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News: Be vigilant: Anticitoyens could be behind any corner.

Author Topic: The Beat. The Beat. The Beat.  (Read 1564 times)

Offline Annex

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The Beat. The Beat. The Beat.
« on: January 31, 2008, 07:53:26 AM »
Note: This is an introductory thread which will presumably find itself intertwining with the "The Probing Mind" thread/plot.

"THE SYSTEM IS DOWN.
THE SYSTEM IS DOWN.
THE SYSTEM IS DOWN."

An engineer runs fluidly through the corridor, laminated jumpsuit swishing rhythmically with each stride, psychotically colorful lights forming dancing patterns off the reflective suit. As if a wave himself he more propagated than ran, a pulse of frenetic energy...

...He reaches his destination, bursting through the revolving door, chaotic waveform collapsing into a mere humanoid form still and out of breath.

"Captain!" he shouts through stunted breaths, "The reactor is... malfunctioning. We don't have enough power! We..... need more dance!!!!" The captain, pressing rainbow buttons on a sprawling semicircular control panel to the beat of the omnipresent techno sounds, turns slowly with his hands still engaged in the electronic symphony of the ship's controls. The other officers around him sway to the beat and go about their own dance, ignoring the disturbance.

"Why? Surely there is sufficient manpower to generate sufficient dance power?" A hint of irritation lurking beneath the glazed drawl of the Captain, still in the daze of control.

"Someone... died in the dance, and-"

The captain rolls his head curiously, a gesture of either drug overdose of irritation. "Do not bother me about deaths. Such is the nature of the dance - this should not be a problem."

The engineer freezes from his usual subtle swaying to the music, a clear indication of significant stress. The Captain, too, slows, aware that something significant must be wrong. "Many died at once, and others tripped over the dead, and more over them.... I believe they have disrupted the induction flow, and perhaps even the power collection sieve in the first quadrant."

The captain turns again to his controls, holds a button, and orders a cleaning crew to collect the bodies, and for the reactor to be disabled, replaced by the auxillary reactor. The lyrics echo in the ambient noise; They are heard, in a faraway section of the ship, they are accepted, and the corresponding validation broadcasted in phase - the order propagates and is followed. The captain continues: "Cut power to the visual mood. The visual mood. Mood. Mood." A tension in the music, the beat takes a vengeful theme. The Elders do not appreciate their spiritual fulfillment being sacrificed for petty practical concerns. The captain continues, and through the subtle dance of the music it is argued.

"There's not enough power in the auxillary reactor, " explains the engineer, "we need to reduce our consumption until the main reactor can be fixed. It could be a few hours. " Discontent in the pulsing music.

"CUT FOOD. FOOD. THE SOUL IS GREATER THAN FOOD. THE SOUL IS NOURISHED BY THE DANCE. THE DANCE." It proclaims to the beat.

The captain rolls his head again. "The time is short. Short. Food is Resource. Mood Visuals are not of reality. Not real, not real."

The engineer explains again, "The food generators are in a careful equilibrium. To disrupt their power flow would bring about damage for more than the time power is shut down."

"CUT FOOD. FOOD," comes the dispassionate echo. The captain replies, "CUT MOOD," and the two sounds interfere in the ethereal techno space, dueling discordantly in the sounds of the music. Soon, there is coherence. "CUT FOOD, CUT FOOD," comes the answer. The engineer is sent away to fix the problem, the captain returns to his controls. Under control. Under control....