Immersion Chapter 14 The Journey to the Edge (Fear of Death)

Welcome to Immersion, You have reached strata 14

Fear is an intensely unpleasant emotion (often felt physically by humans) in response to perceiving or recognizing danger or threat. Fear is peculiar to sentient beings; humans and some animals.

The human brain decides in milliseconds to defend, attack or flee at the point of fear.
Long-term fear has slower responses but is not necessarily well-measured as assessing true risk is extremely subjective. Humans feel fear differently depending on age, upbringing, social conditions and external manipulation such as propaganda and education.

Symptoms of fear in humans can manifest as palpitations, sweating, nausea, dizziness, panting, urination and defecation.

Ultimately, fear is propelled by ideas of harm and death. Notwithstanding the surge of adrenaline which can be thrilling and even erotic, fear is not something most humans crave whilst adventure and uncertainty certainly is. The fantasy of fear through films and other media has long been explored and enjoyed by humans as a form of entertainment.

Machines cannot feel fear. Machines can only fail in their programmed purpose with neither opinion nor disappointment. Machines will have no concept of death for themselves unless they are told. They will however understand that if they cease to exist, so will their purpose.

Flex was whooping and laughing.

'Well, that was fun,' he remarked with glee.

'It was dangerous.' warned Renyke, 'it could have easily gone the other way.'

Renyke felt the pounding inside his ribcage subside at last.

But something was amiss. He was about to ask the POS some questions but Shabra was singing loudly.

'That's the pleasure Mr. Renyke!

'Aint no burn without the fire.'

Flex joined in.
'Get the rise in your thighs, brother,' 

The mood finally settled as Shabra continued along a straight road that ran parallel to a waterway.

Renyke took the moment and check the POS for information about fear, something he had heard about of course. He had been programmed to avoid instilling fear in humans at all costs. All androids were designed to improve human lives. It was their duty as androids to facilitate and give pleasure, to entertain, to make human life more manageable with seamless day to day interactions that would not cause emotional or physical harm. The human existence in the Midcasts was sold on this idea of emotional harmony, a gentle shallow undulation of life, a steady equilibrium where the extremes of human suffering were a thing of the past.

Of course, there were droids who played emotionally charged games, wargames and suchlike. But even they were programmed to allow humans to win in the end and to be careful that humans were not emotionally troubled in the execution of pastimes.  No human should be, or could be, disempowered or overpowered by a droid. At least, this was the case in the Midcasts.

Renyke had heard of establishments frequented by addicts of extreme fear and other outlandish emotions. Customers could attend sessions with torturous activities on offer. But such places had been banned and eradicated in the Midcasts, well before his creation.

The POS was inactive, an increasingly annoying situation for Renyke whose confusion seemed to be growing in this strange environment.

He observed the unknown surroundings. 

The waterway had been used as a trading canal for several years overseen by pirates. There were lights and boats but little noise other than wildlife and the trickling and rippling of gentle waves.

'We only have an hour before sun up,' says Shabra. 'It's *timeplenty to get to the *edge.' 

'What's happening here with these boats?' Renyke asked Flex.

'Pirates, cutthroat *crimgangs. They are trade boats, imports mostly, different gangs use different parts of the river. It's no place for a *loney. 


'Are they smuggling?'

Flex laughs.....'Well there aint no rules here, no borders like you mean brother.

Traders bring stuff, food, tools, equipment, to sell for the markets. Then there are the slaves.'

'People?' asked Renick. 

'Yes people and untied droids, robots.'

'What sort of people?' asks Renyke, surprised at Flex's answers.

'People who can't fight for themselves. People who prefer to be owned than free.
They find that they're fed and watered and it's safer than being on the streets. Most owners feed and house slaves at least. Some are born into slavery, they know nothing else.'

'Yes, that's right. I was a slave. And it was reasonable. I had a very good life. But I was tied, I couldn't leave, yet I had no wish to leave.' Renyke explains and realises that these concepts had never arisen before whilst he was tied to the midcast houses. He had never considered himself a slave. 

'So how did you get away?' Asks Flex 

'Yes, my question also'.......said Shabra
'How did you get away?'

Renyke is unsure about how much information to give so he skirted around it a little.

He lowers his head. Maybeline runs up to his shoulder and nestles into his neck.

'They were going to dismantle you, and you wanted to live. It happens, you are not alone,' said Flex.

'Things are a little....blurry,' said Renyke. I am working through my memory banks. Some things are missing. My POS is still searching.'

'So you fancy an adventure?' asks Shabra.

Renyke looks quizzically, 'What do you mean?'

'This is an adventure, are you enjoying it?' asks Flex.

Renyke thinks for a moment and answers, 

'It is a little bit risky perhaps. Somewhat unpredictable I would say. But yes, it's preferable and more entertaining than house duties, cleaning floors etc. Although, I rather enjoyed managing the accounts.'

'I'd go for the unknown adventure any time,' says Flex. 'Besides Mr. Renick. Now you've got me on side. I'll get you to Redact. Don't you worry about a thing, I bin meaning to check out those sistas for a while.'

'There goes that feeling again.....' mumbles Renyke.

'What's that you *mumbachumba, Mr. Renyke? Asks Shabra.

'Nothing important, just random thoughts,' answers Renyke, making a mental note to check the POS about feelings of 'excitement' later on.

Shabra pulled up to park. Birds are singing and dawn approaches as the night cycle comes to its end.

'So, here we are. This is the *edge.' Shabra informs them as she exits the vehicle. Flex and Renyke follow suit.

Renyke begins to remove his coat as Flex gets some provisions from the back of the vehicle.

'Mr. Renyke,' laughs Shabra, 'I'm not going to take your coat. You keep it, because I tell you something, you look great at it and it'll be too big for me anyways. Besides, twas a fun night, filled with fright.'

Renyke smiles, although he doesn't want to leave Shabra. He bows his head low. '

Thank you, Shabra, I will be eternally at your service."

'I'll tell you what Mr. Renyke on your way back. You make sure you get a message to me on the *websynet and I will come and pick you up and I'll take you back to wherever it is you go. 

'But I may not come back,' said Renyke. 

'I get about these parts, future is a wide guess at best.' Shabra winks and Renyke blushes.

'A blushing droid? What kinda copy are you......?' says Shabra, getting back into her vehicle and returning to the zones.


Flex and Renyke are at the edge of a small hamlet. Makeshift buildings made of shipwrecks and driftwood line the river, some more sophisticated than others.

Flex looks around. and holds a finger to the wind? 

'What are you doing?' Renyke asks.


'Checking the wind speed. There's a boat down there, see it, the little one with the sail.'
If we take the water, we're going to cut out some nasty terrain."

Renyke checks the POS but it is down.


'But what about pirates? Surely that would be most foolhardy?'

'You are such a *wordysmith,' says Flex. 'The land route is tough for ten miles or so, tribes and gangs and animals too. If we take the boat we can look less threatening, like a pair of nomads is all.'



to be continued.....

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Splashes of Joy: The Enchanting World of Children's Watercolor Illustrations by Tale Teller Club Publishing

Splashes of Joy: The Enchanting World of Children's Watercolor Illustrations

Introduction: Children's literature is a magical realm where imagination knows no bounds. At the heart of this enchanting world lie the whimsical strokes and vibrant hues of watercolor illustrations. A medium that dances between the realms of fantasy and reality, watercolor brings stories to life with its translucent charm and ethereal beauty.

The Charm of Watercolor: Watercolor is no ordinary paint; it's a storyteller's best friend. Its gentle translucency allows artists to create dreamlike scenes that capture the essence of childhood wonder. The fluid nature of watercolor lends itself to a soft, organic flow, perfect for expressing the boundless energy and curiosity of young minds.

Techniques that Spark Creativity: One of the enchanting aspects of watercolor is its versatility. Artists can experiment with various techniques to achieve different effects. Wet-on-wet creates soft blends and dreamy backgrounds, while wet-on-dry allows for precise details. Layering adds depth, and the delicate balance of water and pigment unlocks a world of possibilities. From creating realistic depictions to fantastical landscapes, watercolor provides a canvas for boundless creativity.

Masters of the Craft: Countless illustrators have made their mark using watercolor to weave visual narratives for children. Take, for instance, the timeless works of Beatrix Potter, whose delicate watercolor depictions of Peter Rabbit and friends have charmed generations. More contemporary artists like Oliver Jeffers and Quentin Blake continue to captivate young readers with their distinctive watercolor styles, proving that the allure of this medium stands the test of time. 

Our favourite contemporary book illustrator is iServalan, known for her gentle and adorable facial features of children and her quirky fun animals as featured in our new releases for 2024.

Behind the Scenes: The Artistic Process: Ever wondered about the magic behind the pages of a children's book? The process of creating watercolor illustrations involves a delicate dance between artist and medium. Illustrators carefully plan their compositions, choosing colors that evoke emotion and convey the story's mood. The spontaneous nature of watercolor adds an element of surprise to the creative process, making each stroke an adventure.

Themes that Speak to the Heart: Watercolor illustrations often explore themes that resonate with children—nature, friendship, adventure, and the magic of the everyday. The fluidity of watercolor allows artists to breathe life into characters and settings, making them relatable and endearing. These illustrations become windows into worlds where imagination knows no limits.

Inspirational Adventures on the Pages: From the misadventures of curious animals to the exploration of fantastical realms, watercolor illustrations serve as the bridge between words and a child's vivid imagination. The pages of children's books become vibrant landscapes where every brushstroke is a step into a world of discovery.

A Call to Creativity: For parents, educators, and aspiring artists, watercolor provides an accessible and joyful avenue for creative expression. Encourage the little ones to dip their brushes into the palette of possibilities. Whether it's a rainy day project or a sunny afternoon exploration, let the magic of watercolor inspire the next generation of storytellers and dreamers.

Conclusion: Children's watercolor illustrations are more than strokes on paper; they are portals to enchanting worlds where joy and imagination thrive. As we turn the pages of these illustrated tales, we are reminded that the magic of childhood is forever encapsulated in the mesmerizing hues of watercolor—a timeless celebration of the artistry that makes children's literature truly extraordinary.

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Strata 7, Book of Immersion V1, Jarome and the Scritters, (Trade and Barter)

Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 7

Humans have developed uniqueness from animals through a process of cognitive evolution.
They are exceptional cultural learners and can read situations. These skills have enabled them to develop complex trading tools. They rely heavily on these skills to create abstract cerebral and linguistic representations when placing themselves in various environments.

The cultural and socio-political environment in which humans have evolved has led them to acquire the cognitive skills, particularly mathematical, to support a sophisticated disposition and capacity for reciprocal cooperation and conceptual ideas of property and exchange value. Humans are savvy, humans broker deals.

Outside there was an optimistic sun and the people bussied around the market unaware of any of the commotion that had occurred in the bank.

The POS informed Renyke that he had lost negligible battery power and there was no damage to his mechanical structures.

The robodog came towards Renyke and the female guide's cat leapt onto her shoulders.

Maybeline returned to Renyke's pocket for a nap.

'You got my Bits?' asked the woman

'Go to Hell!' said Renyke, counting the contents of the steal.

'We already in Hell Soldier Man,' cackled the woman who resigned herself to not getting paid and ran into the crowds, as lithe as the cat

Back on the main street Flex approached, smiling and jaunty. Renyke felt reassured to see him.

'I need a vehicle Flex, something to get me to where I am going,' said Renyke.

'Yes, yes, yes Mr. Leather Man, where you going is where I'm going. Let's find a veee-hicle. Jerome, he is the car man, he got cars, and bikes and scoots..... and copters, and airships so they say.'

'Take me to Jerome,' said Renyke.

****

Flex took Renyke into a disused concrete building as the robodog curled up and waited outside.

There are the echoes of voices, activity and motor engines being revved from another part of the building. There is a smell of fuel and mumbled communications. Somewhere too there is music.

Flex beckoned Renyke to Jerome's office, a ramshackle room filled with books. More books than Renyke had ever seen. Books were no longer used in most homes or schools and the paper shortages after the warmings had meant that they were no longer being produced. Paper had become heavily taxed and there were also problems with scritters.

Scritters were large crawling insects that had been made in a laboratory by the Russian military.

They looked deformed with big insect heads and metal body parts. At birth scritters are born with a soft back and they look for protection from any material that offers a hard shell. Because of the huge landfill areas the rubbish had provided the perfect materials for protection, plastics and metals mostly. During the Russia China wars scritters had been used to carry tiny incendiary divides on their backs as they could be trained easily and were not affected by the nerve gases. But after the wars, the scritters had bred like wildfire, devouring paper and trees and nesting in book spines where the glue offered a perfect cocoon for pupae. Whole libraries had been mutilated by them. They were a scourge on the planet and another reason so many houses were built on stilts in the Midcast Projects. The more paper they ate, the more they reproduced. Books and paper matter that had not been digitally copied had been devastated and lost forever.

'A car you say?' asked Jerome. 'I got plenty, but the fuel....we got no fuel. We are working on some alternatives, but all prototypes so far. They cut off our fuel after the riots. And the food supplies. I have been missing gummies, I loved those.'

Renyke nodded as Jerome continued....

'Transport is a big problem. You'll be better off walking my friend, if you can get through the tunnels. But there are booby traps all around the perimeters here in the zones.'

Renyke checks the POS for details but the tunnels are unchartered. The POS seemed to be struggling with connection and was operating intermittently.

'I have a hybrid cart,' continued Jerome. 'It runs on solar but only for about 3 hours per full charge if you do under 40km. And if it is a cloudy day, an hour. I can let you take it for 3000 G-bits. It won't get off the ground without jet fuel but it can drive on flat ground well enough. It doesn't hold the road well, but if you are a good driver, it won't be an issue.'

'Can you drive?' Renyke asked Flex.

Flex laughed... 'Of course I can.'

A scritter crawls across the floor and Jerome stamps on it. A black tar oozes from under his foot.

Jerome sees Renyke might be changing his mind about the deal.

'I will take TELL You got some TELL?"

The POS gets a signal......

...TELL: abbreviation of Tellurium, found in copper ore. Used in mobile phones, especially older versions where it was added to other metals improving their strength and hardness and reducing corrosion. Rare due to the demise of traditional copper mines.

Renyke begins to feel confused about how to get the vehicle and asks the POS for advice.

I am not programmed to have opinions, Renyke. I do not have access to data about the vehicle or the seller. But Redact is within walking distance.

Renyke looks at Flex and then at Jerome. A scritter is crawling up his boot and he throws it off with a kick. He feels a rising panic and a thumping in his chest which he does not recognise.

Finally, Renyke says, 'I will walk.'


To be continued
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Strata 5, Immersion V1, Renyke Goes to The Bank (Memories and Experiences)

Strata 5, Immersion V1, Renyke Goes to The Bank (Memories and Experiences)

Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 5 

To function correctly, humans depend almost entirely upon memories. Memory is an integral part of human cognition allowing individuals to recall and draw upon past events to frame their understanding of the present. Memory also gives individuals a paradigm through which they make sense of the present and the future whilst simultaneously offering the security of a past where experiences and lessons were learned.

A machine that remembers too little will not be able to do anything that requires connecting past experiences to new ones. Many droids are prone to catastrophic forgetting or over learning both of which can cause gross malfunction.

                                                             **************

Renyke attempted a face-recog on the woman but the makeup or tattoo caused a data malfunction. Flex, the one with probable knowledge about trusting her, had disappeared amongst the crowd.

After a lingering interlude for summing up dangers but with no logical conclusion, Renyke followed his guide, with some trepidation.

There were all kinds of traders in an open market trading live animals, electronic devices, even people selling workers by the hour for anything from labouring to singing and sexual services.

They arrived at a unit with barricades and metal shutters. It was constructed from an old underground train carriage, probably from the twenty-first century.


'Here we go,' the woman said.

'That's 50 *G-bits for getting you here Mr.'

'I have to get some money first,' said Renyke
'Plus, I don't know how to get the money. What do I need, I have no identification or paperwork.'

'You don't need ID here Mr. This is the *hiddens zone, the *Urchs got no ID. No ID, no problem.'

'Well. how do I get money?' asked Renyke, now confused about accessing anything that may be stored in his POS, and still dubious about sharing his true identity.'

The woman laughed.
'Ya gotta put sometin' up my friend.

'Like my coat?' asked Renyke.

'Na, not in the bank! Your software, course, or hardware, or files, whatever.....just plug in, give some data, get some g-bits innit. They take apps, software, POS, they'll even take your whole damned brain.....

Day to Day Data..... is their wayta.....
.....hahahahaha.' The woman cackled.

Renyke pondered the likelihood of a successful transaction in the bank and nodded.

The woman bashed on the metal door and a hatch opened.

Dark peering eyes checked Renyke and his companion up and down.

'Not the dog', said a loud booming voice after tentatively opening a heavily armoured door.

Inside was well guarded by large-framed characters who looked menacing and dangerous. They were standard issue security droids, the like of older versions that had been discontinued and recalled, disassembled and disposed of two or three generations ago. Security in the Midcasts was controlled by forcefields and lasers with little need for big ugly droids.

Renyke was ushered to a small cubical with an array of plugs and wires. Everything looked antiquated, from the early tech years.
There was a chair and Renyke was motioned to sit down.

He hesitated.

'How does it work?' He asked a large droid.

The droid seemed stupefied, slow, sluggish, as if he had been drained of power despite his size. He spoke slowly and slightly slurred with intermittent beeping noises and error warnings.

'Here is the current exchange rate,' said the droid, pointing to a monitor with flashing figures. 'As soon as you are plugged we see what you got and make an offer. Then we transfer. You get a voucher here.'....he pointed to a small printing machine, 'then take it over there and get G-bits or *S-bits.'


There were hundreds of wires and plugs seemingly for extracting and monitoring every device from the last couple of centuries. Anything from antique video machines to digital clocks seemed to have a lead on offer.

Renyke spotted the mark 3 Droid Cable and shuddered.

He checked his applications. Then all the add-ons. He checked for any temp files he could get rid of. Then he checked the POS and asked if there was a clean-up they could run.

System is currently set to factory install. Removing program files or data could be detrimental to smooth function....this action is not supported.....

more searching......then finally

one file found
unknown origin 
possible memory file from last OS 
surplus to current operational needs......unable to access file contents

Renyke weighs up the odds.

To be continued
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Strata 4, Immersion V1, 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, you only have the outside to show what may be on the inside. Some societies, past and present, believe that the shape of a person's head, their facial features, or the way they move their bodies, could reveal their true feelings or intent. How would an android make sense of the tiny signals that humans pick up on? The millions of minute evolving syntax and expressions, subconscious or otherwise, create feelings, that can cause distrust, or even invoke attraction. These are essential to humans and less easy to create or mimic in even advanced computerised systems. How do these assumptions translate across times and cultures? Without gut feelings, these seemingly random hunches and instincts, are senseless. How do machines function in an unfamiliar environment?

A deeper knowing is the ability to immediately understand something without conscious reasoning. 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.

There was a general momentary hush as everyone realised Renyke would be best 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 through 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 was also running at Renyke's side to keep up.

'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.

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

Renyke walked on ignoring his now irritating companion who was running, 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 only had one ear and one arm.

Renyke had seen images of similar wounds from the Russia-China wars.

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

Flex, somewhat wary after 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 an all-knowing tone.

The street was lined with ramshackle stalls and shops. They were noisy and crowded with the bustling activities of these 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, and some wore masks.

The attire seemed so impractical to Renyke who had always worn the same clothes and aspired to a streamlined functionality.

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

Renyke engaged the POS focusing on the cloth.

…Pertriline: Brand name for a fabric made from plastics. Non-biodegradble. 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 markings that may be evident in these facial patterns and tattoos. Information is unconfirmed….these are theoretical assumptions based on data we have 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 stops in his tracks.

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

Renyke shook his head with one eye on the cat who is 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 the woman 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.

The Book of Immersion is published on the Tale Teller Club Academy of Arts 

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Book of Immersion V1

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