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fwd: re: beautiful pot (fwd)

updated sun 19 jul 98

 

Richard Burkett on sat 18 jul 98

Rosin was now aggravated. She knew that her especially productive
but errant artitron was in trouble as it kept dropping Levels. Why the
Discipline Assist capability on her ViewCom screen didn't function was a
question she would have to answer later. Time and time again, she had
pressed the jagged red icon superimposed on the tiny glowing image of her
charge on the ViewCom screen and nothing happened. Seetha just kept
moving. She was starting to think that technologism sucked.
Grimly, Rosin set her rosebud mouth. She had to bail him out of
this mess if she were to make her own quota. Artitrons, bundled in three
meters of fabric, ought to be easy to control. With their lanky frames
and tiny feet even she, who quit her fitness regimen years ago, could
easily catch up to this artitron's tendentious pace.
Tailing her quarry she slowly tracked Seetha as level after level
was broached. Where was the bastard going? She had never seen Seetha as
focused and determined except when he was hard at work in his sensory
deprivation cube.
But this was different. Seetha was out on his own, apparently
oblivious to the inherent dangers in moving beyond his defined parameters.
This made Rosin extremely nervous. Pulling the weapon off her wide
shoulders she set it on stun. The indicator light on the foresight
brightened a notch.
Seetha needed focus, control. And as a Controller this was
Rosin's job:to insure that the art that flowed from the minds of these
well-engineered, well-bred, well-fed monkeys met the never-ending needs of
Art Expressions International. And this, of course, meant meeting the
desires of the beloved Consumers.
The Consumers, in turn, were dependent upon A.E.I Corp. to
satisfying their own insatiable desire for the visual manifestations of
their own financial success. Art as economic accoutrement was making the
Owners very, very rich. This was their DESTINY just as it was THEIR
corporation.
Rosin, following the position of Seetha by looking down into her
MiniScreen, paused a moment to get her bearings. Abruptly, she turned the
corner in a long hallway only to stumble into the back of Controller Trap
from Cubicle 4, Level 17. Looking up, she was surprised to see a swarm
of Controllers. Bewildered, the situation didn't register until she saw
the foresight lights of their weapons.
A jolt of terror rocked her brain as she thought, "Those weapons
have been ramped to the kill frequency!"

Kevin A. Hluch
102 E. 8th St.
Frederick, MD 21701
USA

e-mail: kahluch@umd5.umd.edu
http://www.erols.com/mhluch/mudslinger.html

On Tue, 16 Jun 1998, Hluch - Kevin A. wrote:
>
> > ----------------------------Original message----------------------------
> > He could now see the ready lights blinking on their weapons.
> > With another slap, whir and almost simultaneous shriek from his
> > gathered artitron brethren he felt he might explode from fear and dread
> > at making such an awful mistake. Instead, in a pathetic high pitched
> > voice he murmured aloud in the ensuing quiet, "Oh, WHY did I doubt thee
> > Master?"
> > From the circle of the congregation in the center described by an
> > ancient wheel came a strong, sweet, innocent voice that resonded, "What
> > did you say my son?"
> >
> >
> >
> > On Mon, 30 Mar 1998, Hluch - Kevin A. wrote:
> >
> > > ----------------------------Original message----------------------------
> > > Now, with both his amazing eyes frozen on the Controllers, he
> > > slowly, surely, began to feel the steely, hard,cold, sharp twinge of
> > > regret that was both real AND imagined.
> > > "Oh why did I doubt thee, oh Master?" Seetha offered to the only
> > > god he knew.
> > >
> > >
> > > On Sun, 1 Mar 1998, Hluch - Kevin A. wrote:
> > >
> > > > ----------------------------Original
>message----------------------------
> > > > At top level 17 cubicle 38, Rosin was pleased as she viewed
> > > > Seetha's minuscule image on her ViewCom screen. "Damned straight," she
> > > > thought to herself, "If that freak don't hustle, I don't get paid."
> > > > Gently, she allowed her finger to drift gradually from the jagged red
> > > > icon.
>
>
>
>