Strata 17 Swimming (Pleasure and Pain) | Book of Immersion V I | Sarnia de la Mare

Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 17

Swimming (Pleasure and Pain)

Pain and pleasure are sensory and emotional experiences generated by the human brain. These experiences are driven by chemicals, situations, and lived experiences, all of which reinforce these mammalian phenomena that originate from nearly identical internal processes rooted deeply in biology. Endorphins can both block pain and produce euphoria, activating and stimulating areas of the brain such as the limbic system and the prefrontal cortex—regions that also respond to music and passionate romantic experiences. The mammalian central nervous system includes specialised neurons for pleasant touch, which transmit pleasurable or ecstatic sensations along the spine. In contrast, machines do not possess these intricate systems and therefore do not experience pain when threatened or physically harmed. For the same reason, they cannot feel the pleasure of touch. At best, they can simulate such responses, but any such imitation would exist solely for a human's benefit, not for the machine itself.

Flex removed his clothes and left them in an untidy pile on the grass.

Renyke, still somewhat unstable on his feet, followed suit.

'Come on, don't be scared,' shouted Flex from the water, 'I'll teach you how to swim.'

The blue water was cold and yet exhilarating. It rippled over Renyke's skin like a moving shroud. He stared at his hands floating on the surface of this strange organic compound. The water stroked him like a lover and he remembered Shabra.

'This is how she feels....' Renyke thought, holding his closed eyes toward the sun.

Such warmth and pleasure he had never felt before. His skin was eager for more.

Suddenly, Flex ducked him under the water, and after what seemed the longest time, Renyke finally got the hang of staying afloat by copying Flex’s tread water techniques.

There seemed a lot to learn all at once.

A few panicked moments nearing the bottom of the fjord had caused a fear so deep, so frightening, and so alien to anything that Renyke had known since his manufacture. 

'If you want to swim under the water,' Flex explained panting, 'take three slow deep breaths before thrusting downwards. Then, slowly let air out as you swim deeper…for equilibrium. 

It's important to stay calm. Panic wastes air. You will find you can hold your breath longer under water than above it. 

If your ears hurt, you went too deep. Oh and remember to come up for air in case you pass out and die.’

Flex laughed at his own joke, and Renyke smiled. Maybe he was starting to understand his friend’s humour at last, though death by drowning did not sound fun at all.

Prepared with this alarming but good advice, Renyke disappeared to play with fishes and check for mermaids, recalling his seemingly prophetic dreams. 

Maybeline and Flex played tag amongst the reeds and the warm sun rays hit the river with a blanket of human promise.

'Oi!' Flex shouted with urgency, exiting the water at speed.

Renyke watched his friends muscular naked body as it made haste through the reeds. He wondered why he never noticed the beauty of human skin and the intricate interplay of muscle and sinew as it danced over bones.

Renyke and Maybeline watched the commotion on the grass.

'Pleases don't hurt me, pleases don't hurt little Nigel.'

A small, pale, and strangely formed man, around three feet tall, wriggled his feet violently as Flex held him upside down from a considerable height.

'What were you doing with our stuff?' demanded Flex. 'I saw you Mr. *Freak. Don't be taking me for no and *fucksyfool.'

'Look, look, I bring the new clothes for the guests of honour....look look.'

Nigel pointed between squeals to two piles of clean folded clothes and towels on the grass. The dirty clothes and shoes had been folded into two similar stacks.

'Nigel just *welcummin da new guest to da *tunnels, promise.'

'Hmmmmmm,' said Flex suspiciously, lowering Nigel to the ground very slowly in case the odd little man tried to run off.

Renyke was already putting on a crisp pink shirt and clean pants. 

'They feel nice, you should put yours on,' said Renyke, 'yours stink after all, Flex. Ha!’

Flex was slightly taken aback, then smiled at his friend’s new droll skills.

'We bin *epsceting da misters, very long time. Please, dress quick-quick, we got foodstuffs for the misters,' explained Nigel beckoning his now well dressed guests to an opening in a huge tree trunk that had been obscured by lush foliage.

Renyke was eager for adventure and fearless of the consequences. Flex raised an eyebrow. They needed food, perhaps it was worth the detour.

to be continued...

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Strata 12, Immersion V1, Shabra and the Basement People (Emotions)

Strata 12

Shabra and the Basement People

(Emotions)

The Book of Immersion

Volume 1

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© 2024 Sarnia de lamaré Tale Teller Club Publishing

I searched the globe for want of you,

A friend to call my own,

My space,

A tribe,

Was this the place?

Was I really home?

And there you stood

A tree of hope

Arms outstretched

To envelope

My ravaged body

Savaged mind

This soul so lost 

And you so kind.

Most humans progress through life along a path created by the society and culture they are part of. Existentialism emphasises individual existence, freedom, and choice. Androids and machines are essentialists, focusing on the inherent nature or essence of things and the assumption in fundamental unchanging truths. 

Emotions are vital to help humans learn and make decisions. Feelings are experienced constantly from birth to death. A newborn baby is emotionally involved with its mother as soon as it understands she is a valuable source of food and comfort. The emotional attachment is instantaneous and intuitive.

Human emotions are essential to consistency, being part of a social group, and staying safe.

Androids have successfully been programmed with 'visceral-like' responses but these are mimicked, in essence, they are faked. Androids are trained to respond to their owners' emotions as they are not able to understand emotions themselves through their lens. Such models are trained to respond to human physical cues such as odours, pupil changes, vocal idiosyncrasies etc, and to reciprocate. We could call this 'fake empathy'.

Automatic robotic vehicles do not fear the crash, they simply know that a collision is not desirable for the ongoing success of the mission in hand.

Welcome to Immersion, You Have Reached Strata 12.

'We should get some infon on any preds,' Shabra said, thinking hard about the best time of night to get to the edge, which was renowned for tribal and gang flashpoints

Renyke asked the POS to translate.

It would seem that Shabra is gathering helpful information to aid our journey

Renyke was uncertain what to do. This feeling was becoming all too familiar and quite at odds with his hitherto programmed assuredness.

'You coming or what?' Shabra asks from outside the car, leading the way to a set of stairs that led down into a noisy basement.

The robodog wagged its tail and sat importantly on the roof of the vehicle looking around and growling.

Shabra knocked on a large door and a camera was activated above them. They were being scanned.

The door opened suddenly and a large man with a long beard frisked them before allowing them entry.

Renyke, not used to any sort of frisking in his past life, was sensing increasing anxiety. 

The POS was idle.

'Welcome brother,' the guard said to Flex. 'Are you well?'

'Fine, just fine, my friend,' Flex answered, 'We continue unabated to live another day. Vilarev!' 

Both men laughed convivially whilst Renyke wondered what had amused them.

They enter a meeting place, some kind of bar. It is thick with smoke, the smell of nibs, sweat, and the streets. 

A woman approaches chanting poetry with her arms outstretched. 

'The sun shines bright when you let in the light, welcome, my sister of the night.' There is more convivial laughter.

She embraces Shabra and they exchange warm greetings. Excited to make new acquaintances the woman beckons the group to sit at a table.

'Ah, come, come my friends. I have a perfect place for you to sit, and please, be my guests at the bar.

The woman beckons a member of staff. 'Let's have liquor.' she says, 'bring my best for my new friends.'

Renyke asks the POS for details about the venue, the location and the owner but it makes little sense, stuttering and breaking up.

.......data, unavailable..... scrambled, information 

'How come these places aren't mapped?' Renyke asked Shabra. 

'Mr Renyke, you ask too many questions. 'Hiding is surviving.'

'Yes,' interjected Flex, 'and we move, we move often. The key to freedom is movement.

Nothing is permanent. Only your lungs and your heart. Only your breath and when that's not permanent, you're dead and you're ready for the metamorph.

'And we know not where that will take us for certain.'

Renyke checks the POS with an improving signal.

.....Urchs believe in various spiritual concepts but little has been documented. Oral traditions and faith seem to be passed from parents to children. I will attempt to decipher the information at my disposal.

It would appear that they believe in the existence of dissatisfied or pained ghost-like entities from the future. 

Urchs believe that death is not the end, merely a manifest alteration, referred to as the third life. This third life is fiercely protected with love because hate manifested in individuals will be carried to the next stage.

They also believe that hate is so powerful that it can control what the yet-unborn will do in the future. Hate becomes a circular energy that rotates between past present and future, forging an eternal and devastating cycle of ruin across several dimensions of existence. The dead are responsible for the living, the living are responsible for the future born. To honour this mantra, enlightenment and love are the only tools required to ensure human success.

.....Urchs also believe that taking drugs or mind-altering ingested compounds will help them understand what is 'real real' and that the stresses of daily existence mask these realities and render them misunderstood. Urchs believe that getting 'high' enables them a greater understanding of truth, and even an ability to meet the entities or ghosts of the future.

'We shouldn't stay here too long, and you shouldn't get high,' said Renyke, looking at Shabra who was drinking the free liquor.

'You are so uptight Mr Renyke.' Shabra winks.

There is a brief conversation between a man and Shabra that Renyke cannot understand.

The POS has lost signal so Renyke turns to Flex.

'What is this dialect?' he asks.

'Ah, that is zone speak, with some colour changes for the Urchs. We have our own code see.'

Shabra rises, 'Let's Go! I think there is some trouble around tonight.'

Outside a small urch child sits on the bonnet of the car.

'Can I come too?' the child asks excitedly.

'No man, This is grown-up stuff. Come see me tomorrow, now fucksyoff.'

The child jumps off the bonnet, hugs Flex, and runs away

There is a flurry of drug and weapon traders who are hustling for sales.

Finally, they are all in the car. There is a sense of trepidation as they drive in silence to the underpass through a thinning crowd. The child appears again on the bonnet, facing forward and singing with a fist raised.

'No sweat,' says Flex, 'we will get him off the other side. He does no harm, annoying is all.' 

Suddenly there is an almighty bang and the child on the bonnet is shot. Its guts are all over the windscreen, blood drips down the glass and the crowd scarpers.

Everyone on the street is screaming.

The POS engages

.....99% likelihood of robbery, ambush, death. This is a red alert! You must take action! Repeat, red alert!

There is a man in front of the car pointing an AK47 at Shabra's head.

Two other men flank the vehicle and bang rhythmically on the windows.

'Bastardos gang aint getting my vehicular', shouts Shabra.

to be continued...

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