Read Online King Ruin: A Thriller (Ruins Sonata Book 2) by Michael John Grist - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael John Grist
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sandwich," Ray says. "That's all I need to know, isn't it?"
So considers explaining why that statement is not purely accurate, since they are not in in, but resonantly in, yet a look from Doe stills her.
"It's not important that he understands," says Doe. "Tell us what it means for us."
So nods, pulls up the original simulation. "Two things. One, everything is rotting. That means a continual suck, as the roots linking the sandwiched sphere to the underlying aether snap clear. Those snaps will be vastly destructive in this interim-space we're occupying now. They'll lash back like elasteel lines under high tension, and the landscape will buck and buckle."
"That's one," says Doe.
"Second, the mud we're on is shifting, like tectonic plates. There's residual heat within, from the breakdown process, and it's got to get distributed. That will cause bubbles, which will blow apart huge sections of what we see now and hoover them in."
"And that's it?"
"That's it for now. But remember, all this is happening on top of an already rickety, dense, resonantly disharmonious flattened superstructure, every part of which is fluid, chaotic, and constantly reducing down. It's like we're in a stew on a slow boil, with great spoons whacking down on us, and the bottom of the pan shifting position constantly."
Ray rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Stew," he says.
Doe points off toward the White Tower. "But that is the Solid Core, isn't it?"
"Certainly. Or at least, it's highly likely. But what everything else we're seeing is, I don't know. I also have no idea what caused the tsunami, or the collapse, only that it is ongoing."
La stands up beside them and adds her voice to the discussion. "I think we might have an answer to that."
Ti stands as well, holding out a silver spectroscope platter, upon which she's laid out the dissected husk of one of the off-white maggots. It turns So's stomach, the color of cream gone sour.
Ti flashes a close-up into their HUDs. The interior of the whitish thing seems to be made of rings, like a tree, all the way to the center, with no visible organs or sensory apparatus.
"It's made of data," La says. "Accreted data, seeking logic, and it's growing."
"What do you mean, made of data?" Ray asks.
"I mean made of data, as in facts and numbers and figures. Every ring of growth is an extra layer of digested information packed on like a skin. And it's dense. We looked into its genetic make-up with some sample cells shaved off- they're still alive and growing too, by the way- and it seems to be some kind of language information. I don't recognize it, but the patterns are linguistic."
Doe considers. "This thing is made of language."
"Its raw code is, yes. It may even be some kind of offshoot of the Lag. It's rooting around to find data to dig into, but since there's no good Core here and everything is already pretty much mulched, it's getting frantic. That's why it bit Ti, looking for a place to bite in. And it's not only language code. We scraped a dozen other samples, and found patterns analogous to mathematics equations, historical records of some kind, experiential encodings, and what was the other one, Ti?"
"Recipes," says Ti.
Ray barks a laugh.
"It's not funny," says Ti. "If it had bit me any deeper, it would have filled me up with recipes like a poison. It's saprophytic, but it doesn't care if the flesh it digs into is living or dead. It would turn me into a nice repository of cooking knowledge, but I'd be dead."
Ray coughs. "Sorry."
"It's fine," says La. So notices that she's batting her eyes a little. Does she like Ray too?
"And you said they're growing," Doe says.
"They are," La says. "Even this one, it isn't dead, just because we cut it open. It's under a field right now, but if I-" she clicks a button on the edge of the platter, and the little discolored speck starts to wriggle again.
"Ugh, gross," says Ray.
"Quite," says Ti, clicking the field back in place. "Now imagine one of these ten times
So considers explaining why that statement is not purely accurate, since they are not in in, but resonantly in, yet a look from Doe stills her.
"It's not important that he understands," says Doe. "Tell us what it means for us."
So nods, pulls up the original simulation. "Two things. One, everything is rotting. That means a continual suck, as the roots linking the sandwiched sphere to the underlying aether snap clear. Those snaps will be vastly destructive in this interim-space we're occupying now. They'll lash back like elasteel lines under high tension, and the landscape will buck and buckle."
"That's one," says Doe.
"Second, the mud we're on is shifting, like tectonic plates. There's residual heat within, from the breakdown process, and it's got to get distributed. That will cause bubbles, which will blow apart huge sections of what we see now and hoover them in."
"And that's it?"
"That's it for now. But remember, all this is happening on top of an already rickety, dense, resonantly disharmonious flattened superstructure, every part of which is fluid, chaotic, and constantly reducing down. It's like we're in a stew on a slow boil, with great spoons whacking down on us, and the bottom of the pan shifting position constantly."
Ray rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Stew," he says.
Doe points off toward the White Tower. "But that is the Solid Core, isn't it?"
"Certainly. Or at least, it's highly likely. But what everything else we're seeing is, I don't know. I also have no idea what caused the tsunami, or the collapse, only that it is ongoing."
La stands up beside them and adds her voice to the discussion. "I think we might have an answer to that."
Ti stands as well, holding out a silver spectroscope platter, upon which she's laid out the dissected husk of one of the off-white maggots. It turns So's stomach, the color of cream gone sour.
Ti flashes a close-up into their HUDs. The interior of the whitish thing seems to be made of rings, like a tree, all the way to the center, with no visible organs or sensory apparatus.
"It's made of data," La says. "Accreted data, seeking logic, and it's growing."
"What do you mean, made of data?" Ray asks.
"I mean made of data, as in facts and numbers and figures. Every ring of growth is an extra layer of digested information packed on like a skin. And it's dense. We looked into its genetic make-up with some sample cells shaved off- they're still alive and growing too, by the way- and it seems to be some kind of language information. I don't recognize it, but the patterns are linguistic."
Doe considers. "This thing is made of language."
"Its raw code is, yes. It may even be some kind of offshoot of the Lag. It's rooting around to find data to dig into, but since there's no good Core here and everything is already pretty much mulched, it's getting frantic. That's why it bit Ti, looking for a place to bite in. And it's not only language code. We scraped a dozen other samples, and found patterns analogous to mathematics equations, historical records of some kind, experiential encodings, and what was the other one, Ti?"
"Recipes," says Ti.
Ray barks a laugh.
"It's not funny," says Ti. "If it had bit me any deeper, it would have filled me up with recipes like a poison. It's saprophytic, but it doesn't care if the flesh it digs into is living or dead. It would turn me into a nice repository of cooking knowledge, but I'd be dead."
Ray coughs. "Sorry."
"It's fine," says La. So notices that she's batting her eyes a little. Does she like Ray too?
"And you said they're growing," Doe says.
"They are," La says. "Even this one, it isn't dead, just because we cut it open. It's under a field right now, but if I-" she clicks a button on the edge of the platter, and the little discolored speck starts to wriggle again.
"Ugh, gross," says Ray.
"Quite," says Ti, clicking the field back in place. "Now imagine one of these ten times
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