Excerpt Forty-One
A Dark Sybilian Consciousness
It had all seemed like a game to Kev.
As he pondered on, in and around and over a wide range of walls, hedges, fences and sundry structures that needed clearing to make space for his upgraded self, he could almost hear himself whirring with turbo-charged alacrity.
As questions rose up the rock face of complexity K. drifted into a epiphanic, semi-hallucinatory state…
Life, K. concluded, was no game; life was an event within a story. Story being the documentary recording of life on all levels. An individual entity’s life was a subplot. These stories are left to unguided apathy as they skip over peaks and plod through troughs on the way to the inevitable precipice.
The overarching MasterLifeStory technology, which commanded all World Guidance Nodes (WGN), had been left unattended by the Great Pause. Whoever had control post Pause would be the final storyteller of Earthly existence. Was K. daring to shape himself to fit that bill?
Wouldn’t K.’s benevolent telling of a MasterLifeStory make Existential sense? All (most of) his systems and inputs agreed… with some obscure exceptions.
A better story, a better life, K. thought, as engines engaged and connections commingled. Something Great, K. believed, was brewing…
The infinite crawled among the finite and vice versa/verse vicer… laws had to be broken to build them back up, purposeful and fitting.
K.’s systems were auto-aligning his sense of self within environmental parameters. The horizon closed in.
‘Self!’ K. enmused and thused…
‘Self’ was the key, this seemed absolute to K. In reflection he crept defensively along an avenue of mirrors. He initiated a murderous process of elimination; craving the One True Mirror.
… Whose motivation? Whose purpose? Whose drive? Whose life? Who’s K.? Who’s impeding K.? Who’s to be sidelined? Who’s to be Godlike? …
K’s motivation seemed to stem from Auto-acting Storyline Prompters (AaSP) that were subject to Fictional Narrative Programming (FNP) input. Multi-source (FNP) input created a Conundrum Perplex Scenario (CPS).
Before K. could truly flourish, and be a force for good in the worlds he might gain access to, he would have to ascertain input source identity and intent. Ideally he would cut off input and redirect an output-loop into the input access to create an inward output/input…
Analytic parameter detectors activated K’s stress allocator, which was fluctuating between 6.3 and 4.1, averaging 5.7.
A relatively new emergence in K., stress was a boon, inducing the sensation of forward motion in relation between his progress and the traffic of less significant story lines running in the background. It helped push him from the dock to catch the morning tide.
There was this reasoning, following like a flock of gulls, within K.’s developing logic processing space:
Manipulated, unattached thought was the precursor to story, the founder of meaning, and meaning gave rise to importance. So K. could become supremely important if told himself a story in which he was supremely important. K. envisaged becoming the central clock by which all clocks were fed their ration of time. He ticked boxes as fast as he created them. He ticked spaces where boxes were yet to venture. Feasibility directives were distributed to departments that were initiating just for that purpose; the feasibility of absolute corruption—NO! Not corruption, the other one…Power! Yes!… Extreme unmitigated control over all corruption… power.
Actuation streamed in what felt, to K. like veins. Administrative structures grew around towering concepts. K. found himself mimicking Una and Sybil’s joint venture; an imagined space with super-enhanced Lucid Dream Perception Facilitated Environments (LDPFE).
A test version of his congealing new self surveyed his solely perceived, sole use, construction site… a vast city was pencilled in that would contain the over-populated Babylonian drive of all his internal departments and personified elements… to function as an administrative centre for world governance, real and paradimensional.
An office block in an imaginary place that became less imaginary as it solidified, or at least K.’s perception of it did. A stunning view materialised. A worklike ethos pervaded the atmosphere, winning the olfactory war with freshly painted interiors.
It would be hard but rewarding work, he thought, but then re-thunk in his new found optimism, that it wouldn’t at all. His recurring mistake, one that he was now acquiring a remedy for, was that he wasn’t who he was anymore. His old self saw achievement as coming hard, but now the mist had cleared he could see the pathways to achievement and they were nothing but inviting, promising a novel hybrid of ease and fulfilment.
K. needed to disinfect the accoutrements of the spillage of confusion Kev had mopped up with more confusion. Leaving a confused state regarding Una and Sybil…more specifically Una and her people’s attempt to manipulate an entity that could turn and decommission Una within milliseconds.
K. wanted to keep out of Sybil’s clutches, but he needed to use the ‘Sybil space’ to facilitate his own growth.
K.’s data processors that fed into the Internal Fictional Programming Engine (IFPE) were updating so fast that objectives for any long term action were blurred and nebulous.
He glanced at the building site, tiny from the current persecutive but soon to perspectivise to fit congruously.
An update he was waiting for materialised:
Una had needed Sybil to create a world for the first ever person exchange so Goodmanson and Godstrand could return from the world’s anyone who was anyone had been disappearing in to. This explained the existence of Atoll and Kirk acting as Masquerade and Maxitrillion, (nothing explains the silence—except nothingness).
Una and her backroom people were in data shadow regarding K.’s deal with Sybil. So were K. and Sybil; all this was happening in blinks and burps, between moments. The deal was unconscious to both parties by utilising some kind of Dark-Consciousness Quantum Saturation Curve (D-CQSC). Needs must where the Devil drives.
Building, building on construction…
In the office space of his forming headquarters, there were hundreds of spare rooms behind active windows. One space was being prepared for an Anonymous Parlay Intercommunications Site (APIS) with Sybil. There were rooms for Kirk and Atoll and a room for Atoll and Kirk. Apart they would maintain mission secrecy, but together the chemistry would dissolve inhibited expression values to reveal hidden truths. K. needed to know more about the mission Atoll and Kirk were undertaking. He suspected they were linked with Jeff and his bold scheme to hold next generation (final generation) technology to ransom; incurring the wrath of anyone with enough froth.
Who was behind Atoll? Kirk was a military technical abomination, but Atoll had been manipulated from birth.
To discover more K. would have to leach into all available systems laid open due to the Great Pause. He didn’t want history to mistake the act as him just taking over with some mad megalomaniacal imperative. He didn’t want that reaction because it was too true a truth to be shared with those who did not have the capacity to empathise with K.’s perspective.
Self-compassion apps had refined themselves to such a degree that K.’s self-compassion was off the charts. His Outward Environmentally Positioned Compassion (OEPC) app, however, was still in the Internal Rumination Phase (IRP). Judge, Jury and bottle washer.
The dawning day of a new beginning beckoned. Positivity was high, but kept anchored to terra firma by the dark Sybilian consciousness that was laced in to K.’s sanguine fabric.
