Darwin 23.05.889:: The Sequence One: Chapters 1 - 4 (TBC)

Darwin 23.05.889:: The Sequence One: Chapters 1 - 4 (TBC)

A "Better Beam It Up Now" story in installments
by Willi Paul and PlanetShifter.com 2009

So you'd like to save the world
I suggest you take one person at a time
And start with me
Not an ordinary girl
Not someone that I should hit upon
And ask, hey what's your sign babe
Have you been reading my mind
(what did you find)
Nothing more or less terrestrial

Could I keep you in mind
Did you really cry
When you saw the hole in the sky
Did you really hold your head and hide your eyes
Well that's all right
You might call it ultraviolet radiation
It's only sunlight
So you'd like to save my world
If you could free my inner child
Then I could free your inhibitions babe
Or would you like to mother me
I love the way you wear
That motorola generation chic mama
Have you been reading my mind
(what did you find)
Nothing more or less terrestrial
Could I keep you in mind

-- Lloyd Cole

Sunshine Coast Island Crew:

Selene Nouveau Jour, PhD, mindsmith, altReality engineer
Kraker – permaculture enthusiast, transmissions, tunes
Vulkan – chef, security, card dealer
In Space Crew:
Willow “Jack” Robinson, M.E. - researcher and artist in the orbiting Rotator craft
YR::: 2080

Sykpe 370.22 is a still a cool app, the cell phone is now a global positioning device and satellite transponder and way outside of the iPhone boundaries long ago lost from AppleGWare in Silicon Valley. Kraker pin-points Selene in one of the tee pees on top of the island’s many leeking volcanic steam vents. A make-shift sauna. A freebie from the cave men.

“Another sage burning,” he muses. His “SuperNatural B.C.” tee shirt has so many holes in it, he is almost invisible.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The island‘s third human is better tasted than seen. Vulkan is the chef and organic gardener on the rock, now approaching the force field and boat dock from errands in Vancouver.

“Got cha, man.”

“Thanks Krak.”

Kraker powers-down the invisible fence and permits the Quicksilver Destiny rubber craft safe passage.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Darwin 23.05.889:: The Sequence One:
Chapter 2: Data Link DNA
If you were a priest I would wait at least
Up unto confession time And Crawl into your box
Breathing like a fox Hunting for obsession time and
I've thrown a lot of time away to be with you
So please don't lock away your eyes
If you were a ghost I would treasure most
Time I never spent with you and wander through your head
The words I never said Till I knew what I meant to you …

“If You Were a Priest”
Robyn Hitchcock, Element of Light

The Island in the East Bay of California, known as Alameda, finally vanished under dark pressing bay waters last evening according to the NY Times web site. A very slow death and now a common sight all across the coastal edges of the earth. San Francisco County is 78% submerged, with only Nob Hill, parts of Pacific Heights and Coit Tower showing up on the Rotator’s scans.

“That’s fifty dollars, Krak” shouted Vulkan! He won the Alameda-lost bet.

Luckily Dr. Selene Nouveau Jour engineered her island for the big melt. The support buildings, permaculture zones and observatory were always in the top 25% elevation of the tiny Canadian island land mass.

Of course, Willow was far, far away from the hydro-chaos of the Earth’s climate nightmare, orbiting serenely 4.5 miles above the pool.

“What’s up in Vancouver?”

“Good Music and better beers.”

“Did you find the cables at IT Blue Will?”

“Yo!”

“Alright. Let’s try to patch Fat Port 44 as discussed.”

Jour and Kraker have a digital grey matter thing going on. Call it virtual mind mushing. Or brain scanning; real close to a weird knowing dual-existence.

“Willow?” Willow grabs the con and shouts back: “Read You.”
Doc wants to run the tests to make sure the turning mechanism in the tele-machine is calibrated. The last storm was a tech killer, and blew off too many green house roofs.

“What is tonight’s sequence, Doc?”

The digital crayon on the Rotator started jig sawing:

000011000000111101111100000101010101010101010000001111010100011110101
110010101010111100000010100100000111110101010100011010100101010001010
010101001101011010111101101001001010110101010100101010101010101010100
010101010101110101011011110100011101000001010101010101010101010101010
010110101010101010101010101010101010101010000000000011010101010010101
110010101010111100000010100100000111110101010100011010100101010001010
010101001101011010111101101001001010110101010100101010101010101010100
010110101010101010101010101010101010101010000000000011010101010010101
000011000000111101111100000101010101010101010000001111010100011110101
010101010101010101010101010101010000000000101010101010101010101010101
and on and on….

Progress. The Fat Port 44 song returns!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Darwin 23.05.889:: The Sequence One:
Chapter 3: In My ElectroEye

red rain
putting the pressure on much harder now
to return again and again
just let the red rain splash you
let the rain fall on your skin
I come to you defences down
with the trust of a child"

-- Peter Gabriel

The nano chip in Selene’s skull is constantly downloading tidbits from various syndicated resources, including the Harvard Mythological Union, Xeron Cult Class and Apple 6.

As a result, a John Lilly wonder child, she also sells her own IP back to the ranks in an endless DNA bionic salsa dance.

“Astro” Ms. Robinson is weightless, running tests, searching for the right green blinking nodes and things.

Where are pointing to tonight, Doc?

Regulius 2458..83. I want to see if the new sensers on the Rot are functional.

Check That.

Data from behind active black holes is not easy to cook. Too much D. Too little e.

Power up that pipe, boss.

Then the island crew launched the window to the sky, exposing the 1968 GE Teleponder A8, Sky Blaster, always out of tune and playing to the past.

Lot’s of ricochet. Some hope.

Regulius 2458..83 was discovered back in the 60’s by the USA in the Puerto Rico Deep Dish and never caused much cosmic motion.

* * * * * * * * * * *
Back on the ground, Vulkan settled into his multi-sensor outpost near the telescope, hoping that the creepy crawly feelies from the Vancouver Greens were taking a night off.

Darwin 23.05.889:: The Sequence One:
Chapter 4: Data Wolves Come Out

We're playing those mind games together,
Pushing barriers, planting seeds,
Playing the mind guerilla,
Chanting the Mantra peace on earth,
We all been playing mind games forever,

Some kinda druid dudes lifting the veil.
Doing the mind guerilla,
Some call it the search for the grail,
Love is the answer and you know that for sure,
Love is flower you got to let it, you got to let it grow, …

So keep on playing those mind games together,
Doing the ritual dance in the sun,
Millions of mind guerrillas,
Putting their soul power to the karmic wheel,

John Lennon, Mind Games

Regulius 2458..83 is a faint echo, a dust cloud with a little Corvette angel roar dripping in the middle. Why Doc is peering into this sticky molten mess is anyone’s’ guess. No one expects water or anything.

Power up the infrared Wlliow!

Yes. Done.

Are we getting this sequence on the monitors on the Rotator?
Roger that.

Doc, I’m picking up some outer orbit debris from north hem sector 33.

How much?

Enough to pause the tower drives.

We wait then.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Vulcan was monitoring the transmissions between Doc and Robinson, keeping a careful on the north and southern shores of the island. Ever since the sustainability movement crashed into multiple factions. Vegan Strikers, Danner’s Permaculture Narcs, West Vancover’s Orange Skate Klub and on and on. Trust no one, except Self. Green is old Black. Scarcity breeds bandits at the tail end of Man.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Rotator just spins around and around, a weight-less high-tech cocoon for one. When Doc bought the island’n’space package from the military the satellite was state. Not now. Duck tape keeps light track on and water is usually scraped from the observation deck windows.

Willow is happy with the four armed flyer. Happy to be off the planet and a joy stick for the cosmic whims of one Selene Nouveau Jour, PhD.

Too much space junk, Doc.
Ya. Let’s kick it for now. I want to see what Vulcan has on his plate.

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