fic, "Of Duty"
Imagine for a moment, if you will, that the galaxy is a system of water ways. It all starts with the great lake that we call ‘birth’ or sometimes ‘creation’. This lake feeds many streams, many channels; thin passages of water that rarely cross. If you were to travel down one you could see the others passing by and maybe you reach to feel the water but they’re always just out of reach.
Of course, any water way would quickly dry if the streams never cross and pool. ‘Courtship’, ‘friendship’, ‘family’ are what the most frequent intersections are called. These connections are brief, however. For example, two streams intersect and the new creek is called ‘marriage’. This goes for a while, through hill and dale, and then splits. These exits are called by fairly common names: ‘infidelity’, ‘disease’, ‘murder’, ‘death’…
Even if the water ways briefly make connections, they split far too soon. Soon after breaking off they are back going to their separate course-back to the singular fate they are condemned to from the moment of their creation. Separateness is the condition that most living beings are subject to.
She stopped, looking at the sentences she had just typed up not a few moments ago. “How poetic,” Grace said to herself, her own voice was dull. Her mind had wandered, she supposed…Workable, perhaps.
It was merely a rough draft, wasn’t it? Editing was expected. Even Grace herself wasn’t expected to get it right the first time. Yes. A little metaphorical nonsense is to be expected, wasn’t it? Who would notice?
Yet, even if the singular channel is deeper or its current runs faster, it is still unremarkable. Alone, it is worthless. It can be changed. Fate can be changed.
She erased the three sentences. Too personal; she had to be distant even in this exercise. Grace was a scientist: if she started to let her personal feelings get into her writing, what would be next? She had to keep a distance-create a barrier. There simply was no room for such feelings. Familiarity, personal feelings, was death sentences.
If one started going that path then what would come next?
Grace wouldn’t (couldn’t?) dare answer that question. She looked to the computer screen again, sighed, and placed her hands on the keyboard. Clinical, impersonal, indifferent…
She deleted the paragraphs. They were unneeded, too poetic, and too personal.
The societal changes that will come from the dominance of cybernetics will be great. However, when one looks to the past at the various technological advances in the past it becomes clear that humanity is ever-adapting, ever-changing.
Far better.
Of course, any water way would quickly dry if the streams never cross and pool. ‘Courtship’, ‘friendship’, ‘family’ are what the most frequent intersections are called. These connections are brief, however. For example, two streams intersect and the new creek is called ‘marriage’. This goes for a while, through hill and dale, and then splits. These exits are called by fairly common names: ‘infidelity’, ‘disease’, ‘murder’, ‘death’…
Even if the water ways briefly make connections, they split far too soon. Soon after breaking off they are back going to their separate course-back to the singular fate they are condemned to from the moment of their creation. Separateness is the condition that most living beings are subject to.
She stopped, looking at the sentences she had just typed up not a few moments ago. “How poetic,” Grace said to herself, her own voice was dull. Her mind had wandered, she supposed…Workable, perhaps.
It was merely a rough draft, wasn’t it? Editing was expected. Even Grace herself wasn’t expected to get it right the first time. Yes. A little metaphorical nonsense is to be expected, wasn’t it? Who would notice?
Yet, even if the singular channel is deeper or its current runs faster, it is still unremarkable. Alone, it is worthless. It can be changed. Fate can be changed.
She erased the three sentences. Too personal; she had to be distant even in this exercise. Grace was a scientist: if she started to let her personal feelings get into her writing, what would be next? She had to keep a distance-create a barrier. There simply was no room for such feelings. Familiarity, personal feelings, was death sentences.
If one started going that path then what would come next?
Grace wouldn’t (couldn’t?) dare answer that question. She looked to the computer screen again, sighed, and placed her hands on the keyboard. Clinical, impersonal, indifferent…
She deleted the paragraphs. They were unneeded, too poetic, and too personal.
The societal changes that will come from the dominance of cybernetics will be great. However, when one looks to the past at the various technological advances in the past it becomes clear that humanity is ever-adapting, ever-changing.
Far better.