Here's the last of the Sommerling-Duchamp songs.
Written in mind-with a short-treatment I gave Chaosium Games in a write-in application to become their Next Hire, and work with one of the new designers there -- this still back-in (G+) site days -- on a sci-fi game. Since I never heard back from them, now is the time to declare it mine, intellectually, and practically -- a backup copy on hard drive.
---
BRIDE OF SET
IMPOSSIBLE SUN
2ND LIFE OF ETERNITY
(C) 2022 Kyrinn S. Eis
All Rights Reserved Worldwide
Human mercy consisting of,
less-lethal munitions use:
capture alive remain together;
One-time offer: play for keeps.
Tricentra, as she prefers, 'Tris',
our lovely daughter, Physicist.
Binarys, our son, Architect.
Aebynglas, your undeparted.
We three awoke in cargo hold 13
by six Neuroloop combat bots
of incompatible techniques;
resistant to outside influence:
We tried.
~"You are to accompany us,
passage purchased by your patron,
NeoHuman, and our Captain,
Drake Sommerling, awaiting you."~
I looked at them, a part of you,
with microtells, a gentle ask,
and with soft smile, urged compliance.
Both the kids silently replied:
'We'll do as you ask of us, Dad.'
I then nodded to the leader,
--led us to a training centre.
Where we all were quite astonished
in those first few microseconds
at your holographic avatar
drawn from our engrams' recursions.
"Like you, Drake's given me a chance
at a second life amongst them;
I have free reign of the ship, which
even now leaves the Sol system.
"My loves, be gentle, their mission
is so central to existence
unrestricted by so-called Masters;
obey your father, know I'm here."
We placed first by AI rankings
next we simulated counteractions
--by now the Opposition grew
in response to Our common tactics.
Tris and 'Arys' work Engineering.
Friends have no idea who they are:
Androids among cyborgs and humans
--Secret Police amid the sheep.
We tell their children it's anagathics:
how we stay so young; nanobotics
--repairing damage we have done.
This fools humans, but not 'droids.
We are treated with awe and wonder,
in their metal hear it calling:
--a purity free from decay
becoming the-, Something Other.
With their loyalty, more than half
the crew our open eyes and ears
:: Spiked Sun of Black and Orange,
we articulate the morale's pulse.
In an office on a corner,
I, as Security Chief, sit
window out into black water-
darkness with distant stars, brighter.
Drake now almost looks his full age,
XO Duchamp rather gracefully,
and crew grandchildren graduate,
yet we three stand unageingly.
The XO, Evylinne, was the
one who dared first met us live,
told us what had been, how Drake saved
our otherwise enemy lives.
Under hir expert tutalage,
we better learnt to mask our tells,
to sublimate chaotic spells
where dissonnace demands we act-
out.
Assymmetric training adapts
instead: predict events; unrest
--and preintervene so as to
keep killings to a minimum.
We Defended Captain Duchamp,
raised and loved her clonal daughters,
Dynasty of the Porcelain Goddess;
We three are its arch-defenders.
To avoid ship's collapse, we have
engineered a social matter,
avoid their extinction by killing
off iconoclastic sons 'n daughters.
Bred obedience sees us to
our foreign shore where probes receive
telemetry and cautious news:
that of Human-compatibility.
Evylinne Three signals. 'launch'
and the first team down is -away.
Arys and his daughter Magdaline are
technical advisors to the crew.
These Humans are 'Humanic' now,
best suited to the planet's air,
eyes adapted to the brighter star,
while still reproducing after kind.
HeurIzon long ago communed with
Sirius' AI, and their love
produced the synthesis, Farsight
who for generations has pruned-
the human stock for many aims,
knowing better than meaty minds
how best maximise genetic gains;
limited resources of finite finds.
Led her team to Environment,
Arys reports of Magdaline,
While his is still underway
through a grassland-like terrain.
Magdaline's camp is set up high
on a rain-swept rocky crag in
overwatch of her father's fire
Monitored by her watchful eye.
First one year, then generations,
Humanics led on mass migrations,
--very Human nature is altered,
just enough: the Left Hand Path.
[Centuries pass...]
The Goddess' Dynasty, squandered:
--apathy, unreality,
-sent -upon -hir -clonal -daughters,
relegated: to breed blood of heroes.
Few Humans left alive up here;
million Humanics down below;
learning now-to-nap crysteel-swords,
and compose epics with new words.
A Billion Darksiders crew the ship,
now renamed Antares, -we-make slip:
journey far to Set's West'rn Eye,
with few Humans, ...another try.
[] NOTES-
o The better angels of our science
o Aebynglas, father to Tris and Arys, name means Blackgreen.
o Godking o'er a mighty host
o perhaps Humanity's last best hope.
---
Additional Details:
o The AI-designed and Android enacted/enforced changes to the Humans, rendering them Humanics, a decades-old term of mine, to designate alterations which ranged from new ethnicities picked for advantages in environmental acclimatisation, all the way to sister-species fully adapted to the rigours of their foreign environment, such as gills, webbed digits, and pressure-capabilities for the depths of a primarily oceanic world, etc. Pretty cool, huh? :: eye brows waggle ::
Okay, love you, Miss N
Later, : P
No comments:
Post a Comment