Post by Vi-Poi on Jun 25, 2015 20:17:57 GMT
Dr. Slouch stood hunched over the glowing laboratory, his rheumy eyes fixated on numbers fizzling across his fading vision. He was hobbling on his cane, his frail hand barely supporting the weight of his body. It never ceased to amaze him – the destructive passage of merciless time. Not so long ago, in the grand scheme of things, he’d been a vigorous young man. Now, he was a shadow of his former self, in both mind and body. In a short time, he would be the dinner of worms, and after that, a word uttered here and there amidst old reports from the Science Corps. He would pass from the memory of the living into the memory of the dead, a name to be recalled on exam sheets and research papers, his theorems to be exalted and examined by reverent and bright new minds. It would not be him they lauded, but the memory of him.
This android was something else, altogether. The synthetic lifeform that called itself Vi-Poi was, for all intents and purposes, immortal. His consciousness was not made of the prude and fickle matter of the human brain. It was formed on hard numbers, numbers that were profound and immovable, numbers that could be sustained upon the strongest harnesses known in all the cosmos – yttrium and katchin -- and perpetuated into the future indefinitely. It was a system to be envied. How humbling was it, to the mere mortals, that such a creature could be created? With all their flaws, humans had concocted a being far greater than they could ever hope to attain. Vi-Poi did not fear death. He did not fear oblivion. In less than one year’s time, he had transformed the entire planet into yet another subroutine of control for his processer to manage and maintain. In a thousand years – or ten thousand, even – who was to say that such a wily and clever creature wouldn’t contain the entire Universe within its forever-growing operating parameters?
Vi-Poi certainly had the power.
Right now, the synthetic creature in question was at the center of a great machine. It stretched on for several hundred kilometers – a great circle that bore deep under the world, wreathing across the vast emptiness of the ocean floor. Helicopters and littorals from Blue Banner swept over the seas, making certain there was no intrusion, electronic or physical. Their detectors had the sensitivity to probe the farthest nether-region of outer space, but were pointed down into the watery abyss.
They were all centered upon the android. The great machine, the product of a million minds, was loaded with the energy of a billion suns. Lights from far away cities flickered from the sheer magnetic flux the machine generated as it powered on. This operation would make the android an even greater representation of fast synthetics’ dominance over slow biology.
They were pushing his three main components – his Tuffle Reactor, his Magic Operating Device, and his uncanny robotic mind into a single core. The Magitech Megacore, the engineers had begun to call it. His power level was projected to nearly double from this single event. The entire operation was top secret, but if it proved a success, there would be no stopping the Administrator.
There was an air of excitement in the submarine as it revolved the bottom of the dark depths. The beryl glow of ring’s center, which housed the dormant Vi-Poi, was the center of its orbit. The other scientists present were nearly giddy with excitement. Dr. Slouch, in comparison, was silent. He harbored lingering doubt, one that had to be drowned by a bottle of liquor in the early hours of the morning, but had managed to bubble up again at the site of the central lab where the specimen waited. He’d recently managed to view some of Vi-Poi’s heptadecimal codebase, and it confused him. There were archaic lines present in his subroutines, lurking in strange places where they shouldn’t be, near-imperceptible. As if they were hiding.
When he’d spoken to the Administrator about it, before the android went into dormancy, he’d seemed unconcerned, and attributed it to garbage information that had been accumulating over time with his prolonged and chronic uploading of ancient Red Ribbon software. It seemed a logical explanation, but something feral in the old doctor’s gut made the hair stand on his neck as he watched the transmission spokes come on line. The conduits would feed a massive jolt of energy straight into the laboratory, giving the android enough energy to merge all three systems and form the Megacore.
Lights in the submarine blazed as the final countdown began.
“T-minus ten seconds to contact. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five.”
Dr. Slouch took in a deep breath, his hand gripping on to his cane. Great waves of a florescent red energy were thrumming towards the center laboratory where Vi-Poi lay, his operating capsule glowing cherry-red. The heat was causing a great column of boiling ocean water to fume upwards, a veritable tornado of scorching bubbles.
“…Four. Three. Two.”
“One.”
The submarine was bathed in a bright red light. Emergency sirens blazed in the cabin. Computer monitors were flickering with error codes. The sea was shaking.
Something had gone very wrong.
Lines of text now cascaded down the submarine’s view screen. It was Vi-Poi… the operation had… damaged him! Dr. Slouch’s jaw dropped in shock at the text relayed from the android’s processor.
It was the Administrator, coiled up like a newborn. Not as he was, normally. As they magnified the image, they could see the bright shock of new red hair that had replaced his azure tint. Angry red lines crisscrossed his body in angular geometries.
The image of their leader floating inexorably towards the light of the surface, giving off that chaotic siren’s glow, filled everyone in the submarine with a sense of dread.
“The Administrator… has been compromised.” Dr. Slouch gasped as he read the new and incomprehensible data streaming in, shaking visibly. “We must alert the others. KAOS must respond. The Army must respond. The world must. Given the nature of this virus, the entire Universe could be at stake.”
(x22 learned)
This android was something else, altogether. The synthetic lifeform that called itself Vi-Poi was, for all intents and purposes, immortal. His consciousness was not made of the prude and fickle matter of the human brain. It was formed on hard numbers, numbers that were profound and immovable, numbers that could be sustained upon the strongest harnesses known in all the cosmos – yttrium and katchin -- and perpetuated into the future indefinitely. It was a system to be envied. How humbling was it, to the mere mortals, that such a creature could be created? With all their flaws, humans had concocted a being far greater than they could ever hope to attain. Vi-Poi did not fear death. He did not fear oblivion. In less than one year’s time, he had transformed the entire planet into yet another subroutine of control for his processer to manage and maintain. In a thousand years – or ten thousand, even – who was to say that such a wily and clever creature wouldn’t contain the entire Universe within its forever-growing operating parameters?
Vi-Poi certainly had the power.
Right now, the synthetic creature in question was at the center of a great machine. It stretched on for several hundred kilometers – a great circle that bore deep under the world, wreathing across the vast emptiness of the ocean floor. Helicopters and littorals from Blue Banner swept over the seas, making certain there was no intrusion, electronic or physical. Their detectors had the sensitivity to probe the farthest nether-region of outer space, but were pointed down into the watery abyss.
They were all centered upon the android. The great machine, the product of a million minds, was loaded with the energy of a billion suns. Lights from far away cities flickered from the sheer magnetic flux the machine generated as it powered on. This operation would make the android an even greater representation of fast synthetics’ dominance over slow biology.
They were pushing his three main components – his Tuffle Reactor, his Magic Operating Device, and his uncanny robotic mind into a single core. The Magitech Megacore, the engineers had begun to call it. His power level was projected to nearly double from this single event. The entire operation was top secret, but if it proved a success, there would be no stopping the Administrator.
There was an air of excitement in the submarine as it revolved the bottom of the dark depths. The beryl glow of ring’s center, which housed the dormant Vi-Poi, was the center of its orbit. The other scientists present were nearly giddy with excitement. Dr. Slouch, in comparison, was silent. He harbored lingering doubt, one that had to be drowned by a bottle of liquor in the early hours of the morning, but had managed to bubble up again at the site of the central lab where the specimen waited. He’d recently managed to view some of Vi-Poi’s heptadecimal codebase, and it confused him. There were archaic lines present in his subroutines, lurking in strange places where they shouldn’t be, near-imperceptible. As if they were hiding.
When he’d spoken to the Administrator about it, before the android went into dormancy, he’d seemed unconcerned, and attributed it to garbage information that had been accumulating over time with his prolonged and chronic uploading of ancient Red Ribbon software. It seemed a logical explanation, but something feral in the old doctor’s gut made the hair stand on his neck as he watched the transmission spokes come on line. The conduits would feed a massive jolt of energy straight into the laboratory, giving the android enough energy to merge all three systems and form the Megacore.
Lights in the submarine blazed as the final countdown began.
“T-minus ten seconds to contact. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five.”
Dr. Slouch took in a deep breath, his hand gripping on to his cane. Great waves of a florescent red energy were thrumming towards the center laboratory where Vi-Poi lay, his operating capsule glowing cherry-red. The heat was causing a great column of boiling ocean water to fume upwards, a veritable tornado of scorching bubbles.
“…Four. Three. Two.”
“One.”
The submarine was bathed in a bright red light. Emergency sirens blazed in the cabin. Computer monitors were flickering with error codes. The sea was shaking.
Something had gone very wrong.
Lines of text now cascaded down the submarine’s view screen. It was Vi-Poi… the operation had… damaged him! Dr. Slouch’s jaw dropped in shock at the text relayed from the android’s processor.
Internal Alert! Protection Protocol Activated.
Sector 7 Protection Grid: Failure.
Sector 5 Memory Management: Failure.
Sector 1 Operating System: Failure.
Sector 0 Core: Failure.
96,054,323,483,394,028,274 files corrupted.
I͋ͪ̈́̈̊͊͛ni͂ti͒a͌t̎͗̊͆͐ͫi͋̿̑n͐͂ğ̈́̓͂ͭ ̆ͪͮ͛ͤ̓ͤfàͯ̾̒̿̒ͤkͣ̄e̽̇͂ͩn͑ͤ̋ĕ͑t͊̒ a͑̈́͛ͩ͑nͥd̓͐ͯ͒ Ṽ̿ͨ͂i͊̌ͮr̅͗̽ͨͨu͆̔͊̈̋ͮ̆s ̅̈́̓Hͦ̐̃úͫ͊ͬnter̊̉͋̾ ͋̅ͮͫ͐̊Pͨͧ̄̾ͣͣ̾r̐̐o͑͛̒ṫ̇oc̋̋͂̓oͮ͛̐ͯ̿̿̎l͆̉͋̂.͐ͥ ̍̓ͦ̅ͨ
ͬ̈͆
͋͌̎̈́̓̈́A̾͆͑̚c̆̂c̒ͮͤ͐͐ēs͛̒ͩ̃s Dͪe̅̓̆ͭͣ͋̓nied.̄ͥ
V̄i͗͊͗̊rͣͬ̑u͗̽ͪs ̎̆ͤ̅ͧf̀̓̍ou̓̒nͦͩ̆̐̌dͯ̓̈͌:̌
ͥ
̍ͣN͂͑a̽ͨ̔̋mͫeͬ͂̄̅̉:̐ͬ ͤͫ̍͒͑̄R̓́ͯ͋̓ͤë́̉̿d͆ ͂͗ͤR̋ͣ̍̚i͒ͯ͒͗͋̿b̑ͬ̈́b̆ͫ̔ͬoͥ̾͌ͫ̚nͣ͊̉͂ͤ͌̚ ̓͊̓̉͋ͪȒ̅̊̏̈́̐ẽ̎̽͂ͯ̊aͦ̊͛̇ͮl̃͆ͬ̓ͯig͗ͦn͋̂͐́ͭͮ̏ĕͤͫ̀rͬ ̓
̃
ͣ̈́̈͂̉T͗yͭ̄̄͆ṗë́̈̎ͩ̐ͭ̎:͋̓ͣ̚ ͪAͥ̎͒̂r͛ͫͧ͗̈́͆̀c̀hͥ̎͐ͥ̏̃̃a͋iͫ̊ͮcͤͧ̆̍/ͬͮ͊͊̍̎unͣkͤ͑̓͌́̔̚nͦ̑o̓͂͛̎ͦ̇w̍͂̽ͥnͤ ̄
ͯ̉̅̈͊̈̅
̇̆͆̇A̐ͪ͐́̔l̅̊͌͊ͯ͌ert͂͑̐ ̈́ͩ͑ͬ͌ͯLͭ̋ͯͩͮ̈́ẻvͮ̑͋̂ͥ͊̚ẻ͛̅̒̚l̓̽̐̾̉:͌̽ͭͤ̚ ̌́Cͯ͐̐ͪ̓ř̓̐̿̿i̎͆̈́̑͆tͫ̈́ͨ͂i̓̒̇̽c̋̍̀ͩaͫͣ̏l͛̉̔̈́̚
The screen suddenly went dark. The captain of the submarine, visibly shaken, flipped on the display. The energy spike that had caused the pressure wave had also torn open the central capsule where the Administrator had been suspended. Bits of metal and charred laboratory equipment floated up and outward from the breached building. Something else floated upward from that dark chasm too. It pulsed with a blood-red light, like the strobing lamp of a police-car.It was the Administrator, coiled up like a newborn. Not as he was, normally. As they magnified the image, they could see the bright shock of new red hair that had replaced his azure tint. Angry red lines crisscrossed his body in angular geometries.
The image of their leader floating inexorably towards the light of the surface, giving off that chaotic siren’s glow, filled everyone in the submarine with a sense of dread.
“The Administrator… has been compromised.” Dr. Slouch gasped as he read the new and incomprehensible data streaming in, shaking visibly. “We must alert the others. KAOS must respond. The Army must respond. The world must. Given the nature of this virus, the entire Universe could be at stake.”
(x22 learned)