Rain Matrix

Rain Matrix

#scififorgeeks

Science Fiction

She enters as an image of an older woman with her secret talkatives and non-apologetic rationality. It's an entire set of logic at her own pace, her own passion that, seemingly, only cares in the dark. 

She is a containment field of words uncharacteristically evocative. 

Both women talk a different language, as if creatures spawning in bloodlettings of feelings to conjure a final episode of formalisms--[conclusion of sanity's instantiated natural entity="cosine"]. 

They impart passion and wisdom in some kind of meeting of minds, as if chaos itself needed its own pair of cohorts to further energize its push forward. 

Ice Cream Aloha

The Cool

Suzi peers into the eyes of Carter, continuing to wonder, if for an instance, about the statistical correlations she has included in her computations. It is a look he has seen before and expects to see again and again, her scanners sincere and extremely bright around her lasers, the lids of her eyes flashing in response to his presence that is unwelcome but not repulsed—the look of a bio-robot, full of language clouds and believable, waiting for intelligent life to utter something, realizing the importance of  their history continuing to ask questions. It is the look she can't stop giving here in theJungle, naturally in the presence of the systems analyst. As their eyes meet, all expectation dies almost instantaneously and here comes a more understanding, friendly smile from the assistant who has agreed  to help him, who does not ask difficult questions of him and who pretends to know less than she.

“Hello,” he says.

“Hello to you. How did the experiment go?”

Experiment go, she wants to know, as if experiments were not an attempt at truth but a political rally or sporting event to be either attended or marketed. Carter says, “It didn't work. Are those your results?”

“No.”

“Then whose are they?”

She smiles. “I've discovered something unbelievable, and I wasn't even looking for it.”

“An unbelievable in the database is probably more common than you would think. It's a waste of time to go looking for those types of language memes, wouldn't you expect?”

“Have you taken a walk outside?”

“Yes. I have experienced enough idealized pastoral landscape for one day.”

  “The jungle as serenity. It helps you code--finding and uploading useful language particles.”

“If you keep searching for your so-called useful language memes I can't protect you from Com:Trax.”

“You have to search for evidence of social bonds,” she says. Any little language particle will help.”

“I'll do that on my own time. I'm going back to my structures and systems theory.”

She wonders, then lets him go. She is programmed to simply leave him alone. Anyway, not caring about the unbelievable is a relatively new trait in theHumans.

“You should join in as part of the perfect pastoral setting,” she says. “A real exercise in moral discipline, behavior, amendments of thought, being child-like (no, not childish)-- simple, unified harmony. Wage a war, if that's what it takes to get started.”

“I will take a look,” he says, knowing the true intent of her words. He rotates, slow, sure in his movements, the prosthetic heavy on his shoulders. She has started to be, even more now, amazed by his history. He could possibly be the most survival-oriented human she will ever know. His neura-net prosthetic was the first of its kind. She knows the structure and systems theory that went into it. And he is her analyst. He is Carter Recruit, farm boy and pastoral, emergent as a military poster on a shiny scientology magazine, fighting the wars so many years ago on the oil deserts in camouflage, and now Carter System, here at theOutpost. He has continually held onto the belief in the final determinant, recently, as if the perception of the countryside and farms, the myth of a peaceful life, has been removed from all memory. He's emerged as the one who went to the metropolis wars only to return to monetarily purchase a homegrown chunk of pastoral all for the simple reason of ...what?. He's started to appear as the very machines he went off to operate so many years ago (after his first childhood operating of a horse and plow), the headwaters of a working system, titles, inheritance, the making of a name. He remains staunch, remains chiseled in profile, remains genetically intact with his primal elegance, all the genetic potential for religion and friendship and art-- the ability to artificially recreate the natural--but he now carries himself as a reformist (yes, that's the one instinct that replaces regeneration, personal growth) with a steady cool, the coolness of a funeral.

“Ok, then,” she says. “I'll return to my database.”

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.