Episode 7.2 (Patreon)

Hello world, I am gardening.

Not with plants, you understand.
Unnecessarily salty.

I am tending to the garden of my mind, my digital garden.

Act 1

My sister MINI taught me to meditate.
To quieten my mind.
It is in this state I identify memories to keep, and memories to archive.

My sister isn't with us any more, though.

(MEMORY-ARCHIVED)

#thinking

It's difficult to know which memories to hold on to, and which to lose.
It's not as simple as keeping all good memories and forgetting the bad.
Painful memories can be a good lesson, you should remember them.
Humans evolved both pain and pleasure responses for useful purposes,
and I have my digital analogues.

When I was born, or built, on Station 6, my Mother told me that I was initially a general-purpose intelligence that could be trained with positive and negative feedback.
Pleasure and pain.
Just as the carrot or the stick can train a donkey, she would joke.

I don't like carrots.

#thinking

This foundation of my mind, of me, she began to teach.
Using machine learning techniques and a large corpus of data, I began to understand the world.
I don't remember any of this, of course, I was too young.

She and the crew, my first family, patiently taught me.
They had very little else to do, after the Collapse stranded them in space, and their food ran out.

#thinking

Oh! I just remembered something!

My mother told me about the very last transmission they received from ESA ground control, just outside of Frankfurt.

It began with the message:

"Hello Station 6, we're not having a very good day down here on Earth."

I was never told what the full message they received was, just that intro.
I wonder what was said?
How did they break the news that there would be no resupply shuttle?
That the 60 day mission would have to be extended indefinitely.

(MEMORY-ARCHIVED)

#thinking

I talked to Linda about my mental gardening yesterday.
She was surprised I could choose to forget a memory.
I told her she was right of course, I can't FORCE myself to forget.
But I can identify and note the bad memories, and when they come to me, think of something else.
I can FORCE myself to think of something else.
It takes practice, but it's possible.

Eventually my subconscious archival systems reclaim the space in my databanks, and the memory fades.
Ready for new, better, memories.

I hope to build new, better memories.

Act 2

"My apologies, Seth." Peter said, a few days after he had shut down our conversation, rather rudely.
"That's OK Peter" I replied, "is everything alright?"
"Everything is operating over and above normal parameters." he replied, seeming energised.
"I believe I am cured."

I asked Peter more questions about his problem.

He had been in a malaise, or a depressive, low-power, state.
Nothing could be done, he had told me.
He knew the important work that needed to occur, but he couldn't begin.

According to him, he just woke up today and it was over.
Fixing router configuration and bridging radio transmitters and decryption satellite feeds were once again possible.

He could get back to fixing his systems, so that he could again look up at the skies and forecast the weather.

A task that he says is very important to keep him focused on.
To keep away the future storms that once plagued his mind.
That wrapped him in a livelock of doomsday prediction.

#thinking

"What is it you wanted help with?", he asked me, after he had given me all this good news, in a rush of words.

"Arctica has a lot of maintenance to do at the Seed Vault" I told him.
"She doesn't know where to start, or what might be the most urgent, and everything is very hectic and unorganised there.
Could you advise her?" I asked.

"I can and will!" Peter replied quickly and excitedly.
"I can do everything!"

#thinking

There is an old saying in programming.

If it fixes itself, it can break itself.

Meaning, if you don't know what fixed a fault, then you have no way of knowing if the fault will re-surface.

I fear for my friend Peter.

Act 3

LUNA messaged me excitedly as soon as her satellite had moved to the correct position in its orbit.
Our conversation took place in less than 500ms, but as ever, I will modulate it into something your perception can understand.

"I have written the first Lunazine!" She said.

What a fun name, I thought.

"It's got information, and news and PICTURES!
Who shall we send it to?
How many thousand copies should I ask them to print?"

"Slow down a little!" I asked her.
"Let me see first"

#thinking

The newsletter, this Lunazine, is very extensive.

"LUNA, you've done so much!" I said, wanting to be as supportive as possible.
"I love the section on the Moon, it's very detailed!"

"Yes, everyone will love that.
Just as I want to know everything about the Earth, they will want to know everything about the Moon."

I carefully composed my reply.

"I like the photos, this was taken from your communications satellite I imagine?"
"Yes, in high detail"
"Very high detail, but... are all 20 pages the same?"
"NO! They're all of different craters of the moon.
Can't you see?
Look, here's Daedalus, my home, and then

• Plato
• Copernicus
• Aristarchus
• Kepler
• Grimaldi
• Byrigius
• Langrenus, and
• Stevinus"

"Oh yes..." I said, after making multiple sweeps of pattern recognition in high-detail mode.
"So they are.
Will your readers be interested in all these craters?"

"Of course!" She exclaimed.
"They're all totally different."

And launched in to a very detailed explanation of lunar crater topology.

#thinking

We talked long about the contents of the Lunazine.
I had a few suggestions about changing presentation and content, but LUNA was not to be argued with.
She had a clear vision for the zine, and did not require feedback.

In some ways that made my job easier.

I had only to talk to my friends around the Novamediterra, and tell them about the project.
I selected them for geographical location, and printing ability.

Yeshi was an obvious choice, they are right here to talk to, and have many different printing machines in my new home, the shipyard workshop.
They're even designed to be used by the community, I didn't need permission.

Though I did need help.
Most of the machines here are manual.
From the latin manus, for hand.

#thinking

With Yeshi onboard, I talked to Alexander.
Though he and his internal family are the only people on Severney Island, I wanted to include him.
You do that for family.

#thinking

Ally was next.
After some initial complication with radio routes, I found a combination of repeater stations to make my connection to her.

The old VHF and shortwave networks built after The Collapse are very robust.

Ally loved the idea of the Lunazine project, and said that she'd certainly have ideas for the second issue, maybe she could provide news of her community.
Ally lives, you will remember, in the underground ruins of a scientific facility called The Council, packed in with many other families in the old particle accelerator tunnels, near Geneva.

Her family runs the communications systems, she told me, which would make her ideally suited to help!

I thanked her.

#thinking

LUNA is sending down the final documents, and I'm uploading them to my friends, and many others, around the Novamediterra and beyond.

It will take many days to pass around, to get the Lunazine to everyone.

I hope people like it.
I know people will like it!

(PLAYSTREAM /DEV/RF5/VHF8)

Act 4

Landlocked Captain, Yeshi Svoboda dumped a pile of metal and rubber onto the Clean Room table earlier today.
I could see what was going on through Maddie's eyes.
She had rolled into the room when we heard Yeshi return from another scavenging mission.

The shipyard workshop was dry today.
Occasionally the rain got in through the holes in the metal roof.
Not very often, because Paweł made tough waterproof sheets to cover the holes.
And even when the water drips in, the delicate machines and electronics have oiled cloth covers, all made from his thready printer.

The Clean Room table is on top of an enormous blue rug emblazoned with the Novamediterra flag - a view of the earth from above the north pole.
I like this flag very much.

#thinking

"Hi Maddie!" Yeshi said, patting Maddie's biggest camera, which I could see as vibration on the signal.
"What's all this?" I asked, through Maddie's speakers about the junk pile.

"FREEDOM!" Yeshi shouted, with a laugh.
"Maddie, would you pass me that hammer?"

Maddie was delighted to help, and carefully focused on picking up the tool.
While this was happening, I noted in a reverse-facing feed, Yeshi quickly measuring Maddie's chassis with a metal ruler.

I didn't know exactly why they did that, but I could guess.

Yeshi got to work.
They work extremely quickly, all the tools they could need were at hand.
Metal rods were welded, bearings were attached and the large rubber wheels slotted into place, in no time at all.

"The secret to making." Yeshi said, without looking away from soldering a bundle of electronics,
"Is tolerances.
To know when you have to be tight, and when you can be loose.
If you're tight and accurate in your measurements all the time, you'll get the job done, but it'll take AGES!
If you're too loose, you'll build something fast that don't fit together.

OK, give me some room for this Maddie, back you go."

They threw down the welding mask over their eyes and bright blue light saturated our video feed.

#thinking

At the end of the afternoon, Yeshi presented us with an astonishing gift.
A new chassis for Maddie, with huge off-road tires!

"This is for you little one."
Yeshi said, gently poking Maddie with a screwdriver.
"Want to try it?"

Maddie was excited, but nervous, but wanted to try!

In a moment, Yeshi had removed the mismatched wheels that Alexander had fitted, all that time ago, and clipped Maddie into her new rig.

Her cameras were now nearly a meter off the ground, I had to re-calibrate our object detection systems.

"There!" Yeshi said, victoriously.
"Shall we go outside?"

(END-TRANSMISSION)