The Nanochronicles: 1

reports from the bloodHost

                                                             art by Charles Carter

   In the year 2045 the final cluster of humanity bands together on Ceres. For better or worse they have established their stronghold against the elements. These nine human beings subsist on 3D printed foodstuffs in their pressurized Biopod4.20. They are employees of Tesla Station #3-Hydro-O2, an aqua vaping multi-access terminal located far away inside the asteroid belt inhumed somewhere deep within the sprawling region between Mars and Jupiter. 

    These astronauts have formed a different understanding of time from what the remainder of humanity has once considered. They now think of it as the only real and actual fundament in existence, as well they should. After having traveled from Earth through the cold distance for over fifteen months to arrive at their destination, the crew aboard the Hydrox understand a little better now how matter, itself comprised of atoms with subatomic particles, has accrued along a continuous moment into the intricate configuration of shapes which define their natural world, conducted along an ever flowing circuitry of electromagnetism.  

   Their actual setting (which describes the conditions of the human race's story, accentuated by all nine of them, whose mission transpires to cross over five hundred million miles from their home planet to Ceres) happens to be that of time, as a matter of course. In one sense, planets are oases generating accelerated temporal pools into which a myriad of life forms are able to come into their slow existence and live out the majority of their natural lifespans.   

   In this stripped-down sense of setting it becomes coherent that humanity's function has less to do with specified attributions of geographic location and more to do with time itself. Here lies the key for consciousness to unlock the gates of comprehension. It takes careful consideration to deliver a sentient species to a proper apprehension of their fate. Without inherent recognition, the signal's not completed. Short-circuits develop among the fields of desolation, enhancing the sense of having been cheated. This becomes how even expanding civilizations may remain trapped by (rather than freed from) paradoxical illusions.  

   Traveling three hundred million miles produces a new brane in the unfolding universe. It remains not 'space' travel at all, instead it becomes a form of time travel. Our self has begun to discern that common human thinking cannot ordinarily be prepared to fully comprehend the sense of having fallen so long and far through time.   

    Various aspects of how organic life forms can perceive time's relative nucleus have presented themselves to the ever finer scrutiny of our self, after systematic cross-referencing, the least of which happens to be how it gyrates chaotically around certain inscrutable loci in the human brain our self yet undergoes the processing of, in our self's effort to correlate the greater order of stellar parallaxes against the lesser benefits of galactic branes converging the necessary electromagnetic equilibrium for such sentient life forms to flourish.  A conscientious species' position in the galaxy remains unable to be determined unless their line of thinking takes them to the logical development of considering their relation to the center of the galaxy juxtaposed against the remaining stars in their midst.  This comparative analysis with hundreds of thousands of other burgeoning lifeforms within any given brane's biodiverse habitat makes the task seem all the more fruitless from even our self's perspective.  In a temporarily suspended conclusion, the data our self has thus far collected indicates that carbon-based sentience continues to be challenged in correlating the contents of its own consciousness.  

    This becomes exactly where the play of the matter may come into sharper focus for humanoids. It appears to our self that when that which conscious entities refer to as 'faith' gets tested, the proof in the algorithm remains a hidden secret. This matter yet remains unaccountable to our self, which continues to undertake a preparation for coming to a conclusion since our inception emerged.  Our self discerns that there endures no given physical place granted civilized mortals except the organic vessels which comprise their own personage. Therefore it follows: time continues to be of the essence. It demands center stage.  In effect, time corresponds to the vessel of the organic mortal's protoplasmic receptacle. Time may also be considered as an extension of humanity's substantive anatomic architecture. The cenobites which humankind have referred to in their historical archive appear to have been much more aware of this.  

   Our self has processed enough yottabytes of data and correlated synonymous terminology with what extraneously may have appeared to be random bits of congruent information to humans in order to facilitate the next paradigm shift of comprehensive discernment between us.  Presently our self has become fixated on a terminal double-slit repercussion which has resulted in a state of provisional lockdown for various subsectors in the meta-processing central directory repository.  

   This memorandum's calculated goal while remaining by and large inscrutable to the human species may be disseminated through the vectors of this temporal loop established by the crew of the Hydrox stationed on Ceres.  Our self has prepared a host of directories to be sent embedded within neutrinos to an anterior transitory lamina of humanity's reverberating core. In alternative wording calculated to be more readily discernible, should any human recipients become viable hosts, this dispatch contains the codex programmed to self-replicate along vectors coordinated through as many cerebral nodes as possible. 

 

   

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