Clouds of Sol
Slowly, inexorably the fog orbited the nodal thought clouds already considering the many questions plaguing the forum. The fog, an efficient mix of a dozen other smaller clouds, had temporarily joined to address the problems associated with the biological existence.
The forum itself orbited the fading red giant known once as Sol, and was now concerning itself with the small collective of organics still living on the terraformed world called Titan.
“I must be separate,” came a pattern through the smaller fog pattern. The Cloud folded and swirled. A pattern developed, separated itself from the larger form and resolved itself into a small cloud taking up an orbit around the forum.
Tercium, once known as Balthus, once known as David, pulled all his memories and thoughts from the cloud, refusing its communcal comforts. “How can the forum understand the plight of our biological ancestors without, at the very least, adopting singular awarenesses?”
The Forum bristled. This was unacceptable. Still, it was always Tercium who broke free. Always Tercium who disrupted the Forum. The singularity of the Forum had consider, time and again, the possibility of absorbing Tercium into the larger past memory fields preserved in the Forum’s larger utility cloud. “If you want to be a biological, why don’t you simple surrender to the memory fields. You could exist as the form you so admire.”
The criticism hurt Tercium, hurt him deeply. The Forum was nearly a million years old, and was the sum of existence for this small corner of the universe. But the Forum had long since lost its perspective. It was God without omniscience, despite it’s access to all human memory.
“Human?” The word echoed in Tercium’s cloud forms. That is why I still persist; the idea of humanity. The knowledge he was once, so many aeons ago, had been human. But that wasn’t why he clinged to his individuality. There was a single memory he refused to share, refused to relinquish for all the knowledge of the universe. He pulled the memory from his larger cloud form again and allowed it to spiral toward his nexus.
The first thing, maybe the only thing he would remember was her smell. The mixture of roses and cinammon. She wore a variety of perfumes, but that gentle scent was always present.
The forum itself orbited the fading red giant known once as Sol, and was now concerning itself with the small collective of organics still living on the terraformed world called Titan.
“I must be separate,” came a pattern through the smaller fog pattern. The Cloud folded and swirled. A pattern developed, separated itself from the larger form and resolved itself into a small cloud taking up an orbit around the forum.
Tercium, once known as Balthus, once known as David, pulled all his memories and thoughts from the cloud, refusing its communcal comforts. “How can the forum understand the plight of our biological ancestors without, at the very least, adopting singular awarenesses?”
The Forum bristled. This was unacceptable. Still, it was always Tercium who broke free. Always Tercium who disrupted the Forum. The singularity of the Forum had consider, time and again, the possibility of absorbing Tercium into the larger past memory fields preserved in the Forum’s larger utility cloud. “If you want to be a biological, why don’t you simple surrender to the memory fields. You could exist as the form you so admire.”
The criticism hurt Tercium, hurt him deeply. The Forum was nearly a million years old, and was the sum of existence for this small corner of the universe. But the Forum had long since lost its perspective. It was God without omniscience, despite it’s access to all human memory.
“Human?” The word echoed in Tercium’s cloud forms. That is why I still persist; the idea of humanity. The knowledge he was once, so many aeons ago, had been human. But that wasn’t why he clinged to his individuality. There was a single memory he refused to share, refused to relinquish for all the knowledge of the universe. He pulled the memory from his larger cloud form again and allowed it to spiral toward his nexus.
The first thing, maybe the only thing he would remember was her smell. The mixture of roses and cinammon. She wore a variety of perfumes, but that gentle scent was always present.