8. (New)

Computer: The cave they had just made their way out of within the volcano is collapsing. Surely, it will bring the recently discovered Secret Temple down alongside it. At the base of the volcano the native inhabitants of this island had discovered the cave millennia ago, erecting a Temple which was only accessible through the Volcanic tunneling systems that had now just totally collapsed. Narrowly escaping with their lives, new dangers arise before their eyes. They flee the precious discovery as rocks of varying sizes rain down from above--" And then a voice, another voice, one apart from the scenario-setting computer voice; out of the darkness and interjecting with a high pitched, Mickey Mouse tambre: "And don't forget to mention all the falling rocks are flaming blue!" Computer: "Yes—and the rocks were flaming blue; it was an eerie blue flame." "I'm not scared," said the small voice. The computer overseeing the scenario decides to cut to video footage of the boy darting his way around Temple stone, narrating alongside the boy as he makes his way down a rumbling corridor. His loose fitting safari clothes are popping, making sounds like sparks as the cloth resists in each fast moving limb punch, punching limbs up against the material at full pace.

loading…

Computer: “Yes, legend has it that the cave was coming down rapidly, and bringing the Temple down alongside it. Catastrophe seemed inevitable…

Though there had been debate on the matter of the safety of the volcano, and whether the Temple could survive an eruption, beforehand, none would dispute it's danger now. The ancient secrets held within are safe no longer; the adventurers are forcibly conceding, however begrudgingly; they are powerless.

And if there was any debate to be had on the structural integrity left open for discussion, there weren’t anymore Tribal guides left to warn of it. They had all been wrong, about the safety, and now they’re dead. They said they believed the volcano was still inactive, but it was just hunch. It was a gamble. Now, looking at the situation that the group had found themselves mixed up in, it was apparent that–

Aleon: “You can’t trust the island scientists when it comes to something as important as this…”
Inside the cavern, these tombs had been cold this morning, now they have steam riding along the walls as the magma seeps down along the east side of the mountain. Inside the ancient structure the stone raining down has a texture like sea foam—”
And then, once again, alongside the narrator a squeaky mouse voice. A boy’s voice, overly excitable, and clearly holding back from an inborn impulse to rattle off the contents of the mind at a hundred miles an hour. Someone to listen is too good an opportunity to miss out on.
“I mean, this is some ‘real’ Temple-of-Doom-type stuff!” Again, the narrator’s young guide interjects with first-person authority, no lacking of gumption, and that adolescent high-pitch voice we’re starting to learn to tolerate.
Computer: “Ahem…Thank you, for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
Computer: “And might I add: the remarkable group of young explorers (where are the others, Aleon?) of the volcanic-temple trek has one thing going their way: It was a steady collapse. As far as horrible events go, it was really nice. They had ‘just’ enough time, just barely enough time to escape; they can make it if they really hustle.”

He waited for the others…

The ladder he had once used during the descent into the volcanic depths has now, inadvertently existing as a bridge. The two shadowy figures behind are catching up to him, children about the same age, his friends. The ladder, now a bridge, had gotten itself lodged in some boulders as the cave's ceiling first began to buckle. The boy in tan and green safari clothes grabs the damaged, marked-white steel of the ladder, pulling himself onto the makeshift bridge with a look on his face that made everything seem very real. But it is not.

Computer: “He is running full speed now, making his way across the ladder bridge, when—calamity strikes.”
It was you making the movements though, that felt so real…
Loading…
The escaping adventurer didn’t like the sound of that.

But it wasn’t real, and they were removed from all danger, and even discomfort, but the task at hand required real running…
Loading…
Computer: “And then–the group is met with a challenge.
“–without a moment’s hesitation.”

Computer: “Yes–another, not correction, but thoughtfully calculated interjection. And back in the simulation, the hero springs into action…”

Computer: "Without a moment's hesitation he is running at full speed towards the other side of the chasm. At first glance, the boy looks unsettlingly daring. He has oddly (though striking), strong-looking legs, for someone his age; like some Spartan runner delivering a message. “Yeah, and the majority of the stones are flaming bright; it's hard to see, and I can feel the heat radiating off them; I can smell the smoke too; its harsh and I think I can even feel my eyes watering..." the athleticism, particularly amidst the rumbling and of the fracturing stone pouring down from high above him. Aleon: "So anyways...it was providing quite a layering of threats to thwart my escape. But, I kept my head together." Computer: "Indeed he did."

The bridge collapses—
The virtual reality simulators used by the Asteroid society are NEAR ‘total immersion’–That was a project the Emerald programmers seek to take on. Temporarily induced amnesia, for a sort of total immersion simulation…but no, these things were not fruitful avenues in a political sense. If there is some way to manipulate the user into forgetting they were in a simulation–ahh! Now that would be the Holy Grail. We could really teach you then, anything we wanted…And as far as the Emerald programmer is concerned it is only a matter of time before this technique is discovered so they just lay back in a state of surrender to it.
Computer: “The ladder had become dislodged amidst the rumbling.”
nearly at the end of his stunt The boy is hurled from the bridge due to the current rumbling.
Computer: “The warranty was strictly for laddering purposes, and laddering purposes only. The manufacturers had intended a life of vertical assistance for it, and almost nothing was spoken in the legal print for any use as bridges, across rocky chasms…”
Aleon: “Err, umm, yes—”
Computer: “Although the manufacturer will not be held responsible, the boy survived the fall with the ladder-bridge. The fall wasn’t too far—he survives but is injured. The sharp rocks aren’t pleasant on his frail skin.
Aleon: “…what? Wait–“
Computer: “–and just then, a jagged piece of recently torn steel eviscerates his flesh.”
Loading…
Aleon: “Ackk!!!” He yells out at the sight of the wound, which before his eyes just digitally manifested upon his leg. It looks so real! Cursing himself under his breath for having trusted that bridge, he thinks: ‘Always read the fine print, when buying ladders.” Once again it didn’t hurt, but the sight is a little jarring… for a child’s video game.
But was this for a child? Or had the kids merely acquire a game from a teenager, maybe even one or two meant for an adult.
Wincing for only a moment, the boy heroically ventures on ahead. The right leg has an exposed wound on the top of the thigh, the arbitrary pattern in blood almost resembles something deliberate—like some ancient and forgotten runic symbol-language, marking a mistake and exacting some costly, bloody negligence.
AL: “The idea was to make everything as ‘realistic’ as possible, so you can understand why the chaos settings had been placed on ‘high’…
Computer: “Here, A bridge may ‘look’ like the obvious route, but appearances are deceptive when chaos is king.”
The boy: “You see, I knew it wasn’t ‘actually’ hurting me. I ‘know’ the sight of the gruesome wound triggers an adrenaline spike in my biological mind—and therefore the reaction ‘seems’ real. But I know. I know, however, this was a five-sense simulation—that’s one thing—seeing the event, feeling the cold winds of the cave and the heat of the rocks; to hear that horrible rumbling; to smell that building acrid smoke; the walls induce psychological by my vision, stress response while trapped amidst the closing volcano…can simulations such as these…kill the mind?
Computer: At the bottom of the cave, where fiery stones create a blurred atmosphere, he could still see two figures.

Others had fallen in. As was mentioned before, the chaos element had been raised significantly and there was no way to tell if this was another untrustworthy bridge. He would certainly like to think of himself as the person who would choose to save at least one of these unfortunate people, and He more-than-certainly would like the test to reflect as much for the records. His injuries have slowed his movement capabilities. He now had a choice: leave them both (they are decoys that will waste his time and lead to failure), or choose between them (which individual to save?).

---

‘Computer: "--Complexity of Organism not Sufficient--"”

Simulation #1: ‘Fish School” Aleon grabs at a swimming cluster of microbial cells, or at least attempts to. His large VR glove blurs within the air as he swipes at some invisible pixels in the empty, cold darkness. Selecting the cellular cluster, or rather the cluster of lights that represent the cellular cluster, a text prompt appears overhead. He has several options for interacting with the bubbling mass: he can choose to attack it, he can attempt to engulf the mass and, incorporating it into himself, grow larger, or he can simply run away from it. Attacking it would require that he secretes toxic chemicals from the inside wastes of his own organism by a coordinated method of rapid diffusion. This would probably deter the alien organism from coming closer. Aleon perceives no threat and decides to save the metabolic energy. Swimming his little cluster of cells away with water pumps, he moves his mouth pronouncing a phrase he had read, but makes no audible sound. He had never said the word out loud or heard it said: "Flagellar motors," he mouths, as he looks up its definition in a side window used for quick reference research (slender, threadlike structures that allow small organisms to swim).

Getting bored with the slow initial progress of the game he attempts to drag his colony of cells onto dry land.
An error prompt displays in front of him:
Computer: “–Complexity of Organism not Sufficient–“
AL: “I’ll need feet. Looks like we’re gigging to be here awhile…” he gathers to himself. So, for the time being, Aleon continued swimming about, checking out other bubbly clusters of proto-life that his classmates were controlling. Slowly, the forms of these creatures were becoming developed.
Each creature was becoming a little more personalized through greater complexities, and naturally, they were taking on the personalities of the student who was controlling it, and the trajectory of its evolution.
A man’s voice, the teacher, shatters the cold silence:
“Try to walk before you run.”
They were in a laboratory, of sorts, as well as a classroom. Here, the adults would experiment in new educational simulations with their children.
“How can I walk without feet!?”
The adult’s voice again, pipping in through the VR helmet: “Perhaps I’m being too literal. What I’m getting at is that you need to master the microscopic world before you make your way onto the terrestrial world.

” Let’s try to develop your ability to swim. Try to become faster, it will help you grow as you avoid your natural predators and consume your natural prey.”

Molly, Aleon’s sister, ... had big orange hair. Molly was clearly destined for the Ruby society... ... switched over to Emerald society to be with her brother, and to begin her adolescent education. He had followed his interests to Emerald, and by his assessment of his sister, he was glad that he hadn’t been brought up anywhere else. The Sapphire people fear over-exposure to the simulated worlds, which were so frivolously utilized by Emerald and Ruby societies. But some of them opt to have their kids at least educated there, to Emerald or if they have a lot of friends and compelled to go to Ruby… they have slightly different teaching philosophies for this age group, it’s generally about the same trajectories though. To be brief: one is generally geared toward sociability, and the other was simply a bit more studious. The teacher went on, knowing perfectly well how to deal with crossovers from Ruby: “You aren’t giving it a chance, Molly. Look: You’ve barely even moved your organism, what are some ways we talked about for little creatures to get around, hmm?" AL: "Primary objective: Try to understand your environment,— “Shut up, Al!”

I promise there will be much more to design later on in the game. Allow the game to dictate to you a little, so that in the future you can dictate a little more to it.”
“I don’t get it. I want to make my creature.” Molly insisted that the seven million years phase went on way too quickly, for her taste… The teacher sat at his observation desk. He can see what each individual student is doing from a conglomeration of computer screens connected directly to the simulation display of each student. “Everything is in some sort of context. find the natural harmony, the harmony in the medium, and a correct course of action will appear.”
After some time, the instructor lifted some more restrictions from the student’s simulated environments. The students were nearing the big-game fish level of development, and things were getting pleasantly competitive and stimulating. They chased each other around, testing out which was of them was hunting which.
The child suspended next to Aleon’s terminal was his oldest friend, and the two couldn’t be more different. Raeff was from Sapphire.
…has long white hair, a tan, healthy complexion, and is quite new to this world of simulation. He’d been tanned by their giant UV artificial light source technology. To say He is in awe of this experience would be a kind of ultimate understatement. Raeff grew up in Sapphire society, but he wasn’t aware of the politics of it. He didn’t know until a few years ago how the other wise had been living, and he found all the games and electronics fascinating. “It’s real neat.” Is probably some he might say about it. They had a real man-made sea there, in Sapphire, there was a few of them, and it was not simulated. Well, in a way it was, just not with any holograms or VR equipment interfacing. The Sapphire world is a world in tune with nature—believed necessary to human sanity; actual nature—and they try to maintain some sort of natural ‘purity.’ This is the Spartan philosophy known to the people of Sapphire as ‘the Arrow.’ It was a sort of initiatory step, to join the tribe.
The Sapphire people distrust over-exposure to the simulated worlds, which were so frivolously utilized by Emerald and Ruby societies. Knowing mainly hunting, fishing, filleting, navigating their physical bodies across the artificial coral mounds they run on, gutting, shelter assembly, navigation, depth diving, fighting, as you can see they are physical and in a very particular way. Raeff has a deep respect for what he can do with his own hands. To receive ‘the arrow,’ one must adequately live the simple, and yet profound, lifestyle for a significant amount of time, and certainly anyone could benefit from a refocusing on their fundamentals and movement.
However, unlike most of his community in Sapphire, Raeff found himself amazed by the “simulated” worlds. He had selected ‘Genie’ for his first term, but he had switched because of Aleon to Manticore, and for the same reason Molly had–because Aleon said to do it—but she at the last minute had switched back to her original idea and became a Genie. The Asteroid community seemed intent on keeping the trio together, so there they were. Molly had a slightly different schedule, but the were always hanging out together. People were extremely happy in Sapphire, they seemed sometimes like a different species, when they stepped back in to “dry land”. So, it was sometimes the case, that the majority of them would become oblivious to the outside worlds of ostentatious lights and sounds, and of their gratuitous practices that they didn’t have…
In the classroom, there was a great variety of forms for their creatures. The rather ludicrous variety of forms actually represented the creative wishes of each student, made into a real image to represent their imagined organism. In a way. It at least suggested something. The games are advanced, but they’re still not all-knowing. The instructor noticed that Molly was having some issues once the restrictions had been lifted. Her organism lay at the bottom of the ocean—some sort of pink flamingo-fish, bird-feathered but nowhere wings might be, whiskers three feet long, a mild addiction to sea cucumbers.
The species name: “Puddin’.”
“Molly, I see you’re having some difficulties…I’m sorry dear, but I don’t think ‘Pudding’ has quite made the cut. Also, I do want to condemn you for making those flippers look like cow boy boots–they really do.
“Thaaank you.”
“Even so, your ‘cowboy boots’ have cost the lives of countless generations of cucumbers to select for, and maybe it’s been a little extraneous–I don’t know. Why don’t you try and cooperate a little more with the game, dear, hmm?”
“Because I don’t want to do it your way, I want to do it MY way!” yelled the cranky young girl.
“Puddin’” had been her mechanism of sabotage. It had been her protest to the game overall. It was like the cherry on top of her argument.
“Progression can only happen under certain conditions, uhh–you have displayed degeneration.”
…
Though it wasn’t the most stimulating of the games they played, it beat the monotonous hand-written, chalk-board approach. Children seemed to crave the stimulation brought about by technology, almost like a drug. Sapphire had emerged as a response to this apparent dysfunction, and seeing no disfunction possible in nature, Ruby seemed to be a culture centered on a certain relenting to the oceans of lights and sounds. In Emerald, instead of water, it was oceans of t mind: and there had been a degree of balance between the two… I suppose… and the Emerald people would take brief “information diets,” which was a Sapphire-like trait, or play games and watch movies, which is more Ruby and where much of their time was spent in meditation, reflection, philosophy… rhetoric and philology, the girl was throwing a tantrum, now.

In response to the duration of this tantrum (and magnitude) her instructor had switched her terminal to the ‘off’ position. She was left there, suspended in darkness and silence and hanging in the air. She hangs from the cables while protesting her instructor’s decision, her rageful screams fading quickly at the presence of zero input stimulation, from maximal, and by violently kicking her legs and tossing a shoe from her foot. After realizing the futility of her tantrum, she just hangs there in silence awhile, and then honestly she’s okay again.
Swimming amongst the scene we see one student represented as an entire school of lime-colored fish. The school of fish moves together, as if aware of the overall plan. They behave as if directed by one singular consciousness—and they are. The fish has a blue stripe along the side, and it almost mimics the look of the wave-world in which it had been spawned, like a tiny little microcosm.
Another student sees in acres. Light green acres of plant-life originating from a single ancestor. The immortal plant is steadily still growing across the ocean floor it is has maintained dominance over… for half a millennia…
…who had been focusing on one of the main properties of the plant: the chlorophyll, and evolving a new mechanism of photosynthesis for which his chlorophyll has been mutated and enhanced.
The tall plants sway gracefully under the tidal movements.
A large puffer fish expands, swimming alone, and the utterly strained and uncomfortable look on its face makes the childrem smile.
A delicate seahorse, another lone creature, exists despite it all—and a shark feasts upon the A.I. directed fish and the student created organisms alike.
*In the future of this Natural Selection simulation, the sentient species on the planet may come to interact with certain…

…

---

… ‘Computer: "--Complexity of Organism not Sufficient--"”

Simulation #1: ‘Fish School” Aleon grabs at a swimming cluster of microbial cells, or at least attempts to. His large VR glove blurs within the air as he swipes at some invisible pixels in the empty, cold darkness. Selecting the cellular cluster, or rather the cluster of lights that represent the cellular cluster, a text prompt appears overhead. He has several options for interacting with the bubbling mass: he can choose to attack it, he can attempt to engulf the mass and, incorporating it into himself, grow larger, or he can simply run away from it. Attacking it would require that he secretes toxic chemicals from the inside wastes of his own organism by a coordinated method of rapid diffusion. This would probably deter the alien organism from coming closer. Aleon perceives no threat and decides to save the metabolic energy. Swimming his little cluster of cells away with water pumps, he moves his mouth pronouncing a phrase he had read, but makes no audible sound. He had never said the word out loud or heard it said: "Flagellar motors," he mouths, as he looks up its definition in a side window used for quick reference research (slender, threadlike structures that allow small organisms to swim).

Getting bored with the slow initial progress of the game he attempts to drag his colony of cells onto dry land.
An error prompt displays in front of him:
Computer: “–Complexity of Organism not Sufficient–“
AL: “I’ll need feet. Looks like we’re gigging to be here awhile…” he gathers to himself. So, for the time being, Aleon continued swimming about, checking out other bubbly clusters of proto-life that his classmates were controlling. Slowly, the forms of these creatures were becoming developed.
Each creature was becoming a little more personalized through greater complexities, and naturally, they were taking on the personalities of the student who was controlling it, and the trajectory of its evolution.
A man’s voice, the teacher, shatters the cold silence:
“Try to walk before you run.”
They were in a laboratory, of sorts, as well as a classroom. Here, the adults would experiment in new educational simulations with their children.
“How can I walk without feet!?”

The adult’s voice again, pipping in through the VR helmet: “Perhaps I’m being too literal. What I’m getting at is that you need to master the microscopic world before you make your way onto the terrestrial world.”

” Let’s try to develop your ability to swim. Try to become faster, it will help you grow as you avoid your natural predators and consume your natural prey.”

–
Molly, Aleon’s sister, … had big orange hair. Molly was clearly destined for the Ruby society…
… switched over to Emerald society to be with her brother, and to begin her adolescent education. He had followed his interests to Emerald, and by his assessment of his sister, he was glad that he hadn’t been brought up anywhere else.
The Sapphire people fear over-exposure to the simulated worlds, which were so frivolously utilized by Emerald and Ruby societies. But some of them opt to have their kids at least educated there, to Emerald or if they have a lot of friends and compelled to go to Ruby… they have slightly different teaching philosophies for this age group, it’s generally about the same trajectories though. To be brief: one is generally geared toward sociability, and the other was simply a bit more studious.
The teacher went on, knowing perfectly well how to deal with crossovers from Ruby: “You aren’t giving it a chance, Molly. Look: You’ve barely even moved your organism, what are some ways we talked about for little creatures to get around, hmm?”
AL: “Primary objective: Try to understand your environment,—
“Shut up, Al!”

I promise there will be much more to design later on in the game. Allow the game to dictate to you a little, so that in the future you can dictate a little more to it.”
“I don’t get it. I want to make my creature.” Molly insisted that the seven million years phase went on way too quickly, for her taste… The teacher sat at his observation desk. He can see what each individual student is doing from a conglomeration of computer screens connected directly to the simulation display of each student. “Everything is in some sort of context. find the natural harmony, the harmony in the medium, and a correct course of action will appear.”
After some time, the instructor lifted some more restrictions from the student’s simulated environments. The students were nearing the big-game fish level of development, and things were getting pleasantly competitive and stimulating. They chased each other around, testing out which was of them was hunting which.
The child suspended next to Aleon’s terminal was his oldest friend, and the two couldn’t be more different. Raeff was from Sapphire.
…has long white hair, a tan, healthy complexion, and is quite new to this world of simulation. He’d been tanned by their giant UV artificial light source technology. To say He is in awe of this experience would be a kind of ultimate understatement. Raeff grew up in Sapphire society, but he wasn’t aware of the politics of it. He didn’t know until a few years ago how the other wise had been living, and he found all the games and electronics fascinating. “It’s real neat.” Is probably some he might say about it. They had a real man-made sea there, in Sapphire, there was a few of them, and it was not simulated. Well, in a way it was, just not with any holograms or VR equipment interfacing. The Sapphire world is a world in tune with nature—believed necessary to human sanity; actual nature—and they try to maintain some sort of natural ‘purity.’ This is the Spartan philosophy known to the people of Sapphire as ‘the Arrow.’ It was a sort of initiatory step, to join the tribe.
The Sapphire people distrust over-exposure to the simulated worlds, which were so frivolously utilized by Emerald and Ruby societies. Knowing mainly hunting, fishing, filleting, navigating their physical bodies across the artificial coral mounds they run on, gutting, shelter assembly, navigation, depth diving, fighting, as you can see they are physical and in a very particular way. Raeff has a deep respect for what he can do with his own hands. To receive ‘the arrow,’ one must adequately live the simple, and yet profound, lifestyle for a significant amount of time, and certainly anyone could benefit from a refocusing on their fundamentals and movement.
However, unlike most of his community in Sapphire, Raeff found himself amazed by the “simulated” worlds. He had selected ‘Genie’ for his first term, but he had switched because of Aleon to Manticore, and for the same reason Molly had–because Aleon said to do it—but she at the last minute had switched back to her original idea and became a Genie. The Asteroid community seemed intent on keeping the trio together, so there they were. Molly had a slightly different schedule, but the were always hanging out together. People were extremely happy in Sapphire, they seemed sometimes like a different species, when they stepped back in to “dry land”. So, it was sometimes the case, that the majority of them would become oblivious to the outside worlds of ostentatious lights and sounds, and of their gratuitous practices that they didn’t have…
In the classroom, there was a great variety of forms for their creatures. The rather ludicrous variety of forms actually represented the creative wishes of each student, made into a real image to represent their imagined organism. In a way. It at least suggested something. The games are advanced, but they’re still not all-knowing. The instructor noticed that Molly was having some issues once the restrictions had been lifted. Her organism lay at the bottom of the ocean—some sort of pink flamingo-fish, bird-feathered but nowhere wings might be, whiskers three feet long, a mild addiction to sea cucumbers.
The species name: “Puddin’.”
“Molly, I see you’re having some difficulties…I’m sorry dear, but I don’t think ‘Pudding’ has quite made the cut. Also, I do want to condemn you for making those flippers look like cow boy boots–they really do.
“Thaaank you.”
“Even so, your ‘cowboy boots’ have cost the lives of countless generations of cucumbers to select for, and maybe it’s been a little extraneous–I don’t know. Why don’t you try and cooperate a little more with the game, dear, hmm?”
“Because I don’t want to do it your way, I want to do it MY way!” yelled the cranky young girl.
“Puddin’” had been her mechanism of sabotage. It had been her protest to the game overall. It was like the cherry on top of her argument.
“Progression can only happen under certain conditions, uhh–you have displayed degeneration.”

… Though it wasn’t the most stimulating of the games they played, it beat the monotonous hand-written, chalk-board approach. Children seemed to crave the stimulation brought about by technology, almost like a drug. Sapphire had emerged as a response to this apparent dysfunction, and seeing no disfunction possible in nature, Ruby seemed to be a culture centered on a certain relenting to the oceans of lights and sounds. In Emerald, instead of water, it was oceans of t mind: and there had been a degree of balance between the two… I suppose… and the Emerald people would take brief “information diets,” which was a Sapphire-like trait, or play games and watch movies, which is more Ruby and where much of their time was spent in meditation, reflection, philosophy… rhetoric and philology, the girl was throwing a tantrum, now.

In response to the duration of this tantrum (and magnitude) her instructor had switched her terminal to the ‘off’ position. She was left there, suspended in darkness and silence and hanging in the air. She hangs from the cables while protesting her instructor’s decision, her rageful screams fading quickly at the presence of zero input stimulation, from maximal, and by violently kicking her legs and tossing a shoe from her foot. After realizing the futility of her tantrum, she just hangs there in silence awhile, and then honestly she’s okay again.
Swimming amongst the scene we see one student represented as an entire school of lime-colored fish. The school of fish moves together, as if aware of the overall plan. They behave as if directed by one singular consciousness—and they are. The fish has a blue stripe along the side, and it almost mimics the look of the wave-world in which it had been spawned, like a tiny little microcosm.
Another student sees in acres. Light green acres of plant-life originating from a single ancestor. The immortal plant is steadily still growing across the ocean floor it is has maintained dominance over… for half a millennia…
…who had been focusing on one of the main properties of the plant: the chlorophyll, and evolving a new mechanism of photosynthesis for which his chlorophyll has been mutated and enhanced.
The tall plants sway gracefully under the tidal movements.
A large puffer fish expands, swimming alone, and the utterly strained and uncomfortable look on its face makes the childrem smile.
A delicate seahorse, another lone creature, exists despite it all—and a shark feasts upon the A.I. directed fish and the student created organisms alike.
*In the future of this Natural Selection simulation, the sentient species on the planet may come to interact with certain…
…

---



Frosty 2.
He is tired and cannot wait for retirement age.
Everything happened so quickly. In a quarter of a century civilization had undergone a growth-spike like they had never really anticipated, or, frankly, imagined. Industries and technologies exploded onto our planet with an effortless magnitude of power that no one had really wrapped their head around it, fully, of course, while it was happening. 

 I can’t say I blame them. It was all too big. 

 The emerging… whatever it was, their eschaton, was far too advanced when the world realized what it had undergone. Implemented, with the impossibility of really planning for it. We realized that no one really had ‘ever’ had any sort of a grip on it, no accounting of it, though maybe even they had thought they had…

‘The First Lunch Encounter’

Entering the restaurant…Frosty adjusts the collar of his itchy sweater. 

 He is sweating, a bit, under the neck–and his hair has visibly dampened.
He looks ordinary, but he felt ridiculous. It feels as though he is sticking out, everyone was looking at him somehow, in the entrance to the restaurant. Or were they?
The restaurant is dimly lit. There are well-dressed diners all around, and the place has an atmosphere of elegance. One of the women seated at the table near him is dressed in what is for her a casual regalia–but by anybody else’s standards.
The hostess of the restaurant approaches him.
So… it’s begun.
“Seating for four? Alright, then, please lead the way.”
…

 Then, once the emergent technological boon gets its legs swept out from under it, as the attack was of a nature primarily software encryptions, unfathomably complex computer manipulation, and a few strategic EMP assaults, but not many, resulting in a kind of global catastrophe, that wasn’t immediately honestly too deadly. The electrical grid had been improved, and it was far more localized power systems now, with each of the Towers supplying their own energy–it was mostly a problem for the people in the land in-between, and there was also a fragile satellite network. What momentum we had going for us was, from that point onward, altered entirely onto a new course, and the destiny of this little blue-green planet was to simmer just a bit longer… right as things were getting really exciting, too.

…
She was beaming. Women like her were always ‘beaming.’ He tries to remember the last time he himself had exercised, as she clearly does all the time; her mere presence anyone would be reminded of what good health is ‘supposed to’ look like… most of us had forgotten it.

 What it even looks like.
…

Perhaps things were getting too exciting.
Perhaps we were unlocking too much power.
They had chosen to invest their collective interests into one, centralized, world government…
It was a lot like the dinosaurs, like a return to…
…old habit.
…

Andrianna is always beaming–particularly through the eyes …
The vibrancy of this woman—and how it had not paled! Not at all since last he had witnessed her! Unreal…He thinks; he immediately thought the word ‘unreal,’ as if it was given to him. It was just like he thought: ‘beaming,’ earlier.


…

The Transport Craft Arrives. £

£
The boy, young officer, wants to become a Stratego.
Frosty explains to the transport officer how he is going to the Amazon rainforest next week.
****He describes many things, including…
…
He was doing it again.
…

 He didn’t ‘wish’ to feel this way, about her, not at all–the overwhelming love was like a tidal wave, it is of a hot energy, that’s probably why everyone sweats so much, it’s ‘messy’ and it takes you nearly entirely by surprise, that beauty has… power… how could one forget? And he is embarrassed to admit it but he is so consumed by his raw emotions–so rarely encountering them, so as if out of practice in it, that until just now, when he had been made to witness the reality of that glowing human being–that he finds himself utterly powerless, and in a loss for words.
Andrianna: “And how goes things in the ‘brains department,’ these days? Eh, Frosty? Got any got ‘intel’ for me? Still top of the class?”

…

Diatribe for today:
While Gordon Frosty waits for his transport craft he admires the view from the transit station which is located quite high up the tower. Looking out at the surrounding terrestrial view, most of the time this beauty might escape him. His security escort officer and shuttle craft should be arriving at any moment. Thick, translucent plastic doors lining the entire civilian shuttle bays are in theatre to the plexiglass wall of transparent window. There are a row of seats, per gate, much like you might find at a typical 20th century airport. The last few hours had been weird, for Frosty.
He still has many duties left to perform today, it wasn’t even mid-day! and he had had no time to process any of it. But whatever. There is a big event pressing upon his mind, one in which he must carry out to perfection, without a hiccup–so over all the scene that he had witnessed just earlier must be temporarily ignored, and, perhaps, impossibly.
But, whatever! Breaking his commitment to ignore the situation, he went on:
Holding a rather large cup of coffee in his hand, he sat there stupefied in thought, staring off blankly, his face a classic straight man’s deadpan.
He sat down in his chair and as about twenty minutes go by Frosty’s seat cushion has become fully indented; he’ settled in, and aiming to getting things done. As he adjusts his slightly greasy hair with sweaty fingers, a little sweat beaded up on the old forehead, fat, there, typing and typing on his HUD–typing and typing, fingers through the air, breaking the silence in the terminus chamber with spidery little trigger-selections. tap-tap-tap-tap
“Nothing feels quite like crossing a line through your to-do list!” He says to himself; nobody else hears it…

Frosty couldn’t elaborate further, but … This massive filtration system utilizes the suction achieved for this primary function to use in its secondary function. On the other side of these towers. It’s primary function had something to do with the secondary function, but every time he tried explaining it it sounded like the secondary function ‘was’ the primary function, and it was so quickly made clear that he didn’t really know what he was talking about.

…and being so close to the center of all this rapid development–the accelerated growth ****…word?
**In congruence *
his need to get away from it all.****
…
He allows his joy at seeing her overflow his shallow self-pity, and the black moment passes. 

 She was referencing, by the phrase ‘brains department,’ which he didn’t fail to miss the praise there, the profession of the UE Strategos… who work the… information networks, and who… are like tailors… only to the cloth of ignorance, banality, gossip, a black, deceptive cloth, and often by utilizing one well-placed, ‘tactical deceit,’ something… undetectable, one in the information and spy networks one can surely arrange to gain anything one would like to have. Anything at all. 

 Shakily, pulling out his chair from the table and smiling, daintily, (at the blonde-haired beauty), he didn’t think he would be reduced to such an infantile state… it feels so pathetic! by such an ‘Earthly’ beauty. People are calling him an accomplished older man…but here he is rendered powerless, like a squemish child! 

 “Oh, you know, nothing my ‘genius’ can’t handle…” 

 One of Frosty’s eyes had bent into a sharp angle, and the sharp feature conveyed, or hoped to convey, a playful non-seriousness. He never asked to be taken seriously. He was generous to others, like that. He had even as far back as gradeschool ‘allowed’ himself to be been made the butt of the joke… but when he ‘was’ being serious you will know… because he doesn’t handle anger well. She laughs at her plump, little funny ‘dinner date’, the little man was always getting back into his character, the satyr, with all of its egregious delivery. It was comforting, because it was something stable. His performative personality is refreshing, actually. She is glad her laughing helps him relax some…he’s always so ‘on edge’. “Elite,” Gordon thought to himself, surmising that it is probably due to her military garb. As also maybe a tool by which to use against her… if need be… he shakes the old thoughts from his head. Always seeking to leverage power. That’s a government job for you. She has the posture of a soldier, or at least an athlete, but all the femininity she might require to make her absolutely attractive to the opposite sex is only exponentially elevated.
“I’m so glad you were able to make a little time for old friends.”

…

Gordon’s charge to keep himself from not thinking about yesterday’s events help him, briefly, in not thinking at all…
…and he gently dozes off…
…And then again…That state of Paradise… is…
Time to wake up! Something’s happening–
Frosty’s head jerks to awaken suddenly, …

 Now Gordon Frosty’s transportation arrives, and a young man, clearly a rookie, appears to be his escort within the pod-ride. He’s a new face–out of the ordinary. “Where you headed?”

 “A few errands, in the outer city. Then a lunch date.”
The security officer has a kind face. He seems confident enough, but not austere, and surely beams within his brand new uniform. His hair is well styled, and it is apparent that he is excited about his new position. “Yes, I plan to review some procedures with you before arriving… if you don’t mind, for your safety and security…” 

 Frosty was off to oversee the import crew of all primary shipping-fleet cadres under his supervision; he will then be double-checking some of the living facilities, for the labor-force, and then highlighting some important…"Honestly, sir, I don't really follow politics..." "Well how do you find yourself in the government's employ, aye, my boy?!" "I suppose I just wanted... to do my service to society, is all. Whatever they would ask of me. We've got a lot of service members in our family." "And... you are society's reward. What a generous soul... now, come along, we must get going. Shall we unlatch the vehicle's restraints, and speak more of your past... and tell me how you've gotten here, lad, what are some of your lesser ambitions in life?"


…

 Frosty: “Adobe seems the only place with any goals to actually better the lot of the lives… of its inhabitants. The Adobe Tower is perhaps the most ‘down to Earth’ of the Towers. So to say. It is simple in its function, for housing mankind from the rain–from the elements, in a manner of speaking.”
“And we’ve got the best baseball team.” 
 Youth, reflects Frosty, is a time where even the dullest things are invigorated with fresh passion.


The transport-pod they take is free of the rib-cage tether of the Adobe Tower. They will be seperated from the inner transportation structures–the helix, and these flying crafts are typically operated solely by UE officers. There are many types of flight crafts in the world now, The airspace is restricted in that way. The young officer didn’t need to strain much, anyways, to fly one of them. The flight software was now all so intuitive, and easy, operations are virtually second nature.

The successes of the Empire gave the people their shelter, their food; it brought them clean air, humidity again, which gave retained water, and finally, even their sexual potency was advanced through the explosive knowledge of newly indigenous plant life (and of course on the old as well). But not just that, just first in importance, beyond that all of medicine has been improved. Outside of sex and medicine… there’s military application, and some of the compounds can be used to make weapons. The result of these great terra-forming machines was that knowledge of plant-life has becomeb highly valued, due to a few major discoveries. It had practical value once again, but this time explicitly. Knowledge, of naturally occurring dangers within the rain forest, spreading now outside the bounds of South America and even into North America. Africe and Asia are also now covered in much more mileage of rain forest. Now its jungles are home to millions, maybe hundreds of millions, and the functioning there of tribal-based communities, arrising amongst the chaotic explosion of new life, and of simple hunter-gatherers, people re-learning how to live, and a relationship with nature, and new wisdoms combine with the old–of the vegetable world–where to re-assert its importance it has provided wonders and miracles, undeniable, and mankind in the monumental shadow of the plantworld was becoming showered by gifts, and they give their honors to sweetest Providence.

 They finally see… their plant-allies are their best allies, in many ways…
Ample wealth, as well as ample new poverty, can be expected amidst the rigorous new growth. Form and systemization was settling down, not far behind, but still there was still some catch up to be made. The excesses of the jungle mirror the excesses of the Empire. And so do their succcesses. The burgeouning new life was an enormous success. These fringe societies, who live under the protection of the UE Empire but not inside of it, largely outside the Dominion and by their own rules and customs. They police themselves. If the propblem leaks out, they deal with it. There is a rampant drug trade. There are cartels. There are sometimes a handful of terrorists. Deep in the jungle depths there are militias. 

…

 “How can you so easily tell?” The young man manages to work up a smile. 

 “Oh, just your youth is all.” … “And your uniform is a little too pristine.” Frosty then posed, regally, like a dominar, professing aloud: “What you see before you is the look of a seasoned officer of the UE Administrative forces. The finest in paper work.” Frosty pushed out his belly, and the leather of his belt audibly creaked under the strain. “An Office jockey–of the highest caliber!”
“Despite the added weight… sir, I believe today’s transport pod can accommodate you–to the shipping bay areas, since they’re not that far off.”
…
On the whole things are rather civil because of this autonomy allowed from the UE. Early governments were shaky, after the global catastrophe. There are constant areas of violence, upheaval and unrest–for certain. But now there was massive development, as we had retained all of our data, stored upon the internet. The internet had of course changed, but the data there, if the data banks had been restored, is all still accessable. We had technical knowledge of a myriad of forms. All human knowledge was basically still available to us, and so we have fastly advanced… from our own little Dark Ages. “There is no perfection in Nature, unless you take it with all its flies and find the perfection in that.”

…
… ‘back then,’…there weren’t any petty finances to worry over–like he worries so much over; no rent to pay by any deadlines–but there were other sorts of deadlines–and no tax season, no confusing paperwork back then–No. There was instead a different sort of savagery…
There was the rule of tooth and claw–was it the ‘natural law?!’ He wasn’t so sure. But maybe it was something more real. And was there any notion, back then, of a dominating eye always watching over you–unless it is that one hidden in the bushes that you could only miss by thinking about ‘anything’ other than getting the hell out of there–and as something simple enough to manage if you had a large enough claw…


…

‘The Nation of the 16 Towers’ 

Within the Empire there has been a degree of freedom permitted, but this came at the loss of certain privileges that are afforded only to those citizens existing within one of the Sixteen Towers, or one of the dominions under their control. The registered, voting, and tax-paying citizens are willing to give up the freedoms required. And that, for once, is considered b…
A majority of these cities on Earth survive, largely, by eating the scraps of the Towers and their surrounding townships, both in supply chain, and their superiority in such established realms, and economically, as they all now use the same currency… industrially on scale and even slowly the culture has more or less began to cohere together. With the planet restored from a place of possible annihilation, the people on Earth could reinvest their interests. The first towers ensured that the planet will reclaim its lungs, producing spore-transmitter systems **** The Two Towers at the southern end of South America, and Africa has this as well, utilize a gigantic filtration system to remove CO2 from the air. Most of the vertical square-footage of the tower is occupied to serve this function. Along the perimeter of these filtration systems is a parallel vertical line of solar panels. In combination, these two systems mimic photosynthesis—providing energy as well as clean oxygen. (the side with little day-time sun exposure) this vertical-running perimeter is lined with, not solar panels, but cutting edge technology, which can distribute thousands of varieties of spore colonies into the lower atmosphere, staying low to the ground like a fog as it glides across the land, seeding new trees, and plant life—on a global scale. Accelerates are used, and then the springing to life of the enzymatic terraforming system humanity has come together to develop is off to the races.
The planet could once again support all of its inhabitants with what is now hundreds of miles of lush new rainforest.

…

*pasted.
The Rainforest

The Phoenix-borne are leaders of men, emerging in the third decade of the second millennia (2030-2040*maybe), and seeking to succeed where others had failed, time-and-time again…

At least that’s how they explained it.

Propaganda. This man-induced production, of lush rainforest is an example of a process called ‘terra-forming,’ or ‘world-shaping.’ It is a solution to an issue of global scale. It brought the shadows back to Earth.
This process is an on-going one: across all of the decimated landscapes of Planet Earth. Here, in particular, is the ingratiation of the UE’s interests most aparent, a pandemonium fortress inside the wild Amazon… as volatile and unwieldy an arrangement as an invading Imperialist and Colonist has ever known. Despite mankind’s collective and limitless imagination, this notion seems to falter. It eludes the human mind, in conceptual understanding and in defining it accurately has been denied to us. It is as if by some un-named force of Nature who has moved us, who holds us back, too, from treading out too far, swimming out to sea we are their child and we may be drowned, and we have this ‘paradox of paradise,’ where Earth must puch back upon man–that he may know he is alive. That he know about the reality of Life around him.
Going as far south as you can get, on the South American and South African continents, below Asia and Australia, in this decade during the Phoenix’ rise to power, there were constructed two monolithic towers at the continental base–which were gigantic machines, as we’ve outlined, designed also to house civilians, and provide the shops and centers that would be required for mankind, as well as surrounded by small villages and settlements, which the Tower’s military defended. *maybe: During their construction in the ten-year span between 2030 and 2040, the entire landscape of the planet would soon become radically altered. These pairings of towers at the base of the continents, operated by the seeding scientists, a specialized University dedicated to the Amazon which is basically the preeminent University of the world at this point, quickly yet effectively establishes the enormous project.

…

The Phoenix had started its ascension. While the government, later to be dubbed the Phoenix administration, regime, had overseen the cultivation of the New Rainforest, saw to it that it be re-grown, some men had gathered and they sheltered them, took many men under their wing, and while the rainforests artificially explode due to mankind’s comprehensive effort, the men and women who had come together to heal the whole planet, once and for all, thought the idea up and started to win more elections. 

Now, the Phoenix Government was sky-rocketing.

The popularity, and the political cohesion was unprecedented. It was indeed in many ways a Golden age. These great Monolithic Towers, achievements of science and engineering unto themselves, the greatest technology for a Super Power since the Atom Bomb, were not erected all at once, mind you, it was a process, but astonishingly quickly all of the new building techniques and available resources helped in the arising of the most important structural foundation was stable and completed

construction and the first two were operating within the seventh year of that decade. The Towers continued in their development, and are now the pride of the Empire. It has been an undisputed victory for the President, and the Phoenix-Borne administration.

The President’s rally was a call to that ancient mythos, of a resurrected fire-bird, risen from the ashes of its own demise, and perpetually useful as a symbol of re-birth for the mind—potent, promising, and promoting that mirage of a grand Utopian effort: or was it always a mirage, are we that cynical, where we can’t even imagine a resurrection–a fire bird up from a pile of utterly smoldering ashes… this great red light, oranges and vibrance which may admittedly be only what glares of fiery feathers to seduce the hearts of men, perhaps, into worshipful yoking, of the ancient old comfort of being under the wing—the comfots of the fiery old wings, protection offered by the resurrected fire bird.

…

Later that day…
Frosty’s speech trails off in deep thought.
“How odd? What could be wrong?” Switching off his spreadsheets and video conference calls, Frosty sat back in his chair, shutting his eye-lids and switching on some calming music. There is some faint quality, a vacancy in his heart propelling him into staying bull-headedly committed to…
“This planet was wild once,” he thinks.
Frosty considers how wild it’s gotten; wild once again…” and for this brief moment, perhaps, it is the final chance it has got, for wildness once again…’

…

 He had dozed off, but he was awake again. His shuttlecraft today has seemingly failed to arrive. 

 But Frosty couldn’t get those images out of his head. Those dinosaurs. It was real: so what did they mean? What were they meant to invoke (*evoke?) in him?
He was still resisting it, trying to play it off like the fantasy it seemed like it was. That the simple charge he had placed on himself, that small speck of self-discipline he had mustered, or had hoped to have mustered, at last, simply not to think–‘not think’–about that thiiiing’–DON’T MENTION IT–even to yourself, and that thing that happened earlier just ignore it… Trying to wish it was a daydream, it was still the object of his mind. But it was not an illusion.

 It was a hijacking of his retinal-lense user interface… His ‘heads up display.’ He even tested it with the available empirical methodology, and troubleshooting, all he could muster, and it held up to the scientific hammer bangs, and being beaten against a table, even, but at any rate, he could have gotten a third-person perspective, yes… an outsider’s opinion… and what he should have done is he should have gotten a third person perspective… and he didn’t… and that was his primary mistake. Then, he could have planned for the future better, or he could have verified it. But–instead, no one will believe him. He’s alone. 

…
…

Aedile (Latin: Aedilis, from ‘aedes’, “temple building”) 

”… was an office of the Roman Republic. Based in Rome, the ‘aediles’ were responsible for maintenance of public buildings (‘aedēs’) and regulation of public festivals. They also had powers to enforce public order. The ‘plebeian’ aediles were created in the same year as the Tribunes of the People (494 BC). Originally intended as assistants to the tribunes, they guarded the rights of the plebs with respect to their headquarters, the Temple of Ceres. Subsequently, they assumed responsibility for maintenance of the city’s buildings as a whole. Their duties at first were simply ministerial. They were the assistants to the tribunes in whatever matters that the tribunes might entrust to them, although most matters with which they were entrusted were of minimal importance.” -Wiki

…

‘Return to the Dinner Date’
She was reaching out to him because of his elevated position in Adobe Tower.
She was the soldier, coming here and requesting aid from the trenches, and he was a commanding officer. She had grit, and he had gavel. 

 It was now apparent that this was at the root of the meeting, but a few places remained to be outlined.

 Gordon: “Oh me? I’ve been keeping just fine. Thanks for asking.” Through blanketing the population with their dis-information campaigns, the Strategos weave their wares into the fabric across all thinkable communication mediums, … they coordinate and influence by various political tv shows, …. etc. 
… by which each accomplishment by an agent of the brotherhood may, in turn, help themselves move along within the Phoenix-borne…
Responding to her pleasantries Frosty fills in the silence with talk—in ‘this’ he is well practiced. Although his skills are perhaps a bit rusty.
Andrianna smiles, showing her excitement at seeing him. Her excitement is contagious, and Frosty loses himself, in a moment that ‘she’ has masterfully manufactured.

… (the whole dinner)

“What? A ‘kid’-napping? Who’s kid was kidnapped, again?!”
“It’s not been publicized yet…but I’ve discovered that… my family is involved, too. And so, I need to keep a low profile here with you, Frost.”

 Frosty sits back in his chair. The night was coming to a close, and apparently his guest was coming around to her objective for the evening. His beautiful dinner guest, Andrianna, was about to fill him in, perhaps on why she had invited him out tonight. Strategos love to trip a story up, and although Frosty is different, it often seems they can’t help it. They are logic masters, and this sometimes will over-ride their ‘pleasant’ behavior. Using their calculating prowess, in order to play games, during a trial for instance, sometimes they can greatly sway an outcome. Although the Stratego focus more internally, now, cultivating the direct population into an ever more obedient herd, and transmuting from the frustrating impotence the people can’t help but feel, into the blanketed identity–of the unified Will of the people–sounds good, but that still means everybody’s carving out a corner for themselves, and within the new Empire, like all the old Empires, the men and women are too tired at the end of the day to fight them in their obsessions any longer… Sitting back, then, smelling into the glass. She looks as in disbelief, horror, and disgust–by the smell of the wine; she swirls her own glass, drinking it anyways, putting on a face, in imitation, and the two catch eyes: he says, sand laughing once again he is susceptible to flattery: “oh you are fun, aren’t you?!”
Frosty has identified the purposive attempt at brevity, and immediately appreciates it. He smiles and casts a know gaze straight across the room at her. She smiles, with just a hint of that devious eye that pretends to respond like-in-kind to like… “You are a little ‘bad’ too…aren’t you?”
He responds the kindness by helping her transition over, smoothly. He will hear her out, for now, although as a deconstructionist by trade he will surely tirelessly seek to deduce–
Gordon: “Well I’m glad you weren’t making this a date…I’m actually happy you invited some friends…it might ease all of this sexual tension I’m feeling…” A hopeful glance. “Okay, forget about that, I was just kidding…” Her laugh is revealing, however. Gordon deconstructs the laugh, on habit, and it betrays another undertone: nerves. There is something going on here which absolutely ‘must’ go ‘right.’ According to the plan...what's your plan? I see now that this is a mere padding conversation, tactically they are getting their ’feelers’ out on me, you might say, in order to insulate things...no: she will not make her true request during ‘this’ encounter. This was the intel gathering mission, to make him more malleable for her by, surely, meticulously reviewing their actions tonight in this restaurant... A worthy adversary, here.

But why an adversary? Andrianna is a friend, and could become…more, than just an old acquaintance. I don’t think she would intentionally wrap me up in anything she thought I couldn’t handle…but now I feel a duty to see what it is she has become entangled in, and see if there isn’t something I can do to unravel any nefarious turmoil which we may yet prevent, together…

[When Transport picks him up from lunch-turned-into dinner?]

…


Future…

At a dinner party, the recent heroes are acknowledged for their service to the State. A ballroom, Frosty is recognized for his swift-work in handling the kidnapping case. He speaks with Andrianna aside from the party, the pilot friend shows up. The pilot friend is charming, he’s masculine but friendly and laid back. He has a goatee, and athletic appearance. Frosty was good friends with him, but always got a little bit jealous when girls were around. He found his outward attractions were too closely mixed with inner attraction, which frosty held as his own strongest attribute. The two flirted a bit, Frosty kept up all pleasantries. The two talk about a high-ranking commander. Frosty is unfamiliar with him, and finds it odd that these two happen to know of his exploits. Andrianna promises a meeting between him and Frosty, as soon as possible.
Frosty goes from his Adobe tower, to the Victorian tower. The Victorian tower is what you would imagine with that name. More whites and blacks. Frosty is transported to the tower. The two men driving the cruiser joke about how the rumor going around was that the child was in fact not the legitimate son to a high-ranking Statesman, but born from his mentally handicapped brother, and that the state had suppressed all knowledge of this brother to avoid embarrassment. This way they could execute the brother, deleting all record of him, as well as legitimizing the Stateman’s family with the voters, and creating a universal sympathy with him. When and if he was reunited with his son, the media would inevitably have a field day, and the coverage would be too great to pass up. This was, however, decided AFTER the child had been kidnapped, so the brother really did break in to reclaim his lost son. The drone dispatched by Frosty had been told to eliminate this man on sight. Frosty had helped him. They thought they could rescue the child and save the man for a fair trial, but there were other motives at work. Someone wanted him dead.
To find the kid, Frosty contacts two of his agents in the field.
-Coolridge? Frosty.
Coolridge woke up in his motel room. It was still dark out. He lit a cigarette.
-Frosty… it’s the middle of the night…
-Duty calls, amigo.
-Have any idea what time it is on the West coast, Frost? Ah, I’m up.
-Is Draggis with you?
-Coolridge and Draggis, at your service.
-The best in the business, no doubt about that. I need you guys working a case, asap.
The sheets and cover on the twin bed next to Coolridge began to rustle around. A blonde head poked out with hair in an unintentional pomp, of what appeared to be a thick orange mop. He was young, probably still a teenager, and Coolridge must be in his late fifties. He doesn’t look it though. Coolridge looks like his body was designed to throw rocks. His big blonde moustache, and well combed hair, were a matching orange, oddly, and he put on thick square glasses. There were some aspirin pills beside his bed, he chugged them down with some water. He was wondering what issue would be so urgent to call at this hour, then again, maybe Frosty didn’t realize they were on the West Coast.
-I’ve got to have the best team there is for this one. Missing kid, an infant. It may be some political ploy—I need this carried out quietly.
-This kid… is this the same kid from the News? That Statesman’s kid?
-The very same. I need this to be carried out, and carried out tactfully. I need you to track him down for me, before any others find him, I need to speak to him. It’s important that you find him, and immediately report back to me.
Frosty pulled up some files on his Sortie desk. He was still on the line with Coolridge and was accessing the tower’s data logs for information regarding the lost child. He sent the entire file after a quick glance-through.
-This is all the information we’ve got. Anything attained in-field has been picked apart by our intel department. You should have enough here to go by. I know you’ve worked with less.
Another head popped out from the twin bed that was next to Coolridge. It was an attractive tan girl, probably a local Draggis had picked up for the night. There’s just something about those west coast girls.
-Man, you two really are close.
-Don’t get me started man.
Coolridge hung up the telephone.

…

-end-