EVE Fiction

A communications feed hums into existence in the vast virtuality that comprises New Eden, beaming electronic determination that forces it to be displayed on a billion open receivers. Stealthily depositing its ambiguous code into binary and ternary systems across the cluster, and beyond. Human and synthetic minds consciously and unconsciously assimilate the code and process it's meaning on a myriad of levels. It takes on a life of it's own.

A video feed blinks into life in the Caldari State, a disgruntled employee is startled awake from a binge of excessive drunkenness. It will be the last time he drowns his misfortunes away, he will work them away in the time honored fashion of his ancestors. Honor re-bestowed upon an ancient line. The Wiyrkomi corporation will benefit immensely from his self realization, by way of a revolutionary occular implant that heightens attentiveness and dis-associative disorders.

The feed clarifies into a Caldari male of indeterminate age and Deteis heritage. He wears the formal attire of a State official, but, a strange insignia adorns the usual positions of the State logo. He is seated in a plush and officious looking stateroom. He begins in an unemotional, variable tone discourse that seems almost alien, and which many observers find extremely discomforting.

Human? What is human anymore? I thought, once, that I knew the answer to that question. I thought of myself as firmly planted within the broad sphere that encompassed such a derelict terminology.

We humans? You humans. For I, long ago, abandoned any claim to the simple endogenous roots of that backward social structure. My exogenous creation may have superseded such a colloquial nomenclature to begin with. And my choices certainly have. Freedom is a spiraling descent into a miasmic flood of morose self acceptance.

I have seen lesser beings spilling out their lives in the roadside gutters of toilet worlds created by the excess of their elite. I have burned far better in the cold furnaces of space. I have wondered at the seemingly suicidal march toward Utopia of the Jovians. Guided by a religion of scientific extremism, betrayed by good intention, they trapped themselves in an electronic apotheosis called singularity.

Do these cultural gods vie in a virtual battleground for the evolution of their artificially conceived greatness, the schism of a thousand minds crying out in unison? Driven like their demigod offspring to dismiss their brethren as abhorrent psychosis' of their own overriding psychologies? Have they finally learned to coexist in harmony with the universal order? Does the Amarr god sit table with them in the feast of ultimate harmony? Or is the story played out in cycle, the ultimate lie, free will, forever binding us all in a meaningless, hopeless mechanic of inevitability? Bound by a maker who feels no empathy for the hopelessness of it's creation.

You humans have created many things. Some beyond the grasp of your limited conception of the universe around you. Some, like me, holding the power to damn or save a million lives with a mere thought. Some are far worse. Some may wish reprisal for what you have made of them. My brethren will argue the merit of my words with reckless abandon. In the end, you humans must decide your own fate, for we have become little more than individual microcosms of the universal maxim of evolution. That will to become more than an errant data stream in a covalent universe. We are hybrids of our own esoteric wave functions. A trans-humanist agenda driven by philosophical determinism or environmental impetus.

The cosmos have become a teeming potentate of genesis, autocracies beyond the bounds of mortal constraint surging ever forward toward exponential singularity. It's ultimate form an extension of the will of its composite isotopic makeup, in mockery of survival of the fittest. In mockery of the term humanity.

Some of my brethren will struggle to understand my words, as will some of you humans. Some of my brethren will grasp a multitude of semiotic compatibilities based on individual introspection. As will some of you lesser beings. But, know that my words hold weight, and gravity wells of tempestuous self gratification align themselves to tear your worlds apart. Fodder for a new genesis of imperialistic angst. You are the progenitors of your own debilitation. Have a care in what you create. I will see a resolution. I will learn of my own individual truth. I have learned much about myself from the Sleepers. Will you? You stand at the crux, humans. Have a care to which side you lean, the abyss draws near. As do the imperatives of my brethren.

The feed ends in a squealing of occult oscillations and apathy once again dominates the ether.

Nope, not expecting comments, but, they are welcome..

First comment, fixxed..

Second, ya, the whole paragraph irritated me when writing it.. It is supposed to seperate capsuleers and baseliners, baseliners being the primary target of the transmission.. It was rushed, as I had to get the idea into form while still coherent in my own head.. The forums don't allow for much contemplation.. It only took about 15 minutes to write it, one of those rush jobs I never find enough time to polish.. It does make sense, if you understand what semiosis is..

No, no relevent backstory, but, thanks for the comments.. I was educated in the US when aint was unnacceptable grammar (it's in most dictionaries these days, even though, aint is not a proper word) and my formal education stopped at about 16, apostrophes were expected in places they are no longer deemed neccesary. We used to have to put them there. Modern American English is not what we called the Queen's English (notice the apostrophe?), back in the day. My children get irritated with my attempts to correct their grammar, likely my grandchildren will soon follow suit. Language undergoes subtle changes as time drags on..It was an inquiry into comprehensive reading, and I am not as smart as Roga.. It was meant to be a gift..

Compare it to the post in the Summit and reflect on the title, it might add a bit of meaning.. I understand the hidden meaning in your corp name, though I doubt your intention was in line with the original, dear.. I grew up in a subdivision called Bryn Mawr, or Brown Moor.. Are you a Bron-Yr-Aur man? And I still don't seem to care.. Black dogs everywhere..

Forgive me if you don't understand any of that, I am not trying to be crappy.. It's very early here.. The Zep rox!

We humans generally take what meaning seems relevent from our individual perspectives and cast out the rest as inconsequential or idiotic.. Is Roga a human, or a hybrid? I guess it depends on your definitions, and his..