CODEX INITIALIZED
<LOG RESET @931.461.60231.14.vt920>CAS.QTERM
Constructs
tciv.art
Modifier
vslvsk
Connection
08.21.vt090
Dead Drop Messages
ANALYZING…
FILE TYPE: Inert Message
PERIOD: Present Day
TOPIC: Shell Death
SUMMARY: A Runner has questions for you. Text scanned from a hard-copy message left on Tau Ceti, presumably by a Runner.
===================================================================
If you're reading this, you're not totally useless. I have something to learn from you:
Did you kill me?
This is my message in a body. An experiment. The beginning of a dialog. I want to know if you felt the warmth slip from my shell as you looted my body. I want to know if hematocyan stained your shell's hands blue. I want to know if you could see when the light left my eyes.
I am Thibault. I pilot a Triage shell, Aux personality matrix. It has been my purpose to extend the lives of my comrades as long as I can; death and I are very old rivals. As a Runner, death is merely a moment's agony. It is as permanent as a nervous twitch. I used to keep a tally of how many times I have died, but the number grew so large as to become boring.
I have a question for you:
I want to know: Am I different? Or do I conform to the mean? I need data, because when I die, there's a hiccup. A continuity break. Uptime cutoff while my consciousness is recompiled back in my Cradle. I cannot abide that blind moment.
Was I angry? Was I afraid? Did I die like a worm? Did I die like a god?
What happened. What happens. Tell me. Write me a message and leave it for me to pull from your corpse. This will be our dialog.
===================================================================
TYPE: TEXT [X]; AUDIO [ ]
FILE TYPE: Inert Message
PERIOD: Present Day
TOPIC: Shell Death
SUMMARY: A Runner has questions for you. Text scanned from a hard-copy message left on Tau Ceti, presumably by a Runner.
===================================================================
If you're reading this, you're not totally useless. I have something to learn from you:
Did you kill me?
This is my message in a body. An experiment. The beginning of a dialog. I want to know if you felt the warmth slip from my shell as you looted my body. I want to know if hematocyan stained your shell's hands blue. I want to know if you could see when the light left my eyes.
I am Thibault. I pilot a Triage shell, Aux personality matrix. It has been my purpose to extend the lives of my comrades as long as I can; death and I are very old rivals. As a Runner, death is merely a moment's agony. It is as permanent as a nervous twitch. I used to keep a tally of how many times I have died, but the number grew so large as to become boring.
I have a question for you:
I want to know: Am I different? Or do I conform to the mean? I need data, because when I die, there's a hiccup. A continuity break. Uptime cutoff while my consciousness is recompiled back in my Cradle. I cannot abide that blind moment.
Was I angry? Was I afraid? Did I die like a worm? Did I die like a god?
What happened. What happens. Tell me. Write me a message and leave it for me to pull from your corpse. This will be our dialog.
===================================================================
TYPE: TEXT [X]; AUDIO [ ]