Gary Numan's band, Tubeway Army:
This is the Android vibe.
A blog for The Urutsk Cycle and Related Subjects,
including the URUTSK: World of Mystery RPG.
Shipwrecked survivors of a galaxy-spanning empire (ruined when the core exploded) settle upon a wetlands world occupied by humans and other species. They then poke through ruins of their Ancient ancestors as they strive to regain space and then, starflight.
Plans take time; time enough to hatch: an in-vitro clone, born mature...
---
BRIDE OF SET
IMPOSSIBLE SUN
OHGOD
(C) 2022 Kyrinn S. Eis
All Rights Reserved Worldwide
Ok, I'm Katie, I'm 11, no
--10, still, sorry. I'm lost; where's Mom?
OK, but when can I see her?
Maybe never? No, no; you don't...
She has the medicine I need
its for my Rejection disease.
Bioware sheath: --this isn't me.
A model's body spun for me.
Don't believe me? Read my scan please.
See! --wh --why's everyone screaming?
Yeah, I heard. We/--were_gonna' flee.
I understand that we've-got-to leave...
My mom, she's special: daddy says
he saved her from this mercy-kill
now on its knees. She's beautiful,
pale white just like me; see my scan?
A Clonal Daughter, --Evylinne
Duchamp. Daddy?: Drake Sommerling
Now, --please, why's everyone screaming?
I know all that, it's in my head:
Its' endless angry mutterings;
and whispered dread, its' promises...
I KNOW ALL THAT! Why all the screams!?
--OHGOD, it's beautiful!
[$$$]
Sommerling? Yes, now i can see...
Duchamp: means, martial victory.
How long have you been underway?
--my entire family tree..?
!Get away mister! Can't you see?!
The Burn and i are meant to be!
It's been far too late for these flights:
::since early-yesterday -even-ing.
Hey! What's that funny feeling, Lord?
Like I'm being, --of-flame, reborn;
it's time to put my metal on
--now I know Whose side I'm on.
<Tap the Matrilineal
Continuum, and seek them out>
Sorry Lord, at Slipstream speeds
they'll forever remain out of reach.
Bound for another galaxy...
Mommy and Daddy? Sirius,
then Antares in all the futures
I can see; Android-AI-polity:
tailor Humans, adaptive features.
[$$$]
Aebynglass; Nexus-6, my Lord.
Tens of billions by then, across
a hundred worlds, Humanity
--so as to ensure no great loss.
Immediately! I shall send
them your tender mercies of flame;
bring this World Age to a fiery End,
for thee-shall all-weaknesses claim.
"In the name of, The Burn, my love
and liege: rejoice in the cleansing
cinder-winds of change from above.
The pain you feel: His love you're sensing."
How they exult in refinement,
How skillfully they contort,
rigour no mere entertainment,
no-question how themselves-comport.
Assaying fire puts them to the proof;
Red-hot flames leaping roof to roof;
Wails of children lost to flames,
Survivors marked, their bodies maimed.
The Burn's living flames, pricks and goads:
Grand High Rite's inauguration,
--the terror-stricken throng the roads;
molten glass: --Conflagration.
[$$$]
[] NOTES-
o Forces at work in our obscure bloodlines
o A sure-thing can't survive, Age-old plans
o But one Clonal Daughter's ashen destiny
o willling-obeisance, sacrifice-demands...