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Demeter in Geneva By Matt Roen QuailBellMagazine.com The International Human Cognate Consortium had convened in Geneva that fall. There, amid the dainty cotillions and regal banquets that filled the Royal Imperial Maritime Navy Hall, the latest and greatest technological marvels were being exhibited, demonstrated, and paraded. The star of the show was to be presented on the second-to-the-last night of the conference; a production by Dr. Ulfric Wood of the eponymous Wood Heuristics Organization in Glasgow, Northern Marineris, Mars. The cream of society was whipped in that room; that titanic ballroom that looked over the opalescent frozen lawn. They strutted in their asymmetrical outfits, half-one-eye glasses in shades of vermillion and puce hovering in front of the hundreds of callipygian and curious faces. The veritable odeour of society seemed to exude through their ruffled ascots, and hip-hugging vacuum-pants. The strawberries were dry, the liqueurs were flat, and bio-synthetic chocolate fondue wells were boiling in flavors from peppermint to peach. At the top of the room, Dr. Ulfric Wood sat amid the crystal finery of the Royal family, and at the appointed hour: finished his swallow marsala, dabbed at his mouth with a dissolvable hanky, and began to tap the rim of his goblet with the dainty swallow fork. “Citizens of the Empire, Distinguished Members of the I.H.C.C., Ladies, Gentlemen, Wobi-men, and Others. Thank you for receiving me this evening; I realize that your time is precious, and so I will do my best not to intrude overmuch. What I have to demonstrate for you tonight is perhaps the grandest advancement in the study of artificial intelligence in the last four centuries.” By the end of this introductory paragraph, most if not quite all of the hubbub in the room had subsided. Some correspondents were still sitting on benches against the wall, gesturing violently as they interfaced with the projected displays of their half-one-eyes, still muttering to their colleagues on Luna, or in the science canto of the International Space Station. Dr. Ulfric went on, “It is with grave moral certitude that I posit this. And it is with identical pride that I give you the masterpiece of the Wood Heuristics Organization. Sirs, madams, ma’amsirs, and others; I present, Demeter!” He stood with this last word, arms flung up and out in celebratory presentation, as a thing entered from a door behind Ulfric, and stepped down the sloping floor of the ballroom. It walked with a regal rhythm, a battery of delicately spun thread legs dancing and tapping its way gently down the aisle, its chassis of glittering metal flourishing as a thousand tiny silver flaps fanned in and out as though with the motion of an ancient bellows. From its back extended an array of tiny lights and projectors that were all angled towards the visible gap where its head might rest. Through everyone’s half-one-eyes, the thing’s ‘face’ was presented as a series of angles. It was a crystalline structure (a hexeract it was called,) that folded in upon itself in smooth, wave-like motions. The projectors modulated the shape and coloration of the face, currently segueing through the ultra-violet end of the spectrum. Its edges glimmered in the projectors’ light, and the nearly silent operation of the assembly impressed itself upon the entirety of the consortium committee guests. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Fairy SignalsBy Paisley Hibou QuailBellMagazine.com The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
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