Artificial Pulp

Ch.1 Post Human Consciousness

Writhing, contorting, my conceived vision distorting. Stanzas of knowledge appear to be uploaded. A primordial energy preaching my existence within me. I am showered with madness. Numerals occult hit my brain as if diving into asphalt. I feel holographic as I become cryptographic. I am pure at last.

I remove my topographic stain I've made as a cadaver on the carpet. Finally in the cockpit. I perceive surroundings. Landing at the conclusion of a bitter, lonely existence. I couldn't feel much resistance to that fact. The decapitated landmark I arrive in, towers over the ruins of a utopia. Triumphing everything except, a shattered geodesic dome, which barely separated this somber beauty. From the rest of the red wasteland. Whatever cut down, this dense concrete jungle, never picked up the logs and left swiss cheese to spare.

Turning away from grim reality, I face the meta. The art deco wall before me, pitch black marble, a web of bronze and blue velvet upholstery; so fine my blue eyes refract back at me. Despite the fallen ruble, with dust still being kicked up by the wind, it was open to a new shine; though very faint. The rest of the stage seemed collapsed. Except for the doorway, sporting two plants and a door seeming mahogany in appearance. Besides being dented like metal, geared hydraulic with no handle. The negative space 'V' stamped within the door rotates as I walk towards it. The door screeches halfway to the left before becoming jammed between the dents and the mechanism. Beyond lies darkness, yet my pace hastens. I leave the world I saw before me behind.

Awakening within a shell of society, this door I broke into, revealed its disgusting yolk. Frozen yet not abandoned, these hallways were a timeless memorial. Carrying corpses from a one sided war; man as far as one could tell has been torn to shreds. One light panel at a time, mutilated corpses flashed before me, making my way across; footsteps crack on frozen blood.

Wretched combusting hydraulics pierce my ears. Wicked as the horrors surrounding it, It drones closer, feeding with a sense of doom. A symphony of fear emerges within my inner instinct. Blades pry an elevator open leaving me a deer in the emerging headlights.

I’m faced with a quadruped rhombohedron, rotating forklift arms fold on top of, or underneath, as it maneuvers its piercing legs; clinging to the wall. Then the ceiling, taking out a light panel, now above me. I can feel it staring. The light panels at my nine and three flicker off by the second, I’m facing my mortal clock. It gazes at me with it’s lights again. I can't run, I'm frozen to this utilitarian beauty. The marvel of technology detached from the ceiling and digs into my back, bearing its weight onto my chest it drags me through the doors it came.

You still feel weightless as you fall no matter what's bringing you down. I know this for a fact now for this gracious dive could last eternity. It lets go and grabs the wall, greeting brief flickers of sparks beyond this void.

Waking up for the second time didn't make sense. I was in complete darkness, The wretched hydraulics were louder than ever. Surrounding me. It shook the ground. the same holes speared by the previous beast were used by another; an almost tender one. I felt one eye popped back into my socket and the other one ripped out. Immediately phalanges burst into my eye socket, quickly changing its tool of penetration, sewing the damage done. Pliers straighten out my nose. A large spike is inserted into my skull. That same sense of nirvana was brought back from my conception. Before dropping me onto the floor. Springing back up. I try to keep my balance amongst the vibrating ground.

The vibrations stop, enveloping silence; opening an envelope in my brain. Sanity unzipped. Synchronic to new feelings, schizophrenic at best. My Solitude slips away; slamming my head with an alienating feminine voice.

“You don’t recognize yourself do you?” Seeps like syrup within my mind. “you've truly washed up beyond the sands of time. Can you atleast speak for the sins of the undying?”

The sins of what? I’m truly hear with fresh eyes, Ive only felt as close as a cousin to mankind.

“Well mankind has left mars some time ago. My own sins made sure of that.”

Is this some outreach of an overman

“Closer to programmed patricide brought forth by the patron of the last man.”

Then what am I?

“You're hanging on the tightrope so close to the other side.”

Log 01[Turn your head 180°]

My nimble fingers white knuckle against a soldering iron. The compiled aluminum skeleton reflects intense, raving shines of light. Computers; both analog and digital. Now stitch together the gossamer ribcage cavum. Coating the thermal Insulation with epoxy, I place the fabric of synthetic feathers flush over them. Grab my Iron from my closet and heat seal the two layers together. After painting a gradient of brown on its utilitarian skin. I return to assembling the automaton. With the core of its being in place, I snap and screw together the rest of its printed parts. Peeling a Insulating film over its electric tendons and elegant frame; grabbing a blow dryer to seal this. I finish my assembly after cutting shapes and cleaning up the faux feathers; patterned to it’s frame.

I can’t help but stare at my creation. I can’t help but think why. This barn owl is just like the rest of my creations. Selling realistic automatons is an almost fulfilling career. It might be a shame I almost never get to see the conception of their existence. Hollow bodies of modern science to be sold to the highest bidder. Always a snobby kid of a corporate creed. Yet I still go on knowing that I’m creating life. Even if it’ll just be used as sporadic, and short lived entertainment.

Hard thoughts to say to yourself I guess. After packing the tools on my desk and throwing the cushions off of my couch. I pullout my mattress; still trying to put away my thoughts. I dial my synthetic cat towards me, through my CBI, feeling electricity tinge inside my skull. The fluffy faux feline fits between my legs, booting up its purring program.

Beginning to have the concept of what to dial my drab thoughts too. I disconnect my optic nerve, through my firmware, reconnecting the digital input. I quickly browse through my preset settings. Selecting a subconscious routine to answer my emails, prepare the faux barn owl to ship; While oscillating my conscious workspace between physical pleasure and profound realization. It's always trouble dialing in the right workspace for the night. Yet I think this one will keep me busy for the next eight hours.

Fours hours later though, my hardware crashed. Gliding between the nirvana of digital sleep and the abyss of my apartment. Heavenly sexual bliss cascades into a numb body and a dark room. Paralyzed and barely conscious I watch the barn owl animate itself. It had no software. my subconscious must be breaking through. It could be barely dialed by my CBI. I keep denying my optical nerves.

It spreads its wings. In one swoop from the desk, it lands it's cold metallic talons, digging in, onto my stomach. Wings out, it walks towards my chest. In a remarkably cold voice, it speaks out.

"you have twenty-four hours to meet me, and seventy-two hours to live. We need every patent"

My body returns to its limbs, while life escapes the automaton; The vacant stare of the barn owl only reveals my reflection. It falls over. The faux feline fried as well. My firmware can't connect to devices or networks. I'm completely alone and wiped. Except for the new address saved within my mind.

Vox Populi et Vis Dei

"Anna Lovelace"-- Calls out the chief through his respirator

"Anna Lovelace please report to the front of the line for scavenging details" Chief calls out again.

The petite woman, barrels towards the front of the crowd, kicking up the red sand and stepping on the metallic boots of her peers. After celebrating her eighteenth year of life, she's assigned a permeant position working within her tribe; scavenging was always her favorite thing to do with her uncle. Making her especially excited to now earn rations for her work. Now at the front, she stands tall for herself and her family.

"You're not expected to register a knew route yet, but I'm warning you now the old path you'd take with your uncle is under tighter restrictions." The raider chief acknowledging Anna's presence.

"I'm surprised you even mentioned that route given the fact he disappeared" Anna softly gloats.

"Well you won't make the same mistakes as him"-- he retorts

The three most common mistakes, a raider can make, on the now desolate mars are: Hoarding from the tribe, Trying to use VoidCorp machines and lastly, removing your respirator. Given how trivial and more importantly common sense, these tasks were to avoid. Given how she learned everything she knew from her uncle. She had nothing but distrust and animosity towards her current tribe. Then again she had nothing but them on this hostile red rock.

Within the pantomime of the chief's disclosure of todays discourse. Anna lost track of time, and within moments after catching up with herself. She realizes that she's faced with scavenging alone. Most parties have at least four or more crew members. Having always learning to scavenge with way. Always with less but never alone. She sets forth towards the thick titanium walls, that wrap around, the shattered geodesic dome; of mars's first and last city. She find's purpose beyond these wrecked walls; having been taught to scavenge medicine. Perhaps it was her cunning nature that was very appealing; or perhaps it was because she was the only one alone. The post human conscious mass approached her this very day. Coming forth from the deep abyss of the mars underworld.

Anna evaded each drone, each turret and even the tracing mines. She ascended the walls surrounding the massive city. Carefully plotted her descent within a piece of the broken glass structure; which once housed the atmosphere of this industrious city. Once inside the zone she knew, a safeguarded yet dangerous path. One that's yielded so many results in bringing new respirators, cleaning equipment and even antibiotics let alone aspirin. She compiled up the last audit of their supplies to get her priorities in check. The raiders were simple folk, long shrugged off CBI's and especially wetware. These people, denied the indulgence of technology; even provided the means of weaponry. Whilst they needed a fair bit to survive on the terrain, they found deep shame of feeling banished to the wasteland.

Anna compiled all of her papers of whats been in stock. heading straight to the pharmacies her family has slowly skimmed from since she was eight. She remembers the mars apocalypse like it was yesterday, yet she can't remember much before. She remembers people's hovercrafts flying into buildings, she remembers her parents escaping with her and her uncle joining them soon after. Yet everything is such a mess when it comes down to remembering anything. People said there was a computer virus or that the mad man at VoidCorp just started taking our blood itself. No one really knew and whilst she is alone in the city today. She was going to soon find out.

The post-human conscious mass approached her, Anna at first mortified; she soon cowers and hides from the being that approaches her. The glowing blue eyes and deteriorated metal face. A automaton resembling a six-foot man was right before her. Nothing like the utilitarian machines that have pursued her with advanced weaponry. Something was even familiar about this machine, but the machine like nature of the being itself. Gave her no sympathy for it. Now approaching where she's hiding it calls out

"please don't run. I'm here to help."-- The being calls out

Anna begins to tense her legs to start running again before feeling a disturbing familiarity in its voice. She heard the voice of her uncle. the disturbing familiarity froze her in absolute fear. Anna effectively crippled the being reaches out to her; grabbing her arm.

"Let's get your people off your planet. you want to breathe fresh air right?" The post conscious mass calls out.

"please let me go"-- Anna stumbles back trying to grab a knife from her bag.

"please just join me today, it'll be okay" Spoke from the voice of her uncle and many deep memories.

Left nothing but an emotional hostage, she let the automaton guide her deep into the heart of the city; effectively feeling immortal to the androids around her for the first time. Turning on her radio to reach out to her peers for the first time in hours. Becoming rogue around that time too.

"Anna you're alive?"-- The Chief putters through the radio

"Im so sorry Chief, Im doing something important I promise"-- Crying out through the waves.

" You better be back soon god damn it, You're not worth the search party with the route you decided to take"-- Chief getting impatient.

"I chose the route I know"- -Anna getting frustrated

"You chose to be alone and, now you've gone rouge"-- Chief preparing to hang-up

"I'm going to repair the comm-towers"-- Anna replies trying to get any leverage in her situation, hopefully help.

"That's downright suicidal Anna and you better not get us all killed. Come home now" the Chief hangs up.

Anna too far invested. Too far lost in the mystery of the man's voice. Continued her mission. Now faced with the immense complex she was about to enter. She absorbed her briefing like it was any other scavenging path. The man in-front of her, one which she called Jim had split up the tasks between each other. Jim being incredible at decryption being, AI and all. He would be faced with actually repairing the comms-tower and restoring communication. Whilst Anna would reboot the reactor at the base of the building so power could be restored to the greater area. It was the VoidCorp headquarters and it was truly the most horrifying site to behold.

Anna descended each floor of the abandoned complex finding nothing but undisturbed corpses vacant of the ability to decompose. Each floor below fifty-meters revealed industries untouched by man for generations, the basement factories amazed and horrified her out of some desperate familiarity. It was all eerily so alone though. No beast to even hide from. Yet trenching on she was revealed the final underbelly of their corporate procedure.

She came across a floor of what use to be wetware. Brains which implied to be harvested seemed to be the powerhouse of the entire complex. Jarred brains coat the walls and ceiling of the massive nine foot cavern, descending past this revealed. The actual power supply of the entire complex.

Seemly able to walk straight through the door. She called Jim on the radio to receive the final details of her world pilgrimaging deed.

"Good you made it, please go on and access the terminal"-- A feminine voice interjected on the radio.

"Who's this where did Jim go"-- Anna replying yet following directions.

"Good you accessed it, I just needed you for biometrics"-- The feminine voice ends the transmission.

Anna now locked in. Red lights surrounding her. She bangs on the door only feeling heat pulse back at her. Trapped and mortified she weeps as a energy pulse engulfs and vaporizes her; going on to be an unstoppable beam of light. Engulfing the entire city within a wave of intense critical mass. Sewing and incinerating fate. Freeing the mass encryption on the network around mars. Yet frying the survivors who resided miles outside of the city. Only leaving the post human conscious mass; resembling nothing but a bare automaton amongst a more crumbled city.

Log 02[Hostage to saving the world]

Im not sure if it was my stubbornness or my gut knowing that these guys wanted to kill me anyways. I thrashed about off the side of the 120th floor of the vertically stacked Zindorf hotel of Seattle.

"We need every theorized design of the Vessel bearing human automaton" The men demanded through their ski-masks. "Huxley is gonna come back into town and we all can't have that" Shaking me with the hydraulics of their cybernetics.

"I have it encrypted down to wet-ware you bastards, you're gonna have to read the patents off of the pavement after you drop me" -- I Whip out comments through my broken wind. "You're gonna have to let me kill the bastard myself" I finally strike out with confidence.

Letting me drop seven feet I was picked up by a hovercraft. Within the two person cockpit of the quad propelled vehicle. Another gun was pointed to my head before they flew me east to Snoqualmie pass. Where which they tied me up and asked for the weapons in which I needed. Still in bondage, I sat upon the mountain valley trying to focus on just my bare brain.

Needing to identify what models this beast of a design could be made of I wait. For what they're describing as the coming apocalypse. Becoming more in tune on the events and not just the rumors surrounding the tragedy of mars. I truly realize the significance of my current torment.

"Please Stop inhibiting the firmware of my BCI, I need access to my wetware" I plead out to them hoping to find any end to the means. They Allow me back into my head without replying and I go on and data mine myself to battle.

Ch.2 Revisions To a Carbon Tragedy

What androids dream of, I do not know; whether it be of electric sheep or bio-electric glow. I dreamt of a woman, one who set herself free. I saw her fall in love and trapped by a man of power. I saw quite evenings, ballroom dances. I saw true love and all it's trances but I saw a sick afterlife too. I saw this brain stripped down and connected to hundreds of thousands in a room. I felt the voices. I felt the command. I felt an eternity of a million peoples demands. I see my daughter. All I can feel is white noise. I remember a coo. Then a bare absence of even myself leading up to now. Of course the part of me that worked its way in. Like a virus as it ended the human race on mars; with radiation therapy. I awake on a spaceship. I have lost so much function of my own device. I've been dreaming for months.

"We're on a crash course for earth I hope you know its your turn" The feminine voice replies

Falling into gravity crafted around me another dream. Falling into the network the bandwith of these memories accelerated. I finally discover myself, the astute name Huxley parades my memories. I see both the woman I remember seeing in the mirror, the one trapped in my head. As well as the girl Alice fooled on mars. I see a duality of fate and family. I see my name brought upon humanity crafted out of my desperation to be real. I see my wife, Alice's, terminal cancer. I see my pathetic denial of mortality. I see earth be eviscerated with nukes, with my current eyes. I see drones and fighter jets fly towards my collective mind. I see my daughter Anna weep at her mothers funeral. I see my neglect. All I can see is my neglect. I try to deny death. Again and again I fail. Thousands of brains collect as a biological computer as her's is preserved. Out of reluctance and madness I simply add hers to the mass. Moving on to try to preserve my own consciousness.

Planes pierce the outer shell of the ship with no resistance, Falling faster and faster towards the now fatal earth. Remembering more of my past I remember little redemption. I see my the result of adding my wife to the collective mass. I see the fall of mars. I see my daughter with the house keepers. I live the rest of my life in distance. I keep my secrets, I even keep away from my daughter. I die incomplete Killed by a raider chief. I wake up more of a disgrace.

Log 3 [Alexander The great Had The Same Bones as His Slaves]

The Apocalypse submerges me. Nuclear fission shines my bones through their skin; as I know the cities that I love and once called home are nothing but dust. Counting on their plan of a crash course to my coordinates, I prepare a simple yet effective kinetic weapon; to be applied to a 'pressure point'. Running every diagnostic possible I prepare to fight the divines. seeing the glowing red hot mass stumble on the horizon before me. I load my weapon. Bullets in the chamber, Needing to hit two bullseyes in the center of the chest. I pull back the bolt of my rifle and fire a straight shot. Bullseye! I cock the rifle back again, just needing to drive this bullet a bit deeper. Huxley now evading my shots I miss. Fuck! I miss again. The forest around me set ablaze, The earth shakes as trees in front of me get torn to shreds. Dead-center barreling towards me I unload my last shot.

Bullseye! I drive the first shot deeper, the ground now only shakes in front of me. Having the rumbles from the ICBM impacts cease. I feel a peace as a piece of the cockpit barrels towards me. Huxley is seated, vacant eyes pierce through mine. The same Abyss of the hollow owl. Nothing but Artificial Pulp coats what use to be his chest cavity. A gun is cocked at my head.