Eco Decoded

                       Science Fiction

#scififorgeeks

Eco Decoded 

She wanders up the old jeep path, goal directed, one objective in mind.

Her goal will have a point of honor--the simplicity of not buying into something you don't like--creating a replacement entity. 

Yes, the entity will be an official with its own poetics--one of those off-color authoritarians with a built-in feline timeline (as if an old-fashioned scifi writer who believes in herself, not taken to saying anything to win a point such as motherhood would).

It will endure brief moments in history such as when one must have a mink to gain respect.

It will be gifted with age so as to refuse to give a nanometer and, will demand instant retail retaliation far beyond anything theHumans could ever have imagined in the early 21stCentury.

It will owe nothing to theNetworks--the ones who set themselves in surrealisms conjured to cover with glory--eco decoded to be the rightful escort for humanity.

It will make another little dent in the universe suitable for …who? 

Biobot Belief

Science Fiction

#scififorgeeks

Biobot Belief

She lowers herself into theJungle, dons a suit for her survival need--the sun will track her inner circle with a few photons.

It's theJungle that avoids disintegration because of its underlying spaces--its real manifold becomes a threat to what all theHumans have built.

These are the forces that came to trust their own mechanics. They accept her belief in their own personalized degrees of freedom. 

She could never find the ultimate imposers of limits (surely they would not simply shine a signal light from shore, right?) that inhabit the deepest part of theJungle. 

She is conscious of the mountain islands with their gene farms--they too started with a simple trend of the game (a couple of bouquets and a few okays, a rearranged alliance). Yes, from violins to violence, she thinks. 

This is the place of perfectly planned genetic home weddings, the place that depicts where leadership comes to play.

Was it a mere issuance of opposing tones that gave rise to disease as an integral equation in quadratic form, one with an infinite number of variables? 

Was this how it happened?

The New

Natural Genetic

#scififorgeeks

The New 

The worldwide democratic may grow tired of natural genetic resources, grow tired of simply wanting  enterprise to rise. It may think it is connected with competition of primordial genetic codes, supposedly, thought to be under lock and key.

On the fringe of the global community, she takes a break to remind herself she is built with the good grass. She has figured out from her furious clues, her furions, that victimization needs family. 

It's not a mere matter of being contemptuous toward having to be ready for work--it's a belief in the power of the more-than-one. 

Yes, she is the singularity, the one morning wakings must warm to.

The others are in a place where an obvious sign of foul play still maintains its innocence even as it rearranges itself at the top of the food chain. It's a place where guardian angels are in charge of death, catching up with emotion--until all are caught up.

It's true. If drones silencing the airwaves can themselves be quieted and calmed by the little shivers of silence dropping from the sky, a new code will rise.

Science Fiction

Matrix Home

#scififorgeeks

Biobot Abode

She stands for a moment beyond the public conversations, listening with quick topic uprooters--new sproutings that would matter only to a writer's soul.

Her arrays of answers to the unforeseen encounter endless hokey-okays of theHumans. 

She is an inquisitive, rival-sided biobot of the new kind, with elements of appeal that grows, seemingly, with theJungle, only to disappear back into the dark shadows of database. 

It seems the island continues in its silences of space-time. It notices the myriads of reference datapops for uprooting proof, comfortable in its central role of the planned, ritual order, far removed from receiving clicks-in-a-database. 

The island's attribute as builder-of-influence has grown from traditional hierarchies. 

In the early days of the internet it was one of a variety of off-the-road, happy-to-see-you, not-too-tribal-for-society places, so full of its own myriads of networks, node trolls with grids racing in streams. (it simply added on, from the previous century, in such a way as to present its persona to theNetwork, expecting the plans of the later 21stCentury to alter natural courses to simply leave it alone) 

It's the island and all its attributes--nano-cellulose soil, non-clammering ritual decoders (not yet rejected as evil), able to house such things as cannibalism, to come back to life in a way no one would know--a true gem of the ocean. 

Biobot Blood

Biobot Blood

#scififorgeeks

Science Fiction

She takes her thoughts gently off the screen. She codes her secret strategies in her favorite way. She is smart and bright and not bothered by the trivial. She's like something you would find in game theory, always attracted to a shiny new reward of power at the very moment the recipe ripens. 

She, most likely, takes a liking to camouflages of rhetoric.

It's theNetwork that has bristled with excitement about her, instantiated her as able to diagnose all notions of fantasy, made her an infant to her thoughts, a flag bearer (or, possibly a drum major) of ideology. 

She upkeeps in upheavals, grasps succinctly cinched datapops. 

And an inquisitive biobot she is, giving birth to ideas during storms, up for drawing on her own blood in her own time so as to undergo the needed, endless ergs.

She is the biobot of choice.

Science Fiction

                     Relics of the Accelerated Age

She goes into theJungle, finds a thick-walled containment structure with a hefty piece of metal inscribed Batter needs the right fluff to blow it out of the park.  

She thinks. So, the rainforest fetes a new siren for winners staying in the hunt.

Once a holding ground for wily veterans and cagy upstarts, a unanimous nannie structure of choice when the old ionization blackouts came, turning an old storage site into a belly of an echo--the recant of a society that settles for only the crimes at hand with spent fuel robots. 

A bygone path leads up, and in its perpetual sleepiness, reveals nothing even to the culminate holy 

Something occurs to her, picks her up a little bit, pacifies her to battle the odds for a dark horse run at making sense of it all. Yes, futures spent on these particular desires know less than they are telling. 

In due time, she will know this is where theHumans departed from optimality--adverse response to the places in which they lived out acquisitions of sardonic superstardom personas. 

She checks her database for inadvertent ambivalence undermining her strategy using the most available metadata on constraints and, in a quick instant, her screen lights up. 

She has no anticipation of being surprised at gossip gone bad under the force of pure communication in her database. She is fully aware of the statistical odds of finding more on the cognitive repertoire of theHumans, especially in regards to their once-in-a-lifetime environment. 

Miscalculations of their own, icing their own bruises in the most savage of battles, under a technology that scientists did or did not have in an accelerated age revealing the most basic of human traits.

Yes. Winners stay in the hunt and yet, vampire demise seems to always have a stake in it. 

They at least optimally, tried to share the important information, the smooth manifold data with connectivity without pressure coming to bear to recruit.

A seemingly total disregard for the ideal pattern, collectively, for decade upon decade, with the beautiful talk of rhetoric as an art form unto itself. Yes, the half perished are always late to survey their fate while letting a word like disaster go extinct in a long-standing stupor. 

Whether to check or or not check (never mind rechecking) for applied correctness in a world now inhabited by longing for procreation for a woman, foraging for the man and aggressiveness. 

It's as if the underserved undeserved nosedived, unable to keep up with the hunt they cherish so. 

It is amazing, it's true, to uncover data hidden away in catacombs deemed [spent unconstraint fermi fuel enriched robots="suffer"]--as if only a plainspoken oky-doky-inspired token left to cruise. What were they thinking? Really?

It seems the sap just beneath had its own containment structure and immersion pool as well, its own exclusion zones, all part of a hiding place deemed reasonable by theHumans--a concept carefully placed so deep with care and, seemingly, with shared logic making perfect sense.

She thinks. Is going beyond the pale truly the remedy for a sagging sail? 

She starts back to theWorkhouse.



copyright 3.3.12
patrick d. adams
all rights reserved

Science Fiction

The Opposite of Faith

It judges and accuses with all the skill and bravado of skulls and avocado, all the sleepy presence of good and bad. It's the opposite of faith.

Shapes and conformations act as functions, knocking quick sense for a nanosecond into mindful arousal--a place where entities present themselves and yet, where even looking at nothing creates a pattern. 

How do you win?

Her photon array shines with signals in folksy furies, trendy rural uprisings in an urban stronghold forming a receiver system with the forest as tone setter, illuminating with quantums, even as theSun emits its wavelets which allow for the creation of shadows and entity to emerge.

It allows the assemblage and the binding of [hierarchical intact systems=:his"] and [hierarchical ergonomic realm systems="hers"] and [instantiation tasking system="its"].

She thinks. Yes the loveliest of all is best held close to the vest.

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.

Eco SciFi

The Genes

          Suzi allows her algoritms to be the operator --doctors and hospital teams--from the jungle workstation and soon, in a strange way, senses a contentment. A very small contentment. There are theHumans to wonder about. In some small way it's a consolation. Here is theDNA; the last primal link and, even though she's stuck with the role of doctor of the entire human race since the online unified great health system technology unleashing fundamental failures(T.O.U.G.H.S.T.U.F.F.) demise of the early 21stCentury, she is still positive the remedy lay here and not in the space mirrors. Warm steppes of a sun-drenched island jungle containing its own life DNA! The place of  health strengtheners are here in biomass quantity; the rejuvenators of immune systems in an age when an immune system is important; DNA for  forms of various systems--heart systems, stomach systems, mouths; functioning systems built by the genes whose precursors lie in this forest.  She had a specific task assigned to do and she meticulously pieced it all together with her intelligence, intelligence derived from the balance of energy once levied within life forms, the ones that once lived. For now, only the genes remain.  

Ice Cream Aloha

The Guardians

Scientists view politics with a continual,  intelligent, overly articulate envy. They feel, it seems, all of a sudden they have the edge, using various theories of the now defunct (at least waning), scientific method, the new persuasive technique to the world. Their education, the one they got from stacks of scientific journals, migrates, almost naturally, into all-talk (opinion?); there is the assumption that educated means smart and, smart means intelligent, the kind of intelligence that gives and receives correct information--it'll be the final death knell to the scientific method and the beginning of the more ideas that the politicos could solve any problem, including the one Magna Algorithma Pharma(M.A.P.), better known as corporate farm, has created.  ZContinent, by now, is paying for risky technology. Contradictions still rise between perception and behavior, merging political thinking (thinking?) and, at least what used to be known as, scientific thinking, into one event. They make the universities, with old stalwart architecture as a hallmark of knowledge, vast grounds (still green?) turned empty, they forget about mentoring and research, the simple concept of student--feeling they have done much for perception and, yes, world population. They survive in the world of computer stocks where digital investing entices, remains all the rage--for them only (who care about the dot com disaster of later 20th Century?) . They are quick to theorize with constant juxtapositions and fancy words. These are the science politicos, the ones who silence science, the ones ensuring regulation and protection remain as prevention. They are the guardians.