State: Texas
Country: United States
Sex: Male

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July 2007

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2003-2004 by the Alien Assault Traders developers. All rights reserved.


When Sadie prodded her for the reason behind her discontent, she went into a rambling discourse on Newton's Opticks, a five-hundred year-old treatise written by a closeted religious zealot and brilliant natural philosopher.

Here was a being who couldn't possibly fathom their way of life or even the nature of their existences, but had teased out basic laws and facts about the universe that still influenced his descendents today. He lived on a tiny planet, under threat of death by raging wars and disease. But this individual, virtually a caveman, had scratched marks on his dead tree slabs that still had value.

She asked, "What is my place in this vast universe?" They swam in the aether like whales once did in the oceans of Newton's Earth -- a bywater historical park in this age, standing watch over its strange brethren and progeny like the abandoned sphinxes of Egypt.

Sadie came to realize that, to her sister, this power and freedom still seemed meaningless without the kind of lasting importance that Newton had attained. They were really no closer to answering it than those Cro-Magnons that had scribbled ochre on the caves at Lascaux, when homo sapiens was in its infancy.

Post Date: Jul 10, 2007 - 5:53 am


Wisps of data crept up bio-optic tendrils, alighting on her neurons. She smelled starfire light-years distant, faint like a scent almost forgotten. Layers of quantum circuitry carried blizzards of sensation, piling up in drifts only to be sloughed off by pruning algorithms.

Maneuvering her prosthetic hull through these deep holes, branch by branch, gnawed at those base urges still hardwired into her wetware. Products of eons of evolution, they would not be placated nor denied. She longed for home, for security; she longed for her tribe and mate. Deep beneath the dreamlike dataflow, her primate urges for belonging and comfort needled her on past stars, hubs of commerce, minor outposts, and minefields.

Off in the distance, dozens of parsecs off her starboard turrets, a wing of fightercraft scoured the sector for fresh blood, welcoming her back to her people in their peculiar way.

Post Date: Jul 10, 2007 - 4:50 am
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