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.....

©2024 Sarnia de la Mare

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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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Publishing

Book of Immersion V1

Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 4

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

Strata 1
Strata 2
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Strata 4
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Strata 7
Strata 8
Strata 9
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Strata 13
Strata 14
Strata 15
Strata 16
Strata17
Strata 18
Strata 19
Strata 21

Glossary
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