| ScionofDestiny | 04-03-2006 08:12 PM |
This is a remake of a fic I made and posted on www.savebigo.com. For people here who have already read that one, I have added some changes and made an extended ending - heh heh heh...
It wasn't every man who could expect having a customer like him. This was, after all, outside the Domes. Even so, I knew he would come long before I actually knew him - if you understand me. Neither we nor our exchanges have changed much over the years. He comes in, sits down, starts downing down beers, and then asks all the questions for which there are no direct answers.
None that I am going to give him anyway. Despite this, he finds value in our ... continued correspondance. Information doesn't have to be direct to be invaluable - and something that is invaluable can have a price put on it, if the seller wills it.
Who am I? I am I. Looking back on it, I'd have to say that keeping this small revelation about myself in my mind is the only thing that has allowed me to keep my sanity over the ears. When others forget, I remember. Where others have forgotten, I remembered. While the lost are known the knowing are lost. That is them - this is me.
There is one thing that does trouble me though - one thing that phases even my seemingly absolute, insurmountable self-confidence. Why was I chosen to remember? Both the past and the so-called unknowable future? Why did He Who Is Both Part and Outside That Which Was Created choose me? I alone of Android know my surface Memories - but did I remember them or did they recall me?
Whatever the answer is, I am Big Ear. I am the Prophet. I am the mouthpiece of He Who is Both part and Outside That Which was Created.
I Hear All - But I Tell Little.
"I need some information," he says before he has even sat down. Black suit, black glasses, black car - Roger Smith, the Negotiator - the man of contradictions.
"Naturally," I said. This after all is my role - my destiny - my script - and my Act. This is my part.
And I will play it perfectly.
What was this? Was this a Memory? Of the past? Oh yes - now I remember. The Revelation is at hand. The Paradigm Shift has come once again.
"I just thought you'd like to know Roger," I wanted to explain something that had been troubling me ever since I met the Negotiator. "It is foolish to ask if memories existed before forty years ago - Paradigm City was designed to be a "stage" without a past." I put my newspaper aside and took a final sip from my cup. "Just thought you'd like to know." And then came the death I had comtemplated for so long - destroyed twixt Earth and Sea.
I reveled in my nothingness. Death though I may be, it was my destiny to preside over the End of Times - the Coming of Time - the Coming of Big Venus - I reveled in the nothingness that awaited us all. Everything had returned to the Original State - before the Beginning of Times - the beginning of the "plot".
I sat back and took a sip from my cup. This is Paradigm City. The City of Amnesia. City of Domes. The City Without Sunlight. This is the stage as set down by Angel Rosewater.
"Here we go again," I muttered. I wondered if my role would be any different.
Sub Act 1 - Big Ear the Prophet
It wasn't every man who could expect having a customer like him. This was, after all, outside the Domes. Even so, I knew he would come long before I actually knew him - if you understand me. Neither we nor our exchanges have changed much over the years. He comes in, sits down, starts downing down beers, and then asks all the questions for which there are no direct answers.
None that I am going to give him anyway. Despite this, he finds value in our ... continued correspondance. Information doesn't have to be direct to be invaluable - and something that is invaluable can have a price put on it, if the seller wills it.
Who am I? I am I. Looking back on it, I'd have to say that keeping this small revelation about myself in my mind is the only thing that has allowed me to keep my sanity over the ears. When others forget, I remember. Where others have forgotten, I remembered. While the lost are known the knowing are lost. That is them - this is me.
There is one thing that does trouble me though - one thing that phases even my seemingly absolute, insurmountable self-confidence. Why was I chosen to remember? Both the past and the so-called unknowable future? Why did He Who Is Both Part and Outside That Which Was Created choose me? I alone of Android know my surface Memories - but did I remember them or did they recall me?
Whatever the answer is, I am Big Ear. I am the Prophet. I am the mouthpiece of He Who is Both part and Outside That Which was Created.
I Hear All - But I Tell Little.
"I need some information," he says before he has even sat down. Black suit, black glasses, black car - Roger Smith, the Negotiator - the man of contradictions.
"Naturally," I said. This after all is my role - my destiny - my script - and my Act. This is my part.
And I will play it perfectly.
What was this? Was this a Memory? Of the past? Oh yes - now I remember. The Revelation is at hand. The Paradigm Shift has come once again.
"I just thought you'd like to know Roger," I wanted to explain something that had been troubling me ever since I met the Negotiator. "It is foolish to ask if memories existed before forty years ago - Paradigm City was designed to be a "stage" without a past." I put my newspaper aside and took a final sip from my cup. "Just thought you'd like to know." And then came the death I had comtemplated for so long - destroyed twixt Earth and Sea.
I reveled in my nothingness. Death though I may be, it was my destiny to preside over the End of Times - the Coming of Time - the Coming of Big Venus - I reveled in the nothingness that awaited us all. Everything had returned to the Original State - before the Beginning of Times - the beginning of the "plot".
I sat back and took a sip from my cup. This is Paradigm City. The City of Amnesia. City of Domes. The City Without Sunlight. This is the stage as set down by Angel Rosewater.
"Here we go again," I muttered. I wondered if my role would be any different.
