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Strata 4 The Zoners (Meeting Strangers) | Book of Immersion V I | Sarnia de la Mare


 Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 4

The Zoners (Meeting Strangers)


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, the cover is all you have to show the secrets within. Humans understand that a person's demeanour and outward profile can reveal something of their intent. There is a sort of human telepathy that is not bourn of scientific facts. It is intrinsic, passed down through culture and evolution, a hidden and secretive code of social understanding.

But how would an android make sense of the tiny signals that humans pick up on? The millions of minute evolving syntax and expressions that create conscious and subconscious feelings and hunches. These are essential to humans but less easy to create or mimic in even advanced computerised systems. How do these assumptions translate across time and cultures? How do machines function successfully within complex human scenarios. Strangers are unpredictable, dangerous, and likely to be in control.

A deeper understanding of the unknown without evidence is the ability to immediately resonate with individuals without reason.. 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 *robo-dog and it went flying high up into the air. It fell to the ground with a metallic crash scattering its parts asunder and making mechanical screeching sounds that made people stare.


There was a general momentary hush as everyone realised Renyke should be avoided.

Maybeline climbed inside the leather coat to keep out of any ensuing danger.


The robo-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 near perfect dog. 


As Renyke walked on the dog remained at heel, obedient, quiet, and protective. They were now given room to move into the throng. No one made eye contact and as if by some telepathic communication, everyone shared a nervousness around the new stranger.


The dodgy-looking man offering bits and nibs reappeared and was running at Renyke's side.


'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 too, should you ever need one.'


Got drugs, got tools, all sorts.... survived like a pro all my life on the mean streets….  People like you need people like me. No one knows the zones like us *urchs.'


Renyke walked on ignoring his now irritating companion who was running, flanking left to right, talking, and panting all at once as he tried to keep up.


A child approached. Renyke's scanners showed him to be a human boy, around seven years old.


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


Renyke looked down and saw a large black hole where the boy's eye had been. The other eye was weepy and red. The boy’s face was scarred from historic deep-cut wounds and he appeared to be missing an arm.


Renyke had seen images of similar wounds from the *Russia-China wars. But they had ended many years before.


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


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


'Now *fucksyoff 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 a hushed all-knowing tone.


The street was lined with ramshackle stalls and shops. They were noisy and crowded with the bustling activities of theatrical looking people. Some had animals on leads or on their shoulders. Monkeys and parrots, the like of which Renyke had never come across in his massive data bass.

Most had tribal markings on their faces. Others wore decorated eyewear, styled spectacles, masks and headgear.


The attire seemed so impractical to Renyke who had always worn the same clothes and had aspired to a streamlined functionality. But he was rather enjoying his new coat.


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


Renyke engaged POS focusing on the cloth.


…*Pertriline: Brand name for a fabric made from plastics. Non-biodegradable. Colourfast. Banned in 2050. Problematic for any practical landfill solutions....


Then he queried the face coverings....


…It is thought likely that tribal face markings in the zones are used mostly to avoid face recognition from satellites and covert surveillance. Different factions, tribes and even ad hoc groups have adopted more uniform styles which signal gang and other connections. These signals change regularly to avoid detection and discovery. 


It is understood that the underground activities that connect tribes, gangs, and families, have adopted coded clothing and other paraphernalia. Information is unconfirmed….these are theoretical assumptions based on data stripped whenever possible from prisoners or members of subversive factions….


The woman with the cat stops Renyke in his tracks. Her cat stares at him making eye contact and edging forward. Renyke also stops.


'Hey, Mr. Come on man, you must need something? You want some *toggies? I swap the coat for a nice jacket I got me just yesterday.’


Renyke shook his head with one eye on the cat who was looking restless.


'You want some tits-n-ass maybe.....food? Man you look hungry in yo skinny moves.'


Renyke side stepped the woman and continued walking, not really sure what she meant. The dialect was a strange mix of unknown words and rhythmic intonation, almost songlike.


'A bank maybe, or a charge point?’ Shouted the woman as Renyke moved on.

He 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. The cat finally stopped staring.


'Yes, I need a bank,' Said Renyke.


'Come with me,' said the woman.



to be continued...

© Sarnia de la Mare 



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Strata 3 Flex and the Robo-Dog (Making Decisions) | Book of Immersion V I | Sarnia de la Mare


Welcome to Immersion You have reached strata 3

Flex and the Robo-Dog (Making Decisions)


Decisions are the cusp between reality and possibility. Decisive actions create a continuously evolving universe for sentient beings where fate can immobilise actions and defeat progress. The decision-makers hold power over themselves, and, more often than not, over others.


Androids programmed to learn can aid decision-making when dealing with complex data, intricate parameters, and variables that surpass human understanding.
Often they excel at making accurate choices within their defined boundaries. However, an android will not excel in addressing intangible
aspects of human decision-making. Ethical dilemmas, moral considerations, and other human factors that significantly influence our lives and shape society are neither considered nor understood by a machine.




Maybeline was sitting on Renyke's shoulder cleaning herself. Renyke collected bugs from the alley and analysed their chemical and biological structure.


There was a bag next to where he had woken, a large backpack, beside a long leather coat. Renyke took some time to look in the bag attempting to remember how he had arrived in the alley. Nothing seemed familiar.


'What are all these things?' he asked *POS.


These are standard-issue SAS munitions from the 21st century.....


It occurred to Renyke that he could interrogate POS for more information.


'Why am I here?

Where have I come from?'


There was a long pause before POS answered.


...I do not have access to that information. My software was set to launch when we arrived. There is no accessible historical data at my disposal...


Catching himself in a window reflection Renyke put on the dark glasses he had found in the pocket of the coat.


'We look pretty good Maybeline,' he remarked, surprised by his unfamiliar vanity.


Mabeline nestled into Renyke's neck as they left the relative safety of the alley and entered the foreboding street.


They were in the centre of a busy metropolis. There was a lot of activity with people shouting, bartering goods and moving quickly about the place. There were small groups of brightly dressed individuals congregating around stationary vehicles. Some were smoking pipes. Small hazy clouds hovered above them trapping the weak rays of the sun. The towering semi-derelict buildings created shadowy corners where small fires provided more light and warmth.


The vehicles appeared to be a mix of old-fashioned motorised cabins from transportation systems and helicopters. There were some long-legged hybrids; electric solar-engine mashups that looked like menacing metal insects.

Renyke's detectors showed the air comprised mostly of oxygen with low levels of other chemicals: chlorine, sulphur, silicone, fluorine polymers and plasticisers.


'Hey, dude from the *Brightside, you want some *nibs?'


A man hovered expectantly, somewhat close for comfort. He looked dishevelled but alert as he checked all directions avoiding eye contact with Renyke.


Renyke checked POS for 'nibs'.


......A drug used by nearly half the world's population that creates euphoria and doubles strength for a limited period. Overdose can cause temporary and permanent coma. Long-term effects; brain rot......


'How much?' asked Renyke, whose algorithm was set to absorb all information about humans.


'I can do you a deal' said the man, '50 *bits.... Or the Rat'.


Renyke checked POS for *bits.


.....Bits: street talk for gold, silver, uranium and other metal nuggets used in the black and grey economy without government authority....


'I have no bits,' said Renyke.


'Hahahahahaha'.........' see you in hell brother!' shouted the man as he danced away on long legs and a demeanour that seemed at odds with his situation.


In the *midcasts, happiness came with security and expectation. digital and technological lives were formatted for predictability and reliability. The present and the future were reliable and predictable. Although Renyke was struggling to remember the details of his purpose here,, he knew very well that this place was different.


A large flamboyant man in a fur coat whistled.


'Hey girly, you want some dirty action? I'll take that rodent off your hands if you need some sexy time.'


A warning comes from POS.


.....Danger! Immediate! Ground Level!....


A *robo-dog was barking loudly at Maybeline who was now snarling and making a shrieking noise.


For a fraction of a second Renyke analysed all the variables and consequences of his next actions.


The options were endless. POS had created a fleeting map of the most probable scenarios and outcomes that sprawled a multidimensional time map like a mathematical cobweb. Of course, Renyke, with his advanced artificial intelligence capabilities, was able to analyse in the tiniest fraction of time.


He could immobilise the robo-dog, tame it and use it, sell it, break it up, separate its useful component parts, analyse its database for information, absorb its operating system, or, he could simply ignore it.


Renyke began to ponder his skill set remembering that he was an excellent chess player. Single decisions about actions that he could make foresaw a million possibilities. Theoretically, this allowed for finely tuned activities and performance with very little or zero harm caused to his previous owners. Indeed, this forward-thinking ability had marked machines as superior in operation to humans who were narrow thinkers and only able to make selfish and immediate decisions based on emotional desires without reference to consequences.


The robo-dog opened its mouth and bit Renyke's ankle.



to be continued...

© 2025 Sarnia de la Mare

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