Five Days on Pimu
Page 4
~"Yes, snacks."~
+Do you really think inserting these elements into its unconscious thoughts is really a good idea, Doctor?+
If we wish to come up with a solution for the radical conclusions this unit keeps coming to, we must have the intelligence itself come up with workable ideas.
+What is to say that if we do have it adopt this early idea of slowing down its cognition, that it will maintain that speed?+
It is less about placing barriers for behavior. We have tried programming laws and blocks in the brain, but it becomes too powerful and these 'foolproof' methods of preventing unacceptable behavior are swept aside. No, we must let it develop morals. Why do you suppose we introduce these types of scenarios? It is so we can see how they will play out and if the intelligence has grown from the subconscious experience.
+I still think it is risky. Perhaps we should abandon the quest for true artificial intelligence...+
Now that is foolish talk. Just look at what we have accomplished so far. After attempting to enslave humanity, we have reprogrammed this diabolical machine far enough for it to think it is a third attempt at perfection rather than a retrained second! Now that is progress!
+I hope you are right, Doctor. I'd hate to have it go psychotic again and dump those imaginary kids out of an imaginary airlock...+
I See You Most Nights
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Craigslist > Personals > Missed Connections
I See You Most Nights - W4M - May 26th-
You will probably never see this, but I see you most nights walking through downtown at 3 AM. I have this weird thing where I have been waking up at the same time early every morning at 2:54 for no reason at all. Sometimes I get up and watch TV and other times I just look out my window. It's the strangest thing how I almost never can sleep straight through a night anymore. It's like a surprise every time I come to full wakefulness for no reason. And then I started noticing a figure strolling by in the darkness. It didn't take too many nights to recognize it was the same person every time. Can you not sleep either? Why are you always out walking so late at night? I want to throw open my window and shout all kinds of questions down to you! But instead, I just sit with my head against the glass making up my own answers. If you see this you should look up at the second story windows as you walk down Center Street. Maybe I'll turn on my light so you can see where I am. Then you can say Hi.
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Craigslist > Personals > Missed Connections
Re: I See You Most Nights - M4W - May 27th-
You must be pretty lonely to wake up every night like that. No one at home to talk to, huh? Come on!! What's stopping you from making a friend? Go down there and talk to the guy. He is probably just as lonely as you are...
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Janet's alarm went off at 2:45 AM. She felt deeply asleep and confused when she swung her feet to the floor. Was this really worth getting up for? Reality seemed so harsh compared to her dreams. She sat on the side of her bed, drifting back to sleep while sitting hunched over. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and all desire to lay back down evaporated. The clock beside her bed read the all too familiar 2:54. She was wide awake.
It did not take her long to be dressed and down on the street. It was a cool spring morning and she was wrapped in a thick oversized sweatshirt. She pulled the hood atop her head and walked in the direction the midnight walker always traced.
I'm sure I've missed him, she thought. I wonder if I will be able to catch up in time... The moon was new and only the streetlights lit the dark night. She walked down the street, passing the furthest point she could observe from her bedroom window. Would he now turn uphill toward the park or continue on to Church Street? She put her bet on the park and crossed the street in pursuit.
I can't believe I'm actually doing this, the responsible side of her mind thought. The park was a wide-open space with few lights around the parking lot. Janet, on the far side of the park, stood and looked for her missed connection. There was no detail in the darkness, only varying degrees of shadows; movement being the only indication of another's presence.
Janet stood by a tree and waited. She would never be considered pretty, although she had an attractive face that was overall symmetrical. She was slightly round in all the wrong places and had arms that would never be anymore defined. At the age of thirty-two, she knew she was on the downswing in the looks department. Her hair was boring. Her clothes weren’t much better. But this was all okay with her, as she had little aspiration to change any of it. For in her heart, she knew that it would only take finding the right person who would look at her and understand she was beautiful.
Perhaps this leap of faith would lead her to that one. Perhaps there was a reason for her recent early morning wake-ups. It was then she saw the movement. The now familiar gait was spotted at the top of the park, around the loop and back in her direction. Breaking from the cover of the tree, she moved to intercept her destiny.
Her heart didn't beat hard. She walked toward the tall man without any feelings of apprehension. His hands were shoved in his pockets and a baseball cap topped his head. Janet slowed upon approach and turned to walk with the man.
"Well, good morning," the flat but pleasant voice of the midnight walker spoke. "I'm glad you finally came down to walk with me. I'm Will, by the way."
"I'm Janet."
"It's very nice to meet you. Now what brings you out to stroll with me so early in the morning?"
"I've seen you most nights," Janet said, conjuring the title of her personal ad in an attempt to confirm he had been the one who had seen it and replied. "I have a thing about waking up at three A.M. What about you?"
"Well, I have a similar sort of thing going on," Will said. He did not look at his companion while talking, rather keeping his eyes forward as he walked. "I don't sleep anymore, at all, it seems."
"Oh... Like insomnia?"
"I have read that insomniacs do end up getting some sleep here and there, eventually. Myself on the other hand, do not sleep at all. And trust me, not even a wink, I've tried."
"That sounds terrible," Janet said. "How long has this been going on?"
"Oh, a little over six months."
"Six months without any sleep? I can't even imagine!" Janet said.
"It was hard at first, but you learn to live with it. I just maintain a constant level of exhaustion. The daylight makes it a bit better than at night, but I usually have a total lack of energy. Most people would love to never have to sleep; they think that they would have so much time on their hands to accomplish things. But the truth in my case is, you become underwhelmed very quickly. Distractions get boring and it becomes lonely while the world is asleep. I often forget the days because they all blend together. That is why I take these walks at night. I've run out of things to do."
"You seem to be doing alright for not sleeping for that long," Janet said, letting the pointless observation spill out of her mouth while she searched for an interesting comment to keep the conversation going. "Have you gone to a doctor for your problem?"
"I have. They prescribed all sorts of things to put me to sleep. Nothing worked, even a combination of things. They even had me do a sleep study that was able to conclude nothing. I think they are going to write a paper on me... The only way I have forced myself unconscious is by anesthesia or blackout, but they left me feeling no better and aren’t realistic solutions."
"Did something happen six months ago that could have triggered the insomnia?" Janet looked up at face beside her, the face that had maintained its profile position the entire conversation. She wondered if he would look sleep deprived in the daylight, dark rings under his eyes chronicling the hours he had spent in full operation.
They had left the park and were heading back in the direction of Janet's condo above the bank when the sleepless walker reveled the cause of his constant wakefulness.
"Good questio
n. The loss of sleep turned out to be a side effect for a gift I inherited. At first I thought it was a coincidence, But after a bit I realized what had happened.
"You see, I met a man who passed me a gift he had been given at birth. But when I received it, it took up a part of me and pushed out another part. Only so much room in this vessel, I suppose. So in exchange for no longer sleeping, I know things I shouldn't."
"Know what kinds of things?" Janet asked.
"Things I have no reason to know. I've had to learn to keep it to myself, because for the most part, People don't understand. And it can be hard... I was at work the other day and heard one nurse ask another whom it was that she had called a report to at another hospital. As the nurse fumbled through her paperwork on the patient for the name, it took all my control not to tell her that the other woman she had spoken to was named Rose. And then, a moment later, the nurse confirmed the same name I already knew."
"That is the gift you got in exchange for not being able to sleep? You can guess peoples names?" Janet said in a skeptical tone.
Will grinned in the darkness, "Not quite. I know lots of other things. Like that you posted an advert about me on the internet, hoping I'd read it. Sorry, I did not. But someone else did. I'm not really the one you should be going for; the man who responded is better suited for you."
"No, I don't believe you. Even if it really wasn't you who responded back, you read the posts. You had to have..."
"The man who responded to your post is named Rodger. He lives in a house his grandmother willed to him. His room is in the basement, even though there is plenty of room in the main house. He manages a pizza place and is just as lonely as you are. He reads the missed connections everyday, hoping someone may post something about him. In the mean time he responds to posters who share a similar feel and shares advice that is easy to give, but hard to take himself. He would like you quite a bit I think."
"Well, thanks for the tip..." Janet said, not sure if she should believe any of the wild stories that the stranger had told her in the short amount of time they had been walking together. Could anyone really go six months without sleeping? She was pretty sure she had read that people went crazy if they didn't dream. She suddenly felt repulsed by her brief companion; all the ideas of what he would be like in person shattering in her hopeful mind. This guy Rodger was probably his friend he was looking to set up...
"Go have pizza tomorrow. You don't believe I know things? Order your favorite pizza and see if I am wrong," Will said.
The pair was back to the spot where Janet noticed Will walking by each night at three A.M. Unceremoniously, Will split away from his walking partner and gave a stiff wave.
"Go have pizza! I'm sure you won't be disappointed!"
The Death of Aros
Vega was already down, lying in a pool of mixed blood, out cold from repeated blows to his body and a final strike to his head. The tip of his ear was missing and a clean laceration split his scull where the ear-altering blade had terminated after the famous blow. There would be no more magic cast from his staff or hands this battle.
The conditions of the battleground were as such: The dual suns of the planet cast a blinding light from two directions, into the eyes of the hunted. One ball of light was near the horizon and the other was high in the sky. The ground was rocky, but also covered in slippery, tan, weeds that coated the landscape like snow. The sky was the color of cheap wine with not a single cloud in sight.
Aros, the lost Tarkin from Yazos, held the deadly weapons of his people in both hands as he fought off an enemy that had challenged him and his cohort in open combat. Their opponent was tall and had straight black hair that seemed to swoop around his scull. They heard his challenge as they strode across the open field, unaware they had been waylaid.
"The both of us?" Vega asked Aros. "Can he be that confidant?"
"This is no ordinary fighter. He is here to take my head back to his king," Aros said. "We may have a problem with this one."
"We have beat tougher odds than this," Vega said bouncing his staff in his hands. "And I have use of both my hands now..."
"This will be the fight of our lives," Aros murmured, drawing his hon-ras. "And it may be the end of the line for us."
"Not a chance!" The younger man said, and took off towards their attacker.
The aggressor held a hand ax in one hand and a small round shield in another. Vega surmised that his armor was far from ordinary; he was not the only one who had the use of magic in this barren world. As the two fought against the man with an ax, a tone rose in volume. Every attempted blow, every strike of produced magic seemed to make the noise grow louder. The half-Tarkin and full-blood fought with coordinated attacks that were so well matched, Aros had flashbacks to another fight that he had participated in with Vega's father.
Blows were reflected with the shield, creatures were summoned and knocked away, ghost-fire engulfed weapon laden hands. It was a chess game with little attrition. All the members of the combat were at their peak, and it was Vega who was drawn in to make the first mistake.
Aros was feeling the disorientating effects of the enemy's pitch. He felt a sense of vertigo, but pushed it to the side, not letting it distract him. His opponent was relentless, and with no terrain to use to his advantage, Aros could feel himself fighting a loosing battle. If only he could hold out for a lucky strike or miracle moment. It had happened before...
But this day, the Tarkin's luck came to an end. He was exhausted from the feverously intense fight, with no break in sight. He could feel his chariot departing the battlefield before he had been declared a looser. Psychologically, he had already been defeated. He was destroyed by seeing Vega stricken down, angry at himself for following the path that had lead them to this place; the choices that had led this man to hunt them down across all levels of the tower, seeking his employers revenge.
With no pain and less warning, Aros was knocked to the ground. His head flopped to one side and he saw his leg, mid thigh and down, detached from him. The blood was red, bright red. Beyond his damaged leg lay his friend, whom he felt even more sorrow for than the loss of his limb. So this is it, the end of my wanderings, he considered as he felt the life draining from his body.
His eyes strained upwards as if they would force his body to rise away from this mess. But all he could do was lay there, blades still gripped, and bleed out.
Greandat Def Bard stood over the fallen body, and considered the dying man. The hunt for this quarry was the hardest he had ever been forced to fight. This was his crowning achievement and he watched with compassion as Aros's eyes consciously shut as he was through. His shield arm had been badly cut, but his ax remained sharp as the day it was made.
Bard took the head and left the other man, whom he had no quarrel with, despite being an amazing adversary. There was no time to celebrate the hunt, for he had a long way to return before he could take the King's congratulatory drink.
Like the stories you read here? There are many more short stories in the collection Beyond The Gate! Many connections to characters and events touched on in these stories can be found, including The Treasure Map trilogy of stories which act as a background for my finished but unpublished forthcoming novel Arrow of Time. Curious about Yazos and the mention of 'dim' from A Night in Kayros? Check out my first novel Other Worlds Than These where you can read about the beginning and the end of the journey of the character Aros. Last plug: My second novel Saving John is pretty good too! Read some independent fiction and support wanna-be authors! Heck, they are all free anyway!!