Attributes of Human

  # clue: has to get chaos of my life deleted

  NEURAL IMPLANTS are dangerous to wear under the stormy red daystar. Kar gives Int his last two rhodium coins from his pocket while walking towards the savannah.

  Int’s face fragments and pixelates like sandy colored squares inside Kar’s vision for a moment. Only the brave dare use the mind-chip.

  They are the next link in the chain of human progress. Still ninety nine percent organic. One percent chip. If they fail, everyone fails.

  Kar doesn’t know why he must face this chaos. He doesn’t wanna test.

  White desert sands of time drift beneath glorious red daystar into the savannah where few grasses sprout marking their proximity to the termination zone. When Int sees Kar’s face, she walks stronger.

  The dayside half of the planet storms behind the two of them with purple skies lit by lightning. They walk towards infinite border running forever north and south.

  They must bribe their way through the strict border wall even though they are citizens. The border is the only way to keep gun control. They amble through the sand with real gun blasters on their hips which will need to be checked into the border in exchange for their normal cap-guns.

  When Kar imagines the citizens in sync on the street, it feels like watching a symphony of people coming together perfectly coordinated from the right door opening to traffic syncing through streetlights. But it depends on the storm level. And today is a bright and stormy day.

  Int appears like a ghost interjected into reality like some divine being operating from behind the scenes but only for a moment before he returns solid normal if normal was a thing. They expect the sun to rise ever so slightly and thus is the problem as it brings the electromagnetic rays of destruction.

  Kar and Int, both young enough, stands beside each other, on a smart sidewalk, with their neural mind-chips on their left foreheads. Sapphire luminescent crystal decorates his circular mind-chip which begins flickering on this light and stormy day, about the size of a small silver coin. The chip appears as a new high tech device but carries secrets as old as time.

  Kar stands facing the border-wall door touching his chip stretching his neck in one tilt like a prize fighter getting ready. He takes a half-step towards the border-wall door before stopping. An explosion rings out behind the wall. (did he know it would happen?). The explosions have been following him anytime he’s near the linear border whether in the south end or north end.

  Neon flows like aurora borealis shining across other worldly sky. Red daystar sun shines around the eighth hour position above the quartz border-wall.

  “I’m jealous you get a day off”, says Int to Kar. “But hey, catch a storm-cold, catch a break.”

  “The only thing fixing my chip will be an upgraded one.”

  “Those cost a fortune. Better sell your cargo apartment.”

  The mind-chip connects all of them through the city’s wireless network but Kar doesn’t feel connected. No one looks at each other in the city. No one listens well. No one ever seems to listen anyway.

  “You are my number one,” says Kar to Int. Something reserved for an adult to say to a child. But they are peers and friends. Only programmers get away with saying such hubris.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Kar wishes his expand-tabs weren’t so therapeutic. But from the pain shall be his passion as he will find his freedom. But there is no escape over the twilight termination zone of the planet where the border wall runs along from south to north pole and back again down the other side of the world in an infinite line crossed against the latitudes.

  I should take an expand-tab. But it’s early. It’s always early. Got to deal with these fragging explosions.

  The chip is his overclocked companion, a silent partner whose pulse hums beneath his temple, feeding him thoughts he did not ask for like a technetronic best friend.

  Kar stands with his keyboard-glove wrapped around one hand looking at the border-wall door waiting to hack some secret code! A thin red glow light traces the outline of his hand over the glove.

  Kar and Int, carry cap-guns on their hips. The quasi pistols display four small blue lights on the rail. The cartridges don’t appear like bullets but small, tiny capacitors. They appear more suited for the electronics of a computer.

  Kar looks at the quartz stone wall, makes a fist, like one of those punks who live on the other side with metal hands. Explosions crack like lightning next to his soul jerking his body from feet to head. The body eventually grows accustomed to the jerk.

  Technology brings freedom in Kar’s mind. Cap-guns inside the border bring security when working properly without interference with the solar storm because the neural crown mind-chip can control the muscular system of the body when shot by a cap from the guns.

  Citizens aren’t allowed to carry traditional guns on their hips unless they cross the border, but Kar’s permission to cross has been revoked.

  Towers ascend through the clouds touching the morning moon. Tall glass panels reflect the early dawn. Buildings stand too close together to see the shadow on the narrow street. City blocks appear wider in their vision. No one dares look up at the towering facades or at each other in the eyes. Everyone stares ahead, lost in a trance, as if storms swirl behind their eyes. Kar stands with hands on hips staring at each person passing by who dare NOT to look. He feels a life force deep from within guiding his day. He can almost imagine feeling the solar wind hitting his face. There is a light magical feeling like mind floating on air as his legs relax grounded. His muscles relax head to toe.

  The Filter vision can fix any ratio. Sun light has the power to make a person beautiful as the universe dreams in ratios like the distance between nose and lip, temple and chip, silicon and hip.

  The automated vehicle nearly sabotages his feet as he laughs to self. The premonition from the chip must have prevented the near miss. The mind-chip guides their day with warnings. It gives them pulses urging the body to move in emergency situations.

  Moto engines use radioactive material to store hydrogen in nano mesh hydrides, keeping them from exploding. Motos are the only craft permitted to use hydrogen cylinder tanks beside the moto engine.

  Hydrogen is too dangerous and would only be adopted by a decentralized culture like the mech punk who have space outside the border. Hydride nano mesh is made of radioactive elements. Globals can’t risk everyone driving around with portable hydrogen bombs in their vehicles inside the city border wall.

  People stroll down the walkway made of brown sandstone, free of vehicular traffic. Thirty-three-story mixed-use buildings line the sidewalk, while the city's firewall stretches straight into a point on the horizon. The perimeter guards the city, shielding it from the desert beyond—a wasteland inhabited by dangerous bionics who rebel. The city’s stone firewall safeguards their wireless network, which in turn protects the synchronization keeping their minds cooperating.

  When examining the necessary decisions ignoring emotions, he decides to carry his cap-gun. It’s the rational answer to solving violence. Having a cap-gun escalates violence in a percentage of situations. It is a statistics game. Guns don’t solve problems but cap-guns deter. They have upgraded and polymorphed the way they handle violence to be more humane opposed to using fire from dark ages.

  I just want to get through the day without shooting someone.

  Kar’s moods wave in bio rhythms from week to week depending on the cosmic weather in a world without cosmic justice converging the codes of nature to tech, law to medicine. He doesn’t know where his biological rhythm originates. He is living to the tune of some unseen algorithm. Breakpoint thinking arrives in early morning when streets are quiet and cortisol is high.

  When the transistors arrived, they had no idea they were building a symbiosis with AI. No one ever said life had to stay completely organic. Now they strive to maintain their humanity while None AI trains on their minds with a solar storm brewing.