New Worlds

Flagstone Road

This little snippet is a continuation of a thread I did on Ficlets.com that I kind of meant to be sort of a post-singularity livejournal or similar personal blog.




This will be continued here as well as on ficlets, and I will archive the whole thing here once I get everything tied together.





A New World


It is always something like waking up and something like falling asleep.


When unfettered by the limits imposed by the need for oxygen and food one generally feels more… of everything. But the lack of filters and exponential increase in communication and sensing speed do not necessarily mean that one is getting everything one needs.


So the part of the Self that can calculate the number and trajectory of interstellar particles colliding with it's skin at any given time goes to sleep.


And the part that needs to feel skin against skin, to taste sweet curry with fried tofu, to watch the stars wheel overhead, to hear the squeal of an analog synth, to smell the tobacco of a lover's breath – that part wakes up.


Geis cracked open his incubation pod, the clear amniotic liquid that his body grew in pouring out onto the flagstones of an ancient road.


As soon as the coughing fit abated and his lungs grew accustomed to taking oxygen out of the air, he pulled his costume from the assembler capsules. It was a simple set of brown slacks, vest, white work shirt and a dark silk tie printed with an excerpt from a 15th century calligraphic manual. The finishing touch, a matching bowler hat, came from the last nodule on the side of the pod.


Straightening his hat, Geis set down towards the village he had just finished bringing into existence. His guests would be arriving shortly.

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