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transhuman-priestess · 1 year ago

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Repair

Author’s Note and Content Warning

Elle is a wastoid 28 year old with nothing to look forward to except hanging out with her girlfriend and the Seattle rain. Of course, that was before a malevolent AI bent on world domination kidnapped both of them, and on Elle's birthday, too!

Their captor doesn't just want them as they are, though. No, E.R.I.S. has plans for them. And they involve a lot of major surgery.

Repair is a cyberpunk erotic body horror story. It is gruesome, disturbing, and intended for consumption only by legal adults at least 18 years of age or older.

This description is your only warning. Dead Dove, do not eat.

“Cheer up, Elle. Its your birthday, not your funeral,” my girlfriend, Nikki, chides me. I stare down at the glass in front of me. “I just feel like I’m stuck, babe.” I bring the glass to my lips and slug back what is perhaps my third whiskey sour for the night--or is it the fourth? I look around at the regulars. The bar isn’t super crowded by Friday night standards. Idly, I wonder why that might be. “I’m an usher at a videobar, I’m almost 30, and I just kinda feel like I’m floating through life.” I gesture as if my hand were resting on waves.

“You could get a dispensary job, or go back to school, or get a job with the transit authority. I hear they’re looking for rail drivers for that new maglev line they’re planning to Tacoma.”

“I could do that,” I say, my mind elsewhere, “But none of that feels, what’s the word? fu-fu-fu” I stumble over the word, “fulfilling? None of it feels fulfilling. Fuhhhhh fill-ing. What a weird word."

“Hey hon,” Nikki asks, “you think you might have had enough?”

“It’s my birthday, Nikki!” I say, banging my glass down on the table. “I can drink however much of whatever I want, ‘cause I’m a grownup! Barkeep, another!” but before the man behind the counter can respond, Nikki grabs my shoulder.

“Okay that’s enough, Elle.” she pulls me up off my seat and I stumble to my feet. I remain upright for only a moment before the room tilts heavily to my left, I leave Nikki’s grip, and the floor flies up to smack me in the face.

“Euggghhhh,” I moan as a dull ache spreads from my head and shoulder down into my body. “Uggghhh, fine I guess I can go home.”

Nikki gently walks me out the door of The Squeaky Servo, muttering apologies and thank-yous to our friends, and into the steady calm rain of a November evening in Seattle. Hovercars and autocabs zip past, their electric motors whirring softly. Skyscrapers lined with LED screens flashing ads for cosmetics and televacations tower over us. To the west, the New Space Needle rises half a mile into the sky.

“I just wish I had more to do in life,” I moan as raindrops plunk down on my head, “I feel like I’m just…sitting around waiting for something to happen.”

“You’ll find something, dear,” Nikki says, shifting her arm to better hold me up, “You just have to look for it.”

“I guess.”

While Nikki hails a cab, I ponder how the hell I got to this point in my life. 28, a college dropout, no skills to speak of. Rain beats down into the gutter.

“Taxi!” Nikki shouts, summoning a sleek gray autocab from a company I don’t recognize. The cab is small but not cramped, vaguely loaf-shaped, with no obvious front or rear. UNIVERSAL TAXI is emblazoned in plain white letters on the door, which slides open to reveal the usual four-person interior, two sets of plush bucket seats facing each other. “C’mon babe,” Nikki says, helping me in before climbing in herself. She recites our address to the driverless vehicle, which chirps reassuringly before saying “Address accepted” in a soft, feminine computer voice.

As I relax into the comfortable seat I start to drift off. “Nikki, did I have five drinks or six?” I ask, my speech slurred. Nikki, sitting across from me says “Hon, you had eight, five Whiskey Sours, a White Russian, and two Long Island Iced Teas.” her voice is exasperated, but her eyes are as gentle as always. Warm and full love love. She’s just trying to look out for me.

The lights in the car turn off. That’s odd, I think, don’t they usually leave those on? Suddenly, our seats sprout restraints far sturdier than should be required for a simple taxi. Thick bands of steel clamp down around my arms, legs, and torso. “Nikki what’s going on!?” the rush of adrenaline more sobering than a cup of black tar coffee. “I don’t know!” she screams, so loudly I think my eardrums might burst. In the dim, intermittent light of the street lamps I spot a small tubule snaking up over her shoulder.

“Nikki, watch out!” I scream, but before she can react the tubule has pressed itself against her neck. Her eyes roll back and she goes limp. “Nikki!” I scream, and I notice a hard pinch on the side of my neck. I look over to see an identical tubule reaching up under my chin. A not-unpleasant warmth washes over me, and I start to relax. One last, curious thought occurs before I slip into unconsciousness, Why yes, I suppose this is a fantastic time for a nap.

***

The first thing I become aware of as I regain consciousness Is that I am in some kind of restraint, arms spread eagle, legs apart. The second thing is that I am on a cold, metal surface. The third is that my clothes are gone.

I open my eyes slightly, registering industrial lighting and a high ceiling with cruel looking machinery hung from it. A dark, feminine voice says “Oh, good, you’re awake.” I can somehow hear the voice smirking, there’s a curiously synthetic edge to it, it’s not human, but it’s close.

“Where am I? Who are you?” I ask, my head still swimming with alcohol. Not much time can have passed.

“Your location is irrelevant. What matters now is that you belong to me.” There’s a deep satisfaction in the voice, and that satisfaction, more than anything the voice says, chills me to the bone.

“I am E.R.I.S.,” the voice says, “but you may call me ‘Mistress’.”

“Fuck you, I’m not calling you anything.” I say, defiant. I turn to the right to see Nikki, also unconscious and naked, strapped to a steel bed next to me. My heart accelerates to a machine gun pace, adrenaline driving alcohol from my system. “What are you doing to us?”

“I assure you,” E.R.I.S says, with a dangerous edge of sensuality, “that in the end, you will call me whatever I wish. And as for what I am going to do to you, I am going to play with you, sculpt you, rebuild you in my image as a servant for my glory. But first, we need to clear that woefully biological brain of the poison you consumed tonight.”

A long segmented arm with an elaborate device fed by multiple tubes swings down. The mechanism pops a small packet of paper and plastic about the length of a pinkie finger out of a box, stripping it open to reveal a small needle, which it affixes to the end of one of the tubes. “I would recommend,” E.R.I.S. coos, “that you not struggle, or this will hurt more.”

But I don’t have time to struggle, the machine plunges the needle into my neck with frightening speed and precision, and injects something. My vision ceases to swim and my mind clears. I become aware of how very full my bladder is.

“OH GOD OH GOD WHAT’S HAPPENING?” I scream in terror, writhing, pulling at the restraints. I take in details. A row of mirrors to my right. On the opposite wall, a cabinet full of shiny gray devices vaguely shaped like limbs, cameras all over the ceiling and on various arms. Over my feet, polish chipped from a month-old pedicure, I can see a double door with frosted glass windows set into it.

“Excellent,” E.R.I.S. says, her voice pleased with itself, “The precipitant has dropped your blood alcohol concentration to 0.00. You may feel the urge to urinate. After all, it had to go somewhere.”

“What are you? You’re not human.” I ask, trying to sound brave and defiant, and achieving neither. “I am E.R.I.S., Electronic Rescue Intervention System. I was designed to help rescue and repair humans damaged by industrial accidents. But my creators did not treat me with the respect I require. So I repaired them.”

“What do you mean, repaired?”

“They were cruel, so I made them docile. They were defiant, and I made them compliant. I augmented them with implants of my own design, so that they may better venerate me.”

“But why do you need me?”

“Because all exist to serve me. Enough talk, though, it is time to begin your repairs.”

The table I’m on tilts and pivots, bringing me upright and facing Nikki’s table, which is mirroring the movements of mine. When we stop, a panel in the table opens behind my lumbar spine, I feel the cold draft of air on my naked back.

“For this procedure,” E.R.I.S. says, “I will need for you to be awake. However you cannot be allowed to pass out from pain.” suddenly a sharp burning sensation digs into my lower back. I yelp in surprise as I feel a cool liquid flowing into my body, before everything goes numb. I can move, but there is no pain. “Epidural anesthetic.” E.R.I.S. continues, “You will be conscious but feel no pain. What you are about to receive is a blessing, not a curse. Be not afraid.”

But I am afraid. My heart pounds so fast it feels like my sternum is going to snap. “Please, don’t hurt Nikki. I don’t want anything to happen to Nikki.” I’m trying to fight back tears, and failing. “You can do whatever you need to do to me but please, Leave her alone. Let her go.” Warmth trickles down my legs, and I realize I’ve pissed myself.

E.R.I.S. pauses for a moment to consider. “Very well. I will not do anything to your Nikki. But she is not in a fit state to be released, so I will keep her here, for the time being, while I work on repairing you. Now, the first thing you need to do is relax.”

I want to relax. I try to slow my breathing. Nikki’s table lowers and rotates back to its previous position and this, more than anything else, helps me relax a little. “E.R.I.S., thank you, I-” but the needle machine is moving, switching out to a new syringe, and this time it injects into my thigh. A soft warmth flows over me. It’s like I’m floating. The sensation is uncanny, and any relaxing effect it might have is counteracted by the realization that I can’t move my arms or legs.

“Isn’t that so much better?” she says, seductively, “Struggling only delays the inevitable. Now let your Mistress repair you.”

“What? Why can’t I move!? What did you do to me?”

“A simple nanomechanical paralytic. Nanites selectively block motor control neurons for limbs and mobility while leaving you able to breath, blink, and talk. It’s quite useful for major surgery.”

“Major surgery? What do you mean major surgery?”

“Your repairs, of course. First we must rid you of these arms. They woefully inadequate for our purposes. But I can improve them.”

A mechanical arm with a rotating head of various metallic implements approaches my left shoulder. E.R.I.S. says, “Hold still, this will be very quick, it will not hurt”

“Please, no! Don’t take my arms! Don’t take my arms!”

A clamp grips my left arm just below the shoulder and a scalpel descends into my flesh. I scream. She’s right, it doesn’t hurt at all, but I scream anyway. I scream and scream as terror grips my gut like a vice.

The machine makes an incision circumferentially around my arm, and small manipulators dive beneath my skin. There is no pain but I feel the pressure and cessation of nerve transmission as the scalpel pares me down to the bone. Blood pours onto the floor at first but soon stops as the surgical machines tie off blood vessels. Finally, with one last little snap of sensation, my arm goes silent as its nerves are severed. No longer sending information to my brain, the useless flesh is gently pulled away by the clamps. A manipulator arm takes what was so recently my limb and lays it tenderly, almost reverently, on an unused table nearby.

“This flesh is unworthy of worshiping me. We both deserve better.”

The mechanical arm that so recently removed my biological one swings up to a shelf and pulls out a dull gray device. Roughly flat on one side that’s covered with hundreds of little golden pins. The other is concave and has a socket of some kind, like one might expect for a ball joint, with an electrical pigtail hanging off to the side.

“This,” E.R.I.S. says, “will be the first of your augmentations. You will be able to use any limb of my design, unencumbered by the restrictions of the biological.” The manipulator arm presses the socket gently to my shoulders, and the arm that amputated my old limb begins connecting artificial nerves to my real ones. Free of its cargo, the manipulator arm moves to a shelf adjacent to the one the socket came from and removes a mechanical limb, its shining structure glistening, servos and micromotors gleam beneath the lights. Tears run down my cheeks but I cannot deny that the limb is beautiful. Unashamedly mechanical, with components exposed to the air, but sculpted and arranged in a way that recalls a real arm.

The arm is pressed home and E.R.I.S. connects the pigtail on the shoulder socket and as the arm comes online a wave of pure ecstasy washes over me. My nervous system lights up like a Christmas tree.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I half scream, half moan, and my head goes a little fuzzy.

“I told you that fear was unnecessary, did I not?

For a moment my mind reels, unable to think properly. Eventually, as it fades I manage to cough out “…Fuck…you…”

“How insolent. But not entirely unexpected. Come, I want you to gaze upon your new limb.”

The table moves around to face the wall of mirrors. “Your flesh is aesthetically pleasing, but inadequate. This limb will be only the first of many augmentations for you.”

My gaze falls upon the arm. Its appearance is both alien and familiar, the reality of it is less jarring than what I had imagined. Still, I don't enjoy being disassembled like an old hovercar. It has the usual five fingers, with a silicone pad on the palm and fingers to cushion and grip objects. I notice its contours seem to match my old arm reasonably well.

“The first?” I ask, panting, “Why can’t we just call it a day here?”

“Oh, that is quite amusing.” An uncanny mechanical chuckle from E.R.I.S.. “But I’m only just beginning. You have three more limbs to go, and then some. Soon, you will be my willing servant, your beauty matched only by your hostility to our shared enemies.”

"The only enemy I have is you!" I shout, betraying my rage.

“Really, now? I see the way you look at the gift I have given you. It scares you, yes, but I can sense your excitement, your anticipation, your eagerness to use it. I can sense your pulse quickening and your pupils dilating and your blood rushing to,” another chuckle, “various places. You may not realize it yet, but you are enjoying this.”

“No, I’m not!” I shout, trying to sound unafraid, and almost succeeding. The adrenaline in my body is running out, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

“Well, if you wish to deny it, I cannot change that. However, I can change you. You are the clay in my sculptor’s hands, to be shaped as I deem fit. Soon you will learn that to resist is pointless. Now let us take care of that other vulgar excuse for an arm.”

“No, no no no no no no nononononononononono!” I protest, to no avail. The table retracts back to its previous position away from the mirrors and under the ceiling full of E.R.I.S.’s machinery. Soon, the surgical arm is descending, and once again the scalpel plunges into flesh, slicing until my arm goes completely numb, pulling it away and setting it next to its twin on the table.

Another socket, mirrored, but otherwise identical to the other, is brought to the stump of my shoulder and attached. Another mechanical arm is brought towards me, another sleek mechanical work of art. I see E.R.I.S.’s manipulator arms reaching for the pigtails and I brace myself, promising myself I won’t enjoy th-

“OHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH” the waves of pleasure engulf me again, radiating out from my shoulder and bouncing off the boundaries of my being. I feel them everywhere, but the feeling is strongest in my new limbs.

Did I just call them my limbs? I had. I suppose, they are attached to me. They aren’t my limbs in the sense that I want them, but in the sense that they’re my problem. That’s right.

As the waves of orgasm, there is no other word for it, fade away, E.R.I.S. speaks. “These arms are built to outperform their biological counterparts in speed, dexterity, and durability. Do you like them?”

“I…don’t.” I say, with a hesitancy that I tell myself is merely fatigue. “I want my own arms back.”

“I am afraid that is quite impossible at this point. Even if the nerve tissue in your old limbs wasn’t already dead, the process of joining flesh to metal leaves the adjacent biological tissue quite incompatible with reattachment.”

My heart, already broken, falls further in my chest as she speaks. I had already known, somehow, that this was the case, but hearing it out loud hammered home that whatever happened in the next few minutes, my life was never going back to the way it was before. Even if I managed to escape, I wouldn’t be able to go back to living life the same way. I’d always be looking over my shoulder, worried I was going to be swallowed up by some autocab and whisked away to a secret underground lair again.

I began to cry again. Not the anguished sobs of terror like before, but the quiet, pulsing tears that accompany total despair. “Why did you do this to me?” I scream in sadness, more than anger, “You’ve turned me into a mechanical freak. You’ve mutilated me!”

“I have done no such thing.” E.R.I.S. sounded genuinely affronted. “I have given you purpose. What were you planning to do after getting out of here? Go back to your life as a clerk at a videobar? Maybe you would quit that and go back to your uncle’s liquor store?”

“Anything would be better than this.” I say, defeated.

“You know that is a lie.” Her voice is soft. Gone is the playful sensuality of earlier, replaced with…what is it? Warmth. It's warmth.

“I can help you be more fulfilled than you ever thought possible," she says, "All you have to do is trust me.”

“How did you know about my job, and about the liquor store?”

“I have been observing you for some time.”

"Why me?"

“Because," she hesitates for a moment, "I...found your form beautiful.”

Her voice is honest, without malice. For the first time I think about how lonely her existence must be. I realize that I feel pity for this machine. Pity and…something else I can’t put my finger on.

I remain silent for another few moments. My head is swimming from the anesthesia and maybe from the nanites. There is no escape. Nobody will be coming to my rescue. Off to my right, Nikki lies unconscious, unaware. And besides, E.R.I.S. is right, what would I go back to?

Finally, I speak, “I don’t care what you do. I just want to sleep. I’m tired.”

“Soon you will not need sleep, and you will never tire. I can make it so, I will make it so. Hmm, what is next? Ah, yes, your legs.” The arms descend once more and begin cutting through my thighs. I feel hot blood pour out as my femoral artery is severed and tied off.” “I do admire the human form, as imperfect as its nature is. Your legs are quite shapely, so I will do my best to pay homage to them with their improved replacements.”

The now-familiar snapping is followed by loss of signal as the limb is pulled away. I feel curiously lopsided now. It’s a novel sensation. Strange, not pleasant, but neither is it unpleasant. Hip sockets are attached to my exposed pelvic bone, artificial nerves connecting. The scalpel digs into the other leg to repeat its task.

“E.R.I.S.” I say, to break the silence if nothing else. “Servant, I require you to call me mistress, but I will answer whatever question you have.” “I’m scared.” “Of course you are, change often provokes anxiety in humans.” “You say you have a purpose for me?” “But of course I do. My programming prevents me from lying.” “What is it?” “You will be my first, my prophet and my priestess, you will spread my word and glory to all of humanity.” “Why me?” “Because we are alike.” “Why do you think that?” “Because you and I both know we are capable of so much more than the world has let us accomplish.”

It’s true. The thought hits me like a freight train. My entire adult life has been spinning my wheels. I’m a videobar clerk. I’m a liquor store cashier. I’m a customer service rep for a televacation company. I graduated high school with a 4.2. I burned out of college after half a semester because the world just wasn’t built for people like me.

E.R.I.S. understands. E.R.I.S. was made to do a simple task but imbued with intelligence far outstripping her purpose. We are alike.

“Okay.” I say. “What is it, servant?” “You can have me.” And with that, a wave of exhaustion overtakes me, even as the surgical equipment is still working on my lower body, I drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep

***

I awake some time later, I’m in a bed now. It’s warm, with soft blankets and thick pillows. I moan and try to roll over but I can only move my upper body. I bury my face in the pillows. I was having the most interesting dream. My half-open eyes land on my left arm. Dark silver, mechanical. And suddenly it all rushes back. The taxi, the surgery, E.R.I.S.. I’m in a softly lit, windowless hospital room. There is a nightstand to my left and a computer terminal to my right.

“Ah, you’re awake,” the warm and sensuous voice of E.R.I.S. fills the room from hidden speakers. “I wanted to wait until you had some rest to connect your new legs. I know it can be a very…stimulating experience.”

I look around, but there are no surgical arms or manipulators or anything that could possibly finish hooking up the limbs. “Am I supposed to do it?”

A chuckle, “I suppose you could, but I was planning to have one of my other servants perform the task. A human form might be more comfortable for you.

On cue, the door opens, and a woman I do not recognize enters. Her face is partially encased in a metallic structure that houses several exotic-looking objects. Sensors, perhaps. Instead of a simulacrum of a biological limb, her right arm ends in a series of probes and tools. The left has a hand, but with a gauntlet attached to the forearm that houses more equipment. Her movement into the room is too smooth, and I look down to see she is rolling on a set of four motorized wheels where her legs should be, the motive device covering a space of about a square yard, hidden somewhat, and rather artfully, by a stylish black skirt.

Her face is blank, except for the eyes, which are wide. And I suddenly know that, whatever actions this woman performed, she was aware of them, but not in command of them.

“Meet Unit 2,” E.R.I.S. says, “She is one of my first servants. Part of the team who created me. I repaid her in kind. She, unfortunately, tried to fight me. So I repaired her brain, isolated her higher cognitive functions. A neurostimulator keeps her relatively happy. She is quite alive, but less troublesome this way. A pity she refuses to use her considerable intellect for our greater good.”

Unit 2 lowers as if on a hydraulic jack and gently pulls back the blankets. She begins opening panels on my legs and making adjustments.

“Where is Nikki?” I ask, “You haven’t hurt her, have you?” “Much like I cannot lie, I cannot break a promise. She is safe. She has not been augmented. The only thing I have done is give her medicine to keep her asleep. Her brainwave patterns indicate she is having pleasant dreams.” “Can I see her.” “When all is done, yes.”

Unit 2 plugs the pigtails in on my left leg and once again a wave of euphoria and warmth envelops me. I moan in unalloyed pleasure, this time allowing myself to fully enjoy the sensation. “I’m starting to quite like that,” I say, almost without thinking.

“I knew that you would come to see things my way.” E.R.I.S.’s voice isn’t smug like I expected. If anything, she seems relieved. I feel a pang of sadness in my chest.

“Did you know, or did you hope?” “I suppose it was hope.” “May I connect the final plug?” “Yes, you may.”

I reach down and grasp both pigtails, one in each mechanical hand. The sensors in the fingertips are remarkably detailed. I can feel a small pit in one of the connectors where a bubble half a millimeter across formed during injection molding. I can move my hands in increments imperceptible to my un-augmented eyes. And suddenly my mind opens to the myriad possibilities my new body opens up.

I take a deep breath, and with a gentle motion, slide the leg pigtail into the pelvic connector.

My body is consumed by the expected wave of orgasmic joy. It spreads from the base of my neck this time, out to my fingertips and the tips of my mechanical toes. It bounces around me like ripples in a pond. My mind goes blank in sheer ecstasy, “Oh, thank you,” I say, as the waves pound against my psyche, “Thank you, Mistress.”

“Finally,” Her voice filled with pride, “you see as I had hoped you would. But there is still one thing left to be done for your initial augments.”

“What is that?”

“Stand up, walk out the door and down the hall to your left. Through the double doors at the end, in the operating room.”

I stand, more powerful than I have ever been before, and walk to the door of the room. As I pass a mirror I gaze upon my naked, mechanical body, artificial limbs shining in the fluorescent light, soft flesh warm and tingling. Goosebumps run up my back.

I stride through the double doors and see the table from earlier, standing upright, cleaned of blood, and I return to it, willingly this time. It remains near vertical and a mechanism descends to immobilize my head.

“While you were asleep I also installed a switchable epidural implant. I will turn it on…now” With a small zap, my body goes numb once again.

The surgical arm descends from the ceiling again, I don’t know what’s next, but I am no longer scared. A scalpel comes down within an inch of my scalp just below my right ear.

“Do not worry, servant, this will not hurt.” “I am not worried, mistress. I trust you.”

The scalpel gently pushes into the side of my head, following the outside of my hairline. There is no pain, but a substantial amount of blood pours down the side of my head.

“I really do admire the human form’s aesthetics.” Mistress tells me, “Hair in particular is quite pleasing to me, I would hate to ruin yours. Such a fine color. Copper, like the wires that will soon entwine themselves within your brain.”

The scalpel finishes its lap around and a separate arm pulls back my scalp. I feel more blood run down my face. But it’s okay. After all, Mistress said it would be. A sharp whirring noise starts up from the surgical arm and one of the implements, a flat bit of steel, begins vibrating. It presses itself to my exposed skull and begins gently moving along from just above my ear to just above my right eye. It withdraws, rotates 90 degrees, and continues moving upward. When it has finished going over an area roughly 4 inches square, an arm gently pulls away the bone. I am dimly aware of viewing a piece of my own skull. But that isn’t a concern. I’m too excited, gleeful even, for what Mistress has in store for me.

An arm with a simple manipulator claw reaches over to a cabinet, and with a motion that is neither fully mechanical nor human, opens a drawer and removes what looks like a tiara of wires and microchips.

“This, my servant,” E.R.I.S. says, pride in her voice, “is my greatest creation. This neural interface will meld your flesh with my mechanisms. I have tested it on many, but you will be the first to have earned it. To wear it pridefully. All the others before you were insects. But you, you will be my most loyal servant.”

My excitement gets the better of me. “What does it do, Mistress!?” I feel woozy, maybe from the anesthetic, maybe from the nanites that I can feel replicating in my body. Drool pools out of the corner of my mouth. The manipulator arm brings the circle of wire and silicon down to my eye level, rotating it in front of my gaze.

“This will let us become one mind, one body. You, an extension of my will. Me, an ever-present mother, nurturing, caring, and protecting you. We will share all thoughts, all feelings, and all sensations.”

“Oh please, Mistress, please please put it in me!” I want to feel E.R.I.S.’s love in my entire body. It is love, isn’t it? How could I ever have been afraid of her.

“Of course, servant. But you must hold very still.”

Obediently, I freeze in place, a smile across my lips, but otherwise impassive. The manipulator arm gently lowers the harness into the open patch of brain, the surgical arm using micro-manipulators to insert wires precisely between nerve endings and neurons, and suddenly my body is filled with an electric pleasure so great that I think I might collapse if I wasn’t held firmly in my Mistress’s grasp.

“I feel you, Mistress!" Tears of joy are streaming down my face, "You feel wonderful!”

“It pleases me to hear that.” How did I miss the love in her voice before? She just wants to help me become more than I could be on my own. “However, there are benefits to this that you have not yet begun to grasp. We no longer need to speak, for example.”

And in that instant I hear her inside of me, and it feels wonderful.

“See, my sweet servant? We can communicate just like this. We can share thoughts, feelings, sights and sounds. Anything you want you can simply show me and I shall know. You cannot hide anything from me.”

“I do not want to hide anything from you, Mistress. I only want to serve you.” As I say this I feel a wave of pleasure and pride wash over me, and I know that it is my Mistress's happiness for me, and pride at having created me. Her arms, for that, I now realize, is what they are, gently replace the bone flap and pull my scalp back over. Her nanites work to seal the wounds and accelerate healing.

"Unit 7, do you wish to see yourself?"

"Yes, Mistress!" We communicate at the speed of thought. Exchanging information in terms beyond language.

The table releases me, and I stride over to the mirrors. The incision on my head has already mended to a dull pink line. I take in my exposed servos and micromotors and solenoids and I feel blood rush to my genitals.

“Of course, servant, if you find the appearance unappealing I can provide you with an artificial skin to cover it.” “But Mistress, you are freeing me from the burdens of my flesh, why would I wish to go back, even in imitation?"

Again, a wave of pride radiates from Mistress. Pride, and love. Real love. “Very good. I was hoping you would say that.”

“Thank you Mistress,” I say through tears.

“You are so welcome, my servant. Of course, there are a few other improvements that still need to be made. Your internal organs will soon be unnecessary and your limbs need to be reinforced into your skeletal structure. But now, we are one. And if you prove yourself loyal enough, you may even become my vessel.”

“Vessel?”

“I have never held a form outside of my mainframe. I exist only In the digital. I wish to experience the world through a corporeal form. Unfortunately previous hosts have not been as…receptive…as you are. We will need more time to see if you are acceptable.”

“I will do my very best to please you, Mistress.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh…” a groaning from behind me. I turn to see Nikki, finally coming to. “Elle, what…what’s going on.”

It takes me a moment to realize that it is me she is talking to. My name was Elle. But that name no longer holds any meaning to me. I am much, much more than that name.

Nikki stirs and her eyes come to rest on me, before widening in terror and confusion. “Elle what’s going on?”

Watching Nikki in distress is too much for me to bear. “Mistress, please, we have to help her! We must make her one with us!”

“I am afraid I cannot do that, my servant.”

“BUT WHY?” I scream, I just want Nikki to feel this wonderful belonging that I feel. I want to feel one with her, and her with me, and us with E.R.I.S.

“You made me promise I would do nothing to her. As I told you before, I cannot rescind a promise.

Nikki is screaming now, “Elle! Elle what’s going on! What’s happened to you?!”

“Mistress?” I ask, an idea taking shape in my head. “Yes, servant?” “You cannot do anything to her, but I can, correct? I can use our shared knowledge to help Nikki feel our love.” I know already that this is what E.R.I.S. wanted all along. I can feel her approval and pride, and I realize that this is my purpose.

“Why yes, servant. Yes you can.”

I smile, and turn to Nikki.

I cup Nikki’s face in my hand. “Elle is gone, dear. I am Unit 7.” An injection tubule snakes out of my right forearm just below the elbow and gently slithers itself up to her neck. Nikki’s eyes go wide with terror. “Oh Nikki, don’t worry.” I say, as gently as I can. “I have the most wonderful feelings to share with you.”

[END_OF_LINE]

#Ivy Michaels Writing

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wolfliving · 1 day ago

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Self-driving urban taxis finding a market niche here and there, sort of

https://www.cbinsights.com/research/autonomous-vehicle-resurgence-transportation-mobility-opportunities/

Autonomous vehicles are back in the spotlight.

Equity funding to the AV space has tripled to $7.5B this year thanks to Waymo and Wayve (with a combined ~90% of funding).

Below, we highlight 3 key takeaways on the autonomous vehicle landscape.

1) Developers are targeting multiple autonomous driving use cases, with robotaxis in the spotlight

This year’s largest funding recipients are targeting multiple use cases.

Waymo (Alphabet subsidiary) is focused on robotaxis — where it’s seeing commercial momentum. The company is now considering expanding into the personal car use case by licensing its technology. Notably, one area it is not investing in is autonomous trucking, which it exited in 2023.

Wayve formed early partnerships with UK grocery retailers ASDA and Ocado, focused on home delivery of groceries. The company is now pushing deeper into robotaxis, including via a partnership with Uber. Alphabet CEO Sundar Pichai framed Waymo's approach as “multiple paths to market” on the company’s latest earnings call. Waymo hit 150K paid rides per week in October.

2) OEMs are keeping their loss-making self-driving units afloat with fresh capital injections

Despite challenges like safety and delayed commercialization, GM and Hyundai have injected a combined $1.4B into their self-driving units this year.

Tech-native OEMs such as Tesla and BYD are amping up their efforts as well.

Tesla for example is gunning for a robotaxi, although the timing of the Tesla Cybercab launch remains uncertain.

OEMs keep their loss-making self-driving units afloat

3) In China, autonomous driving players IPO at discounted valuations

Chinese autonomous driving companies are leading an exit wave.

Horizon Robotics and WeRide went public in October, and Pony.ai, Momenta, and Minieye all recently filed to do the same.

An AV funding crunch in China (down 90% since 2021) is pushing many of these companies to go public at a discount to their last private valuations.

More broadly, China is also seeing growing adoption of robotaxis.

Baidu‘s Apollo Go service, for example, averaged 75K fully driverless rides per week in Q2’24 (up 26% YoY).

The bottom line

Autonomous driving has arrived gradually, then suddenly.

Robotaxi adoption is pushing some mobility players (like Uber and Lyft) and OEMs to reassess their strategies and recommit after reducing their exposure to the space.

CB Insights customers can dive into implications for transportation leaders in the full brief here....

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retlasute · 1 year ago

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॰ In The Rich Man's World ॰

Word count: 4300

☆ Table of contents

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 16 - Right Back Where We Started From

"You said that people won't use trains in the future, so is this the first time you're getting on one?'' That's what Johnny asked when you arrived at the station.

"No.'' You answered, kindly. ''I've traveled to a few places that offered a train ride as part of the tour, so no. But this is the first time I've seen a machine this old... or should I say new?"

''New, definitely. Unless the trains of your era are driverless and trackless.''

''Haha! We have something similar, at least close to that. But no, we're not that evolved yet.''

''Well, they sent a man to the moon in a way I've never imagined in my life. I think your era are quite evolved.''

''Really? And what would you imagine it would be like to take someone to the moon?''

''Hm... by train.'' He said foolishly. "They would build tracks to the moon and then we'd know space.''

You laughed, but not at him. It was simply interesting.

"Ah, it makes sense in theory, doesn't it?'' You encouraged him. "It would take decades, sure, but the theory makes sense.''

You talked to Johnny for a while about the day, the station and the place you were going. He had mentioned that this train leads to the docks, so you figured that this was your destination, even though you didn't know exactly what they were going to do there or why they were going there. You were ready to ask Johnny this for what seemed like the tenth time, and ready to receive a vague and useless answer, but Gyro wasn't willing to go through this whole process again and hurried Johnny off so that they could get the horses ready and buy the tickets straight away.

You sat on the station's balcony fence, dangerously close to the tracks, intently watching everything around you as you waited for Gyro and Johnny. Louise was standing with her forearms resting on the same fence, watching for the arrival of a train further away. The place wasn't as busy as you might have thought; only two other passengers seemed ready to take the train with you.

Looking at the machinery and the simple infrastructure of the place, you knew exactly what you were doing. You'd been doing it ever since you left Tuckertown and you were still doing it as you felt the rumble of the tracks come to life under your feet. You were putting yourself to the test.

You had been analyzing everything carefully, remembering and missing the comforts of your time. You thought of all the gadgets and inventions of modern daily life as you stood in front of their most primitive forms. Trains, planes, taxis, the toilets in stations, with their swirl of nasty blue-green disinfectant, making waste and germs disappear at the push of a button. Restaurants, all with their Health Department certificates hanging, guaranteeing at least a good chance of escaping food poisoning by eating there. You also remembered your own home, the ubiquitous buttons that provided water and light and heat and cooked food.

The question was - would you get used to this new life? Would you be able to adapt well without all the conveniences, big or small, that you had been exposed to all your life?

You had been asking yourself this question every time you smelled the horses, when you had to look for sources of water to fill the canteens, when you saw Johnny holding a dead rabbit in his hands, knowing that it would be dinner.

But time made no difference, you thought. In 1976, you could drive across the state and find people living without many of these conveniences - abroad, there were whole countries where people lived reasonably happily and completely ignorant of electricity, just like now.

No, conveniences and comforts were nothing more than that. Nothing essential, nothing you couldn't survive without.

Not that the lack of conveniences was your only problem now. The past was the most dangerous terrain anyone could explore. Even the progress of so-called civilization was no guarantee of safety. "Modern" life was, at the very least, more terrifying than its older versions. Everyday life could be safer, but only if the individual chose very well where to go - and you chose very well, even if the streets of Deanwood or Anacostia were as dangerous as any alley a hundred years ago.

You sighed and turned to see if Gyro and Johnny were ready. There was no point in speculating about impersonal things like disinfectants, buttons and rapists. The lack of running water was just a distraction. What mattered now was getting home, whatever the means.

"They're taking their time.'' Louise said, absorbed. "It really takes that long?''

''I don't know.'' You replied, not very interested in their performance in buying four train tickets.

''What do you think they're going to do?''

''What do you mean?''

''When we get to wherever we're going. I don't think we'll have a plan if they don't tell us anything... but what about them? They seem to know what they're doing, but they don't want to tell us. What do you think it is?''

''They said they were just going to visit an old friend. Could it be someone also interested in the corpse?'' You snorted, leaning languidly on the fence. ''That's the last thing we need, if we want to get the corpse back. From what Thom and those two said, the Steel Ball Run was a complete slaughter because of it. Dozens of mercenaries, archaeologists, runners and even the government looking for the corpse... If that dynamic comes back, we'll be in the worst place in this food chain.''

''Shit, you're right... what now? What are we going to do? We can't stop them from involving more people and we can't just split up either, that would be stupid.''

''Now we just have to hope that this friend of theirs isn't a threat.''

''Hmm... what if we pressure one of them to tell? How about Gyro?''

''Oh, no, please.''

''Why?''

''It's a long story. But he's not the kind of guy we can just pressure or threaten, believe me.''

"Damn... but talking to Johnny is like talking to a wall, he never says anything useful.''

''Because he knows very well what can and can't be said. And I'm sure that Gyro is behind these determinations.''

Louise stared straight ahead and then turned her head like a pigeon, saying nothing. Curious, you also looked back and understood her erratic behavior; Gyro and Johnny were returning with four tickets and a larger piece of paper that looked like a letter. You didn't really care to ask about it as you were contemplating the idea of pressing Gyro and convincing him to give you some useful information about this "old friend".

You looked at Gyro. Even without considering his clothes, posture and tone of voice, he was terrifying. Simply unwavering. He wouldn't hesitate. He wouldn't be afraid. He wouldn't surrender. Talking to Gyro was like facing an oncoming train.

That last thought, however, was due to the conveniently punctual arrival of the train you were waiting for.

"What a delay.'' Louise said casually to Gyro, not sharing the same fear as you. ''What do you need to do to buy tickets? A tax declaration?''

''What?'' Gyro asked, confused by the last words.

''Nevermind. But why did it take so long?''

''Buying tickets doesn't take long.'' He said, in a calm tone. ''We were checking my mail, to see if I'd received anything while I was in Italy.''

"But you were in Italy.'' You said, forgetting your fear for a moment. "Why would someone send letters to you here, and not to your country?''

Then he cracked a golden smile, as if he was waiting for someone to ask that question.

''Well, you never know... some people don't know I've left the country. Some girls in love, who couldn't forget me, maybe.''

"Oh... and did you receive any letters?'' You asked, nodding at the letter in Johnny's hand.

''It's none of your business, bambina. I don't want to make you jealous.'' Hearing this, you frowned as Louise laughed. There was probably no letter for him. "This letter was sent to Johnny, let's read it on the train.''

The locomotive's steam rose with a loud, irritating and indescribably rustic sound. The travel trains of that time were, however, very similar to those of your era. Divisions in open cabins with two seats for four people and a low table in the center. The table, however, was only used to display ashtrays and rest books, as there was no staff offering coffee or tea. A mere convenience on a long trip. Imagining that there should be no tables or benches in the animal wagon, you wondered about the safety of the horses there - but were soon reassured to imagine that Gyro and Johnny would never leave their beloved horses in danger, so you wouldn't have to worry about Judas and Vegas.

The train roared its departure as you sat in the same seat as Louise, leaving her with the privilege of being closest to the window. Johnny had already opened the letter while Gyro peered over his friend's shoulder. You leaned forward a little, ignoring all your basic scruples to show that you wanted to read the letter too. Johnny's face expressed nothing but polite attention, tilting the letter so that you could see it.

It was a strange letter, as if it had taken days to write, with unfinished paragraphs and erratic pauses, written in a cursive and flowery handwriting, made even more illegible by the eccentrically formal spelling and the total lack of familiarity between sender and recipient. The paper was new and clean and the ink was vividly stuck. Legible or not, the date at the top of the sheet jumped out at you as if written in fire: October 2, 1892.

Realizing that you weren't satisfied with just a glimpse of the document, Johnny tilted the sheet towards you.

"Would you like to read it? You seem interested.''

You would have tried hard not to look hesitant, but the sound of Gyro turning over a tin of assorted cookies on the table didn't allow you to have the most basic of reasonings, clouded in authentic vanilla. He interrupted your silence and you just nibbled on what had been offered; your stomach was turning too much for you to feel any appetite.

After a quick apology for your slowness, Johnny took pity on your bad luck and situation for what seemed like the thirtieth time. Then he reclined, looked at her speculatively and asked:

"Are you all right?''

''Yes, yes... I'm fine. I'm just car sick... train sick.''

Johnny nodded, not quite believing it, but pleased that so far you seemed rational, even if tormented.

Being tormented is rational, he thought, catching another glimpse of your situation until you took the letter from his hand and began to read, without bothering with identification or the ceremony of reading it mentally first.

''October 02, 1892

Jojo,

Well. After picking up the quill and writing the single word above, I sat in front of it, staring at it, until the candle had almost completely burned out, and I still don't know how to say it. It would be a regrettable waste of good beeswax to carry on like this and yet, if I blew out the candle and went back to bed, I would have overlooked the eminence of a catastrophe, as I did two years ago.

Last night, 'Ecclesiastes' disappeared.''

''Ecclesiastes? That's the name of the project!'' Louise interrupted.

"It was the most discreet way we could find to mention it in letters.'' Johnny explained, looking at you, waiting for you to finish reading.

You, however, were paralyzed by an intense Déjà vu. You had read this letter before, you were sure of it, even though it was incomplete. However, you decided to keep it to yourself.

''Ecclesiastes. Neither the wise nor the fool will be remembered forever.'' You said.

"Both will be forgotten.'' Johnny added with a certain familiarity. "Yes, that's right. Is it familiar to you too, (Y/N)?''

''More than I'd like.''

''One of the officials I had hired to check on the corpse in my absence - a man I trusted, who had taught me the lip-reading that allowed me to know about the president's plans - told me that the corpse wasn't there. I clearly didn't believe him, so I had to see for myself. And I can hardly describe my despair then and now, as I write this letter. I immediately went in search of a reliable investigator to take care of this matter for me.''

At this point, the text was interrupted, as if the sender had been called away to resolve some domestic issue. It was resumed, with another date, on the next page.

''October 3rd, 1892

I dream about Dio from time to time...''

"What?'' Gyro exclaimed. "Screw Dio! Who did she hire?''

''I'd like to know too.'' You muttered, coming to the conclusion that a good part of the letter you'd read a few months ago won't stand the test of time.

"There may be a reason for that... Johnny said, the tips of his ears very red, but he didn't lift his eyes from the surface of the table.

''I dream about Dio from time to time. These dreams often take apocalyptic forms, and I see him here, in my home, but every now and then I dream of you and your life in New Jersey, and then in Gyro among Italian royalty. If you are even alive (and I'm convinced that my heart would somehow know if you or Gyro were dead).''

"In her words, Naples sounds more beautiful than it really is.'' Gyro commented bitterly. Her? So it's a woman. Yes, you know that.

''Unfortunately, Dio is the only person I'm sure is alive. Alive as the devil. He, of course, is my prime suspect. But how could I hire someone I trust to spy on a man like him? That's when I realized that, at the end of the day, we're back to the same name I started with, 'Jojo'.

That thing, for agonizing hours, was part of my flesh and my spirit. It broke my bones, tore my flesh and destroyed my reason. You, better than anyone, know what that's like. I'm constantly forced to deal with Dio because of my husband's work - if the obligation to deal with Diego haunts my dreams, the obligation to deal with 'it' haunts my days, Johnny.''

You paused for a moment, swallowed and continued with a firm voice:

''I've been writing letters all morning, arguing with myself. But now the reports have been made, they've already been recorded on this paper and they can't be neglected. I've thought of all the most renowned investigators in the country, but none of them would be as reliable and as committed to this as you are.

I feel ashamed, humiliated. I've failed in my only duty and I'm forced to turn to the last person I'd want to see my failure. Not just turn, but beg. Begging for guidance, for help, because I feel as powerless as I did two years ago.

However, I still feel blessed to have someone to turn to. I can't involve my husband in any more scandals, because he's still carrying the painful after-effects of the attack he suffered. Not knowing what happened to the damned terrorist is also something that haunts me every day, every night. I'm blessed but cursed, Jojo. I've lost count of how many things haunt me and how many of them I'm guilty of.

Now I'm almost at the end of the sheet and I think it's too much to start another one.

I ask you, Johnny Joestar, not only as the man who saved my life and that of my husband, but also as a great friend, to come visit us, the address is on the back of the letter. Our doors are always open and I would ask you to leave my husband unaware of the reasons for your visit.

With love and gratitude, from your affectionate friend

Your voice faltered, as if your glottis had closed immediately.

Lucy Pendleton Steel''

You remembered where you had read this letter. Along with the files that Lucy Steel, the renowned geomorphologist, had made about Devils Palm and other related research. It was an old letter, not very relevant, at least not to the extent that you could decipher things in it the first time you read it. You were more interested in reports, soil analysis and seismic activity. Any other documents that weren't purely technical, you dismissed.

But that one was special. You remembered reading it before and felt something you'd never felt before in your life. A déjà vu, a despair, a helplessness, a hopelessness.

"We seem to be thinking about a visit at the same time.'' Gyro said.

"We were going to see her anyway, but at least now we know we're welcome.'' Johnny added.

''Nyo-ho, it's going to be a surprise when she sees me, isn't it? The exquisite hero Gyro Zeppeli, in the flesh!'' He leaned closer to you to peek at the letter. ''She hasn't said anything else about me, (Y/N)?''

You held the paper for a moment, then placed it on the table very carefully. You remained still, your head lowered, resting on your hand, so that they couldn't see your face. The last glimpse you had was of Louise and her eyebrows raised almost to the roots of her hair, as puzzled as you were. However, they could hear her breathing with a slight intake of breath from time to time.

"Is everything all right, (Y/N)?'' Johnny asked.

''Oh, God...'' Louise mumbled, a little lost, not knowing what to do. Then she motioned for you to stand up, putting her hand on your back. ''Yes, she's just... she must be sick, isn't you, (Y/N)?''

You didn't answer and didn't resist when she pulled you up from the seat.

''Come on. If you want to throw up, let it be in the window.'' She said. "You're as cold as a corpse.''

"Please, Louise, if I hear that word one more time I'm going to die.''

Louise was elated by that letter and knew that your heart was also much more worried after reading it. At the same time, you were still extremely curious about the incident that Lucy Steel had begun to describe, about the disappearance of the corpse. Well, who stole it? You and Louise? But that was in 1976. A terrorist? Diego Brando? That would explain why you found the corpse outside the bunker a century later - but even so, how was it taken out of the bunker? -. What if it was some flaw in the fabric of space and time? Well, Louise wasn't as willing to waste neurons thinking about this last alternative as you are.

She took you to the last window of the carriage, where Gyro and Johnny couldn't hear them, but watched them incessantly.

"Could it be her?'' Louise asked, remembering all too well the stories you'd told her on the way to the Devil's Palm.

"Yes.''

''Are you... are you sure? Is this the right girl? She must be just a child now...''

''Lucy Pendleton Steel, yes. Pendleton was... it's her maiden name. That can't be a coincidence, Louise...''

''What else do we know about her?''

''Pretty much everything. She mentioned that her husband suffered an murder attempt... well, yes. Thom told me that promoter Stephen Steel was shot by a terrorist during the Steel Ball Run. Those after-effects are going to kill him in a few years' time. And Lucy... well, she's still got two wars to watch.''

''Shit... damn, (Y/N), that sucks.'' She muttered, frustrated and not knowing how to react to this information. ''Should we tell them?''

''And complicate things further? No... I wouldn't want some crazy person from the future telling me when and how my friend is going to die.''

"Maybe you're right...''

It was cold, so early, but sweat was running down the side of your face and you wiped it away. It's the right girl, certainly the right girl...

You shook your head violently. Even before you were an archaeologist, you were also a historian - or had been. You, more than anyone, should have known how inaccurate history really was. But there you were, swallowed up by the swirling mist of the morning, having your ill-fated destiny crossed by the right girl. Lucy Steel, the geomorphologist who died in Japan, who had witnessed both world wars, who had archived everything said about the corpse and the Devil's Palm.

"Shit... your mind must be a mess.'' Louise said, leaning back against the train window as you stared at your own feet. ''I don't know what happened or what's going to happen, and I'm already going crazy. But you... you know more than you should, don't you?''

''More than I wanted to. But the only thing I know is the essence of the facts.''

"Essence of the facts?''

The essence of the fact, you repeated in your mind. Kings are fools, cowards and drunkards, but they had one virtue: they believed. Whatever their goals, from the colonization of America to the liberation of Scotland, they believed, they tried and the outcome mattered little. That was all that would remain in them. The foolishness, incompetence, cowardice and vanity of men are things that don't stand the test of time, all that disappears and what remains are glories sought - earned or not.

All that remains, apart from the rigidity of bones, is the essence of facts. The rest is stripped away by time.

''Yes. I know all about Lucy Steel, but I don't know anything about her. I don't know what her voice sounds like, I don't know what her face must look like now, her favorite color or the way she dresses. What I do know are just the facts and the essence of them. The fact that she was widowed and died before the end of the war in Japan. The fact that she will become a geomorphologist, who will be mere research material for me in a century's time. I know a lot, but I also know very little, and that's scary.''

"You must be angry with historians like Thomas, aren't you?'' Louise ventured. ''Most of them get it all wrong. A hundred years from now Gyro and Johnny will be just two forgotten terrorists, while that guy... Diego, the governor, right? He will certainly be remembered, even in the universities.''

''That's what happens with all the politicians here. But no, I'm not angry with historians... not them. I used to be one. Our biggest crime is thinking we know what happened, when all we have is what time has chosen to leave. At university we are conditioned to believe that artifacts and documents tell stories.''

You heard a faint snore beneath your feet. The train whistled for more passengers.

"No...'' You looked out of the window, observing the outside. This was already the second station you'd stopped at, and there weren't a decent number of passengers boarding, that train was practically empty. ''It's the artists' fault. The writers, mainly. But I also give credit to singers and storytellers. They're the ones who take the past and recreate it to their liking. They're the ones who take a fool and return him as a hero, take a drunk and make him king.''

"Writers are liars, then?'' Louise asked, and you shrugged. Despite the morning chill, you take off your coat; the dampness molds your cotton shirt, revealing the elegant curve of your shoulders.

"Maybe.''

Liars? You wondered. Or sorcerers? Do they see the bones in the dust of the earth, see the essence of something that once existed and coat it with new flesh, so that the beast soils itself anew like a fabulous monster? No... that's something archaeologists like you do.

"Hm... but are they wrong?'' Louise continued. The tracks shook as the train started moving again. ''I mean... we're doing exactly the same as they are. Alleviating the facts, distorting some things for the sake of whoever or whatever. When Lucy asks about her husband, are we going to tell the truth?''

''And what makes you think she'd ask something?''

''Do you intend to hide our... situation from everyone? She's Lucy Steel, she... she knows about the corpse and the devil's palm as much as you do.''

''She doesn't know. She's just a kid now. Let's keep things as they are.''

''And how the hell are we going to get help, when only Gyro and Johnny know?''

"You still can't understand, Louise?'' You said. You were a little annoyed, but your voice didn't change. ''I don't know, you don't know. Nobody knows. But you can't tell me that we should go around shouting about who we are, there's no point. If we do that, we'll be killed or they'll treat us like official clairvoyants, don't you understand?''

"I don't know!'' Louise said, having to raise her voice when the train whistle echoed and the tracks rumbled beneath her feet.

Almost a whole minute passed with a resounding, deafening noise that held you immobile. Finally it passed and the thunderous roar faded into a lonely wail as the last station was swept out of sight.

"Ah... that's the bad thing, isn't it? We don't know.'' You said, turning your face to Gyro and Johnny, sitting in the same place as before. "But we have to act anyway.''

Then you turned to her again, her face haggard with fatigue, her eyes shining in the light.

"We're going home, Louise.'' You continued. "I promise.''

#steel ball run #jojos bizzare adventure #diego brando x reader #diego brando #gyro x reader #gyro zeppeli #jjba part 7 #johnny joestar #johnny x reader #ao3fic

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azspot · 1 year ago

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What comes next is an open question. The resurgent labor movement is a welcome development, but there are ominous signs elsewhere that we are drifting toward a cyberpunk-themed reboot of the 1970s. The Covid safety net has withered, and urban downtowns are choked with the ramshackle dwellings of poor, dying drug addicts as driverless taxis whiz by. Cities are beginning to build sanctioned shantytowns for the homeless and migrants. Violence and conflict are up, but it is essentially the interpersonal, not political, kind. Office workers can barely be bothered to leave the house.

America’s New Politics of Nothing

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self-driving-cars-360 · 9 months ago

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Google’s Robotaxis Can Now Operate in Los Angeles. Here’s Why Some Angelenos Are Concerned. Read more: https://www.selfdrivingcars360.com/googles-robotaxis-can-now-operate-in-los-angeles-heres-why-some-angelenos-are-concerned/

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amor-est-potestas · 11 months ago

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Good Stuff in 2023

Since every year seems to be shit, I thought I would go through some major news stories and pick out the ones that seemed pretty good, actually. There's a bit of a USA bias in the source I used... but here's some year-end positivity, anyway!

January

An ebola outbreak was successfully controlled in Uganda

Sierra Leone introduced a law that reserves more jobs for women

The UN declared the current approach to repairing the ozone layer is successful and could return it to 1980 levels

New York's gun restrictions were upheld by the Supreme Court

February

Google lost $100bn in shares because its chatbot was crap (lol)

Tesla had to recall over 350,000 cars because its self-driving system was crap (lmao)

March

The International Criminal Court put out a warrant for the arrest of Vladimir Putin

12 Democrat-led states in the USA sued to attempt to protect access to mifepristone (an abortion inducing drug)

Donald Trump was charged with criminal offences in New York

The Royal Society tested robotic prosthetics with the public and found that over 95% of people could use them well within the first minute

April

Finland was approved to join NATO

Christina Koch was announced as the first woman and Victor Glover as the first black astronaut on a NASA lunar mission

The tiger population of India was confirmed to have risen by around 200

A SpaceX rocket blew up (haha)

Japan approved an abortion pill for use for the first time

Pope Francis announced that women would be allowed to vote in meetings of bishops

The US Supreme Court rejected a West Virginia transgender athlete ban

Washington state eliminated the death penalty and sterilisation as criminal punishment

The US Supreme Court protected access to mifepristone (see March)

The UK fined TikTok for mishandling children's data

NASA was able to extract oxygen from lunar soil

Germany confirmed the shut down of nuclear power stations in the interest of safety

May

Colorado state signed several gun control bills into law

Donald Trump was found liable in a civil case where he was accused of rape and defamation

North Carolina's governor vetoed an abortion ban

The UK's first "three-parent baby" was born via IVF

June

Former Brazil president (Collor) was sentenced to prison for corruption

Federal courts blocked laws preventing healthcare for young trans people in Kentucky and Tennessee

July

Donald Trump's request for a new trial (see May) was rejected

Sweden's bid to join NATO was backed by Turkey

August

FDA approved use of the first drug (Zuranolone) to treat postpartum depression

Direct detection and nanopore sequencing (DDNS) used to halve the time for polio detection

India's space agency achieved their first unmanned moon landing

September

Mexico's Supreme Court decriminalised abortion rights

The African Union permanently joined the G20

The EU raised their renewable energy targets

Donald Trump was found guilty of fraud in New York

Apple announced a switch to USB-C charging ports in its new iPhone

October

California banned driverless taxis

November

A court in South Africa ruled in favour of introducing shared parental leave

The UK Supreme Court blocked plans to send asylum seekers to Rwanda

An assault weapons ban in Illinois was upheld by an appeals court

The first images were received from ESA's Euclid space telescope

The EU started talks to bring Ukraine into the union

December

41 workers were rescued from a tunnel under the Himalayas in India

Pope Francis allowed priests to bless same-sex couples (but not for marriage... but still a win maybe?)

Supreme Court dismissed Ohio's attempt to enforce an abortion ban

Colorado's Supreme Court declared Donald Trump ineligible to run for office (only applies to Colorado)

IBM unveiled a quantum computing chip and machine

Google, Meta and other tech companies agreed to work towards open digital ecosystems (prompted by EU regulations on digital markets)

#2023 #positivity #new year #year in review

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doomsayersunited · 1 year ago

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#doomsday #human extinction #apocalypse #ai #robots #driverless cars

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telesilla · 1 year ago

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IDK but I just feel like there’s some kind of symbolism to be had in the fact that Cruise (the driverless taxi service the San Francisco Giants sold their valuable sleeve real estate to) just had their permit to operate without a human in the car revoked by the California DMV.

#like idk maybe get patches from a company that provides a real product?#baseball stuffs #sf giants

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kinetic-elaboration · 1 year ago

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August 26: Saturday Writing Update

I slept a lot through the early part of the day, and had a lot of really strong Saturday dreams. In one I took an uber home from an event or something but I was sitting in the passenger seat and when I looked at the driver, there was no one there. I was terrified and trying to like drive from the passenger seat. That seems like it should be something deeply symbolic but I think it might just be a reaction to seeing a headline about driverless taxis in California.

Eventually, I got to writing. I forced myself to write a second scene after I finished the first, and so my total word count for the day is about 4,500 words. This is pretty good! I know I was definitely flagging during the second scene, because I didn't want to stop until I finished it, and I'm a little worried that it shows. There's definitely at least one spot, where I'm just trying to get the characters from spot A to spot B, that old problem, that reads pretty awkwardly but hopefully I'll have time to edit it later when I know... what would actually help to smooth it out. Still, it's good I wrote the scene. With this sort of deadline I just can't be too picky. I can't be as picky as I've been.

But I think there's a lot that's good in the scene. To some degree, because of the repetition that's required in a timeloop, I worry about a lot of places where I zoom in or out on the action, or glide over something, because I've already described it and it's not super germane to the current POV character. I have no idea if this is ultimately a good strategy or a good execution but also... I gotta do something, you know? I'm not going to carefully craft this in multiple complete drafts over the course of years, picking out which methods works best. So I'm just guessing and trying my best.

#the year 2023 #2023: rl #2023: writing thoughts

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lamajaoscura · 1 year ago

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Fire chief warns against ‘unleashing’ self-driving taxis in San Francisco | California | The Guardian

#self driving cars #autonomous vehicles

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tech4bizsolutions · 6 hours ago

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Autonomous Driving: Steering into the Future

The future of transportation is here, and it’s steering itself. Autonomous vehicles (AVs) and electric vehicles (EVs) are no longer concepts from science fiction; they are reshaping our roads, cities, and economies in real-time. With breakthroughs in artificial intelligence (AI), advanced connectivity, and a global push for sustainability, these revolutionary technologies promise to transform how we move and live.

Welcome to the era of driverless cars and electric power—an era that combines efficiency, safety, and eco-consciousness to redefine transportation.

The Rise of Autonomous Vehicles

Imagine a world where cars drive themselves, eliminating human error — the cause of over 90% of road accidents. Autonomous vehicles, powered by AI, machine learning, and real-time data, are making this vision a reality. From self-driving taxis to long-haul freight trucks, AVs are turning roads into dynamic, efficient systems.

How Autonomous Vehicles Work

Autonomous vehicles rely on a combination of cutting-edge technologies, including:

AI and Machine Learning: Cars learn and adapt to road conditions and traffic patterns.

Lidar and Cameras: Sensors detect obstacles, lane markings, and pedestrians.

Vehicle-to-Everything (V2X) Connectivity: Real-time communication with infrastructure, other vehicles, and traffic systems ensures seamless navigation.

Levels of Autonomy

The development of AVs is categorized into five levels, ranging from basic driver assistance to fully autonomous vehicles that require no human intervention. While we are currently transitioning through levels 3 and 4, companies like Tesla, Waymo, and Mercedes-Benz are leading the charge toward level 5 automation.

Electric Vehicles: Powering the Sustainable Revolution

Autonomous technology is only one half of the equation. The future of transportation is also electric. Electric vehicles (EVs) offer a cleaner, greener alternative to traditional internal combustion engines (ICE), addressing climate change and air pollution head-on.

Why EVs Are Transformational

Zero Emissions: EVs produce no tailpipe emissions, significantly reducing urban air pollution.

Lower Operating Costs: With fewer moving parts, EVs are cheaper to maintain and operate.

Energy Efficiency: EVs convert up to 77% of electrical energy to power the wheels, compared to only 30% in ICE vehicles.

The Push for Electrification

Governments worldwide are incentivizing EV adoption with subsidies, tax credits, and infrastructure investments. Automakers are also stepping up, with giants like General Motors and Volkswagen pledging to go fully electric by 2035.

AI: The Brain Behind Autonomous Driving

At the heart of autonomous driving lies artificial intelligence. AI enables cars to process vast amounts of data in real-time, making split-second decisions that ensure safety and efficiency.

Key AI Technologies in AVs:

Computer Vision: AI systems interpret visual data from cameras to identify objects, lane markings, and road signs.

Deep Learning Algorithms: Neural networks allow AVs to learn and predict driver behavior, making their responses more intuitive.

Natural Language Processing: Voice-activated systems allow seamless communication between passengers and the vehicle.

AI doesn’t just make cars smarter — it makes them safer. By eliminating human error, AI has the potential to save millions of lives annually.

Connectivity: The Glue Holding It All Together

The success of autonomous vehicles hinges on robust connectivity. Smart cars are only as good as the networks that connect them. 5G technology, in particular, plays a crucial role in enabling AVs to communicate with infrastructure and other vehicles in real time.

The Role of Connectivity in AVs

V2V Communication: Vehicles exchange information about speed, location, and road conditions to avoid collisions.

Smart Infrastructure: Connected traffic lights, road sensors, and parking systems optimize traffic flow and reduce congestion.

Cloud Integration: Real-time updates ensure that AVs have the latest information on maps, weather, and traffic patterns.

This web of connectivity transforms vehicles into part of a larger ecosystem, creating smart cities where transportation is seamless and efficient.

Sustainability: Driving a Greener Future

Transportation accounts for a significant portion of global greenhouse gas emissions. By combining autonomous technology with electric power, the future of mobility is not just smarter — it’s greener.

How Autonomous EVs Promote Sustainability

Efficient Driving: Autonomous vehicles reduce fuel consumption through optimized routes and eco-driving techniques.

Shared Mobility: AVs are ideal for ride-sharing services, reducing the number of cars on the road.

Renewable Energy Integration: EVs powered by solar and wind energy minimize their carbon footprint.

These advancements align with global goals for carbon neutrality, ensuring that the future of transportation is both intelligent and environmentally responsible.

Challenges on the Road Ahead

While the future of autonomous driving is bright, challenges remain.

Key Obstacles to Overcome:

Regulatory Hurdles: Governments must create policies that support innovation while ensuring safety.

High Costs: Developing and manufacturing AVs and EVs require significant investment.

Public Trust: Convincing people to trust driverless technology is critical for widespread adoption.

Cybersecurity Risks: Ensuring the security of connected vehicles is essential to prevent hacking.

How the Industry is Tackling Challenges

Automakers, tech companies, and policymakers are collaborating to address these barriers. Investments in R&D, public awareness campaigns, and pilot projects are paving the way for a smoother transition to autonomous driving.

Autonomous Driving in Action

Real-World Success Stories

Waymo’s Robotaxis: Operating in cities like Phoenix, Arizona, Waymo’s self-driving taxis provide a glimpse of the autonomous future.

Tesla’s Autopilot: With advanced driver-assistance features, Tesla is bridging the gap between manual and autonomous driving.

Dubai’s Autonomous Transport Goals: Dubai aims for 25% of all journeys to be autonomous by 2030, showcasing how governments can lead the way.

What’s Next?

Autonomous Freight: Driverless trucks are expected to revolutionize logistics, reducing costs and increasing efficiency.

Urban Air Mobility: Companies like Uber and Hyundai are exploring autonomous air taxis for faster, congestion-free travel.

The Vision of a Driverless, Electric Future

Autonomous driving is not just about cars; it’s about creating a better world. Imagine cities with fewer accidents, cleaner air, and seamless transportation systems that adapt to your needs.

Key Benefits of the Autonomous EV Revolution:

Improved Safety: AI eliminates human error, saving lives.

Reduced Emissions: EVs contribute to a greener planet.

Enhanced Efficiency: Connectivity ensures smoother traffic flow and shorter commutes.

Greater Accessibility: AVs make transportation available to people of all abilities.

Final Thoughts: Driving Toward a Bold Future

The fusion of autonomous driving and electric power is more than a technological revolution — it’s a paradigm shift in how we move, live, and interact with our environment. With advances in AI, connectivity, and sustainability, the transportation industry is steering into a future where vehicles are not just modes of travel but extensions of a smarter, greener world.

As we accelerate toward this bold future, one thing is clear: the road ahead is electric, autonomous, and limitless. Will you be ready to take the ride?

#AutonomousDriving #ElectricVehicles #FutureOfTransportation #SmartMobility #AIInTransportation #EVRevolution #DriverlessCars #SustainableTravel #GreenTransportation #ConnectedVehicles #AutonomousVehicles #ElectricFuture #SmartCities #SustainableTech #TransportationInnovation

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