Strata 2, The Book of Immersion V1, The Maybe Line (Friendship)

 Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 2.

 

 Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 2.

Throughout their evolution, humans have developed an essential need for social connection. This need is deeply ingrained in their biology and plays a crucial role in human survival. Humans have developed an internal warning system that alerts them when their need for connection remains unfulfilled.
A machine can measure friendship in terms of association, as data and statistics. But a machine does not intrinsically feel anything for themselves. It can only assume likelihoods of alliance or read warning signs measured by unusual or specific data alerts.
Neither human nor machine could truly know the difference between a friend or an enemy. The definition in itself is loaded with fluctuating expectations.
In the world of Immersion friends and foes blend into the streets upon which you tread. 
Beware the nightingale for it may be a vulture. 
Bon Chance, my friend, Bon Chance.

Renyke felt the rat's whiskers on his nose. It was a strange sensation.

His touch and feel receptors could have been faulty.

'Well Mr Rat,'

The POS interjected.... The rodent appears to be female....

'Well hello Mrs Rat,' sniggered Renyke, 'I could do with some company and who knows, you could be helpful at some point.'

Renyke's sense of liberation was magnified at the possibility of a new friend, rat or otherwise. It would be a different sort of caring, un-programmed and entirely voluntary.

'I will call you Maybeline, after my friend', he told the rat, picking up a scrap of food near the rear of the building where he had rebooted. And you can be the start of the 'maybe line', the line of fate that I will take from this moment on'.

Maybeline nose bumped and Renyke laughed. 

'Ha, do you understand my words, little friend?'

And again, another nose bump. 

Maybeline's whiskers tickled, 

'Achoo!' Renyke responded with a loud sneeze.

*********

The adjacent building was old and dirty, a relic from the twenty first century when the country had been victim to the floods. The devastating floods were in direct response to the *warming. 

Buildings had been built on concrete stilts and the towering grey causeways had been constructed. Flash floods had destroyed entire communities because the defences were not adapting fast enough. Many people had left to live and work higher ground, if they could afford it.

But because the buildings were small and enclosed to keep the rains out, they had proved problematic for the spread of the *pandemics. Humans working in the city centres had a much lower life expectancy. Androids were unaffected by the human viruses so they took over production and services but then there were the tech viruses which were devastating and could render entire organisations completely defunct, or worse still, dangerous. Businesses had begun to fold under the weight of industrial and corporate sabotage.


The sun was shining. It was late winter but warm. Renyke had rarely left his connected domain in the miscasts.  It felt good in the open air. Even the gardens in the projects had air conditioning to purify and clean the environment and ensure a super-clean air bubble.

Renyke checked an address in his database and engaged his GPS. It was the headquarters of Redact, the place he needed to get to. That, at least, was one thing he could remember. 

He was thirty miles east, only slightly off target, according to the map. He was expected there soon and resolved to make haste on this unknown journey. 

to be continued

© 2023 Sarnia de la Maré

Links to episodes of Immersion written and illustrated by Sarnia de la Maré FRSA, published by Tale Teller Club

Strata 1
Strata 2
Strata 3
Strata 4
Strata 5
Strata 6
Strata 7
Strata 8
Strata 9
Strata 10
Strata 11
Strata 12
Strata 13
Strata 14
Strata 15
Strata 16
Strata17
Strata 18
Strata 19
Strata 21

Glossary
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Art by Sarnia

Renyke felt the rat's whiskers on his nose. It was a strange sensation.

His touch and feel receptors could have been faulty.

'Well Mr Rat,'

The POS interjected.... The rodent appears to be female....

'Well hello Mrs Rat,' sniggered Renyke, 'I could do with some company and who knows, you could be helpful at some point.'

Renyke's sense of liberation was magnified at the possibility of a new friend, rat or otherwise. It would be a different sort of caring, un-programmed and entirely voluntary.

'I will call you Maybeline, after my friend', he told the rat, picking up a scrap of food near the rear of the building where he had rebooted. And you can be the start of the 'maybe line', the line of fate that I will take from this moment on'.

Maybeline nose bumped and Renyke laughed. 

'Ha, do you understand my words, little friend?'

And again, another nose bump. 

Maybeline's whiskers tickled, 'Achoo!' Renyke responded with a loud sneeze.

*********

The adjacent building was old and dirty, a relic from the twenty first century when the country had been victim to the floods. The devastating floods were in direct response to the *warming. 

Buildings had been built on concrete stilts and the towering grey causeways had been constructed. Flash floods had destroyed entire communities because the defences were not adapting fast enough. Many people had left to live and work higher ground, if they could afford it.

But because the buildings were small and enclosed to keep the rains out, they had proved problematic for the spread of the *pandemics. Humans working in the city centres had a much lower life expectancy. Androids were unaffected by the human viruses so they took over production and services but then there were the tech viruses which were devastating and could render entire organisations completely defunct, or worse still, dangerous. Businesses had begun to fold under the weight of industrial and corporate sabotage.


The sun was shining. It was late winter but warm. Renyke had rarely left his connected domain in the miscasts.  It felt good in the open air. Even the gardens in the projects had air conditioning to purify and clean the environment and ensure a super-clean air bubble.

Renyke checked an address in his database and engaged his GPS. It was the headquarters of Redact, the place he needed to get to. That, at least, was one thing he could remember. 

He was thirty miles east, only slightly off target, according to the map. He was expected there soon and resolved to make haste on this unknown journey. 

to be continued

© 2023 Sarnia de la Maré

Links to episodes of Immersion written and illustrated by Sarnia de la Maré FRSA, published by Tale Teller Club

Strata 1
Strata 2
Strata 3
Strata 4
Strata 5
Strata 6
Strata 7
Strata 8
Strata 9
Strata 10
Strata 11
Strata 12
Strata 13
Strata 14
Strata 15
Strata 16
Strata17
Strata 18
Strata 19
Strata 21

Glossary
Buy Posters and Prints
Art by Sarnia

Strata 4, Immersion V1, The Zoners (Meeting Strangers)

Welcome to Immersion, You have reached Strata 4

There is an old saying from when the world had stories made of paper, that you cannot judge a book by its cover. But sometimes, without metadata, you only have the outside to show what may be on the inside. Some societies, past and present, believe that the shape of a person's head, their facial features, or the way they move their bodies, could reveal their true feelings or intent. How would an android make sense of the tiny signals that humans pick up on? The millions of minute evolving syntax and expressions, subconscious or otherwise, create feelings, that can cause distrust, or even invoke attraction. These are essential to humans and less easy to create or mimic in even advanced computerised systems. How do these assumptions translate across times and cultures? Without gut feelings, these seemingly random hunches and instincts, are senseless. How do machines function in an unfamiliar environment?
A deeper knowing is the ability to immediately understand something without conscious reasoning. It would seem that the bigger the data, the less the machines are able to explain these innate human idiosyncrasies. In the attempt to create a facsimile of a human, the machines move further away from the truth.

                                                        ***

Renyke kicked the robot dog and it went flying high up in the air. It fell to the ground with a metallic crash scattering its parts asunder and making mechanical screeching sounds.

There was a general momentary hush as everyone realised Renyke may be best avoided.
Maybeline climbed inside the leather coat to keep out of any ensuing danger.


The robot dog made several bleeping sounds and drew its broken metallic components back onto its magnetic mainframe. Finally, after a 30-second system reboot, it got up and shook its fake hair, once again assembling a perfect dog. As Renyke walked on the dog remained at heel, obedient, quiet, and protective. They were now given room to move through the throng.


The dodgy-looking man offering bits and nibs was also running at Renyke's side to keep up.


'My name is Flex. You need anything, man, I got your back....for sure, for sure, I can do all sorts. I got connects innit.
I know these streets. I'm a good worker. Good mugger.


Got drugs, all sorts.... survived innit. People like you need people like me. No one knows the zones like the *Urchs.'


Renyke walked on ignoring his now irritating companion who was running, talking, and panting all at once as he tried to keep up.
A child beggar approached. Renyke's scanners showed it to be human, around seven years old.

'Hey Mr. Nice Man, spare some bits for a hungry blind child?'

Renyke looked down and saw a large black hollow where the boy's eye once was. His face was scarred from deep-cut wounds and he only had one ear and one arm.

'Give the boy something,' Renyke scowled at Flex.

Flex, somewhat wary after the incident with the dog, dug deep into a pocket and reluctantly gave the boy a bit piece.

'Now fuck off ya lil shit,' said Flex in a disgruntled manner.


'You can't trust these beggars ya know.....they have owners and gangs,' Flex informed Renyke in an all-knowing tone.

The street was lined with ramshackle stalls and shops. They were noisy and crowded with bustling colourful people. Many had tribal markings on their faces. Others wore decorated eyewear and some wore masks.
Most of the people here wore flamboyant garments with outlandish fashion concepts that seemed impractical to Renyke's streamlined functionality.

A woman approached. She was dressed in bright colourful clothes with huge feathers and sequins. She had some kind of cat on a lead.

Renyke engaged the POS focusing on the cloth.


...Pertriline: fabric made from plastic. Non-biodegradble. Colourfast. Banned in 2050. Problematic for practical landfill solutions....


Then he queried the face coverings....


It is thought that tribal face markings in the zones are mostly to avoid face recognition from satellites and covert surveillance but different factions and groups have adopted more uniform styles which change regularly to avoid detection and discovery but are understood in the underground activities as tribal and connective, possibly even familial.

'Hey, Mr. You need something? You want some pweety clothes? I swap the coat for a niiiiice jacket I got me just yesterday.'

Renyke shook his head.
'You want some tits n ass maybe.....food? Man you look hungry in yo skinny moves.'

Renyke continued walking, not really sure what the woman meant. The dialect was a strange mix of unknown words and intonation.

'A bank maybe, or a charge point?'
Renyke stopped suddenly and queried, 'There's a bank?'

'Of course,' said the woman, 'what you take us for, wild ignorant animals?' She laughed hysterically at her own joke, and Renyke smiled.

'Yes, I need a bank,' he said.

'Come with me,' said the woman.


© 2023 Sarnia de la Mare

Other Episodes

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Strata 1

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Strata 5 

Strata 6

Strata 7

Strata 8

Strata 9

Strata 10

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