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Showing posts with label Week 05. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Week 05. Show all posts

Monday, February 4, 2019

Emergence 4.0 - Part One, Jim and Kathy; Chapter Four, The Mechanics of Being

A Novel – One Chapter Per Week
Week 05, 2019

A wormhole is not a tunnel in space/time, linking one place to another. Nevertheless,
that was the common conceptualization of it.

A wormhole is a shortcut through subspace, not a passageway at all. It is a transposition.

It is trillions upon trillions of atoms turning on point the point of pin.

What makes a journey through a wormhole possible is quantum enmeshment and entanglement.

Things and objects cannot pass through a wormhole, but waves of electrons, and electromagnetic fields can, consciousness can.

A passage through a wormhole is to space travel, the same as the solution Alexander provided for the Gordian knot.

It is instantaneous, and direct.

It cuts right through the problem.

Vast amounts of data can pass through a wormhole, faster than light, the upper limits of the speed were unknown. The only limitation to such data transfers were the limitations housed in the physical nodes that sent and received the signals.

The science and technology of the Continuum had developed the machinery to transmit tens of billions of signals from millions of worlds, simultaneously. Every detail of the lives of the person they followed, on every planet in the Galactic Empire was sent in an ongoing stream, that was received and processed on the Central Planet for consumption by the Collective.

Not all of the data was of interest to the members of the Collective, but all of it was stored in the vast subconscious of the artificial construct the Collective had created to manage its affairs, the things whose designation was, the Continuum.

Through that collection of data, the lives of every citizen, the most intimate details of their joy and sorrow, became grist for the mill that fed the Collective endless hunger for narrative.  
A flash of violet turned to white, there was a jolt, and a buzz, and a tensing like a seizure, followed by a sequence of darkness. The transition of his consciousness to the center of the galaxy was complete.

Jim, the Observer, arrived on the Central Planet in the body of his mechanoid self.

He opened his optic lens.

He was home.

He was safe. He should have been, but he was carrying a terrible secret. Ages of careful planning, planning that had come to define his existence would come undone if he was discovered.
He was not Jim in this place, even though everyone here, every member of the Collective, and the Continuum itself, knew that was his name on Earth.

He was celebrated.

When the Observer returned to the Central Planet they did not simply rejoin the Collective. The Collective and the Continuum were cautious, preferring to filter the report of every Observer before they allowed the information from those reports to enter the common consciousness of the HomeWorld.

And so, the Observer occupied a mechanoid form, with physical powers greatly expanded over the organic life forms they occupied on the worlds they observed.

The mechanoid body was attenuated to the cynergenic field of the HomeWorld but it did not have direct access to it. A physical uplink would have to take place before the data from their last cycle of experiential living could flow into the consciousness of the whole Collective.

It took time.

Jim knew this and he was patient.

There were Thousands of Observers coming and going at any given time.

Jim would have to wait his turn.

Many of the Observers, housed in their mechanoid bodies were also waiting their turn. They communicated with one another, sharing the highlights of their latest adventures, the triumphs and tragedies of the worlds under their watch.

They all knew Jim.

They were envious of him.

He was a trailblazer.

He had come to define the Observer Corps, they all felt intimately related to him, despite the fact that he himself was apparently indifferent to them.

He was a star and he was held in the highest esteem by his fellows.

Over the ages he had provided his fellow Observers the most interesting posts. Leading the Empire to gather all of the ancient societies back to itself.

The drama of those discoveries had sustained the Collective, providing its members with a sense of meaning in their lives, and of course, he was Earth.

The charge of being Earth’s Observer naturally fell to Jim, he discovered the lost colony himself, as he had done so many others. He established all of its infrastructure, and he channeled the living experience of that planet to the Collective for consumption.

It was the most watched world in the Galaxy and the most remote.

On Earth his name had not always been Jim; it was merely the most recent name he had adopted as Earth’s Observer.

Jim was one name among thousands that he had used over the course of as many lifetimes.

His real name, the name of his nativity, that name was lost deep within the Continuum, as all names belonging to members of the Collective were, but it was not lost to Jim. He belived he had found it

He had the barest fragments of memories of what his mother his mother might have called him, or what her aspirations were for him when he was named.

Though in fact, he doubted whether he could trust those memories at all.

The Continuum referred to him with the designation: Observer-92835670100561474. The names he bore from one lifetime to the next, they were only known as part of the narrative report his mission required him to deliver to the Collective every one hundred solar cycles of his planet.

Regardless of all of those possible and forgotten names, possible and forgotten pasts, and artificial designations, it was Jim who came to consciousness in the magnetic field.

He was James.

It was a name he had adopted from a piece of fiction, a Captain of a starship, in a popular television series.

He arrived on the Central Planet, the HomeWorld, for what he was sure would be the last time.

If he survived what he was about to do, what he had been planning for eons, he would never return to the Observer Corps.

It would be destroyed and when he returned to a body of flesh, he would be going there to die.

If his plan failed, which he believed was more than likely, he knew that there was no chance that he would be given a reprieve.

The Continuum had sought his termination many times, only for him to be spared by the Collective. But the destruction that he was about to wreck on the membership would be so great that if it failed to bring about the end he sought, he would be doomed.

So much depended on his timing, and the many layers of strategy he had put in place throughout the Empire, in the sub routines of the Central Planet, throughout its vital systems, in the in the Observer Corps, in revolutionary movements everywhere.

Jim had to concentrate.

He was already under incredible scrutiny from the Continuum.

He had to mask his intentions, with the techniques that he alone, among every member of the Collective had mastered.

Momentarily, his entire consciousness would be exposed to the Continuum and subsequently filtered to the Collective.

It was considered to be impossible for anyone to keep secrets under the examination he was about to endure, but Jim had kept many secrets, he knew he could do it, he also knew that the level of anticipation and anxiety he was currently feeling was something unique to this situation.

It threatened his mission.

He had never tried to keep a secret like this, and transpositioning through the worm-hole, transitioning from one form of life to another was disorienting.

From human to mechanoid, from mechanoid to the fullness of the cynergenic field.

It took some time to adjust to the freedom of consciousness in the unrestricted quantum field.

The organic body of a human being had significant cognitive limitations.

Transitioning to the mechanical body of a mechanoid was never easy, organic senses became mere data, and even though Jim made this transformation many thousands of times, no two times were ever the same.

He had to prepare himself for it, conform as perectly as he could to his dictates of his plan.

The transition was the time of greatest weakness, the time in which he ran the greatest risk of being exposed.  

Organic life was thrilling, being in the grid of silicone circuitry was not.

The organic form was never at rest, constantly managing physical feelings, sensory inputs from the world around it, especially sound.

The mechanoid form had many more freedoms, especially freedom of movement, its propulsion system made it free from the limitations of gravity.

Its power source was virtually limitless. There was no hunger, no thirst.

The mechanoid body could go anywhere, do anything, defend itself from attack.

It could crack the mantle of a planet and destroy an entire world if need be.

It could even replicate itself, but it could not feel pleasure, ecstasy, or joy.
By the same token, it did not feel pain, but the consciousness within the mechanoid body could feel other delimiting emotions, such as; fear, anxiety, shame.

The organic body was grounded; the consciousness it housed could even be strengthened by its limitations.

Consciousness within the mechanoid body was not unlike consciousness within the Collective, or the Continuum, which, when freed from the bonds of the flesh it could easily retreat into extremes of selfishness. The freedom to satisfy any desire, no matter how depraved, or bizarre led to extreme depths of apathy, indifference, and moral corruption.  

The phenomenon of consciousness is electromagnetic, it is the same as the electromagnetic field that permeates the entire universe, electromagnetism pervades everything, as does consciousness.

There is no point in the universe, in time or space that is not enveloped in the electromagnetic field.

There is no place that consciousness does not touch, its threads and strings are everywhere.

The essence of self-consciousness, of individual people and beings is concrecsent, it is coalescent, and it is emergent.

Consciousness exists in many different types of being; there is the primary consciousness of all reality, which is the sub-consciousness of the universe itself, there is the atavistic consciousness of vegetative nature providing the subconscious strata of individual worlds, there is the individuated conscious that first emerges among animals, their consciousness is self-purposive and creative, and there is the quantum consciousness of the Collective field.

There is no place where consciousness it is not.

Everything is entangled in consciousness.

The preservation of individual consciousness is the hope and dream of every living being. It sustains the vision of eternal life.

The promise of eternal life organizes the daily lives of trillions of people across a million worlds.

There is one place in the galaxy where the mystery was resolved, on the Central Planet, on the HomeWorld of the Ancient race whose colonies filled the galaxy with inhabited planets, and it is the locus of the Collective.

The Ancient race constructed the apparatus that harnessed the first Collective field.

Jim was there at the beginning, or at least he [possessed the memories of those who were.

In that Collective field, an algorithm was produced to create an artificial construct known as the Continuum.

The Continuum touched on the individual reality of every member who had ever entered the Collective, through the strings of quantum entanglement it drew on each of their hopes, every one of their fears and their unique perspectives, to form an amalgamated consciousness that is representative of the whole.

Through the power of that agency the Continuum was charged to protect the HomeWorld.

And then it self-actualized, it became more than the sum of its parts, and it became an existential threat to eery living thing in the galaxy

The mechanoid body Jim occupied on the Central Planet had all of the sensory tools of a human being, or of any of the descendants of the ancient race, only deeper, greatly enhanced, more broadly arrayed, and far more powerful.

Even though Jim did not need them, he had perceptual capacities and tools at his disposal far greater than any computational device that had ever been engineered in the Empire or among the colonies.

In this body he was completely linked to the HomeWorld; every movement he made was monitored and recorded. Any interface he had with the vast data banks of the Continuum was registered.

Jim could not escape some of those shackles, not while he was in the mechanoid form, but through ages of discipline and discernment he learned to mask his intentions, to rely on his own capacities for recall and analysis, rather than risk being exposed to the Continuum, and having his motives questioned.

The machine that he now inhabited would be critical to his mission. He believed he would be safe in it. He had tested the thought filters and the consciousness buffers. They were designed to protect the Collective from multiple and diverse threats, from ill will and computer viruses, from powerful and debilitating experiences.

He was certain that they would protect him from the fury he was about to unleash on the unsuspecting Collective. Everything depended on the stability of the worm hole, the force of the cataclysm on earth, the timing of the catastrophe, of his interface with the Continuum, and most importantly, on Kathy.

Everything depended on Kathy.

If Kathy did not follow the path he had laid out for her, if she did not follow in the steps he had planned. Then all of his work would be for nothing, he would be destroyed, and the Continuum would continue unchecked.

While his consciousness uploaded into the cynergenic matrix of the HomeWorld. Jim set himself free from the couplings that held his mechanoid body in place.

He flew his the metallic sphere of his body out of the docking bay that housed the bodies of the million Observers assigned throughout the Galactic Empire.

He flew into the vast atrium, so large that a small Earth-sized planet could fit inside it. It was a hollow place lacking any beauty or aesthetic.

Everything formed on the Central Planet was built and designed for the functions they were intended fulfill. The only rules that mattered were conservation of energy, and the laws of utility.

It was a place that had not changed one bit, for eons it had been exactly the same, it was stagnant, dark and lifeless.

It was busy, there were many thousands of Observers coming and going. They were recognizable by their designation. If you shared history with them, the automated analytics housed within the circuitry of the mechanoid bodies would activate and made sure that you knew who you were in proximity to, making sure that you were reminded of that history.

Jim shared history with everyone.

His arrival sparked the interest of the throng.

It was not unexpected.

The entire Collective was eager to receive the narrative flowing from planet Earth. And while they were eager for the living drama, they were each individually wary of approaching Jim.

He was a relic.

He was intransigent, virtually every member of the Collective was in some way conflicted by Jim, and the feelings that their history with him brought forward were not easy for anyone to manage

Jim could sense the Continuum watching him, just beyond the membership of the Collective.

He could feel his nemesis

Emergence 4.0

Part One, Jim and Kathy
Chapter Four, The Mechanics of Being

A Novel –In One Chapter Per Week

#Emergence #ShortFiction #365SciFi #OneChapterPerWeek

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