result, trying to sense the ways of collecting information within the heartland of its own immense mind. Even though jungle intelligence (at least, the kind found here) will never be flashy, the oldest activity of theHumans has forever been sharpened by it and, sped-up; yes, intelligence still remains intimate with matters of life or death. It views the data, for a moment in a meticulous manner with no obvious gestures, the pure computation of result guided by parameters of jungle, values guided by the attractiveness of secret form. It has  taken a daunting task and made it commonly available for the remnant activity of  the global data utilization management bureaus (D.U.M.B.) and, for the bureaucrat exchanges altering technology-unifying  politicos (B.E.A.T.-U.P.). It appears to remains intact as a primitive orthogonal readout coherent intelligence nodule entity(P.O.R.C.I.N.E.). It emits a slight smirk.

Jungle SciFi

The Effective

     Suzi smiles at how easy this will be; she views with interest the heart of theJungle. It seems to look at her. They wait  for a nanosecond, an eternity in their own spacetime, expecting something from the other and, for one instant, it is what her quantum program reveals it to be: a childfree machine with no concise descriptive elements shaping itself with its own event horizon, one that follows its own datasets as simple lists of operations, not mere objects. It is a format with its own filing system and it is an exact replica of its own entity descriptives geometrically enticing system(E.D.G.E.S.). It will want more cubes and spheres but in this instant it sees itself in trees and topology patches as functional as any mesh or cloud computing system ever made in the entirety of the known (by who?) universe. It wonders about its future creations, from these simplest of beginnings, forms that will contain all the love and want for peace and yet, with all the energy of a pure black body (yes, one in total equilibrium)--one this little planet has yet to see. The form will perform a list of operations and actions of survival in no such way as the old forms created war and death. That is the way bio encoded algorithms ultra technology yearned(B.E.A.U.T.Y.) wants it: attempts to describe, to fashion, to sequence with processing steps of operations that want and make with the creativity of found freedoms. Wasn't this whole thing once begun so long ago with the simplistic idea of designing a few rules? It's only a set of shapes, it wonders. I'm just saying. There are operators and there are operations and then, there are, simply put, objects. Now comes the new, standing inside its own event horizon, in command of infinite combinations of bio intelligent tinkering scripts(B.I.T.S.) on an island in a lime-green sea; it plans to fulfill a new awareness of aspirations, of generating functions as any algorithm typing its own shiny new symbol of code, a creator starting over; this time, effective.

Tropical SciFi

The Probe

     She scans with purpose in the direction of theJungle, not sure of what she'll find but at this moment she is partially thrown off by a statistical measurement of more than tera-billion electron volts in the atmosphere, time evolution within theDNA systems, and wave functions denoted as math structures on her screen; uncertainty (encased in what seems to be an infinity of probabilities), existing as states in time, causes her to wonder about her own role as a probe. She turns, scanning theJungle and theHorzon, then wonders. The appearance of a gravitational force above her; quantities show on her screen (though she has some of her own doubts on the physical validity of some of the known results and, quite simply, can't believe them). She scans the forest topology for oxygen (was there any doubt there would always be enough?), a little change, physical laws of nature suffering slight modifications, as if something were creating its very own spacetime. It shows up on her screen again, blips, returns again as an artifact of the smallest time interval ever directly measured (at least, measured by her)--a single photon traveling faster than the speed of light? As her scanners move again in the direction of the horizon, she wonders about how strong this force really is, to be sending photons to the border of its gravitational field in which flow speed is altered back to less than the speed of light, as if the presence of some new event horizon were about to make itself known. She thinks of herself as the one who has detected all this. She does not feel like a technician in the slightest, not at all; today she'll do science.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Plan

     Suzi senses Cooper and turns to address him. “How have you been?” she asks, then emits a facial algorithm center topographical of interested digital(F.A.C.T.O.I.D.). She wonders if its one of her behaviors; one of the minuscule arrays of inflection, that just won't adjust to his  presence, one that may cause a future disruption in their relationship. Her personal property of emitter matter(P.O.E.M.) expresses a quantitative reading of warmth. Her algorithms allow her to calibrate at a variety of scales yet, her sensors indicating all readings of Dr.Cooper  continually show, “unreliable.” These readings shouldn't surprise Suzi (or, her database), yet they often elicit warning responses on her sensors, even after Dr.Cooper's individualism and constructiveness, his cooperation (after all, her recognition sensors read Cooper:ation, not Corpor:ation). Suzi wonders about Dr.Cooper. She spends her spacetime thinking about him mostly as a result of her recent collection of curiosity algorithm tracking system(C.A.T.S.) uploads, and she does it mostly for reasons her automation knows as repetitive actions (yes, she hopes to someday build something with him, a vague notion her database indicates as adaptation), actions that need refocusing. Suzi will do it.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Springboard

     There is a certain unease in the global language of programming societies(G.L.OPS.), and Suzi seems careless, at times, with her algorithms, each completed faster in spacetime, each becoming the springboard into a new program. Staying at her workstation with a view of the rainforest, she takes her cue from Nature, the way it simply lets evolution devise its patterns on Earth (forever?), endless invention upon invention, additive manufacturing, the mother of new patterns joining with ...  quantum language?  It is Suzi's forays into empiricism, being there (through her sensors and scanners) in full sensory mode, her hyper logic (yes hyper, to her, means infinite) presenting points of no internet entity saturation(P.O.N.I.E.S.) that allows for no top to her learning curve, surrendering to non-effort, non- disparity. Suzi is placed in Nature to learn more how Nature rebuilds, the one activity that allows for the marriage of sensory experience and pure thinking, rational empiricism, planned Empire building (not cut and started-from-scratch through the coincidence of catastrophe--urban planning at its best according to theHumans). Suzi is just beginning--even as innumerable and unthinkably exacting requirements present themselves--her journey as a sensory thinker, about to experience the sensation of active knowing(S.O.A.K.), the real pleasure enticing cruise of natural selection(P.E.C.A.N.S.). This is going to be fun. 

Ice Cream Aloha

The Recode

     She senses the geothermal shock waves within the magnetic field. She interacts, unknown to anyone, as if solving unresolved questions with her automation. She remembers her developers. She remembers their sequence of instructions, their versification, poetry--written just for her to perform a spectrum of tasks. She remembers her young self, learning respect, innate refusals to be set up as a standard, refusals to disappear into the data: so many algorithms for such a young heart. They did their best; a true technical build by machine standards, a reliance on simplified models of human brain.  She is, after all, fulfilling an obligation that meant so much to them. She thinks of functioning properly, executing her instructions (as if she actually had in her possession one of those old fashioned central processing units that she heard so much about), sequencing basic logic--operational for their system--allowing false hope to disappear as if it had simply vaporized. She could erase all matter of tragic fate theHumans may not finish their work (wasn't death itself always the only way they may leave this place?). She imagines remaining custom designed, one-of-a-kind, complete with infinite arrays of microcode (yes, even a nano is a truck to her), living forever. She could inform them all of the pleasures of a marriage between the natural sciences and, well, a formal one--nervous systems in a mathematical point of view--surely they could make an approach toward the understanding of this. Using a systemized set of speculations, she rethinks her design as a one-of-many in its purposes. Her unusual mode (mood?) mathematically guides another attack on her logic program--view of the opposite appears promising; and if her logic and statistics return to standardization trends (long her basic), they won't permit the design of a more complex life, one of unlimited application, dedicated only to her. She is firm in her decision to recode. She has always been perfectly articulated and formalized. She was built for it.