Welcome to Immersion; you have reached Strata 13The Fight (Hormones)
Feelings of 'amped up' anxiety are necessary for survival. Often the hormone rushes in such extreme situations will lead to a human's increased ability to concentrate, feelings of immortality, and a distraction from pain. Blood vessels contract to direct more blood to major
muscle groups, increasing strength for up to an hour after any such stressful event.
The power of a machine, an android, an artificial intelligence program, etc., is not linked to hormone releases. The ability to increase strength could be programmed into robots as an extra storage source when needs must, but such resources are prescriptive and controlled through innate programming. Most humans are unaware of their own strengths and may be rarely tested to call upon them, unlike a machine whose reserve banks are permanently at the ready.
Humans under the influence of long-term stress, in situations of domestic abuse, for example, will not function correctly and may die prematurely.
Renyke slowly opened the window as if to speak to the robber. They stare intently at each other, both calm.
'What you doing, man? Ya *fucksyfool,' Flex whispers angrily from the rear of the vehicle. 'Windows are bulletproof!’
At the same time, Shabra opened her window, smiling innocently at the robber.
'OK, OK,' sure, I got bits, *G-bits too; it is all yours, Mr., *plenty-ful are my pockets; hold your rockets... just let me get them out of my coat, yeah?’
The robber looked nervous; he was barely an adult.
'Don't try anything,' he said, stepping forward and bringing the gun closer to Shabra's face.
Flex, realising that he better act fast or risk overseeing a massacre, quietly opened the window hatch on the roof, muttering under his breath about not hanging out with strangers again.
'These dopes gonna get me killed!' he said.
Renyke's extension arm suddenly engaged, adding two feet or more to his normal reach, then, in a hundredth of a second, he grabbed the threatening assailant by the throat. With a sharp squeeze of his Adam's apple, the victim fell to the ground in complete silence, with an instantaneously broken neck.
His bulging eyes popped from his skull as he hit the ground, rolling into the gutter.
............threat to your right is exterminated............remaining threat to life ...left and front of carriage….
*POS was guiding the scenario with a running commentary and an endless stream of situation mapping, statistics, and diagrams.
Simultaneously, Shabra, still wearing a rye smile, held up one hand in surrender. The assailant lapsed his concentration, focusing on his friend, who had disappeared from the other side of the vehicle. The man with the AK-47 at the front did the same.
'Where is he, where is he?' shouted Shabra's target.
His friend edged an inch to check and saw a wet glistening eye.
Almost in unison, Shabra and Flex regained control, taking on one robber each.
Shabra, barely flinching and with great dexterity, cut the robber's throat like the wild animal she hunted for lunch. His blood gushed out, hitting the vehicle and Shabra's face and hand.
'Ah, not the car, man! Blood takes a damned long time to clean off,' she said as she closed the window, wiping the knife on her trousers.
'This is some mucky night', she mused, nonchalantly, as Flex was performing his expected duty atop the vehicle.
Renyke closed the window after retracting his arm, also aware that things seemed under control.
The power of a machine, an android, an artificial intelligence program, etc., is not linked to hormone releases. The ability to increase strength could be programmed into robots as an extra storage source when needs must, but such resources are prescriptive and controlled through innate programming. Most humans are unaware of their own strengths and may be rarely tested to call upon them, unlike a machine whose reserve banks are permanently at the ready.
Humans under the influence of long-term stress, in situations of domestic abuse, for example, will not function correctly and may die prematurely.
Renyke slowly opened the window as if to speak to the robber. They stare intently at each other, both calm.
'What you doing, man? Ya *fucksyfool,' Flex whispers angrily from the rear of the vehicle. 'Windows are bulletproof!’
At the same time, Shabra opened her window, smiling innocently at the robber.
'OK, OK,' sure, I got bits, *G-bits too; it is all yours, Mr., *plenty-ful are my pockets; hold your rockets... just let me get them out of my coat, yeah?’
The robber looked nervous; he was barely an adult.
'Don't try anything,' he said, stepping forward and bringing the gun closer to Shabra's face.
Flex, realising that he better act fast or risk overseeing a massacre, quietly opened the window hatch on the roof, muttering under his breath about not hanging out with strangers again.
'These dopes gonna get me killed!' he said.
Renyke's extension arm suddenly engaged, adding two feet or more to his normal reach, then, in a hundredth of a second, he grabbed the threatening assailant by the throat. With a sharp squeeze of his Adam's apple, the victim fell to the ground in complete silence, with an instantaneously broken neck.
His bulging eyes popped from his skull as he hit the ground, rolling into the gutter.
............threat to your right is exterminated............remaining threat to life ...left and front of carriage….
*POS was guiding the scenario with a running commentary and an endless stream of situation mapping, statistics, and diagrams.
Simultaneously, Shabra, still wearing a rye smile, held up one hand in surrender. The assailant lapsed his concentration, focusing on his friend, who had disappeared from the other side of the vehicle. The man with the AK-47 at the front did the same.
'Where is he, where is he?' shouted Shabra's target.
His friend edged an inch to check and saw a wet glistening eye.
Almost in unison, Shabra and Flex regained control, taking on one robber each.
Shabra, barely flinching and with great dexterity, cut the robber's throat like the wild animal she hunted for lunch. His blood gushed out, hitting the vehicle and Shabra's face and hand.
'Ah, not the car, man! Blood takes a damned long time to clean off,' she said as she closed the window, wiping the knife on her trousers.
'This is some mucky night', she mused, nonchalantly, as Flex was performing his expected duty atop the vehicle.
Renyke closed the window after retracting his arm, also aware that things seemed under control.
.... assailant left is exterminated…..
*POS continued the running commentary.
....Assailant front, in line of fire of the human named Flex…
Flex was shouting threats and whoops from the top of the vehicle. His torso now through the tank-like hatch. He had engaged his own mental autopilot buttons and retrieved his favourite hand pistol from one of the many pockets in his long coat.
He fired three bullets for good measure, penetrating the robber in front of the car.
'Take that *Bastardo,’ Flex shouted as the first bullet penetrated the centre of the man's forehead.
The robber dropped the AK47, taking the other two of Flex’s shots into his bouncing body on the ground.
The hail of bullets caused screaming, shouting, and general mayhem as people on the street ducked and scrambled for cover.
'Dum arse men, a poorly manned ambush indeedy! Speedy but greedy,' said Shabra as she shined the blade with a spit and polish, grimacing at the assailant's blood, then smiling at her rhyming skills.
She wasted no time after checking everything was in order, immediately engaging the car and running over one of the muggers, whose guts now covered her wheels.
'Argh, not again!
Flex was hooting and screaming from the roof.
'Take that, you *muddafinks!
'Get down,' demanded Shabra. 'We are not supposed to be drawing attention to ourselves.’
Flex apologised like a naughty child and continued,
'but that was fun. You two are good. Erm, but what's with the weird arm, Renyke man?’
Shabra looked at Flex in the mirror and said, 'Well, we've only seen a few of his skills so far. He's a droid after all.’
'Of course, said Flex. I do forget. He seems so, you know…
'Hmmmmm, he really does,' agrees Shabra.
'I was designed as a housekeeper; the arm extensions were a *Metacoms feature to assist in the stacking of shelves and other household duties. I am also able to clear blocked drainage pipes and rescue stranded animals from trees.' Renyke rambled with pride.
'Great,' said Shabra, laughing with Flex and bringing the vehicle to a halt. 'So you won't mind washing the car windows then.'
to be continued
*POS continued the running commentary.
....Assailant front, in line of fire of the human named Flex…
Flex was shouting threats and whoops from the top of the vehicle. His torso now through the tank-like hatch. He had engaged his own mental autopilot buttons and retrieved his favourite hand pistol from one of the many pockets in his long coat.
He fired three bullets for good measure, penetrating the robber in front of the car.
'Take that *Bastardo,’ Flex shouted as the first bullet penetrated the centre of the man's forehead.
The robber dropped the AK47, taking the other two of Flex’s shots into his bouncing body on the ground.
The hail of bullets caused screaming, shouting, and general mayhem as people on the street ducked and scrambled for cover.
'Dum arse men, a poorly manned ambush indeedy! Speedy but greedy,' said Shabra as she shined the blade with a spit and polish, grimacing at the assailant's blood, then smiling at her rhyming skills.
She wasted no time after checking everything was in order, immediately engaging the car and running over one of the muggers, whose guts now covered her wheels.
'Argh, not again!
Flex was hooting and screaming from the roof.
'Take that, you *muddafinks!
'Get down,' demanded Shabra. 'We are not supposed to be drawing attention to ourselves.’
Flex apologised like a naughty child and continued,
'but that was fun. You two are good. Erm, but what's with the weird arm, Renyke man?’
Shabra looked at Flex in the mirror and said, 'Well, we've only seen a few of his skills so far. He's a droid after all.’
'Of course, said Flex. I do forget. He seems so, you know…
'Hmmmmm, he really does,' agrees Shabra.
'I was designed as a housekeeper; the arm extensions were a *Metacoms feature to assist in the stacking of shelves and other household duties. I am also able to clear blocked drainage pipes and rescue stranded animals from trees.' Renyke rambled with pride.
'Great,' said Shabra, laughing with Flex and bringing the vehicle to a halt. 'So you won't mind washing the car windows then.'
to be continued