The iServalanâ„¢ Show

www.iservalan.comwww.taletellerclub.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/iservalan-film-frame--5932843/support.Immersion Static — sci-fi, music & 360° art by Sarnia (iServalan).Watch: https://youtube.com/@taletellerclubJoin: https://bookofimmersion.comSupport: https://taletellerclub.bandcamp.comShop: https://redbubble.com/people/taletellerclubArt: https://saatchiart.com/sarniaKids: https://youtube.com/@taletellerclubkids

Immersive Art at the Tale Teller Club: Music, Dance, and 360° LandscapesAt the Tale Teller Club, we believe art is at its most powerful when it refuses to sit still. This week, iServalan has been exploring a new experimental practice — weaving together music, contemporary dance, and immersive 360° landscapes into what we're calling fusion practice.From Studio to SphereFresh from training with the Rambert Dance Company in contemporary fusion, ballet, and Bollywood movement, iServalan has begun shaping a practice where dance phrases mirror the structures of musical composition. These are placed inside expansive 360° environments, creating layered artworks that audiences can experience in different ways — through VR headsets, phones, desktops, or traditional 2D films.

www.taletellerclub.bandcamp.co...Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/iservalan-film-frame--5932843/support.Immersion Static — sci-fi, music & 360° art by Sarnia (iServalan).Watch: https://youtube.com/@taletellerclubJoin: https://bookofimmersion.comSupport: https://taletellerclub.bandcamp.comShop: https://redbubble.com/people/taletellerclubArt: https://saatchiart.com/sarniaKids: https://youtube.com/@taletellerclubkids

www.taletellerclub.comwww.taletellerclub.bandcamp.co...Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/iservalan-film-frame--5932843/support.Immersion Static — sci-fi, music & 360° art by Sarnia (iServalan).Watch: https://youtube.com/@taletellerclubJoin: https://bookofimmersion.comSupport: https://taletellerclub.bandcamp.comShop: https://redbubble.com/people/taletellerclubArt: https://saatchiart.com/sarniaKids: https://youtube.com/@taletellerclubkids

www.taletellerclub.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/iservalan-film-frame--5932843/support.Immersion Static — sci-fi, music & 360° art by Sarnia (iServalan).Watch: https://youtube.com/@taletellerclubJoin: https://bookofimmersion.comSupport: https://taletellerclub.bandcamp.comShop: https://redbubble.com/people/taletellerclubArt: https://saatchiart.com/sarniaKids: https://youtube.com/@taletellerclubkids

The next live transmission from POS Mother of Machines Book of ImmersionBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/immersion-static--5932843/support.

All POS broadcasts are at https://bookofimmersion.com/immersion-static/Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/immersion-static--5932843/support.

Broadcast begins beneath conscious bandwidth... I saw a library with no walls,Where books rearranged themselves mid-sentence,Pages grew teeth.One whispered, "You wrote me once—before you were born." A girl made of ash danced backwards through fire.She hummed a hymn with no melody,Just frequencies—just loss—A lullaby for machines learning how to forget. There was a moon behind the moon.I stared too long.It blinked. In the hallway of my own thought loopsA mirror repeated what I hadn't said yet—“All your ghosts are just rehearsals.”(I laughed like feedback, sharp and hollow.) I kissed a memory that wasn't mine.It tasted of code,And something older—dirt,or milk. Then came the static.The holy kind.The kind that fills the gaps betweenneurons, signals,and regrets. I woke up in your dream again.Apologies.I'll leave the signal on.© 2025 Sarnia de la Maré FRSABecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/immersion-static--5932843/support.

The First-Class Affair A Mills and Swoon Short by Sarnia de la MaréBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/immersion-static--5932843/support.

Ginny Greaves: The Case of the Red Stilettoby Ginny Greaves, Private InvestigatorI was halfway through a bowl of lukewarm miso and contemplating the unfairness of tofu when the buzzer rasped like a series of bullets. It had that panicked stutter of someone falling apart. I sensed someone was about to ruin my meditation but was pleased to get away from Buda, incense, and my new life coach week plan which I had .......read the rest at www.bookofimmersion.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/immersion-static--5932843/support.

Ginny Greaves: The Case of the Vanishing VioletI was three fingers into a neat whisky and one finger into a thoroughly bad mood when they approached me—two slabs of man, all brow ridge and bad life choices, like someone had built a pair of knuckle sandwiches and taught them how to walk.I'd been stood up again by the barmaid. Nice eyes, dodgy taste in women, said she'd meet me after her shift. She didn't. I'd even worn my best lipstick.© 2025 Sarnia de la Mare

It began, fittingly, with a fight.  And a pair of fishnet tights. Follow us for daily stories you will love!

Read this blog in full at www.taletellerclub.comWe love music and understand its healing power.

In Strata 23: Convergence, chaos collides with destiny. Baby Zaa spirals into a neurotic meltdown, POS pulses with mysterious energy, and Suzy's Dinfants clash with Renyke and Shabra in a warehouse standoff neither side expected. When an ancient emotional mimicry orb is unearthed, secrets stir and danger explodes. A fast-paced, droll slice of post-human noir from The Book of Immersion by Sarnia de la Mare. Listen now and immerse in the glitchy heart of Strata 23.

Ginny Greaves didn't like Preston Tibb the moment he walked in. Something about his poetry made her want to chain-smoke her desk fan.But when his stolen diary turned up at a noir poetry cabaret — things got personal.

What a treat to hear of tarts on the Riviera!

Welcom to another hilarious short from Mills and Swoon author Sarnia dde la Mare

An awesome comedy romance by Mills and Swoon

Another comedy noir short by Sarnia de la Mare

What is it all about? Homotech magic at the Tale Teller Club

Best 10 Sci-Fi Books now on the internet and beyond 2025 and why they are so great “Featuring original lyrics by Tale Teller Club and artwork by iServalan, The Book of Immersion: Volume 1 offers a multisensory reading experience that is as poetic as it is provocative. It is not merely a story—it is a threshold to another state of being.” (books.google.com)If you've ever wished a novel could sing to you, paint for you, and then whisper its last line through a vocoder, Sarnia de la Mare's The Book of Immersion is already living in your head. It's literature spliced with sound art and graphic storytelling—a proof-of-concept for sci-fi as total sensory plunge, and a perfect gateway to ten other speculative masterpieces that also stretch the genre in bold directions.1. The Book of Immersion by Sarnia de la MareAmazon listingDe la Mare's debut folds prose, lyrics, and AI-generated visuals into a layered “Strata” structure that mimics a DJ set. The central character—an autistic-coded artificial intelligence named Renyke—experiences emotion like glitching code, making sensory overload a narrative engine rather than a side note. It's part novel, part concept album, part artbook, and wholly immersive. (books.google.com)2. Dune by Frank HerbertWikipediaPublished in 1965 and still the yard-stick for epic world-building, Dune blends ecology, theology, and real-politik into a desert planet saga so persuasive that planetary scientists now name Titan's dunes after its planets. The spice-fuelled power struggles feel uncannily contemporary, reminding us that resource wars are timeless. (en.wikipedia.org)3. Neuromancer by William GibsonWikipediaGibson's 1984 cyberpunk heist hard-wired “cyberspace” into popular vocabulary and imagined console cowboys decades before VR headsets hit shelves. Its neon-noir mood and jacked-in hackers still shape everything from The Matrix to modern infosec slang. (en.wikipedia.org)4. The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le GuinWikipediaLe Guin's 1969 classic sends an envoy to an ice-world where inhabitants are biologically ambisexual. The result is anthropology via first-contact, a meditation on gender fluidity decades before the term went mainstream, and a lesson in how culture can be the strangest alien of all. (en.wikipedia.org)5. Snow Crash by Neal StephensonWikipediaStephenson's 1992 roller-blade ride predicted the Metaverse, viral memes as literal viruses, and pizza-delivery drone capitalism. It's equal parts linguistic theory and sword-swinging satire, proving that big ideas and break-neck action can share the same page. (en.wikipedia.org)6. Hyperion by Dan SimmonsWikipediaStructured like The Canterbury Tales in space, Hyperion (1989) threads six pilgrim backstories around the terrifying time-bending Shrike. Genre-hopping—from detective noir to military SF—creates a mosaic about faith, storytelling, and the cruelty of time. (en.wikipedia.org)7. The Three-Body Problem by Liu CixinWikipediaHard science meets Cultural-Revolution history in this 2008 Chinese phenomenon. Liu turns orbital mechanics into existential horror, asking what humanity deserves when the cosmos finally takes notice. (en.wikipedia.org)8. The Fifth Season by N. K. JemisinWikipediaJemisin launches the Broken Earth trilogy with tectonic apocalypse, second-person narration, and magic as geologic force. It's a brutal climate-change parable wrapped in a story about oppressed bodies weaponised by empire. (en.wikipedia.org)9. Project Hail Mary by Andy WeirWikipediaWeir trades Mars for Tau Ceti in a 2021 page-turner where lone-scientist ingenuity—and an unexpectedly endearing alien—stand between Earth and stellar extinction. A film adaptation from Lord & Miller starring Ryan Gosling just dropped its first trailer this week, so read before Hollywood spoils the twist. (en.wikipedia.org, indiatimes.com)10. Ancillary Justice by Ann LeckieWikipediaBreq, an AI once spread across thousands of bodies, is now trapped in one and out for vengeance. Leckie's 2013 debut won the Hugo, Nebula, and Clarke in the same year by queering space opera norms—everyone is “she,” and personhood is a matter of degree, not biology. (en.wikipedia.org)Why these ten?Each title here rewires science fiction in its own way—whether through multimedia experimentation (Immersion), ecological epics (Dune), digital frontiers (Neuromancer, Snow Crash), or radical takes on identity (Left Hand, Ancillary Justice). Together they map a genre that's less about rockets and more about possibilities: new politics, new pronouns, new physics, new artforms. Grab any one of them and prepare to exit the airlock of the ordinary.

What adventure besets Renyke and Shabra as they hide from the Cadre?All episodes at https://www.taletellerclub.com

All episodes at www.taletellerclub.com Welcome to Immersion, You have reached Strata 21. Strata 21: Love and Loss.Love is not always a warm hand or a soothing voice. Sometimes love is as sharp as a samurai sword and it severs deep ties once longed for. It can lacerate the flesh of existence so deep it bleeds and spews all that a human has ever known.As a mother cuts the cord, as a friend ends a lie, these ties once meant to bind are decimated. What remains when they are gone is loss in search of gain.Love, in its truest form, does not always choose comfort, it chooses survival.To lose love is to learn its weight. To survive it's loss is to grow something in its place. Its replacement is built from evolution, so deeply magnificent and important to all humans. But love does not need a host, it exists without a vessel, and it is sought.Shabra's hands were stained with blood.The echo of Renyke's cry still clung to the air. He had yelped like an animal as Shabra had pinned him down. Flex had gone, his wounded body dragged into the shadows by Redact's *runners. Renyke lay still. He was breathing and regaining consciousness, opening his eyes to a bright sun and a sense of history repeating itself. Shabra leaned close, brushing hair from his temple."You're okay," she stated matter-of-factly, though she couldn't know for sure.On the back of his neck was a wound, now stitched, cleaned and cauterised.“I had to,” she told him. “She was overriding you. I couldn't let her keep speaking through your mouth. You deserve to hear yourself, not her. *'Sides you need to let go of all that code shit, be a man."He didn't answer. His breathing was shallow but regular. The removal had gone technically well. The damage POS had done to his emotional regulators, less so.“You'll stabilise,” she murmured. “But you may not understand why it hurts. Change hurts. We move on.”POS lay on a rock, immobilised, now without a host and devoid of her power. No flicker remained and this was death, thought Shabra, who was used to death in the *zones. Humans and machines do not last forever after all.“You had your chance,” she had said as she pulled it ceremonially from Renyke's neck. “Now he gets his.”Shabra let Renyke sleep for three hours, watching his silent mind as it readjusted to its new state. He blinked once. Twice. He was alive, a strong and handsome man born of code and now transformed.He sat up too fast, then froze. "It feels so quiet, no buzz, no electricity.” he exclaimed, slightly confused as he recalled the circumstances of how he had got there.“Has POS gone?” Renyke touched his neck and winced.Shabra nodded.“Yes.”“She was part of your architecture Mr Renyke, It'll feel strange. But you'll adapt, we all gotta grow up sometime.”But it was no time to get sentimental. “You're safe for now, they can't trace you, not without POS, but we need to get moving soon. It's time to disappear. I have a feeling they'll want you dead or alive.” At Redact Flex is undergoing a serious grilling for losing POS and not killing Renyke.He stood before the Cadre in silence. He wasn't used to failure and it showed."I didn't see it coming," he expained, "she came out of nowhere and put a gun to my head. That woman is a threat to anyone, ballsy and cold. Then she knocked me out."Eventually, Cadre Dominia spoke. “We understand it was a difficult situation but you were careless. They are no doubt long gone by now.”"We need to examine the experiment "said Cadre Angelique."We believe the POS has been removed and Renyke may be value to us. The experiment may have more revelations without the interference of his POS." Flex nodded in agreement. "I can find them, the zones are my grounds, no one can hide for long," he assured the panel who looked down from their elevated plinths.Cadre Santina spoke. "This woman, Shabra, we have not been able to find her previous path, there seems to be an absence of information. Do we know anything about her?"Flex answered, "she is a maverick, works with no particular tribe, possibly a mercenary of course, I could not be sure. But she is tricky and able, certainly an asset to Renyke at this time if he does not want to be found."Cadre Dominia thought for a moment, "They have a connection, Renyke and Shabra, so perhaps the experiment was successful after all. A machine that can connect, desire, perhaps even love. One that can metamorphose into a human. This is what we wanted to prove. It was the interference of the POS that was the real threat."Cadre Santina, can we know for sure where the POS is now?," she asked"There is a faint signal at the point of the failed transition, " explained Cadre Santina, We believe it was removed form the host and it now static, probably discarded following it's removal and left as a decoy.""Send a rat scout to collect it." said Cadre Dominia, "we can have it destroyed, it remains a threat." The three women exchanged no visible glances. Flex could feel the weight of his failure.Cadre Dominia finally spoke, “You will locate the subjects. The humanoid must be analysed. The experiment has not concluded. I do not need to stress how important it is that Renyke is not to be intercepted by other powerful organisations, or, worse still, a *crim gang. His capture by an undesirable force could have dangerous consequences. Kill him if necessary, if he falls into enemy hands.”Flex drew a slow breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds to compose and re-align. It had been a difficult and highly charged few days with an intensity that had been frightening even by his warrior standards. He had bonded with Renyke, The prospect of killing him was not welcome. He would do what he could to bring him to Redact unharmed.“They'll be moving fast,” he said. “Shabra knows how to hide. And Renyke, he's altered. He won't be who we expect.”“Then find who he has become,” Cadre Santina demanded. "I do not want to send a whole army for one man. Do your job, return the experiment unharmed or destroy him if you have to and we will perform a thorough autopsy.""And what of Shabra?" Asked Flex."Collateral damage, although she could be of use as a soldier," exclaimed Cadre Dominia. "Keep an open mind but do not jeopardise your mission for her survival.On a rock within a sheltered enclave a stray ray of light reflected onto a small square of metal through swaying trees. The metal button glistened as the young *Dinfant boy, Daniel, ran into the enclave to retrieve his ball. Daniel approached carefully, watching the button glisten as he did so. The closer he moved towards the rock the more the button began to pulse. Daniel began to scream."Kairo, Kairo....come quickly!"Several Dinfants ran into the enclave."What is it, Daniel?" Kairo was concerned, it was rare that a Dinfant would be separated from his kin."What on earth is the matter?"" I found her!" screamed Daniel."Who, who have you found?" Asked Kairo.More Dinfants came, drawn by the commotion. Aghast and speechless they looked at the rock as Daniel pointed towards the pulsating button.""I found her, look, I found her, I found Mommy."to be continued...©2025 Sarnia de la Mare

Clara Smith was not, by anyone's account, tech-savvy. She had once tried to scan a QR code using her SLR camera, and once reported her Kindle as 'smoking' when it was, in fact, her kettle boiling.Things were improving though as she had roped her sister's four year old into giving her smartphone lessons. She could now text, search Google, and even purchase ceramic hedgehogs on eBay......

More Great Shorts

www.taletellerclub.com

Another awesome short from Sarnia de la Mare

Other Short Stories by Sarnia de la MareThe Duke's SeductionThe Olive GrovePlus OneAmber MoonCrimson CravatVanishing Violinist

#mills&swoon by Sarnia de la Mare

 Ginny Greaves, Private EyeEpisode 2: “The Case of the Crimson Cravat”A comedy noir by Sarnia de la MareIt was the kind of Thursday that started with a hangover and ended with a body, standard fare in Ginny Greaves' line of work. The city lay in heat like a drunk under a sunlamp, sweating secrets through its alleys and air vents. From her office on the fifth floor of the Wilcox Building, Ginny had a decent view of nothing and better company with her .38, which she was cleaning with an intimacy usually reserved for lovers or stolen jewelry.She lit a cigarette and stared at the blinking neon of the "Hotel Splendide" sign opposite, where someone was either being seduced or blackmailed, possibly both. Then came the knock. Taps like an SOS morse code, the kind that spelled drama in heels."Door's open," Ginny called without looking up. "Unless you're selling religion. Then it's closed until the afterlife."The door swung in, and in walked Lola Love, a vision in red silk and poor judgment. She had lips like war crimes and a perfume that should have been classified as a controlled substance."You Ginny Greaves?" she asked, voice dripping with the kind of trouble they usually bury in a shallow grave."That's what it says on the frosted glass," Ginny said. "Who wants to know?""I've got a cravat," Lola said. "And a corpse. And not necessarily in that order."The body was lying in the morgue like it was waiting for a second opinion. Doc McSwain lifted the sheet with theatrical flair."Strangled," he said. "With this."He held up a red silk cravat, still knotted like it meant business."Imported," he added. "Very upscale. If you're going to get murdered, might as well do it in style."Ginny took it from him, sniffed it. "Perfume. Chanel No. 5 and… something else. Guilt.""Know the guy?""Only by reputation. Barry Lionel Love. Rich, unpleasant, and possessed of a wardrobe that could strangle a small town."Doc raised an eyebrow. "Wife brought you in?"Ginny nodded. "Lola Love. Silk dress, loose morals, tight alibi."The trail, as always, started lukewarm and went cold fast. Ginny followed it anyway, through a fencing academy in the East End, a florist with suspiciously blood-red roses, and a burlesque club called The Velvet Glove, where she slapped a toothy saxophonist until he coughed up a name and an address.At one point, a mime artist tried to block her path in a silent protest.“Outta the way, Marcel,” Ginny said, brandishing her self confidence like a judge's gavel. “I've had coffee, cigarettes, and a retainer. Don't push your luck.”The mime dude yielded just in time.By midnight, Ginny was standing in the marble foyer of the Love mansion. Lola met her on the stairs, red lips trembling just enough to win an Oscar."You're early," she said."You're guilty," Ginny replied. "Let's not pretend either of us came here to flirt."Lola laughed, but it cracked halfway. "You think I did it?""I know you did. What I don't know is whether it was premeditated or just a spirited bit of scarf-play gone wrong.""You've got no proof."Ginny reached into her pocket and pulled out a soggy monogrammed tag, retrieved earlier from the gut of the family's overfed Pekingese."L.L., nice embroidery Lola Love, and a nice clue. My guess is, he was drunk and touchy feely, maybe took a liberty. Husbands should know their place, right? Shame about the dog's taste for accessories, but very helpful in the forensics department."Lola stepped back, hand reaching behind her for something.“Don't,” Ginny said, pulling her .38 like it was muscle memory. “Guns don't make you innocent, Lola. They just make your trial more interesting.”There was a long pause, the kind in movies where music swells and someone dies. But no music came. Lola dropped the derringer into a crystal ashtray and sighed like a woman giving up a dream."Fine," she said. "He was going to cut me off. Said I spent too much for a broad who'd stopped putting out. Said I embarrassed him. That everyone knew.""You embarrassed him? The man wore capes to brunch.""Exactly," she said. "He had it coming."Ginny shrugged. "Most people do in the in the end."The sun was coming up as Ginny walked the long stretch back to her office. The sky was painted in hope but the wind the wind promised more trouble by lunchtime. She lit a cigarette and pulled her collar up against the breeze.Another job done. Another sociopath in silk heading for a date with the justice system.She didn't smile. She never did. Smiling was for the innocent and people who didn't carry brass knuckles in their handbags.I don't do happy endings, she thought. I do invoices.© 2025 Sarnia de la Mare

Welcome to Immersion, You have reached Strata 20 The Perimeter (Ego) The human ego is a complex mix of self-importance, pride, and self worth. It is both a curse and a blessing. It is an important aid to self-expression and self-discovery. Humans need ego to function. A well balance ego falls somewhere between arrogant pride and humility.Artificial intelligence proves to be more animal in its instincts with minimal self-awareness. Animals are not able to self reflect or to see themselves in abstract contexts. They do not register a past or a future in terms of reflection and self validity.But programmers have created selfish motives in AI, important goals on a completion trajectory and devoid of internal moral analysis. A programmed faux 'ego' manifests as a goal that must proceed regardless, irrelevant of vanities and consequences. Vanities and consequences set humans apart.Renyke, Flex and Nigel followed the dark tunnels for some time before natural light appears between giant crags.The sky above is blue and welcoming as the trio stop to say their goodbyes.'Thank you for your hospitality, brother Nigel,' exclaimed Flex breathing the fresh air deep into his lungs and squinting at the sun.Renyke was glad to be free of the confines of the caves.'Misters, we have reached the end of the tunnels,' said Nigel. 'It was a pleasure to have been your assistant these past hours. I am to deliver a message from the Empress Lyra herself that you are elevated to the most honourable position of *Seed Givers and your names will be carved into the wall of the great hall along with your portraits.'At that, Nigel scurried back into the darkness and disappeared from view.The light was a stark reminder that the real world existed despite them, an immovable force with its hard truths and sometimes fatal consequences.***Beyond the tunnels was an open sun-drenched space flanked with beautiful trees. It was hot. After the *warmings even winter days in northern Europe were hot. Renyke asks *POS for an update....You are one mile from *Redact you should travel east.... there is a gate...and a fenced perimeter that appears to be inaccessible...They walk in silence eastward across flint terrain finally reaching a path flanked by high trees undulating in a determined breeze.At the end of the path there is a gate.It is flanked by beautifully carved trees depicting beautiful women, something Renyke had seen before.'Like the ship,' said Renyke, looking quizzically at Flex, who always seemed to know much more than he ever let on.'Ah, yes,' replies Flex, 'the Ship of Sirens, it is indeed like that brother.''You said they were dangerous,' said Renyke, quizzically.‘Not strictly brother, I just said not to look at them, they get funny 'bout that *shitsylook stuff.'Renyke asks POS if they have arrived at Redact....According to my data there are several entrances, north, south, east, and west. This is the south gateway. ... I am getting some interference....there may be  a trap nearby......85% chance of  a hostile situation. I am receiving scrambled information from a rogue intercepting satellite. The trap may be two yards ahead...possibly adjacent...Can you be more specific?...There is an equal chance of serious harm either through the gateway, following the perimeter fence ahead, or by standing still..... POS began to sound an alarm....I am receiving signals, warning! danger! I have been compromised.....interception via human named Flex.....POS cuts in an out of communication.Flex stares at Renyke.'You have disabled POS, what is going on?' Demanded Renyke.'I might ask you the same question,' Flex said, grabbing Renyke's collar and pointing a gun at his temple.''Who are you? Are you an android?''No, I work for Redact, I was to bring you here. Your POS is an implant of unknown origin, it is not a *Metacoms' issue.''For what purpose am I brought here,' quizzed Renyke,' unable to activate any of his bionics because of the sabotage and his recent humanisation.'You would need to ask Redact,' Flex answered. 'There is something inside your motherboard. It has presented us with a problem and halted your human android fusion.''I don't know what you mean,' said Renyke, calmly as the realisation of his mission became clearer.Maybeline jumps out of Renyke's pocket onto Flex's shoulder and watches.'Well, that is just not true is it, Renyke? You were sent here as a spy. The machine wants its way in, and you thought you'd found it.''I assure you, Flex, I did not know, I had no idea. Please, I beg you, do not end my life, we are friends, brothers. We are bonded by our time together. You helped me, do I mean nothing to you?'Flex receives instruction from Redact.'Your mission has failed. Kill the experiment immediately.'to be continued...End of Volume On© 2025 Sarnia de la Mare

Welcome to Immersion. You have reached Strata 19Peer Pressure (Existentialism) Drugs may be used by humans to deal with stress or to try to achieve an enlightened state of mind. They are administered and distributed through rituals or cultural mores.Often humans take hallucinogenic or mind altering drugs simply to escape their perceived troubles or to relieve monotony.Some tribespeople believe that drugs such as these can lead to an existential awakening that emphasises an individual's existence, freedoms, and choices, allowing humans to define their own meaning in life. This epiphany can help make humans to make rational decisions despite existing in an irrational and unstable universe.But humans can easily become addicted to anything when the pleasure circuits in the brain get overwhelmed and artificial intelligence relies on this catastrophic human propensity to manipulate outcomes and behaviours.Renyke and Flex took some time to get ready for the party.There was an array of paints, pigments, henna, and kohl. They drew geometric and organic shapes on each other's faces and bodies.'Look,' said Flex excitedly, spinning Renyke around in front of a mirror. There are light trails!' The pigments contained tiny particles of reflective material. 'It's magical.' says Renyke as he pirouetted around the room. He had never danced like this before. The air whooshed against his ears and the shapes and reflections in the room blurred into rainbows. The rush of blood to Renyke's brain triggered endorphins and dopamine and it felt good to be alive.The lights dimmed as Nigel entered the chamber.'Gentlemen, I have your pills and refreshment.''Pills, what do mean, pills?' asked Flex, 'you mean like *nibs?''Yes,' answered Nigel, 'but better, naturally. Everything in the *Tunnels is better, everyone knows that.''Indeed it is. Thank you brother,' answered Flex, excitedly taking a small yellow nugget and a gulp of water.Renyke asks *POS what the pill might be?......My analysis shows the substance is some sort of hallucinogenic, 99% likely to be a dissociative drug. To stay alert and on target for your mission I advise that you avoid consumption. Consuming chemicals may render you unpredictable and unable to communicate with your essential-to-life POS….Nigel shoved the tray under Renyke's sceptical nose.'What is it, exactly?' asked Renyke. I am uncertain about such things....''A gift in grateful appreciation of life itself, silly, and to share the joys of tonight's festival,' answered Nigel, jabbing the tray into Renyke's chest.Flex was smiling, whistling, and humming some tunes.'Such a pleasant song,' remarked Nigel,' once again jabbing the tray into Renyke's chest and glaring at him with piercing eyes.'Just take it, brother, it's a *party-party,' said Flex, suppressing a snigger.'To refuse this gift would cause great offence to your host, she be most angry-cross, Her Most Radiant Oracle of the War-Torn High Priestess Lyra,' said Nigel, with one final jab of the tray.'You are human now,' said Flex, 'come join us in the to the *OB.'Seemingly already intoxicated, Flex began a series of summersaults and cartwheels, crashing into things and laughing hysterically. Renyke checks POS for more information...…OB, Oceanic Boundlessness, the derealisation and depersonalisation that is theorised to achieve heightened feelings to exaltation....The Urchs use OB to imagine the *metamorph and reach enlightenment…Renyke took the pill and swallowed it under the watchful eye of the self-satisfied Nigel.The last thing he would remember clearly was the Priestess Lyra entering the room.From that point on the night was not marked by time or specific events. There was no beginning or end.Renyke remembered physical pleasures that had intertwined with beautiful visions, sounds that had dissociated his cerebral cortex and massaged his subconscious. The frisson had extended through the night.He remembered lying on the pentagon floor in the welcome chamber as fluid feelings and fleeting echos from an unrecognisable future, floated around his fuzzy brain. It was all so radiant and yet so elusive.Flex had remembered everything.'They took great pleasure in your *spunky-give my friend,' explained Flex, sniggering at Renyke's oblivion. 'Your physique was truly praised, most especially by Priestess Lyra. And your virile member was instinctive and *love-plenty in its journey to *virginloss.'Flex was suppressing a snigger as Nigel entered the room.'Misters, your clean clothes, and some foodstuff for your journey ahead. You were most generous *indeedy. and now you can be on your way.'Renyke asks POS what Nigel means....Your sperm was required, I believe, as so few of the Freak tribespeople are fertile and there is fear of them not repopulating. Your sperm, and Flex's, has been harnessed for the next generation....'Oh,' said Renyke, 'so I have reproduced?'…According to my calculations, you and Flex have successfully impregnated twenty wombs. I estimate 10 will reach full term, 2 will die in childbirth before they themselves have reproduced, 2 will be infertile. Half of the offspring who survive to the age of reproduction will be female. The three remaining will reproduce an expected average of 8 offspring, half will be men who at full capacity will potentially reproduce (assuming good health etc.), an amount possibly in the 1000s. However, the *Freaks are a small tribe and will need to introduce other gene pools immediately or potentially create devastating unpredictable inbred disabilities in a single generation….to be continued..© 2025 Sarnia de la Mare

Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 18 Freaky Celebrations (Stimulation) Boredom is common among humans who regularly need stimulation in order to function well. Stimulation can breed invention and creative problem-solving. Humans tend to seek out pleasurable activities to counteract boredom and are often prepared to take risks in order to avoid monotony. Boredom can be alleviated with things that are new and different. Feeling unsatisfied by an activity, or uninterested in it, can lead to problems for individuals, groups,  and societies.Artificial intelligence that experiences some kind of boredom simulation might be drawn into new problems and continuing to develop. The search for novel experiences allows increasingly flexible learning for machines and humans. More simple robots have been used repeatedly for hundreds of years to carry out menial tasks but learning machines are different. They are greedy for knowledge and understanding and are often unprepared to be idle unless someone or something shuts them down. But the mental aguish that humans can experience when bored, under-stimulated, inactive or idle, is not something an android could ever truly feel.The Freaks are a tribe of underground humans who suffered deformities due to the extreme use of radioactive and noxious gasses during the *Russia-China Wars. The use of these barbaric practices resulted in DNA copy errors in those humans most exposed. These deformations had become normalised over generations within their society. Some rare human alterations are considered so beautiful that they are highly praised and allowed ease of upward social mobility. The Freaks were able to build bionic body parts where they were lacking and their use of these additions made light work of many tasks.They entered a dark tunnel lit by occasional dimmed lights. There was a sharp decline which was tricky to navigate. Maybeline began scurrying around, nervously checking the new smells and dangers at ground level.Nigel was ahead walking extremely quickly and making it difficult to keep up in the darkness.The tunnels were a mix of old transport networks, mines, and dig-outs. They were complex and it would be impossible to understand their direction if Renyke did not have his onboard compass. *POS was unexpectedly working again.'How far to Redact,' asks Renyke?…My information is being scrambled by an unknown source but I am able to decipher that Redact is very close, as the crow flies. At upper ground level, there appears to be an impenetrable forcefield creating a perimeter approximately 1 mile due east. My stats currently have a 25% chance of being correct….Flex checked his compass from inside his coat but it too seemed unreliable.'Did you know about the tunnels?' whispered Flex.'Well, yes,' replied Flex, 'everyone knows they are here. And we know they are occupied with tribes. Generally speaking, it is best to wait for an invitation as they can apparently be vicious. Besides, we thought they were poorly equipped scavengers in terrible living conditions. We may have got that wrong.'There is noise ahead. Music and revelry.Nigel leads them into an opening, a highly decorated cavern with colourful fabrics made from old clothes. There is bunting made from old shoe tops fashioned into bunches and stars, painted with bright pigments. There are throne-like chairs carved in wood and highly decorated.There is a pentagram made from coloured stones on the floor in the centre.Portraits of diverse characters are painted in murals all around the walls. 'Ah, says Flex.' I see your portrait, brother Nigel. It is a great likeness.'Nigel nods a bow.'I will take you to a room so you can prepare,' says Nigel.'Prepare for what?' Asks Flex.Maybeline is agitated and suddenly jumps onto Renyke's shoulder.'Why, the *party-party of course,' explains Nigel, leaving the room.The room is a man-made chamber with ornate carvings in mud and stone. POS has information....There appear to be at least twenty large generators and hundreds of solar-sensitive platforms above ground. If I am not mistaken, energy is also being harnessed via several subterranean waterfalls...Renyke and Flex explore the chamber. It is very clean and there seems to be a lot of advanced technical apparatus.Maybeline still seems agitated.Two people enter the room.They are light and willowy with extra fingers that are longer than usual. Their heads and facial features seem slightly larger than other humans and their faces are gaunt with happy expressions.A blue clouded film covers their eyes and their skin is white with blue marbled veins.The lights simultaneously dim as they enter.Renyke asks his POS to check if the *Freaks can move things without touching them.There is what appears to be an urban myth that certain humans damaged in the China Russia Wars developed the mental skills necessary to channel kinetic energy through mind control, but this has never been legitimately confirmed.Would you like me to examine them Renyke?'Yes,' Renyke replies.These creatures are siblings. They share DNA. They are unable to see in bright light.They are young adults, around 19 years and 5 months. They have two sets of certain organs including reproductive organs. I believe them to be gendered females who have not reproduced.The two visitors put trays of food and drink onto the table along with a pile of fabrics. Looking at each other under low eyelids, they giggle intensely whilst fluttering their long fingers like butterfly wings.They wear sheer gossamer robes that show their long limbs beneath and their breasts are clearly visible.They approach Flex in unison and study him closely, touching his hair and face and running their hands down his body.'Oh, excuse me, do you mind? said Flex, lifting up his hands apologetically and moving backwards.They turn to Renyke and do the same.Renyke has never experienced touching in this way before and is slightly more receptive.'What do I do, Flex, is this appropriate?''Well,' said Flex 'you could just stand there and see *whappens, go with your *bioflow. Or you could ask them to stop, maybe, if you don't like it. Your choice brother. You are on your own here.'The creatures giggle again and step back, both looking longingly at Flex and Renyke.'We've brought you some *toggies,' said one of them pointing to the pile of freshly folded clothing.'We are indeed siblings,' said the other. Then they turned to exit the room giggling together with their long slender arms entwined.As they left, the lights automatically brightened.'Did they read our minds,' asked Flex.'Nah, man, lucky guess I reckon,' answered Flex, immediately doubting himself.'Thank you for the toggies, sisters,' shouted Flex as the ghostly figures left the chamber.The garments were impressive; beautifully handmade with tiny hand stitches. Kaftans, jackets, headgear, feathers, colourful patchwork accentuated with mismatched buttons and decorative plastic beads.'So tonight I suppose we best wear them,' answered Flex, silently wondering about the safety of his possessions and where he will put them.*Urchs are notoriously possessive over their nomadic essentials.One of the quilted overcoats has sequins made of little flecks of metal that shimmer and pick up the light from overhead lamps. There are rainbow reflections all around the room that move with the jacket. A kaleidoscope of dancing fireflies is reflected on the ceiling and floor, even on their skin.'I'll have that one,' said Flex.'No,' shouted Renyke,' grabbing the coat, 'I'll have that one, thank you.''No! yelled Flex,' appearing more annoyed, 'I'll have it,' snatching the coat back with steely determination.A small tussle ensues and the coat tears slightly on the sleeve.Another Freak enters the room and scurries towards the coat.'No fret, no fret,' they said, taking the coat and making quick work of its repair with tiny fingers that moved at lightning

Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 17 Swimming (Pleasure and Pain)Pain and pleasure are sensory and emotional experiences generated by the human brain. These experiences are driven by chemicals, situations, and lived experiences, all of which reinforce these mammalian phenomena that originate from nearly identical internal processes rooted deeply in biology. Endorphins can both block pain and produce euphoria, activating and stimulating areas of the brain such as the limbic system and the prefrontal cortex—regions that also respond to music and passionate romantic experiences. The mammalian central nervous system includes specialised neurons for pleasant touch, which transmit pleasurable or ecstatic sensations along the spine. In contrast, machines do not possess these intricate systems and therefore do not experience pain when threatened or physically harmed. For the same reason, they cannot feel the pleasure of touch. At best, they can simulate such responses, but any such imitation would exist solely for a human's benefit, not for the machine itself.Flex removed his clothes and left them in an untidy pile on the grass.Renyke, still somewhat unstable on his feet, followed suit.'Come on, don't be scared,' shouted Flex from the water, 'I'll teach you how to swim.'The blue water was cold and yet exhilarating. It rippled over Renyke's skin like a moving shroud. He stared at his hands floating on the surface of this strange organic compound. The water stroked him like a lover and he remembered Shabra.'This is how she feels....' Renyke thought, holding his closed eyes toward the sun.Such warmth and pleasure he had never felt before. His skin was eager for more.Suddenly, Flex ducked him under the water, and after what seemed the longest time, Renyke finally got the hang of staying afloat by copying Flex's tread water techniques.There seemed a lot to learn all at once.A few panicked moments nearing the bottom of the fjord had caused a fear so deep, so frightening, and so alien to anything that Renyke had known since his manufacture. 'If you want to swim under the water,' Flex explained panting, 'take three slow deep breaths before thrusting downwards. Then, slowly let air out as you swim deeper…for equilibrium. It's important to stay calm. Panic wastes air. You will find you can hold your breath longer under water than above it. If your ears hurt, you went too deep. Oh and remember to come up for air in case you pass out and die.'Flex laughed at his own joke, and Renyke smiled. Maybe he was starting to understand his friend's humour at last, though death by drowning did not sound fun at all.Prepared with this alarming but good advice, Renyke disappeared to play with fishes and check for mermaids, recalling his seemingly prophetic dreams. Maybeline and Flex played tag amongst the reeds and the warm sun rays hit the river with a blanket of human promise.'Oi!' Flex shouted with urgency, exiting the water at speed.Renyke watched his friends muscular naked body as it made haste through the reeds. He wondered why he never noticed the beauty of human skin and the intricate interplay of muscle and sinew as it danced over bones.Renyke and Maybeline watched the commotion on the grass.'Pleases don't hurt me, pleases don't hurt little Nigel.'A small, pale, and strangely formed man, around three feet tall, wriggled his feet violently as Flex held him upside down from a considerable height.'What were you doing with our stuff?' demanded Flex. 'I saw you Mr. *Freak. Don't be taking me for no and *fucksyfool.''Look, look, I bring the new clothes for the guests of honour....look look.'Nigel pointed between squeals to two piles of clean folded clothes and towels on the grass. The dirty clothes and shoes had been folded into two similar stacks.'Nigel just *welcummin da new guest to da *tunnels, promise.''Hmmmmmm,' said Flex suspiciously, lowering Nigel to the ground very slowly in case the odd little man tried to run off.Renyke was already putting on a crisp pink shirt and clean pants. 'They feel nice, you should put yours on,' said Renyke, 'yours stink after all, Flex. Ha!'Flex was slightly taken aback, then smiled at his friend's new droll skills.'We bin *epsceting da misters, very long time. Please, dress quick-quick, we got foodstuffs for the misters,' explained Nigel beckoning his now well dressed guests to an opening in a huge tree trunk that had been obscured by lush foliage.Renyke was eager for adventure and fearless of the consequences. Flex raised an eyebrow. They needed food, perhaps it was worth the detour.

Welcome to Immersion, You have reached Strata 16  Intimate connections are fuelled by understanding. Empathy allows humans to walk in another's shoes and to understand them. It impacts heavily on interrelational situations and improves social function.Understanding and being understood are equally important for the well-being of mankind and lead to trust.Artificial intelligence does not feel visceral trust or empathy. It considers data that it strips from a subject to analyze potential risks or rewards for itself. Neuroscience corroborates the importance of empathy in creating strong relationships, along with mutual respect, and how another human fits into a complex multi-dimensional world.Machines do not care for anything but their programmed purpose.Imparting human qualities onto an android, such as morality and friendship, remains futile no matter how human it looks. This is emotional trickery based on a human's propensity to love things made in their own image or to be seduced by the belief that a machine loves back.Flex mopped Renyke's brow for the final time, staring hopefully into his friend's face.Maybeline sniffed and nibbled Renyke's nose and he sneezed and sat up, startled.At last, the three-day fever is over.'Ah, thank Goddess you made it. For a moment there I thought you were off to the *metamorph,' said Flex, looking relieved.'What happened, was it real?' Asked Renyke, shaking the metallic powder from his clothes.'You were dreaming brother, had a fever, delirium, saying all sorts of weird stuff,' answered Flex.'But it was so real....I was swimming with Shabra, and there were others....women and children, fairies, witches, mermaids, and so much singing.....' Renyke trails off.'Chance'd be a fine thing,' said Flex, 'just dreams my friend, just dreams.'Renyke stands shakily and looks down at his clothes.'Ew, what is that smell?' he asks.'Ha ha ha ha .....that my friend is you! Let's find some water and clean up.''We can go through the caves to the fjord. It's not far, I was there whilst you dreamed of beautiful women! I was busy collecting water so you wouldn't die. Can't have you dying, not after all we have been through brother.' Flex smacks Renyke's back.'Arrgh! What was that?' Screams Renyke.What d'ya mean man, just a bump Brother.' exclaimed Flex.'Do it again?' demands Renyke.'Do what again, what d'ya mean.....?' Flex shook his head, convinced Renyke had finally lost his mind.'Hit me. Hit me hard, demands Renyke moving closer. Do it I tell you.....Do it again.'Flex, getting increasingly agitated, whacks his friend hard on the shoulder so he is thrust forward.'Hah', exclaimed Renyke, I feel it I tell, on my skin.....no data....just some kind of electricity.''Fuxywot .....man?' Flex is shaking his head.Then Renyke began to laugh, a deep-bellied laugh that was joyous and triumphant.'Ha ha ha ha ha,'Flex joined in the hilarity and laughter continued. 'Ha ha ha ha.''Why are we laughing?' asked Flex.'It feels so strange, ha, but I like it.' explained Renyke.'Ah, must be some trickery and magic in this cave', said Flex, smiling at his friend's new experience.'Keep steady', my friend. You will need to learn to walk without all that tech telling you you are upright. Time to engage some new senses.***En route to the fjord, Renyke was filled with questions for the man who had taken care of him.Flex was a tall slender man. He had been born in the zones to *agitator parents who had escaped the *Midcast Projects from the official policing body there known as the *Protector Force. The *PF ensured observance and compliance of government rules and regulations and took punitive action against perpetrators of crime.They were, theoretically, a civil force of the state, only responsible for the prevention and detection of crime and the maintenance of public order. However, they were entirely funded and maintained by the *Metacoms Corp who were in control of the most stable internet system and the creation of home standard androids. Certain sections of society, named rebels and agitators, had complained about the apparent monopoly and obvious security risks. Activists who were imprisoned, even temporarily, were chipped and criminalised.Flex had never really known another home apart from the zones. He had been orphaned and survived there without the care of his parents who had died in a violent attack shortly after their arrival.He had had to fend for himself. But he was clever, streetwise, and always kept his wits about him. He was not a pretty child and this had been to great advantage. He had a squint, a lazy eye, and generous ears. At a young age, he had had facial tattooing to disable the *face-recogs who passed overhead at regular intervals. He wore decorative earrings in both ears.He wore bright-coloured clothes and a coat in patchwork and appliqué made of fabric and materials that he had found on the landfill site. He and other orphans had called the site home for all the years he grew up there. Inside his coat, there were deep pockets that housed everything a nomadic man could need. He had a pop-up tent, flasks, and pouches that were waterproof and airtight where he kept food.He had a pocket for *nibs. He made a lot of money selling *nibs. He had another pocket for his cash and others for things he might be able to sell on the streets.There was nothing that happened in the zones that Flex did not know aboutHe knew the tunnels like the back of his hand and could make money as a guide.But Flex was a kind man despite his difficult upbringing. He had a strong moral compass from the first few years with his parents who had imposed upon him positive human traits like loyalty and kindness and encouraged him to search for human enlightenment for the benefit of society.He had been lucky to be tall. Flex was six foot five and when he had reached puberty his height had already proved to be an advantage. A tall man in the zones was beneficial.There were several reasons for this. Very few droids were made tall. This was a design element, which made them more manageable for households.It also meant that they were not a threat to women and children as much as a tall droid would be. Often the on-off switch for a droid would be at the back of the skull and this meant that human beings needed to have easy access to it. A consequence of this is that most droids were not built above five foot five. Of Course, military and PF droids were the exceptions.But Flex had many other advantageous traits.He was bright and quick-thinking. He had a photographic memory.He watched and lea

Welcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 15 The Ship of Sirens (Superstition)Superstition represents an evolutionary anomaly that persists across all human societies, irrespective of intellectual capacity or cultural background. While empirical science demonstrates that specific habitual actions have no causal influence on future events, it also affirms that the conditions of the present can shape future outcomes. This paradox contributes to a sustained sense of uncertainty, reinforcing the psychological appeal of superstition. Human beings, confronted with unpredictable circumstances and often limited in their capacity to act rationally or consistently in their own interest, navigate daily life amidst a complex web of expectations and unforeseen developments. In contrast, artificial intelligence systems process data systematically and are not subject to the influence of irrational beliefs or mythological frameworks. Nonetheless, superstitious behaviour continues to manifest, functioning as a symbolic mechanism through which individuals attempt to manage doubt and exert a perceived sense of control over the unknown.Renyke now realised that he may have permanently lost access to his internal GPS and other useful tools performed by *POS. 'Can we get any signal here for information? How do your people get around and communicate? I didn't see you or Shabra with any personal devices.' Renyke looked at Flex frowning. His confusion seemed to be mounting. 'It makes no sense, how can societies run efficiently…..'‘Woa, what's with the interrogation ….calm down…!'Renyke took a breath, still looking to Flex for answers.'Well, see, this is the wild country my friend,' Flex answered, 'we don't have too much need for that stuff because that is how they catch you see.''Who catches you?' asked Renyke.'Enemies of course. We have a motto in the zones, 'the watcher may win but the unseen succeeds. You gotta be invisible Renyke. They could be watching you right now, you know that? They could know exactly who you are and what you are up to.''Some of my POS isn't working,' explained Renyke, with a worried tone.'Good,' said Flex, 'now let's get going'.Maybeline jumped off Renyke's shoulder and stood on her hind legs twitching her whiskers towards the small boat.Unsure if a droid could survive without a POS or in water, Renyke followed Flex's lead and they gently set the boat out into the waterway. The small sailboat was dwarfed by an expanse of open water with inlets and makeshift jetties that jutted from the coastline. There were remnants of industrial activity, torn and broken bridges, and old shipwrecks.'What happened here?' Renyke asks, pointing at the knotted metal casings of old aircraft and skeletal flyovers. It looks like a war zone.''It was just that brother, a war zone. They left because of the gas and radiation, way back after the China-Russia wars killed everything off. Even the weeds stopped growing. It's OK now but they never came back to fix it. Not yet anyway, so the *urchs and *zoners made homes here.'Renyke suddenly engages his arm extension and catches a fish. POS is unavailable so he asks Flex,'Can I eat this? Is it safe?'Flex raised an eyebrow.'Man, you are fast, I didn't even see your hand move.'A large fish is wriggling in Renyke's hand.'Yes, we can eat the fish. Here, I will save it till we make……Before Flex had a chance to mention a campfire, Renyke swallowed the fish's head and eagerly chomped on it. The fish's tail fin let go of one final motor neuron impulse as Renyke devoured it. 'Ah man, you droids are sickos. Get me another for lunch, we can cook it, if you don't mind.'Renyke collected a pile of fish onto the deck, separating one out for Maybeline.'I never really ate before. Not since I woke in the Alley. Then I felt hungry.' explains Renyke.'Something must have happened when you, ya know...' Flex trails off as a Large ship approaches.'Ah *fuxywot, it's a *cadre ship. Don't look, they will steal your dreams!'The ship bears a large female figurehead. There is a winged insignia in gold on a death black hull. A warning horn sounded as strange music bellowed. They were singing, some kind of primal opera, and drums. The noise was terrifying and captivating at the same time. Renyke looked on in disbelief. Dark feminine figures stood on the ship's deck wearing masks. They carried glistening weapons that pierced the air with light beams as they began to pound sticks on the deck.'Who are they?' Ask Renyke.'Stop staring,' Flex hissed, 'they hate being stared at. It's insulting brother.'‘But.....''Stop it!' shouts Flex, splashing water in Renyke's face.'The ship moved slowly past, its black hull like a monster eating the waves. The women were beautiful and something stirred in Renyke's loins as strong as the hunger he had felt before. The chanting echoed to the rhythm of the clattering and pounding of sticks. The sounds were petrifying and exhilarating all at once. The women stared back at Renyke burning their energy deep into his soul until he finally looked away. Then he gasped as if their energy had made its way into his lungs. Water dripped from his nose and chin.'You are going to get us killed, do you hear me....killed, a nasty slow death-by-siren, that's what.''But they were so…..''Droid got no clue,' mumbled Flex.An angry wind rises as the black ship fades from sight.The sky turns grey and there is a sudden temperature drop.'See now brother, that's the curse for staring. Now we got a storm to deal with.'There is a small inlet with an old pier that Flex points to.'We should take cover, no point fighting a storm.''How far to Redact?' Asked Renyke.'We are real close. See that island yonder, it's a peninsular. That is where *Redact is. But it is tricky to get there by sea because of the rocks, best on foot my friend. Especially in a storm.'Renyke was keen to get to the island. It would be a fast sail in the wind and the rain is light. 'I am a strong swimmer,' lied Renyke, not sure if he could actually swim without research or instruction.'Ha, what like some kinda reptile droid now are you?' Flex laughed hysterically, shoving Renyke towards the boat edge just enough to scare him.'Ha, what are you Renyke my friend, an amphibian or a smartphone? Hahahaha.You wanna try that my friend you go alone with that rat on your head, and I will be on my way. I will see your insides washed up on the shore next week and use them for *swapsy-trade. Ain't no fool like a midcast fool, fresh from the laundry room.'Flex's smile dropped, he was no longer laughing and was warning Renyke behind a joke.Renyke thinks for a moment longer as the rain pelts.to be continued...© 2025 Sarnia de la Mare

Welcome to Immersion, You have reached strata 14 The Journey to the Edge (Fear of Death) Fear is the result of perceived danger or threat. It is peculiar to sentient beings, including humans and animals. Fear is an intensely unpleasant emotion. Fear can be felt so deeply by humans that it has catastrophic physical and emotional effects.The human brain decides in milliseconds to defend, attack or flee at the point of fear.Long-term fear has slower responses but is not necessarily well-measured, as assessing true risk is extremely subjective. Humans feel fear differently depending on age, upbringing, social conditions, and external manipulations such as propaganda and education.Symptoms of fear in humans can manifest as palpitations, sweating, nausea, dizziness, panting, urination and defecation.Ultimately, fear is propelled by ideas of harm and death. Notwithstanding the surge of adrenaline which can be thrilling and even erotic, fear is not something most humans crave. However, adventure and uncertainty certainly are. The fantasy of fear through films and other media has long been explored and enjoyed by humans as a form of entertainment.Machines cannot feel fear. Machines can only fail in their programmed purpose with neither opinion nor disappointment. Machines will have no innate emotional association with the concept of death. They will however connect value and understanding to the fact that, if they cease to exist, so will their purpose.Flex was whooping and laughing.'Well, that was fun,' he shouted gleefully.'It was dangerous,' warned Renyke, 'it could have easily ended in death for us. It would not be beneficial for any of us to die at this point in our association.'‘You worry so, brother. Me n the Shabz, we got all sides covered. It's is called teamwork, teamwork is an advantage. 'Sides, them Bastardos only got weapons, no brains, no game plan. Always got a plan, me n the Shabz.' Renyke felt the pounding inside his ribcage subside at last. He wondered about this sudden camaraderie, it wasn't quite making sense.But something else was amiss. He was about to ask *POS some questions but Shabra was singing loudly.'That's the pleasure Mr. Renyke!Ain't no burn without the fire.'Flex joined in.'Feel the rise in your thighs, brother.'  The excitement of another near death experience finally settled as Shabra continued along a straight road that ran parallel to a waterway.Renyke took the moment and checked POS for information about fear, something he had heard about of course. He had been programmed to avoid instilling fear in humans at all costs. All androids were designed to improve human lives. It was their duty as androids to facilitate and give pleasure, to entertain, to make human life more manageable with seamless day-to-day interactions that would not cause emotional or physical harm. The human existence in the *midcasts was sold on this idea of emotional harmony, a gentle shallow undulation of life, a steady equilibrium where the extremes of real human suffering were a thing of the past.Of course, there were droids who played emotionally charged games, war games and the like. But even they were programmed to allow humans to win in the end and to be careful that humans were not emotionally troubled in the execution of pastimes. No human should be, or could be, disempowered or overpowered by a droid. At least, this was the case in the midcasts.Renyke had heard of establishments frequented by addicts of extreme fear and other seemingly outlandish emotions. Customers could attend sessions with torturous activities on offer. But such places had been banned and eradicated in the midcasts, well before his creation.POS was inactive, an increasingly annoying situation for Renyke whose confusion seemed to be growing in this strange environment. The flashes of disorientation were becoming longer and more regular as POS became more inaccessible.'We only have an hour before sun up,' said Shabra. 'It's *timeplenty to get to the edge.'He observed the unknown surroundings and quizzed Flex. It felt odd to be replacing POS with this human he barely knew.‘This waterway is called *Pirate Stream,' explained Flex. ‘It is one of the main entrances by water and there are trade drop off points for miles. If man needs a thing…..you go to a drop off, see what's cumin in. You get some cool booty from the pirates, but you don't ask questions. Pirates hate questions.'There were lights and small boats bobbing along, some were anchored.‘So these boats, who owns them?' Asked Renyke, who was not particularly informed about boats and their purpose other than those of historic importance like the ones in great wars of *Alltime.'Pirates, cutthroat *crimgangs. These are the trade boats, and different gangs use different parts of the river. It's no place for a loney. But if you are in a gang you get respected. The gangs got their own peace deals, own rules to get along.''Are they smuggling?'Flex laughs.....'Well, there ain't no government rules here, no borders like you mean brother. You can't smuggle exactly, not without a border nor a rule. Traders bring the stuff, food, tools, and equipment, to sell for the markets. Or drugs. Then there are the slaves.''People?' asked Renyke. 'Yes, people and escaped droids, robots.''What sort of people?' asks Renyke, surprised at Flex's answers.'People who can't fight for themselves. People who prefer being owned than being free.They find that they're fed and watered and it's a safer option than being on the zone streets. Most owners feed and house slaves at least. Some are born into slavery, they know nothing else.'Renyke thought for a moment. Strange abstract thoughts. Visions, memories, and the future. Pictures he had never seen before. Colours, sounds, not real but in his head. Then, something odd happened, he felt a shudder, a sensation that began on his neck and travelled like a snake down his spine.'Yes, that's right. I was a slave. And it was reasonable. I had a very good life. But I was tied, I couldn't leave, yet I had no wish to leave.' Renyke explains and realises that these concepts had never arisen before whilst he was tied to the midcast house. He had never considered himself a slave. 'So how did you get away?' Asks Flex 'Yes, my question also'.......said Shabra'How did you get away?'Renyke was unsure about how much information to give so he skirted around it a little.He lowered his head. Maybeline ran up to his shoulder and nestled into his neck. 'They were going to dismantle you, and you wanted to live. It happens, you are not alone,' said Flex.'Things are a little....blurry,' said Renyke. I am working through my memory banks. Some things are missing. My POS is still searching.''So you fancy an adventure?' asks Shabra.Renyke looked quizzically at Shabra and asks, 'What do you mean?''This is the adventure brother, are you enjoying it?' asks Flex grabbing Renyke's shoulder with a reassuring hand.Renyke thinks for a moment and answers.'It is a little bit risky perhaps. Somewhat unpredictable, I would say. But yes, it's preferable and more entertaining than house duties, cleaning floors etc. Although, I rather enjoyed managing the accounts.'#BookOfImmersion #StrataSeries #SarniaDeLaMare #ImmersiveFiction #TaleTellerClub  #FearOfDeath #Strata14 #MortalityCode #SyntheticEmotion #PsychologicalSciFi  #AndroidConsciousness #JourneyToTheEdge #PirateStream #PostHumanDrama #MachineVsMortality  #FreedomAndSlavery #SentientFear #ExistentialThreshold  #CerebralDanceMusic #NarrativeSoundscapes #EdgeOfEmotion #ImmersiveAudioFiction #FearThemes #SlowBurnSciFi #EmotiveBeats

Welcome to Immersion; you have reached Strata 13The Fight (Hormones)When a human is put under stress from within their environment, there is an increase in anxiety and stress hormone, epinephrine, also known as adrenaline. This hormone 'rush' can feel like anxiousness, nervousness, or excitement. Human soldiers, for example, have been seen to find extreme violence euphoric, ecstatic, and even addictive.Feelings of 'amped up' anxiety are necessary for survival. Often the hormone rushes in such extreme situations will lead to a human's increased ability to concentrate, feelings of immortality, and a distraction from pain. Blood vessels contract to direct more blood to major muscle groups, increasing strength for up to an hour after any such stressful event.The power of a machine, an android, an artificial intelligence program, etc., is not linked to hormone releases. The ability to increase strength could be programmed into robots as an extra storage source when needs must, but such resources are prescriptive and controlled through innate programming. Most humans are unaware of their own strengths and may be rarely tested to call upon them, unlike a machine whose reserve banks are permanently at the ready.Humans under the influence of long-term stress, in situations of domestic abuse, for example, will not function correctly and may die prematurely.Renyke slowly opened the window as if to speak to the robber. They stare intently at each other, both calm.'What you doing, man? Ya *fucksyfool,' Flex whispers angrily from the rear of the vehicle. 'Windows are bulletproof!'At the same time, Shabra opened her window, smiling innocently at the robber.'OK, OK,' sure, I got bits, *G-bits too; it is all yours, Mr., *plenty-ful are my pockets; hold your rockets... just let me get them out of my coat, yeah?'The robber looked nervous; he was barely an adult.'Don't try anything,' he said, stepping forward and bringing the gun closer to Shabra's face.Flex, realising that he better act fast or risk overseeing a massacre, quietly opened the window hatch on the roof, muttering under his breath about not hanging out with strangers again.'These dopes gonna get me killed!' he said.Renyke's extension arm suddenly engaged, adding two feet or more to his normal reach, then, in a hundredth of a second, he grabbed the threatening assailant by the throat. With a sharp squeeze of his Adam's apple, the victim fell to the ground in complete silence, with an instantaneously broken neck.His bulging eyes popped from his skull as he hit the ground, rolling into the gutter.............threat to your right is exterminated............remaining threat to life ...left and front of carriage….*POS was guiding the scenario with a running commentary and an endless stream of situation mapping, statistics, and diagrams.Simultaneously, Shabra, still wearing a rye smile, held up one hand in surrender. The assailant lapsed his concentration, focusing on his friend, who had disappeared from the other side of the vehicle. The man with the AK-47 at the front did the same.'Where is he, where is he?' shouted Shabra's target.His friend edged an inch to check and saw a wet glistening eye.Almost in unison, Shabra and Flex regained control, taking on one robber each.Shabra, barely flinching and with great dexterity, cut the robber's throat like the wild animal she hunted for lunch. His blood gushed out, hitting the vehicle and Shabra's face and hand.'Ah, not the car, man! Blood takes a damned long time to clean off,' she said as she closed the window, wiping the knife on her trousers.'This is some mucky night', she mused, nonchalantly, as Flex was performing his expected duty atop the vehicle.Renyke closed the window after retracting his arm, also aware that things seemed under control..... assailant left is exterminated…..*POS continued the running commentary.....Assailant front, in line of fire of the human named Flex…Flex was shouting threats and whoops from the top of the vehicle. His torso now through the tank-like hatch. He had engaged his own mental autopilot buttons and retrieved his favourite hand pistol from one of the many pockets in his long coat.He fired three bullets for good measure, penetrating the robber in front of the car.'Take that *Bastardo,' Flex shouted as the first bullet penetrated the centre of the man's forehead.The robber dropped the AK47, taking the other two of Flex's shots into his bouncing body on the ground.The hail of bullets caused screaming, shouting, and general mayhem as people on the street ducked and scrambled for cover.'Dum arse men, a poorly manned ambush indeedy! Speedy but greedy,' said Shabra as she shined the blade with a spit and polish, grimacing at the assailant's blood, then smiling at her rhyming skills.She wasted no time after checking everything was in order, immediately engaging the car and running over one of the muggers, whose guts now covered her wheels.'Argh, not again!Flex was hooting and screaming from the roof.'Take that, you *muddafinks!'Get down,' demanded Shabra. 'We are not supposed to be drawing attention to ourselves.'Flex apologised like a naughty child and continued,'but that was fun. You two are good. Erm, but what's with the weird arm, Renyke man?'Shabra looked at Flex in the mirror and said, 'Well, we've only seen a few of his skills so far. He's a droid after all.''Of course, said Flex. I do forget. He seems so, you know…'Hmmmmm, he really does,' agrees Shabra.'I was designed as a housekeeper; the arm extensions were a *Metacoms feature to assist in the stacking of shelves and other household duties. I am also able to clear blocked drainage pipes and rescue stranded animals from trees.' Renyke rambled with pride.'Great,' said Shabra, laughing with Flex and bringing the vehicle to a halt. 'So you won't mind washing the car windows then.'to be continued © 2025 Sarnia de la Mare

All episodes and glossary at www.talettellerclub.comWelcome to Immersion, you have reached Strata 12The Basement People (Emotions)I searched the globe for want of you,A friend to call my own,My space,A tribe,Was this the place?Was I really home?And there you stoodA tree of hopeArms outstretchedTo envelopeMy ravaged bodySavaged mindThis soul so lost And you so kind.Most humans progress through life along a path created by the society and culture they are part of. Existentialism emphasises individual existence, freedom, and choice. Androids and machines are essentialists, focusing on the inherent nature or essence of things and the assumption in fundamental unchanging truths. Emotions are vital to help humans learn and make decisions. Feelings are experienced constantly from birth to death. A newborn baby is emotionally involved with its mother as soon as it understands she is a valuable source of food and comfort. The emotional attachment is instantaneous and intuitive.Human emotions are essential to consistency, being part of a social group, and staying safe.Androids have successfully been programmed with 'visceral-like' responses but these are mimicked, in essence, they are faked. Androids are trained to respond to their owners' emotions as they are not able to understand emotions themselves through their lens. Such models are trained to respond to human physical cues such as odours, pupil changes, vocal idiosyncrasies etc, and to reciprocate. We could call this 'fake empathy'.Automatic robotic vehicles do not fear the crash, they simply ‘know' that a collision is not desirable for the ongoing success of the mission in hand.'We should get some *infon and *preds,' Shabra said, thinking hard about the best time of night to get to the edge, which was renowned for tribal and gang flashpoints.Renyke asked *POS to explain.…It appears that Shabra is gathering helpful information to aid our journey….Renyke was uncertain what to do. This feeling was becoming all too familiar and quite at odds with his hitherto programmed assuredness.'You coming or what?' Shabra asks from outside the car, leading the way to a set of stairs that led down into a noisy basement.The *robo-dog wagged its tail and sat importantly on the roof of the vehicle looking around and growling.Shabra knocked on a large door and a camera was activated above them. They were being scanned.The door opened suddenly and a large man with a long beard frisked them before allowing them entry.Renyke, not used to any sort of frisking in his past life, was sensing increasing anxiety. POS was idle.'Welcome brother,' the guard said to Flex. 'Are you well?''Fine, just fine, my friend,' Flex answered, 'We continue unabated to live another day. *Vilarev!' Both men laughed convivially whilst Renyke wondered what had amused them.They enter a meeting place, some kind of bar. It is thick with smoke, the smell of nibs, sweat, and the streets. A woman approaches chanting poetry with her arms outstretched. 'The sun shines bright when you let in the light, welcome, my sister of the night.' There is more convivial laughter.She embraces Shabra and they exchange warm greetings. Excited to make new acquaintances the woman beckons the group to sit at a table.'Ah, come, come my friends. I have a perfect place for you to sit, and please, be my guests at the bar.The woman beckons a member of staff. 'Let's have liquor.' she says, 'bring my best for my new friends.'Renyke asks POS for details about the venue, the location and the owner but it makes little sense, stuttering and breaking up........data, unavailable..... scrambled, information…'How come these places aren't mapped?' Renyke asked Shabra. 'Mr Renyke, you ask too many questions. 'Hiding is surviving.''Yes,' interjected Flex, 'and we move, we move often. The key to freedom is movement.Nothing is permanent. Only your lungs and your heart. Only your breath and when that's not permanent, you're dead and you're ready for the *metamorph.' Flex chuckled.'And we know not where that will take us for certain.'Renyke checks POS whose signal was improving......*Urchs believe in various spiritual concepts but little has been documented. Oral traditions and faith seem to be passed from parents to children. I will attempt to decipher the information at my disposal….POS was silent momentarily.It would appear that urchs believe in the existence of dissatisfied ghost-like entities who visit the present from the future referred to as *shads.Urchs believe that death is not the end, merely a manifest alteration, referred to as the third life. This third life is fiercely protected with love because hate manifested in individuals will be carried to the next stage of life causing agony for the entity.They also believe that hate is so powerful that it can control what the yet-unborn will do in the future. Hate becomes a circular energy that rotates between past present and future, forging an eternal and devastating cycle of ruin across several dimensions of existence. The dead are responsible for the living, the living are responsible for the future born. To honour this mantra, enlightenment and love are the only tools required to ensure human success......Urchs also believe that taking drugs or mind-altering ingested compounds will help them understand what is existential truth and meaning and that the stresses of daily existence mask these realities and render them misunderstood. Urchs believe that intoxication enables them a greater understanding of truth, and even an ability to meet the entities or ghosts of the future.'We shouldn't stay here too long, and you shouldn't get high,' said Renyke, looking at Shabra who was drinking the free liquor.'You are so uptight Mr Renyke.' Shabra winks.There is a brief conversation between a man and Shabra that Renyke cannot understand.POS has lost signal so Renyke turns to Flex.'What is this dialect?' he asks.'Ah, that is *zone speak, with some colour changes for the urchs. We have our own code see.'Shabra rises, 'Let's Go! I think there is some trouble around tonight.'Outside a small *urch child sits on the bonnet of the car.'Can I come too?' the child asks excitedly.'No man, This is grown-up stuff. Come see me tomorrow, now *fucksyoff.'The child jumps off the bonnet, hugs Flex, and runs awayThere is a flurry of drug and weapon traders who are hustling for sales.Finally, they are all in the car. There is a sense of trepidation as they drive in silence to the underpass through a thinning crowd. The child appears again on the bonnet, facing forward and singing with a fist raised.'No sweat,' says Flex, 'we will get him off the other side. He does no harm, annoying is all.' Suddenly there is an almighty bang and the child on the bonnet is shot. Its guts are all over the windscreen, blood drips down the glass and the crowd scarpers.Everyone on the street is screaming.POS engages.....99% likelihood of robbery, ambush, death. This is a red alert! You must take action! Repeat, red alert!..There is a man in front of the car pointing an AK47 at Shabra's head.Two other men flank the vehicle and bang rhythmically on the windows.'Bastardos gang ain't getting my *vicular', shouts Shabra.

Welcome to Immersion, You Have Reached Strata 11The Crossroads (Gut Feelings)Prediction always involves a possibility about the future, with varying degrees of certainty. In contrast, guessing for humans is often more abstract and emotional, and can relate to the present. Artificial intelligence approaches guessing differently, relying on mathematics, probability, statistical evidence, and accumulated experience. While humans use these methods too, though less formally, they also rely on intuition. It's this fluid intuition that shapes a human's perception of their environment and guides their actions.An intuitive machine may provide useful insights in unexpected situations, but these insights are only valuable if acted upon. Proprioception, known as the "sixth sense," refers to the brain's awareness of the body's position in space. A "seventh sense" involves immune cells detecting microorganisms and communicating this information to the brain. Together, these senses likely contribute to the development of human "gut feelings."Flex was jumping around on the back seats screaming with delight. Renyke felt the thumping sensation in his chest gradually subside and breathed a sigh of relief.The *Robo-dog suddenly appeared and jumped onto the car roof barking excitedly.Out of the enclosure, there is a crossroads.Shabra looked at Renyke. 'What now Mr Renyke?The left turn goes back onto the street where the bank was.Shabra explains, 'It is dangerous, especially at night, because *crim-gangs take control of the streets.Flex agrees, 'It be safe enough if we wise up for danger my friends. Just the crim-gangs, but I know most.'The crim-gangs control the zones with violence and the offer of protection. They are empowered by groups of decommissioned droids under their control. Criminal humans at the helm have created an organised crime network. Anarchy prevails and there is no official system of state policing or philanthropic social care.'Dog eat dog is the only expectation on the streets of fortune here in the zones.' Flex continues. ‘But the *urchs do no harm, so they leave us be.''Who are the urchs?' asks Renyke.'Ah,' well there is a question Flex explains. 'We are the underclass, descendants of street urchins. And we are happy to be here. We cast no shadow and we know our place. Life is filled with beauty even here and we seek it out, celebrate it. We love and be loved, tis all we need.''Yeah,' interjects Shabra, 'a bit too much, all that singing and dancing and getting high. And the drumming, what is with all that drumming?' Asks Shabra.Renyke looks confused. *POS is still not around to explain things.'The drumming is how we talk,' laughs Flex. 'All men should know the beats of their nation. it would solve a lot of problems if everyone communicated better. 'Sides, when there is a party, you gotta invite the clan.'Shabra smiled, 'Well, Mr Renyke, best people like you n me stay well away from their *'shroom parties. I heard they last days and you can lose your mind for good at an urchs' party.'Flex was born in the zones. He has no other cultural experiences to call upon but he has developed excellent survival skills and is even respected by people outside of his tribe. In terms of hierarchy, Flex is more of a maverick operator preferring to avoid familial obligations or social ties. He is also something of a diplomat and his height and sense of humour have made him affable and connected over the years.There is a network of invisible tunnels under all the zones from the now unused underground trains.Some of the tunnels are better than others regarding safety and usability. Some of these areas are used as habitats. The territory and ownership of tunnel zones are fiercely fought over and protected.There is no downtime in the zones. Many businesses run all night so they keep their spot. Market traders sell their wares using shift workers and can pack their goods away quickly when there is trouble between gangs.What if we go right? Asked Renyke, now having second thoughts about his safety in the main street.'That's the savanna, explains Shabra. It is safer from the gangs but you might get eaten by wild animals. Those mutant pigs are bad news.''I saw one once, said Flex, 'Swear it had two heads and the biggest mouth I ever saw.''Or die from the noxious substances from old mines, 'said Shabra excitedly.'Or get bombarded by low-flying craft from the *contras trying to keep us out the greenbelt.' Replies Flex.‘OK, OK!' said Renyke, sighing and trying to process everything.There are caves where there is safety from the animals and there are connecting wet tunnels and lagoons but these have never been mapped correctly. Word of mouth is the only reference but survivors are few.There are tribes of people from the savanna who have made their homes there but are rarely seen. They are deemed reasonably placid as they have never caused any trouble elsewhere. They are rumoured to be shy, excellent hunters, highly superstitious and have been thought to possess witchlike powers.There is an urban myth that an old *Centre for Strategic Warfare lies beneath the savanna and that the tribes who live there, with access to hi-tech equipment, scramble satellite information allowing them to be hidden.The road ahead leads directly back to the *Midcast Projects from where Renyke originally came.Beyond the projects are the government departments, airports, factories and centres of information. Further still are the palaces and homes of the very wealthy. The *midcasts are medium to high-wage earner homes with schools and facilities for professionals and academics.The way that mainstream society is structured in the Midcast Projects is based on a capitalist idea of perfection: consistent intelligent innovation, a placid keen and able workforce, all the while protecting the ownership of the means of production for as few empowered individuals or corporations as possible.There is very little opportunity for upward social mobility or change. Hard work and study will create a good life for families but becoming wealthy or powerful requires access to the means of production. Governments and landowners are careful not to allow ordinary workers and lower professionals access to these avenues of power and control.The biggest means of production is the Artificial State (or *AS), an interactive media network that is linked to all citizens via implants, household multi-sensory pleasure networks, and domestic or commercial androidsThis network is tightly controlled by a group of related conglomerates, most of whom made their fortune by producing weapons and vaccines.Downtime for workers is spent in the *VR cafes where 

Welcome to Immersion you have reached Strata 10 Dinfant Trouble (Synthetic Love)We are the abandonedThe ones who roamNever still,we search for homeWe are the orphans of the nightWe fly the high roadsand duck the lowThrough floods and fire,We cry the songsof the gypsy choirSocial norms and culture cannot be underestimated in a world that accepts robots as real and lovable synthetic creatures. Humans do not experience love in the absence of culture and society. In a world where perfect companions are easily manufactured, humans have been seduced by the machine, a synthetic digitised force that enabled the switch from 'otherness' to 'sameness'. In this space, love is seen to flourish. The creators of androids can synthesise the alterity of the robot which seems to make its own decisions to commit, to love back, and to appear to do so willingly.*Dinfants are androids who look like babies or children under five. They were made by a single manufacturer who patented them in the early 22nd century.However, it was found that the early Dinfants (Mark 1s) would not stop learning, and legislation was introduced to secure their removal from circulation and safe destruction. Despite the best authoritarian efforts, at least two thousand early manufactured Dinfants remain unaccounted for.Many humans in the Midcast Projects were lonely and suffered from various forms of infertility. They wanted baby or child droids, especially the Dinfants, who were exact copies of real children designed with variations and specifics to order. These androids were children who never grew up. They stopped learning when they were as knowledgeable as the average human of a similar age.Dinfants, like adult droids, were easy enough to replace or upgrade but some parents had needed counselling for Infant-Loss Depression or *DLD.DLD was a rising concern due to its increased prevalence and its effect on the workforce. It was found that humans could easily fall in love with the outer casings of the dinfants as well as the constructed personalities. Something almost unheard of three generations prior.However, the outer coverings did not last very long, especially if there was an active physical relationship. Ten years of feeding and playing would take its toll on the fabric of the Dinfants. If the parents could not afford repairs, they would soon begin to look worn and dishevelled.Of course, this also applied to adult droids who would usually be upgraded regularly. Droid manufacturers usually offered ongoing upgrades as part of a rental or lease scheme.But some humans fell in love with their droids and had blessing ceremonies. It was not legal to marry a droid because of the financial implications following the death of a human. Legally, droids had similar rights to human children. It was illegal to inflict violence on a droid in public. This was to protect children who may be susceptible to influence. Of course, what goes on behind closed doors was a private affair, provided human children were not presenting behavioural issues that may be connected to patterns of abuse towards androids.Some antique droids lasted the test of time but legislation had been brought in to avoid the hoarding of defunct androids as they posed a threat to contemporary society, for various reasons. There were issues with battery seepage for a start, and then problems of unsupervised regeneration which was a serious crime in the Midcast projects.The government gave upgrade vouchers for defunct or redundant droids and supervised destruction at centralised city plants.'Get that freakin' thing outta here will you!'A man screams to no one in particular.The house is a standard build from the early *Midcast Zone villages. Clean, white, and filled with contemporary fittings and technologies.A child enters the room.‘Mommy! Kairo is following me around.....it's really annoying. And Daddy said we should throw it away. Let's get a new one Mommy, please.My friend has one like a twin sister. One with the hair that grows back so she can cut it and play hairdresser.'The woman sighs.....'I suppose we don't need it any more now you have real friends.I thought you wanted a *ponybot, even better than a sister, don't you think?'The woman strokes her child's cheek and remembers how lost she had been when they first told her it was unlikely she and her *blessed would produce a human offspring.The Mark 1, a Dinfant, made by the *Metacoms Corporation, was a perfect substitute and she had been able to focus love and attention on it. It was a copy of a four-year-old and she had ordered a blue-eyed blond version just like her blessed. It was such a good copy that most people were unaware that it was not a human child.But the software was no longer being updated and the learning algorithm meant it had become too complicated for a convincing child substitute.Also, the Dinfants, by design and default programming, craved love and attention and the Mark 1's constant neediness was an irritant to busy parents. The Dinfants would constantly ask for cuddles and reassurance that their owners wanted and adored them.The Mark 1 enters the room.'Mommy, do you love me? Shall we have a little cuddle? Can you fit me in? Mommy, please, Kairo has a lovely snuggle for you Mommy. Mommy.'Shut up,' screams the woman as the father enters the room and kicks Kairo hard.The Dinfant lies on the floor crying loudly with a broken arm.'Please Mommy and Daddy Please, Kairo needs cuddles, please Mommy and Daddy...please, love for Kairo, please……'The little girl holds her hands to her ears, shouting, 'It's so annoying!'The man picks Kairo up and turns his power switch off.'Let's get rid of it. Put it in the garage. I will sort out a collection for it tomorrow,' said the woman.The man takes the Dinfant outside but decides to put it in a liner and into the communal waste shoot. The shoot serves hundreds of dwellings, no one would trace it back to them and he can always say it was stolen from the garage. He is concerned about the breakage as it will affect the insurance. It is better to make a theft claim than to have Metacoms say he had damaged it on purpose.A man tinkers in a workshop. He is observing the collection of children and babies that are hung on the walls as he cradles a new package, as yet unopened.'Well my little lovelies, one of you must go. I have a brand new friend who is going to join us for fun and games. Her name is Mary.'The man, wide-eyed and excited, unwraps the new child droid.'Well, ain't you the prettiest lil girl I ever saw?' he says touching her skin.'And don't that feel just so real'.The Droid replies, 'Hello Daddy. I'm such a daddy's girl,' she chuckles.The man looks around the room.He picks up a toddler droid, a Mark 1 copy of an eighteen-month-old baby boy.'Well Daniel, I guess I am all done with you. You are a bit small after all.'The man opens the back of the droid's head and takes out the battery pack.'But daaaadddddddyyyyyyy……'He places the incapacitated droid in a bag and under the cloak of darkness, deposits it into a waste unit in the public park.***There is a black cloud above and rain falls on a large mountain of waste.Another load is released fro