sarnia de la mare

Sarnia de la Mare FRSA

Artist • Composer • Educator

Sarnia is a multidisciplinary artist and founder of Tale Teller Club . Their immersive work blends art, sound, and story—exploring identity, transformation, and the beauty of otherness.

As a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts and founder of the Sarnia de la MarΓ© Academy of Arts, they empower creatives to think radically and create fearlessly, whilst seeking truth.


Showing posts with label Strata 14. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Strata 14. Show all posts

Jun 22, 2025

Strata 14 The Journey to the Edge (Fear of Death) The Book of Immersion by Sarnia de la Mare

🧠 As Renyke confronts his growing awareness of mortality, the journey to “the edge” becomes more than a route—it becomes a reckoning. Exploring the human fear of death, slavery, and the unknown, this chapter asks: what does it mean to risk everything when you were built to feel nothing?


Welcome to Immersion, You have reached strata 14 

The Journey to the Edge (Fear of Death) 




Fear is the result of perceived danger or threat. It is peculiar to sentient beings, including humans and animals. Fear is an intensely unpleasant emotion. Fear can be felt so deeply by humans that it has catastrophic physical and emotional effects.

The human brain decides in milliseconds to defend, attack or flee at the point of fear.


Long-term fear has slower responses but is not necessarily well-measured, as assessing true risk is extremely subjective. Humans feel fear differently depending on age, upbringing, social conditions, and external manipulations such as propaganda and education.



Symptoms of fear in humans can manifest as palpitations, sweating, nausea, dizziness, panting, urination and defecation.


Ultimately, fear is propelled by ideas of harm and death. Notwithstanding the surge of adrenaline which can be thrilling and even erotic, fear is not something most humans crave. However, adventure and uncertainty certainly are. The fantasy of fear through films and other media has long been explored and enjoyed by humans as a form of entertainment.


Machines cannot feel fear. Machines can only fail in their programmed purpose with neither opinion nor disappointment. Machines will have no innate emotional association with the concept of death. They will however connect value and understanding to the fact that, if they cease to exist, so will their purpose.




Flex was whooping and laughing.


'Well, that was fun,' he shouted gleefully.


'It was dangerous,’ warned Renyke, 'it could have easily ended in death for us. It would not be beneficial for any of us to die at this point in our association.’


‘You worry so, brother. Me n the Shabz, we got all sides covered. It’s is called teamwork, teamwork is an advantage. 'Sides, them Bastardos only got weapons, no brains, no game plan. Always got a plan, me n the Shabz.’ 


Renyke felt the pounding inside his ribcage subside at last. He wondered about this sudden camaraderie, it wasn’t quite making sense.


But something else was amiss. He was about to ask *POS some questions but Shabra was singing loudly.


'That's the pleasure Mr. Renyke!


Ain't no burn without the fire.'


Flex joined in.

'Feel the rise in your thighs, brother.’ 

 

The excitement of another near death experience finally settled as Shabra continued along a straight road that ran parallel to a waterway.


Renyke took the moment and checked POS for information about fear, something he had heard about of course. 


He had been programmed to avoid instilling fear in humans at all costs. All androids were designed to improve human lives. It was their duty as androids to facilitate and give pleasure, to entertain, to make human life more manageable with seamless day-to-day interactions that would not cause emotional or physical harm. 


The human existence in the *midcasts was sold on this idea of emotional harmony, a gentle shallow undulation of life, a steady equilibrium where the extremes of real human suffering were a thing of the past.


Of course, there were droids who played emotionally charged games, war games and the like. But even they were programmed to allow humans to win in the end and to be careful that humans were not emotionally troubled in the execution of pastimes. No human should be, or could be, disempowered or overpowered by a droid. At least, this was the case in the midcasts.


Renyke had heard of establishments frequented by addicts of extreme fear and other seemingly outlandish emotions. Customers could attend sessions with torturous activities on offer. But such places had been banned and eradicated in the midcasts, well before his creation.


POS was inactive, an increasingly annoying situation for Renyke whose confusion seemed to be growing in this strange environment. The flashes of disorientation were becoming longer and more regular as POS became more inaccessible.


'We only have an hour before sun up,' said Shabra. 'It's *timeplenty to get to the edge.'


He observed the unknown surroundings and quizzed Flex. It felt odd to be replacing POS with this human he barely knew.


‘This waterway is called *Pirate Stream,’ explained Flex. ‘It is one of the main entrances by water and there are trade drop off points for miles. If man needs a thing…..you go to a drop off, see what’s cumin in. You get some cool booty from the pirates, but you don’t ask questions. Pirates hate questions.’


There were lights and small boats bobbing along, some were anchored.


‘So these boats, who owns them?’ Asked Renyke, who was not particularly informed about boats and their purpose other than those of historic importance like the ones in great wars of *Alltime.


'Pirates, cutthroat *crimgangs. These are the trade boats, and different gangs use different parts of the river. It's no place for a loney. But if you are in a gang you get respected. The gangs got their own peace deals, own rules to get along.’


'Are they smuggling?'


Flex laughs.....'Well, there ain't no government rules here, no borders like you mean brother. You can’t smuggle exactly, not without a border nor a rule. Traders bring the stuff, food, tools, and equipment, to sell for the markets. Or drugs. Then there are the slaves.'


'People?' asked Renyke. 


'Yes, people and escaped droids, robots.'


'What sort of people?' asks Renyke, surprised at Flex's answers.


'People who can't fight for themselves. People who prefer being owned than being free.

They find that they're fed and watered and it's a safer option than being on the zone streets. Most owners feed and house slaves at least. Some are born into slavery, they know nothing else.'


Renyke thought for a moment. Strange abstract thoughts. Visions, memories, and the future. Pictures he had never seen before. Colours, sounds, not real but in his head. Then, something odd happened, he felt a shudder, a sensation that began on his neck and travelled like a snake down his spine.


'Yes, that's right. I was a slave. And it was reasonable. I had a very good life. But I was tied, I couldn't leave, yet I had no wish to leave.' Renyke explains and realises that these concepts had never arisen before whilst he was tied to the midcast house. 


He had never considered himself a slave. 


'So how did you get away?' Asks Flex 


'Yes, my question also'.......said Shabra

'How did you get away?'


Renyke was unsure about how much information to give so he skirted around it a little.


He lowered his head. Maybeline ran up to his shoulder and nestled into his neck. 


'They were going to dismantle you, and you wanted to live. It happens, you are not alone,' said Flex.


'Things are a little....blurry,' said Renyke. I am working through my memory banks. Some things are missing. My POS is still searching.'


'So you fancy an adventure?' asks Shabra.


Renyke looked quizzically at Shabra and asks, 'What do you mean?'


'This is the adventure brother, are you enjoying it?' asks Flex grabbing Renyke’s shoulder with a reassuring hand.


Renyke thinks for a moment and answers.


'It is a little bit risky perhaps. Somewhat unpredictable, I would say. But yes, it's preferable and more entertaining than house duties, cleaning floors etc. Although, I rather enjoyed managing the accounts.'


'I'd go for the unknown adventure any time,' says Flex. 'Besides Mr. Renyke. Now you've got me on side. I'll get you to *Redact. Don't you worry about a thing, I bin meaning to check out those sistas for a while.'


'There goes that feeling again.....' mumbles Renyke.


'What's that you *mumbachumba, Mr. Renyke? Asks Shabra.


'Nothing important, just random thoughts,' answers Renyke, making a mental note to check POS about feelings of 'excitement' later on.


Shabra pulls up to a grass verge. Birds are singing and dawn approaches as the night cycle comes to its end.

 

'So, here we are. This is the edge,’ Shabra informs them, as she exits the vehicle. Flex and Renyke follow suit.

Renyke begins to remove his coat as Flex gets some provisions from the back of the vehicle.


The robo-dog leaps off the roof of Shabra’s Wheels and waits expectantly.


'Mr. Renyke,' laughs Shabra, 'I'm not going to take your coat. You keep it, because I tell you something, you look great in it and it'll be too big for me anyways. Besides, twas a fun night, filled with fright. I will keep the dog though, a temporary mama. Pick him up on the way back.’


Flex interjects, ‘Dog is a hindrance for the next leg brother…’


Renyke pats the dog’s head and transfers a set of data instructions. It jumps through the open door into Shabra’s passenger seat and waits.


Renyke smiles, although he doesn't want to leave Shabra. He bows his head low. 


‘Thank you, Shabra, I will be eternally at your service.’


'I'll tell you what Mr. Renyke on your way back. You make sure you get a message to me on the *websynet and I will come and pick you up and I'll take you back to wherever it is you go.’ 


'But I may not come back,' said Renyke. 


'I get about these parts, future is a wide guess at best.' Shabra winks and Renyke blushes.


'A blushing droid? What kinda copy are you......?' says Shabra, getting back into her vehicle and returning to the *zones.


Flex and Renyke are at the edge of a small hamlet. Makeshift buildings made of shipwrecks and driftwood line the river, some more sophisticated than others.


Flex looks around and holds a finger to the wind? 


'What are you doing?' Renyke asks.


'Checking the wind speed of course. There's a boat down there, see it, the little one with the sail.’


If we take the water, we're going to cut out some nasty terrain."


Renyke checks POS but it is down.


'But what about pirates? Surely that would be most foolhardy?'


'You are such a *wordysmith,' says Flex. 'The land route is tough for ten miles or so, tribes and gangs and animals too. If we take the boat we can look less out of place.'


‘But you said the pirates were dangerous!’


‘Did I say that? I only said they were cutthroats, keep your hair on brother.’


Flex smiled, ‘Let’s steal a boat.’


to be continued...

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