Strata 13, The Book of Immersion, Renyke Takes Action, (Hormones)

 Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 13

When a human is put under stress from within their environment, there is an increase in anxiety and stress hormone, epinephrine, also known as Adrenaline. This hormone 'rush' can feel like anxiousness, nervousness, or excitement. Human soldiers, for example, have been seen to find extreme violence euphoric, ecstatic, and even addictive.

Feelings of 'amped up' anxiety are necessary for survival. Often the hormone rushes in such extreme situations will lead to a human's increased ability to concentrate, feelings of immortality, and a distraction from pain. Blood vessels contract to direct more blood to major muscle groups increasing strength for up to an hour after any such stressful event.

The power of a machine, an android, an artificial intelligence program, etc., is not linked to hormone releases. The ability to increase strength could be programmed into robots as an extra storage source, when needs must, but such resources are prescriptive and controlled through innate programming. Most humans are unaware of their own strengths and may be rarely tested to call upon them, unlike a machine whose reserve banks are permanently at the ready. 

Humans under the influence of long term stress, in situations of domestic abuse for example, will not function correctly and may die prematurely.

Renyke opens the window with lightening speed.

'What you doing man? Ya *fucksyfool,' shouted flex. 

At the same time Shabra opened her window, smiling innocently at the robber.

Flex, realising that he better act fast or risk being an onlooker, opened the window hatch on the roof.

Renyke's extension arm had engaged adding a foot or more to his normal reach.
In the blink of Flex's eye, Renyke grabbed the threatening assailant by the throat and with one squeeze of his Adam's apple, the victim fell to the ground with an instantly broken neck. 

His bulging eyes popped from his skull as he hit the floor, rolling into the gutter.

Simultaneously, Shabra, still smiling, held up one hand in surrender. The assailant lapsed his concentration, focusing on his friend who has disappeared from the other side of the vehicle. The man with the AK47 at the front did the same.

Almost in unison Shabra and Flex regained control taking on one robber each.
Shabra, barely flinching and with great dexterity, cut the robber's throat like the wild animal she hunted for lunch. Renyke sees only the glinting blade as it shards through the darkness.

Flex, now atop the vehicle with his torso, had engaged his mental autopilot and retrieved his favourite hand pistol from one of the many pockets in his long coat.
He fired six bullets for good measure, penetrating the man in front of the car who dropped the AK47 before he fell to the ground in a bloody mess.

The hail of bullets caused screaming, shouting and general mayhem as people ducked and scrambled for cover.

'Dum arse men, a poorly manned ambush indeedy! Speedy but Greedy,' said Shabra as she wiped the blade on her trousers grimacing at the assailants blood then smiling at her rhyming skills.
She wasted no time, immediately engaging the car and running over one of the muggers.

Other people moved aside, frightened and not willing to take on the potentially life threatening vehicle.

Flex was hooting and screaming. 
'Yes, man. Woa, they didn't see that coming. You guys are good!

Erm, but what's with the weird arm, Renyke man?'

Shabra looks at Flex in the mirror and says, 'Well, we've only seen a few of his skills so far. He's a droid after all.'

'Of course, said Flex. I do forget. He seems so, you know........

'Hmmmmm, he really does,' agrees Shabra




to be continued.....

© 2024 Sarnia de la Maré FRSA

Other Episodes of the Book of Immersion by Sarnia de la Maré FRSA

Strata 1
Strata 2
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Strata 4
Strata 5
Strata 6
Strata 7
Strata 8
Strata 9
Strata 10
Strata 11
Strata 12
Strata 13
Strata 14
Strata 15
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Strata 18

GLOSSARY

Strata 11, Immersion V1, Crossroads (Guessing)

Welcome to Immersion, You Have Reached Strata 11, Crossroads (Guessing)

To predict is always about a future possibility. Guessing, for a human, is usually more abstract, more emotional and about the now. Artificial intelligence uses a different sort of guesswork based on mathematics, likelihood, statistical evidence, and machine experience. Humans, whilst using all these models, albeit to a lessor degree, also use intuition. It is this fluid intuition that creates a human view of the environment and allows a person to act accordingly. An intuitive machine can offer insight in an unexpected situation, but is of no use unless acted upon. Proprioception, the sixth sense, refers to how the human brain understands where the body is in space. A seventh sense manifests in peripheral immune cells detecting microorganisms and delivering the information to the brain. The sixth and seventh senses are likely to help create 'gut feelings' in humans.

Shabra looks at Renyke. 'What now Mr Renyke?
The Robodog jumps onto the car roof barking excitedly.
Out of the enclosure, there is a crossroads.
The left turn goes back onto the street where the bank was. It is dangerous, especially at night, because gangs of criminals take control of the streets in convoys of vehicles running drugs and weapons. 

The control the Zones with violence and the offer of protection. They are empowered by gangs of decommissioned droids under their control. Criminal humans at the helm have created an organised crime network. Anarchy prevails and there is no official system of state policing or philanthropic social care. Dog eat dog is the only expectation.
Despite this, there is a underclass of *urchs, referred to as *lowers, who are very happy. They have been able to carve out an existence in the *zones where colour, dance and music are their pleasures. They smoke and party all the time. They are mostly nomadic living in temporary movable homes. Many have pop-up tents that fold onto pouches or vehicles they have fashioned from old wreckages. 
There is a network of tunnels under all the zones from the now unused underground trains.
Some of the tunnels are better than others in terms of safety and usability. Some areas are used as habitats. The territory and ownership of tunnel zones is fiercely fought over and protected.
There is no downtime in the Zones. Many businesses run all night because when they close they are vulnerable to robbery, arson, or take over. Market traders sell their wares using shift workers and can pack their goods away quickly when there are battles between the gangs.
Flex is an u and was born in the zones. He has no other cultural experiences to call upon but he has developed excellent survival skills and is even respected by people outside of his tribe. In terms of hierarchy Flex is more of a maverick operator avoiding obligations than getting along and not aggravating situations. Flex is something of a diplomat and his height and sense of humour have made him affable and connected over the years.
The right turn leads to the savanna. It is safer from the gangs but there are other dangers, wild animals, noxious substances from old mines, and low flying craft from the official police trying to keep the greenbelt around the Midcast projects clear.
The ground was heavily polluted after the Russia/China wars. The habitat is overrun in places with and mutated farm animals who were exposed to these dangerous substances making their heads and teeth massive. They are also extremely aggressive and will eat human flesh whenever they can.
There are caves where there is safety from the animals and there are connecting wet tunnels and lagoons but these have never been mapped correctly. Word of mouth is the only reference but survivors are few.
There are tribes of people from the savanna who have made their homes there but are rarely seen. They are deemed reasonably placid as they have never caused any trouble elsewhere. They are rumoured to be shy, excellent hunters, highly superstitious and have been thought to possess witchlike powers.
There is an urban myth that an old centre for strategic warfare lies beneath the savanna and that the tribes who live there, with access to hi-tech equipment, scramble satellite information allowing them to be hidden.

The road ahead leads directly back to the *Midcasts from where Renyke originally came.
Beyond the projects are the government departments, airports, factories and centres of information. Further still are the palaces and homes of the very wealthy. The Midcasts are medium to high wage earner homes, with schools and facilities for professionals and academics.
The way that mainstream society is structured in the present is based on a capitalist idea of perfection: consistent innovation, counteracting labour fallout due to advancing technology by placating a keen and able workforce, and protecting the ownership of the means of production for as few empowered individuals or corporations as possible.
There is very little opportunity for upward social mobility. Hard work and study will create a good life for families but becoming wealthy or powerful requires access to the means of production. Governments and landowners are careful not to allow ordinary workers and lower professionals access to these avenues of power and control.
The biggest means of production is the internet and interactive media. Both are tightly controlled by a group of related conglomerates, most of whom made their fortune through the production of weapons and vaccines.
Downtime for workers is spent in the VR cafes where *mersers can get drunk, have sex, take a swim on holiday and even murder people, albeit in their heads, during their coffee breaks.
RR, real reality, is frowned upon as anti-intellectual and subnormal.
But some Midcasters have abandoned their lives for RR and have gone to the outer zones to seek fulfilment. For these people, RR is their calling or obsession. Others, like Renyke, find that their continued presence in the Midcast Projects is dangerous or compromised and came to escape an undesirable situation or death.
Renyke makes a decision based on the only experience and knowledge he has.
'We go left....back into town.'

to be continued © 2023 Sarnia de la Maré 

Links to episodes of Immersion written and illustrated by Sarnia de la Maré FRSA, published by Tale Teller Club

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Strata 8, Book of Immersion V1, Shabra, (Laws of Attraction)

  

Shabra (Laws of Attraction) 

Sexual attraction for humans is dictated by a reflex to engage in intimacy with others. This phenomenon can be influenced by physical cues alone, the way a human looks, moves, speaks an so on.

Romantic attraction may be described as deeper and yet may still be instantaneous, spurred on by feelings of wanting a relationship with another.

These two desires may appear together in a deep power of attraction.

The psychology of attraction is most peculiar to humans. It is not possible to create this phenomenon in machines whose methods of attraction use logical conditions to draw entities towards them. Predefined targets for machine attention avoid accidents, although machines are notorious for repeatedly targeting their attention on non compliant humans.

Likewise, human attraction is usually nonreciprocal. A machine programmed to give a human all it needs will often reap better results. But when dealing with human desires, neither machine nor human can ever guarantee positive results.

Jerome breaks an awkward silence, 'No *ishy, brother,' He stamped on another Scritter. 'Damn those nasty little *mudafinks!'

Renyke exits the concrete compound with Flex running anxiously behind.

The *robodog had waited patiently at the entrance and began wagging its tail and leaping around.

Renyke spots some graffiti with the Redact logo near an underpass. Maybeline crawled out of his coat and nudged his cheek for food.

'You sure you did the right thing brother?' asked Flex, who was now feeling agitated. His naive friend was likely to lead him into trouble. Perhaps it was time to take charge of the matter.

'Wheels is speed, wheels is protection my friend. We gonna stand out like *fucksyfools on the streets. People gonna target us! Words spread fast.' Flex explained still half running to keep pace.

'I can manage quite well,' said Renyke, 'You don't need to .......' Renyke trails off, distracted by a woman on the car roof.

She glanced over at Renyke.

'Oh well let's just go and ask her for her car then' said Flex.

'Are you mocking me?'

Renyke was genuinely unsure. He had always grappled with humour. Incongruous remarks always had to be analysed closely. A false analysis could be incompatible with overall provision of human satisfaction, which was paramount to his function in the world.

Mabel had used the word *nuke about some of her friends.

'I believe the woman to be nuke, explained Renyke, continuing with some confidence.
She exhibits a powerful energy, enough to engage a compelling force as I look on.

'Hahahahahaha.....' laughed Flex, that will make things worse, trust me, I have knowledge.

Tut, follow me,' sighed Flex reluctantly leading the way.

The woman was sitting on the roof of the car smoking a pipe and making smoke rings.

Renyke felt a momentary surge of something unknown deep inside him. Was it fear he wondered, Trepidation?
Things were not computing.

He checked the POS for his health levels.

...Normal activity presenting. 99.9% battery remaining. Nothing unusual to report.

But Renyke felt a strange fluttering feeling in his belly.

The woman sitting on the car whistled. 'Hey!'

'Like the coat! Cool *toggies. You wanna *swapsie-trade?'

The woman jumped off the car and lifted her fist for an air bump followed by an elbow bump, then a salute. Renyke tried to keep up but was cumbersome. He had seen these manoeuvres in old films on the *tellywebs but he had never actually performed them.

*'Wappens?' asked the woman in a strong accent.' Renyke guessed what she meant and said,

'I need transport, not far, just to Redact, do know that place?'

The woman laughed.....'Man like you, looks way too soft for the *guanty-travel.'

Renyke checks the POS.

'gaunty-travel'......colloquial, Zoners' slang roughly translates as a very dangerous journey

'But I can take to the second-zone, five miles nearer, then you gotta make your own ways,' she continues.

'What you go by?' she asks.

Renyke looks confused.......

'I'm Shabra. Lady of the Shadows, where I go no light follows, ya hear me soldier? I travel at night where there are no lights.'

'I'm Renyke,' he said, trying to decipher the poetry.

You wanna swapsie-trade the coat, or you got me somtin sweeta? I take nibs, bits.......1000 G-bits and you got me hired. But I like that coat too.'

'It's a good deal man, said Flex, 'good deal, five miles is five miles. We come too, me n the dog! I got no ties to this street.'

Flex looks at Shabra who sighs, 'Yeah yeah, whoever, no pipin' in my *vicular though.'

Renyke knows that Flex could be useful, and the robodog too. It was obedient and would do as it was told.

to be continued

@2023 Sarnia de la Mare

Links to episodes of Immersion written and illustrated by Sarnia de la Maré FRSA, published by Tale Teller Club

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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
© 2023 Sarnia de la Maré FRSA

Links to episodes of Immersion written and illustrated by Sarnia de la Maré FRSA, published by Tale Teller Club

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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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Each episode features CDM music by the band Tale Teller Club.

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© 2024 Sarnia de la Maré

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Book of Immersion V1

Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 4

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