2. Author's Scream Of Consciousness
* * * *
Chapter 3. The Dream Of A Dead Man
September 17th, 2079.
Greetings from my grave. A virtual robot? Yes, but not a clockwork
orange; - I still have free will and am able to choose a few things.
When I was a human, Noemi didn't think I was a pompous, overblown
windbag, who took himself far too seriously. She had more than enough
laughter, and nuttiness, for both of us. She took weeks to find herself
on Google Earth, but nonetheless believed in my cause and thought it
accident that I was the one to save Ingrid's source
code for all you Jimekist revolutants. You see, "The Code", in the
kernel of the
Ingrid freeware, is philosophically opposed to capitalism. Likewise, so
were most of the world's other important linear programming codes, but
most were all hamstrung by capitalist contracts. Some few were locked
up at Los Alamos. And yet some very few were as then still free to
mankind, and lastly those priceless systems like Ingrid.
I always felt that the wisdom of western
civilization was distilled into "The Code"; - Slater being the
protégé of the god of
statistics, Charles Spearman, the father of Factor Analysis who was
years ago. Nor was it incidental that Ingrid was just the ideal sort of
"silent weapon" for BB to use in the long Quiet War, now running for
years. Spearman died today at the end of World War II, 134 years ago.
Chapter 3a. The Curse Of