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Post by Kaez on Apr 19, 2009 19:16:08 GMT -5
Children of Dust
GENESIS
Inquiry input//‘guest access’:
Inquiry input//<verification required…>
//verification success
Access request//‘Genesis’
Access request//<relating…>
Genesis_
filebank://access_filegroup92785
personal:2000ADpresent//G;
<Searching classified...>
Accessing file…
Genesis_
display://all following:
IGC, otherwise known as the International Genesis Corporation, or 'Genesis' for short, was the largest sole corporation in the world at the time of The Incident. Founded by Paul Hoshea, a world-renowned philanthropist and the single richest human being at the time, Genesis was built off of a specialization in base products. Coal, oil, and mineral mining expanded to timber, farming, and natural gas production within five years and by ten years post-formation, Genesis was the eighteenth largest company in the world and had expanded into secondary processes.
Their coal, oil, minerals, timber, farming, and natural gas production companies led to energy companies, gasoline retail, supply, and food companies. Two years later, packaging and shipping were added. After thirteen years in existence, Genesis owned each branch of product (collection, production, transport, sale) on over ninety products ranging from pharmaceuticals to canned goods. Fifteen years in existence, Genesis moved into the technological market, and gained position as the top corporation in America.
Genesis’ vast resources, growing team of brilliant scientists and extensive manufacturing capabilities soon drew the attention of the struggling U.S. government. Eager to gain a firm foothold in the advanced technologies industries, Genesis accepted contracts in aeronautics, robotics, computing and many other leading edge fields from the various American defense agencies.
Being a twenty year-old company at the time of the Incident, Genesis was officially recognized as the largest corporation in history, owning a twenty-two percent share in total world market.
classified://file_listing_
Genesis_
Genesis year eighteen saw the commencement of a top-secret program codenamed Project EDEN. EDEN was the brainchild of Genesis founder Paul Hoshea. The aging billionaire saw it as his last great contribution to humanity. At the time of The Incident, stages one and two of EDEN had been completed with the third component nearing completion as well. The isolated nature of the Project preserved it through the ensuing troubles.
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ADAM
Access request//‘ADAM’
Access request//<relating…>
Algorithmic_Directive_Anthropomorphic_Metacomputer_(ADAM)
ADAM is a metacomputer AI system created by the Genesis Corporation. The computer's operation device, the XD7331, is the most advanced anthropomorphic system to date, capable of producing a massive amount of organized and direction-based human reactions and responses, giving an unprecedented feel of advanced artificial intelligence.
It was created as an "Earth-healing unit", part of Genesis's Project EDEN. It was centered in The Garden, and given full access to a wide array of technologies designed for global rehabilitation. Resources available to ADAM ranged from stored specimens of all documented species on Earth to distribution of chemical compounds to classified new technologies at the verge of modern science. The unit was given full control over the Garden, which became the official headquarters of the EDEN Project. The project’s specific details are not on record as The Incident occurred only six days after EDEN's activation.
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The Incident
Access request//‘The_Incident’
Access request//<relating…>
The_Incident
The Incident was an event on the dates of Monday, April 6th and Tuesday, April 7th, 2059. At 9:34 pm, NYCUS-EST, inbound American ICBMs were reported by Russian missile command in Mount Yamantaw as well as in North Korea, China and even the allied nations of Israel, Pakistan and the EU. The entirely unexpected nature of the attack led to a period of immense confusion and conflicting orders where old scores were settles and many high-profile targets were bombed indiscriminately. Nuclear exchanges between Israel and the new nuclear arsenal of Iran were particularly brutal, leading to the near-total destruction of the region. Within two hours of the initial launch, one hundred and ninety-eight warheads bombed thirty-nine nations. Provocation for the attack remains unknown but it is important to note that, shortly prior to the attack, a garbled communiqué from the commanding officer at NORAD command in Cheyenne Mountain was received relating a confusing message regarding fluorinated water and the corruption of “American bodily fluids”. Shortly after this all communications with the base were cut off.
After the event, it was estimated that seventy-two percent of the world's population was either killed or fatally wounded, with an eighty-six percent food share contaminated, a forty-nine percent water share (and increasing) percent contaminated, and eighty-eight percent of all metro areas destroyed. Antarctica was the only continent that did not receive any attack, and hence The Garden, ADAM, project EDEN, and the Genesis file base remained safe.
Though some remote areas have remained fairly unaltered (directly, at least), the only known secure areas are The Garden facility and any other mass fall-out zones (Genesis reportedly owning multiple others).
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Post by Kaez on Apr 19, 2009 19:18:12 GMT -5
Southern Nevada, United States of America
3:38 PM, April 8th, 2059
All around were golden hills like massive waves of sand frozen in time. They sprawl out in all directions; massive emptiness, save tarnished desert and clouded sky. Gusts of wind whipped through the air every few seconds, swirling sand and dust through the hot air. Complete silence was broken by a soft purring whirl. The sound grew louder, gradually.
A small metallic orb, lined with solar panels and equipped with a large eye-like circle on its front went flying past. The device kept a few feet off of the ground, air jets underneath of it blew sand in all directions like a car driving through a puddle. It tore through the desert air, buzzing continuously. As it flew into the horizon, a mysterious thing began to develop. As if it were a mirage, vast silvery towers appeared in the distance. Huge billboards began to unveil from the dense air, and even a pyramid became visible.
The camera adjusted appropriately.
Target destination: Reached
hh://entering
sunpanelchargelevel67
As the orb entered the city, the camera spun from side to side, gathering as full of a view as possible. The street sign it shot past read 'Las Vegas Blvd'. Most of the buildings were completely demolished, many of them having fallen over. Small fires still roared ashy smoke from underneath piles of million-dollar rubble. A grand tower stood strong still, its right side completely charred and black. It was bend slightly to the side, as though the blazed top were looking down upon the broken city.
A few human-shaped ash piles decorated the streets. The orb made no note of them. The device's noise dulled and it came to a slow stop, and lowered itself to the floor. A thin metal rod appeared from the top of it.
Scanning: in process...
Please wait...
Please wait...
Please wait...
Scan complete.
Life forms detected: _0
The device made another loud whine and burst upward. Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred feet into the air. Up and up it went until even the tower looked up to it.
Again the device scanned, this time from the bottom. Yet again, no luck. Las Vegas was a ghost town.
The orb spun around and flew back into the desert.
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"ADAM, update."
A massive flat-panel display made up the entire wall of the main chamber. The device was made of ten sixty-inch screens by ten sixty-inch screens and, when it turned on, lit the entire room with a brief flash of blue.
On the screen, an 'ADAM' logo appeared briefly, before switching to a deep navy blue that was much less blinding. A thin, white line appeared in the middle of the screen. "Processing an update, Mister Woods," a sourceless voice read. The white line zig-zagged to match the voice's tone and pitch and the audio itself was presented from a collection of eighty speakers which lined all sides and corners of the room including the floor. The voice very much sounded as thought it simply existed, from no specific source whatsoever.
"Thank you, ADAM," a dull, almost sarcastic voice remarked. Mister Woods was a small man, no taller than five foot eight, with choppy, graying brown hair and thin bifocals. His features were sharp and rigid, lined with wrinkles. He typed away on one of the dozen computer boards that lined the right wall of the room, and someone else, a rather young woman, was typing away at one of the computers on the right. "Brittany, what's O-Rec doing?"
The girl at the other computer spun around in her chair. Her features were gentle and smooth, and she had a certain natural glow about her green eyes. With a flick of her neck, she tosses long auburn hair behind her, "He's leaving Las Vegas, it's completely gone," she remarked with a light smirk.
"Thank you, Brittany," Mr. Woods said in the same sarcastic tone. "... Adam?"
"Processing, Mister Woods."
"What's taking so long?" he begged. "Are the satellites still in proper functioning orbit or are they not? It's not so difficult."
"Processing, Mister Woods."
hmt_videofeed:
readsfeed653// open
US05932
US39530
US93053
CH572
US97040
US32002
_unidentified_orbital_object
CH392
CH008
US83029
US39200
Camera:
_unidentified_orbital_object
Earth spun silently in space. It's atmosphere sparkled a dim white, coating the blues and browns of the devastated habitat.
From a distance, it looked rather pathetic. It didn't have the menacing, rough, deep red of Mars. Nor did it have the volcanic protection of Venus.
Most of its surface area was an H2O chemical compound and its atmosphere was basic and harmless hydrogen and oxygen supplies. The tiny orbiting satellite sent its feeds.
ADAM registered a satellite camera to focus on it as he, yet again, said, "Processing, Mister Woods."
'What are you?' the computer wondered.
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Post by Felandria on Apr 19, 2009 19:19:44 GMT -5
Earth, The Sol System
3:42 PM, April 8th, 2059
The cold black quiet of space enveloped the third planet of the system known as Sol. Abandoned ships and satellites still caught in the gravitational field gazed upon the thing below them. In silence they watched their once great world rot before their eyes, a victim of its own people. These relics of an age past were not the only ones that saw however.
In the cosmos above the dying world space seemed to shimmer. Light began to bend and ripple around a point until it seemed as if reality had liquefied. A sleek, black, blade-like ship slipped through the hole in space-time. It was this very ship that had opened the rift half the galaxy away. A soft blue glow emanated from the rear of the craft, propelling it towards the dying world that lay before it. The rift had been opened relatively close to the planet, and it was only a few minutes before the craft was in orbit around the blue-brown world. The ship cut its engines and let the natural forces at work take hold.
For a few moments it only observed, recording all that was before it. Instruments alien to this place compiled data in languages entirely inhuman. Without warning jets of gas shot from the sides of the craft, positioning it so that its underbelly faced the planet. Two panels slide open fluidly. A number of small spheres jettisoned from the space, their engines activating as they hurtled towards the planet below. They appeared to be made of the same obsidian metal as the ship. Each sped away from their mother arcing off in different directions as they entered the weakened atmosphere.
As the orbs descended, the ship’s doors closed. The engines reignited and moved the craft out of orbit. The radiation from the planet below and the surrounding area could hinder the ship’s slip-space communications. Once it had put a sufficient distance between itself and the planet the craft reopened the rift and began transmitting. The encrypted transmission broadcast by the craft passed through the rift to the ship’s point of origin on the other side.
The ship sped off towards the planet, the rift closing behind it as its drive deactivated. Syncing with the planet’s orbit, its engines shut down, and the craft became invisible to most forms of detection. There it sat. Waiting. Watching. And being watched.
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Post by Matteo ((Taed)) on Apr 19, 2009 19:24:21 GMT -5
The Garden, Antarctica
3:43 PM, April 8th, 2059
In a dark, frigid corner of a blasted world there was a slight click and a low hum as an air circulator sprang to life and set an artificial breeze blowing. Simon Kirk sat, eyes closed, with his head lolling over the back of a padded, memory gel chair as the cool breeze whispered over him. The room in which he sat was a pleasing dichotomy of modern technology and wild, verdant nature. Leafy ferns and versatile dwarf wheat grew up brushed aluminum walls and in shallow troughs of enriched soil on the ground. Stainless steel fan blades spun lazily in recessed alcoves lined with green grass. Fat vegetables grew in hydroponics vats and LED lights hung among clinging ivy overhead. Simon inhaled deeply. The air smelled alive. In such an idyllic setting as this it was almost possible to forget the horrors that had so recently been exacted upon an unsuspecting world.
“Mr. Kirk? Are you there Mr. Kirk?”
Simon sighed in agitation at the interruption. After fishing around in the pockets of his coveralls for a moment he drew out a tiny headset and awkwardly inserted it into his ear.
“Yes Brittany. What is it? You may remember that I asked not to be disturbed.”
“Yes Mr. Kirk, I remembered. Only we may have a bit of a situation developing up here. ADAM has found something.”
Simon immediately sat bolt upright in his chair. “Survivors?” He asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.
“No. No I don’t think so …. You’d better get up here and see for yourself sir.”
That really got Simon’s attention. Brittany never called him sir. Whatever they had found must be really spectacular for her to be pandering like that. She and the other techie, Woods, just sat around that dark control room all day fiddling with their computers. They thought because they were the only ones on base that really understood ADAM that they were more important than anyone else here. Sometimes Simon thought they didn’t even care about what had happened to the rest of the world. They certainly never seemed to show it.
Simon got up and stretched hugely. He double-timed it up a narrow staircase and headed for the exit closest to the control room. As he paused a moment for the heavy, fireproof door to cycle through he caught a glimpse of himself in the glass. Close-cropped brown hair and a bit more stubble than he would have liked greeted him. He would like to think that the blue eyes staring back at him had a deep, haunted look. That they had peered into the abyss, into the fires of Apocalypse, and come back changed. In actuality, they just looked tired. He would have to finish his little rest later. Hopefully there would be time.
It hadn’t been easy being acting director of a facility like Eden even before it was pressed into service. Now, with the world not just going to Hell but having already arrived and unpacked its bags, the best Simon could hope for was a solid six hours of sleep and an occasional nap in the oxygen garden.
It didn’t help that all this was supposed to be somebody else’s job, not Simon’s. He wasn’t on Eden’s precious List. If The Incident had happened six months later Simon would have evaporated in a flash of light or vomited his poisoned guts up along with all the others. When it had all gone down-it felt like eons ago but it hadn’t been all that long, really-Eden was brand spanking new and most of the people in it were still Genesis builders and techies. When you were building a place like the Garden, so far away from everything, you had to have the workers live on site. And since most of them had families you had to bring them along too. When the big Vault doors had finally closed most of the “best and brightest” on the List were either dead or stranded. The great beacon of the future had become a glorified refugee camp and Simon had been forced to run it all.
Passing through the heavily reinforced hallways, Simon passed a handful of other residents. Most still wore Genesis-issue coveralls, colour coded for occupation. A few were wearing their civilian clothes. No matter what, they all had the same tired, broken look on their faces. They were all thinking variations of the same thought. They were all thinking ‘What’s the point?’ Simon couldn’t blame them. He thought that often enough himself these days.
It took a few minutes to get up to the control room. The Garden was a big place. Simon entered through the huge blast-doors. As they hissed shut behind him they cut off the last sliver of warm light from the hallway and left the room shrouded in the glow of computer screens. Woods and Brittany were seated at separate terminals deeper into the chamber, close to the enormous multi-screen display that showed off ADAM’s current functions. As Simon got closer, ADAM’s sybilant monotone came on over the speakers.
“Greetings Mr. Kirk. I hope we did not disturb your rest. I understand that you must be very tired from all your responsibilities.”
Simon bristled internally. He couldn’t help but think that ADAM was mocking him somehow. The big machine did even more around here than Simon did and it didn’t need to sleep.
“It’s fine ADAM. I needed to be getting back to work anyway. What is it you needed to show me?”
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Post by Faerd ((B'slash)) on Apr 21, 2009 21:20:51 GMT -5
(AHA! So that's what this is. A recreation of your old thread? Wish I could have had the privelege of joining, or atleast been given a shot at attempting to join. As is, love it so far, and best of luck to you all on making this piece of brilliance.)
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Post by WJChesek ((Evern)) on Apr 22, 2009 9:09:47 GMT -5
<Cracks knuckles>
"Settles" should be "settled" tense change.
Felt "sprawl" should be past tense too. Flows better that way.
C'mon! You did your research before! The atmosphere has mostly Nitrogen and a ton of other elements too!
Other than that, great story! Loved the technical aspects, all the // stuff!
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Post by Kaez on Apr 22, 2009 9:24:34 GMT -5
<Cracks knuckles> "Settles" should be "settled" tense change. Felt "sprawl" should be past tense too. Flows better that way. C'mon! You did your research before! The atmosphere has mostly Nitrogen and a ton of other elements too! Other than that, great story! Loved the technical aspects, all the // stuff! (( Nitrogen is an inevitable substance -- it's, at least partially, in all terrestrial planet atmospheres. Earth is the only one known to have both hydrogen and oxygen, and it's surface is mainly just a compound of the two. That's its only unique feature, amongst the terrestrials. But thanks for the review, man. XD )) |
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Post by WJChesek ((Evern)) on Apr 22, 2009 9:30:44 GMT -5
No problem!
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Post by Kaez on Apr 23, 2009 20:42:34 GMT -5
ADAM apologized for the short-notice call, and its cameras panned down on Simon. He seemed restless.
“It’s fine ADAM," Simon said. "I needed to be getting back to work anyway. What is it you needed to show me?”
ADAMs cameras spun to Brittany, who had taken a seat next to Mr. Woods. "Thank you, Brittany."
She nodded to the computer.
"One moment, please," ADAM spoke. A loading screen appeared on the wall for a moment, before a black and distorted image appeared. A line of code at the top of the screen read:
hmt_videofeed:
readsfeed653//_unidentified_orbital_object
The blurred image grew more pixelized, and eventually smoothed out, and focused inward. Somewhere in the waves of darkness, a faint metallic object seemed to be reflecting the pale blue atmosphere of Earth.
"All onboard processing units of satellite US32002 readjusted toward the object. Radio and video feed both processed and complete. The feed you are viewing," ADAM informed the three, "was taken two minutes ago. In nineteen seconds, the small satellite will fade backward, out of camera adjustment range."
Simon's exhausted eyes reflected the glistening object as it rolled from the camera's view.
"So, what is it?" Mr. Wood inquired.
"The only remaining satellites that could, even hypothetically, be in the area are US32002 and CH392. The video feed you just witnessed," ADAM said, canceling the feed and flashing the screen back to the audio bar, "was taken from US32002. CH392 can be observed in the background of the image."
A small black box made up of only a few pixels came onto the corner of the screen, and zoomed in. Sure enough, there was CH392.
"So what is it?" Brittany asked in a cold tone.
"Ultraviolet feed processing," ADAM told her.
Simon scratched his short beard and took a seat in the back of the room -- his eyes never leaving the screen.
"Radio feed picked up on polyelectromagnetic spectrum level," ADAM said.
Mr. Woods and Brittany glanced at each other. "Regrettably, basic orbital satellites do not contain full spectrum devices. However, based on ultraviolet observations and processing, I can say with an upward accuracy of eight seven percent that the reading was submitted on not only ultraviolet wavelength, but x-ray and gamma ray as well.
Just as such, I can inform you with a ninety seven percent accuracy that the object in question did, in fact, work as a message satellite, reflecting the wavelength from two separate, as of yet unidentified, means."
Mr. Woods turned to Brittany, then Simon, and back to ADAM. "Did you just inform us of an unidentified satellite that entered Earth's orbit temporarily, and then removed itself after transmitting some sort of signal?"
"And not just that," ADAM said coolly, "but the ultraviolet feed, luckily for us, was submitted via single-point flash transmissions, and hence was easily formatted into dash-dot code and able to be, albeit roughly, arranged into a comprehensible human means."
The group seemed to blink in unison.
"That is to say, it is akin to Morse Code, and I am able to make lingual meaning of the message."
Mr. Woods leaned back in his seat, his mind rushing in every direction. To him, this opened up a possibility at a time already so hectic, he could hardly comprehend what was happening. ADAMs calmness and apparent feeling of insignificance about the situation was just as hard to understand. Sometimes he forgot that ADAM was but a computer.
Simon, who had been quiet and whose eyes hadn't left the screen, told ADAM to read the translation.
"I'd be honored to, Simon." ADAM's loading screen appeared for a few seconds.
"Opening message was a contained group of nanosencond pulsations. They came in an order of: three, five, eleven, seventeen, thirty-one, forty-one, fifty-nine, sixty-seven, eighty-three, one-hundred-nine." ADAM paused for a long moment.
"So that's it?" Mr. Woods asked. "It flashed in ultraviolet a few hundred times?"
ADAM's tone was programmed, but he almost seemed to defy such. "Mr. Woods, these are the prime listed prime numbers. That is to say, the numbers are the second, third, fifth, seventh, eleventh, thirteenth, seventeenth, nineteen, twenty-third and twenty-ninth prime numbers. The message's signature is a representation of a more-than-fundamental knowledge of the base-ten numerical system."
Brittany stood up and paced between opposite sides of the room. "What do we do with this?" she asked no one in particular. "What... I mean... oh, Christ..."
"I suggest I inform you of the rest of the transmission," ADAM suggested.
The group all turned to him. "Using a translation of numbers patterns into fitting letters, and forming words of the letters, I was able to find patterns in the pulsations that were, to my surprise, somewhat comparable to the basic structure of a terrestrial hieroglyphic in that ideas were clearly decipherable based on elimination of the illogical and hence finding logical patterns amongst the code."
"Simpler terms, ADAM," Mr. Woods sighed.
"That is to say, only when very specific concepts are tied to certain number patterns can anything fathomable and logical be produced, and ergo, the translation I processed in the only possible direct meaning of the message.
"Further more, the very ability for this to occur proves that the message sender was either a particularly unlikely candidate of terrestrial origin, or we are, I'm pleased to inform you, intercepting and translating a message of extraterrestrial origin."
Brittany's heart pounded in her chest. "And the translation?!" she exclaimed.
"One moment," ADAM said as his audio bar appeared across the screen.
"May I take the liberty of putting it into less abstract terminology? I assure you that my linguistic proc--"
Mr. Woods cut him off, "Yes."
"Thank you. Modified translation of unknown-original polyelectromagnetic message:
Scout vessel 0-5-0-2 reporting.
Slipspace channel stable.
Void storm detected.
Estimated arrival 0-0, pause, 0-7, pause, 4-3, pause, 0-9, terrestrial hours.
Designation 0-0-1-2-0-4-0 located.
Initial scans confirmed.
Drones deployed to 0-0-1-2-0-4-0, pause, 0-0-3
Maintaining orbit around 0-0-1-2-0-4-0, pause, 0-3
Awaiting further instructions.
Scout vessel 0-5-2-0 out.
All praise the."
ADAM said nothing more.
Simon glanced over at Brittany and Mr. Woods, both with looks of bafflement smeared across their faces.
"Praise the what?" he finally asked.
"Regrettably," ADAM replied, "While the very fact that we could make such a startlingly accurate translation is for you, I'm sure, rather unbelievable -- the last eight pulses do not seem to make any translatable or, indeed, any logical conceptual message."
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