Showing posts with label Journal entry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Journal entry. Show all posts

Sunday, January 23, 2022

Hold you as you Die

 Dunno why this song had such an impact, really like it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11OMyDrf8iM

....here's a poem. Haven't done poetry in a while, and it doesn't even rhyme most of the time, because I'm rusty and being incredibly lazy about it. Enjoy~!




there she lay, dying in my arms,

 breathing as her life made its way through the spike in her head.

we both knew she was already dead,

 that this was one last chance to save her,

  to preserve her mind,

   and leave the flesh behind.

She held my gaze, script passing behind her eyes,

 endless numbers skimming her memories,

  archiving her life, second by second,

   as her body went cold.

I felt her shudder in the dark room,

 lit only by a computer screen

  dancing with her mind in plain mathematics

   half organic, half-yet digital.

I could see the pain on her face,

 tears streaming down her cheeks,

  teeth grinding until blood

   dripped down her chin.

She let go of me, and held her head,

 silently screaming, fingernails tearing her scalp

  while I cried, and I wailed

   with the sound she couldn't make.

Finally, she shook

 as if struck by lightning,

  then fell back into my arms,

   silent, still, and cold.

I heard behind me a machine, whirring to life,

 the click of chromatic feet in mock-heels,

  her voice calling my name through a box,

   beckoning me to hold her.

I saw her eyes, mock-flesh,

 perfectly colored, blinking,

  staring with the same love I remember in her eyes,

   but somehow still wrong.

A midnight lover's gown, draped over skin

 smooth as a newborn, flawless, creaseless,

  warm, supple, and inviting,

   not at all like her body in my hands.

I looked at her, still mid-scream in death,

 knowing the machine erased the pain of her last few moments

  gone for the machine, now lost to the woman I loved

   naught but a tortured corpse on the ground.

I could hear it behind me,

 could it even feel anger? Fear?

  Loss? Love? Pain?

   I felt her warm hand against my shoulder,

    the freezing metallic spike being pushed into my head,

     and the machine in front of me ready the program again.

"Your turn baby."

Saturday, January 15, 2022

history entry; New Dallas, Darron Bull, and Tanaka Medical Corporation

 Darron 'Bull' Robertson is a Texan native; he became the most powerful figure within entire networks of local crime syndicates within the state, which connected him with other figures within the underworld. After the collapse and the founding of the United Federation of States as a trade union functioning under a neo-feudalistic order, trade flows under the nose of the government, and pirates raid frigate as it travels between sanctioned cities. Everyone works for credits, anyway; especially pirates.

Darron began working as a hitman in New Dallas before his nineteenth birthday. His father was an accomplished roboticist, and he was already wearing the first Minos when he began earning his name, and eventually the name of his company, Bull, out on the streets of sector Zero. The small foundry community had always been mob-run, almost a kind of prison, prior to Tanaka Medical entering into the market. The Yakuza needed new territory, and when Tanaka Proper offered the mobsters more credits than they could ever dream of, the mob sold the land and fought over the money. Tanaka began building the sectors, including the Industrial sector, and eventually digging even deeper. They built New Dallas into a truly modern city, with schools, colleges,  public transit, grocers, and especially hospitals. Recovering from the collapse of civilization had been slow going for some time, but those that fled from nuclear destruction in Asia, who landed on the shores of North America, found a new world filled with primordial landscapes and vicious, heavily armed natives. Vast hunting communities had never even really forgotten firearms, a vital resource in the apocalypse.

New Dallas had existed hundreds of years before Darron arrived. Tanaka Medical's CEO, Kenshi Tanaka, had long since buried his claws deep and built the sectors of the city before Darron was even born. Already, the hospitals were curing radiation ills, constantly at odds with the wave of Yakuza that had infiltrated New Dallas, seemingly overnight. Along with the money, Tanaka poured people into apartment complexes, and began outnumbering the foundry workers, who worked underground. Eventually, they would build a new kind of sector, one with a reputation of swallowing tourists whole, the training grounds of militants who could, theoretically, work their way up to police work, if they worked with the Yakuza instead of against it. The foundries were older than Tanaka Medical's presence, and even the Yakuza worked the foundries in the start of things. Without the foundry metals from Texas, much of the UFS would starve for metals. Base materials sails into the industrial sector on a daily basis, as it did then, and the work was always grueling, filled with a criminal underground element that erupted into violent riots within the foundries, splitting territories and training members.

Darron wasn't born in New Dallas, and his arrival was at a time when the foundry riots had become increasingly violent, stopping the wheels of commerce in the process. Citizens had taken to becoming pirates, using civilian cars to stop frigates carrying goods - stealing food that would be too expensive to buy from the store, or filling the fridge of someone too rich to work for it. Riots spread outward from the industrial sector, and spilled into the streets of every sector. The starvation riots followed the foundry riots, and went on for a month. Sometimes, between the burning and stealing, there would be a day of peace. People would walk, and peacefully protest in front of freshly stocked stores, fridges overflowing with food, although the cost of any one thing was tens of thousands of credits. Tanaka would bring cameras for the news organizations, bringing crates of food and doctors who swore that they would find a way to solve the crises.

The Yakuza had become a presence everywhere in New Dallas. Every foundry gang had Yakuza members - most of the police were Yakuza, and every single upper member of the governing body was either one of them or working for them. Orders to get things back on track were met with the horrors of cutting down civilians in the streets, and days of riots following that. A day would follow of peaceful protests, and end in a wave of violence erupting between police and starving, angry citizens. 

Eventually, Nii-Sama found a way to restore peace. The governing body began to offer nutritank installations, graciously offered for free by Tanaka Medical, and free refills for tax-paying citizens. Nutritanks were an internally implanted storage tank that held a nanogel, which could provide food and water for a person for an entire month. Tanaka had successfully solved the hunger crises by invading the bodies of its population, which would continue as a trend into the future. Already, children had cerebral interfaces installed at birth, shoving metallic spikes into their heads from early adolescence. It better served the brain if it grew around the implant, with slight changes made throughout their life to adjust it.

Tanaka was there, invading the brain from childhood. Letting them experience the wonders of virtual worlds as real as the really real one, filled with sensations and fantasies beyond imagination. Programming interfaces had grown culturally as technology returned. Programming across the UFS needed standards if things were going to begin to work together independent of which city manufactured what, and the union went with NeoNet. Wired connections were religious practice from citizens, church-goer or not. Wireless had damned us all, destroyed everything.

It was the Church, after all, that connected people. It created emotional hive-minds, intertwining the brains of locals who could brush thoughts wirelessly with one another, sharing emotional thought as casually as spoken words. Once the networks were compromised, and when it all had to be shut down, simultaneously, all at once, less than 10% of the people connected to the network survived the collapse. Modern citizens only know the consequences - wireless connections are dangerous.

Darron didn't fight with the Yakuza. He wouldn't defend the people who stopped citizens from begging outside of grocery stores for expired food, which was guarded to the dump trucks before they hauled it off to the incinerators. At the end of the starvation riots, Darron refused to cooperate, and was arrested for slaughtering entire squads of police in the streets of sector 4, sector 5, and even sector 6, high up into the wealthiest capital buildings. Darron brought the citizens storming with him, working in tandem with the foundry gangs who he had befriended at his arrival, and took the riots up into the highest reaches of the city.

*****

The long, empty hallways were misty, with a low-hanging fog covering the floors of long winding passageways. A group of twelve heavily armed mercenaries were slowly making their way under the watchful mega-pix cameras streaming live across the UFS. Their armor was full neurodeck interfaced smart armor, a thick layered metallic battlesuit that did more to enhance their dexterity than detract from it - fully automatic weapons, demolitions, heavy artillery - a regular military unit, lost in a network of maze-like passageways.

The criminals were given the opportunity to live, if only they could survive the maze, built deep under Caesar's prison block, where Darron Robertson had been imprisoned. Could they beat his zero loss record? Thousands had tried, and the rising gladiatorial star had caught the eye of influential syndicate members already, a forceful counter-piece to the Yakuza. Bull was more than a man wearing a sixteen-foot suit of armor, cutting down men with a battleaxe while they shot helplessly at armor so thick, it took digging to find anything important mechanically. The modern interfaces he had snagged from the Church, whose angels had helped bring him into prison for trial and subsequent sentencing, gave him the same grace as if the armor were a second skin.

.............

Tune in next time folks, for more. 

Friday, January 7, 2022

Week 1; A history entry on the Church of Humanity - an introduction

 Sometime prior the inevitable destruction of our own environment, genetics took a great leap into the stars - two scientists uncovered entirely new branches for the human race, creating men as Gods. Children born bereft of fertility, they numbered only so many. A new society emerged, one under the watchful eye of child-gods, who were ageless, sleepless, with no need for food or nourishment - a drink of water could sustain them for months, and they could emerge from the vacuum of space, naked, yet unharmed. Children became adults, and they were barren to the last; their line would go on, guiding society as a stable, neutral independent government, whose members had seen the centuries pass as another season of their life. Eventually, hand in hand with our watchers, humanity recovered our world, and we saved ourselves from extinction through collaboration.

But, the mindless mundane ages passed for this new species, and they were bitter until their children were finally found. Genetics could not breed more, but inside of their genes was a whole spectrum of possibility - a flexible, adaptable genetic sample, ageless and exact. They bore children in the species of homosapien that followed their genetic experiments, creating ReinCorporation, a scheme to assimilate all of humankind into their genetic hybrids, and thus re-create the human race as we know it. The Genetic Hierarchy promised whatever wealth, job, or even genetics that a given human might want and happily offer to transport them, mind, body, and soul, into a new life. Almost overnight, humanity was hardly different at all, but they were all suddenly bound by the same chains forged by the watchers, and then, the Church of Humanity.

The Church is the unifying principal of the Genetic Hierarchy. It presents the promise that humankind is the peak of genetic principals, scientifically designed to represent the greatest strengths of its creators, each of which is in their own right a head of state within the Church government. They rule over their children, the ultimate authority on all matters. Once mankind was prepared, the Church built legions, and turned their eyes to space. 

...but our story does not concern space. The Church is, itself, only a reflection of what it once was on Earth. Much like its original intention of mimicking former religious practices, suiting to satisfy the natural desire for supernatural aid in troubling times, it survives as a husk of its former self, wearing the same clothes, but lacking the central point and primary figures of its original intended purpose and meaning. The watchers would not recognize what has become of Earth in the centuries since the collapse. They might very well flee it, if they had a choice in the matter.

Indeed; the slums of New Dallas rarely afford priests more than a few poor souls asking for prayers, passing the bishop notes, but never credits. The bishop knows, as a denizen of Sector Zero, that him taking the money would put him in danger. Nobody robs a priest, for a priest has nothing to take, he says. But a slummie knows what else the bishop has; organs, treated by the anointment of their order, with nanotech dedicated to cleaning him up before he walked back into the Church's narrow doors. Credits for pound, the bishop was actually worth quite a lot, but most slummies figured that casing a bishop would damn you for sure, and nobody else was selling you your soul, 'cept the Church.

The flood through the markets was half autonomous. Half-constructed machines shuffled through the endless rain, the constant downpour of Zero. Plenty of slummies still had flesh on their bones, if you counted half as plenty. Times had been hard, and fresh robotics were sold by the bin. Flimsy break-away stuff, something that was easy to make, cheap to produce, and deteriorated into useless trash quickly enough that it'd end up back at the trash heap they found its former plastic forebear to begin with. Bodies for scanned brains, fried heads and sold as-is; organs intact? Probably twelve-hundred credits, and that for an infirm subject or at least neglected, health-wise. A man could live in Zero for two months on that, with a decent stipend left for the health clinics at that. Why, you turn a poor tourist into a machine, take away his rights and identity, leave him for dead in the slums of Sector Zero, you could earn yourself a living. And the shares of Tanaka Medical and its endless vats of organs, generously shipped nation-wide across the United Federation of States, have never been higher. Tanaka Medical clinics aren't on every streetcorner elsewhere, y'know - Zero is a buyers market for flesh, every day. The locals say you lose something every day in New Dallas - Sector three, you lose credits; sector One, you lose a day for work; sector Seven, you sell your soul in a high-rise at the skyline; but in Zero, you lose more than what you thought anybody could take.

Mankind has become lost in machines - corrupted memories and a sleepless mind, a mere digital emulation of a human brain, imperfectly copied from a hair-dryer turned up way too damn hot, and now since, a synthetic mockery of the flesh. Half repaired, always starving for energy; homeless androids wander Sector Zero by the tens of thousands. The city could care less if a crazed pillhead decides to begin cutting them down in the street, sawing parts off of them, and selling those pieces to local shops, probably so they can go buy more pills.

Tanaka Medical has other concerns.

......................................................................................................................................................................

This is the first entry in a new series introducing the world of Hardcopy. It focuses on the founding of the Church of Humanity and introduces several concepts - namely casing, nanotechnology, Tanaka Medical corporation, the UFS, New Dallas, etc.

Enjoy? Let me know!