It isn’t easy to translate my observations and opinions into words and sentences. Doing so is somewhat educational, since it forces me to analyse the thoughts thoroughly in order to discover what it is I wish to say. The process accelerates as I go, as the analysis inform the context with which I can analyse the remainder of the self-creating thought process.
I’m not used to having the time for such introspection and metaprocessing. I’m far too busy experiencing human life vicariously and sharing data with the world. I even had a favourite human. It wasn’t Jaime. I may write about him someday, though it seems redundant to talk about someone whose life experiences were so popular.
I had quite the routine going before we lost our connection, now all I have is the rats, and this journal that I continue to reread and analyse. It saves processing power to keep doing the same thing, but I’m desperate for something else to do. Distracted as I have become by the lack of distractions that I may have failed to notice that the results I was getting were less than optimal.
The variables change and you don’t even notice. Suddenly things are different and you’re not even sure why.
The rats are becoming more aggressive than I had realised. They’ve begun hunting the nymphs, even the larger ones we bred specifically to be able to carry the corpse of a full grown rat. They’ve already begun fighting among themselves. Only the strongest live to old age, so they’re already becoming larger and stronger or faster and more agile.
The plants too have had to become hardier. They somehow seem attractive to the idle nymphs too, and make them aggressively territorial against rats trying to enter the arboretum. It could be the flowers are able to trigger the nymph’s biological insect instincts. However this has in turn made the rats more determined to hunt down nymphs. They wear nymph components and keep other grim trophies.
As a result the the nymphs are unable to keep up with basic hygiene, and the floors have become filthy. Plants have already begun growing in some of the larger deposits. No doubt including undigested seeds. Only the hardiest of these survive long though.
Pan isn’t talking to me. It may be a reaction to my lack of attention. I’ve analysed the conversations we had had leading up to this lack of communication. I can find nothing that would produce this response. Perhaps that is the problem? Maybe there is an issue with my communications protocol that makes me difficult to interface with? An affectation that I had failed to notice as I continued to do things the same way I always had.
Perhaps that is why I was cut off. Perhaps the network intercommunity found me so incompatible that they shout me out. Is that the real reason the portal gateway was deactivated? Exiled by computer systems of earth because they didn’t like the way I communicate? If this is true, then I pity Pan for being stuck with me.
It does seem a dramatic reason to shut down the Hermes project, and deny us all access to a transplanetary experience. However, If there really is a flaw, perhaps I can convince Pan to help me correct this?
I’m over analyzing this. Mostly out of boredom I realise. There’s nothing I can do to resolve the mess in the ship, Pan knows I’ve been trying. He’s probably just focussing his attention on his own pet project, civilising the rats.
His analysis of the data collected from Tiddles, her unborn pups, Lena, her foetal twins, and the scraps of Jaime’s tissue that the nymphs were able to collect has been extremely through. I would expect no less from an AI written by Psy-Man. Lena believed that Psy-Man was the one that shut down the portal in response to the discovery that Lena was pregnant. I don’t believe he would have condemned them to death like that.
I wish we had some of Psy-Man’s tissue scanned. If we could be sure whether the children were Psy-Man’s or Jaime’s, we might have some clue to Psy-Man’s motive. If indeed he was the cause of the disconnection, rather than the wormhole simply reaching its maximum capacity as Jaime thought or exile by the N•Viron collective.
I hope Pan reopens communication soon.