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[Progrez]

^ What's up with these posts? It feels like I am reading a novel.

I have failed therefore I have succeeded.

 

[Arnoud]

 

[Jetflag]

"What," I said, with confusion fat, "the holy fucking shit was that?"

And off we lifted over the beach, up once again into the wind's reach.

"Look," he said, "True, they're all one century, but since we live at least nine in these enlightened times, they are but teenagers still. Aging is a relative thing. It wasn't long after life extension was perfected we noticed that the older one dares to grow,

the more they prefer the company of those in years close to theirs they know. That is why each age lives on its own isle. You would have little of importance to say to a child, such is the gap ten times wider with us. So there it is."

I said, "'So there it is. Why, my grandfather liked that phrase also." "That may be," said he, "and yet your grandfather is not me."

 

[Progrez]

"What," I said, with confusion fat, "the holy fucking shit was that?"

And off we lifted over the beach, up once again into the wind's reach.

"Look," he said, "True, they're all one century, but since we live at least nine in these enlightened times, they are but teenagers still. Aging is a relative thing. It wasn't long after life extension was perfected we noticed that the older one dares to grow,

the more they prefer the company of those in years close to theirs they know. That is why each age lives on its own isle. You would have little of importance to say to a child, such is the gap ten times wider with us. So there it is."

I said, "'So there it is. Why, my grandfather liked that phrase also." "That may be," said he, "and yet your grandfather is not me."

What’s the problem?” Sheppard said. He couldn’t be too worried if he’d brought along his drink. Soft drinks were rare in Atlantis, since they had to be brought from Earth, and though they’d laid in a limited supply it could be expected to run out soon. Sheppard was unwilling to abandon his short of murder and mayhem. Beckett smiled ruefully. For all their differences of background and skills, he had developed a considerable respect for Sheppard in their years of working together, a respect he thought was mutual. “Sorry to take you from your dinner. I’ve got an anomaly I can’t pin down.” He sat up, letting the chair come upright, the sticky interfaces disengaging from his fingertips. “It feels like a wobble. You know. When you’ve got a tire about to go.” Sheppard frowned and put his drink down on the edge of the platform. “Ok. Let’s have a look,” he said with the air of a man about to look under a friend’s hood. Beckett stood up, catching himself for a moment on the arm of the chair.


It always felt very strange to settle back into his mere physical body after some time in the interface. Sheppard slid into the chair and leaned back, his eyes closing as the interfaces engaged, the chair lighting around him as power flowed, a profound expression of peace on his face. Beckett knew better than to interrupt. Sheppard’s fingers twitched lightly in the interface, then stilled. He would be diving into it now, the pathways of the city’s circuits and cables mirroring the neural pathways of his mind. Done right, impulses flowed like thoughts, data streaming effortlessly into easy interpretations. Beckett usually did not find it quite that simple. Practice and diligence had made him a competent pilot for the city, but he had never quite gotten the knack of thinking in three dimensions, of visualizing so many moving points completely. He wasn’t a pilot. He was a medical doctor who through some trick of genetics had the particular piece of code that the city responded to. Sheppard was in his twentieth year in the Air Force, a man whose natural talents ran this way, honed by years of experience in high speed aircraft. He could get a lot more out of the interface than Beckett could.

Never thought I would see John Abruzzi in a commercial.

 

[Jetflag]

And following his dead end boon, I set eyes upon the fractured moon. I said, "Our pale lady of the night is not looking quite right. What happened to her?"

"The Fall," he called. "Why, the world wasn't always such a peaceable place; we once used to play war to keep score."

"How does one blow up a moon?"

"By being smart enough to build technology that can do so, and simultaneously stupid enough to use it. Not too long from now pieces of her will fall to the ground and if any of us are still around by then

the air will turn deathly and for sure no living thing will endure. Save for those living beneath the sea…."

"Like me," I said, "and what will everyone still above the sea do instead?"

He said, "We've another destination in mind, where we might start over sensibly this time.

"With a squint I call sight just slight of rising constructs in the far, spires and towers for a crown, sure the mark of a city or town.