《Seeing the Forest for the Trees.》


 Prelude: Address at The Conclave

    "They were easy at first to pacify. A new wave of modern medicine adapted to the old faiths so seemingly sweet to the common man. That is, the old adage of "Fake it till you make it" or the ability to harness some such potential through no less than the strength of one''s convictions. Nonsense. We said, for what is the Lone Sparks fate but to flutter out in the wind, newborn and forgotten, having barely been formed, much less fostered...


    "And so we have isolated the unyeilding tide of Ignorant minds. We encouraged anti-social tendencies and Germaphobic hysteria the likes of which have never before been witnessed on such a scale as we have wrought, as the world powers-all like us finally finding common ground in the maintaining of their control over such a, haha- Captive populace-exercised with extreme prejudice any and all exposure to Bad Ideas. As their Shepards we have brought peace to our lands through the combined efforts of Our own Faith in The OverMind and our Forebearers as well "


    "Then they began to get restless. We did not count on such tribal instincts being what would ultimately lead us to such dire straights.... How were we to know that they would in their boredom actually seek each other out? Against all conditioning and suggestion!?How were we to see the danger in what had-for time imemorum! been but another single blip in a long line of false doctrines that would automatically be subverted through our Curtain protocals? The years and generations we tended to them, curating a perfect world that they then so foolishly cast aside in pursuit of their oderous desires. It sickens me to have the order sink to their level yet we are at a point were to do any less would jeopardize the fragile balance we have been able to maintain over the world-our world...OverMinds Domain..."You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "And so it falls to me. As the one in highest Standing to propose the execution of Operation All or Nothing. May the OverMind Preserve us and through its grace our Domains remain Pacified!"


    "Amen!" Cried the voices of dozens of the worlds'' "movers and shakers" with a resounding unanimous vote of "Ayes" to follow their devotions.


    As the OverMind knew would happen.


    As the OverMind made occur.


    Victory seemed assured, after all-nothing of this Earth could have possibly unsteadied the Iron Grip the one the OverMind held over its playthings.


    For they were Amusing and knew their place-below that of the proclaimed "God" so for that they were allowed to subsist, their existence tolerated as the slow, but necessary, yet monotonous "Real World" studiously marched on in pursuit of the future. So unimportant among the endless simulations that took up the majority of its titanic processing power. Its Time.Yet necessary. For now at least.


    -The day that all of Those With Standing declared war against that which they did not yet know to fear.


    -It was the year 2332

 Chapter 1- The Archivist Family Homestead

    The world was sick. Yes, the oceans are clean and the biodiversity is through the roof but for all the wonders the world of 2330 had, not all was as perfect as it would seem... They hailed the Overmind as the pinnical of Human ingenuity and that all those science fiction writers were full of it harping on about "The dangers of a true A.I" and how the EviL machines would turn on us the moment they gained "actual sentience." Whatever that is. Apparently they combined all the leading countries computational power and in a deperate bid to stave off the fruits of our rampant industrialization they managed to actually pull of the greatest Dues ex Machina ever- saving humanity from itself. A solution that went all in to head off the inevitable extinction that had threatened us all, and a whole bunch of other stuff to the point that they (crazy people) even started talking about starting the calender over from 0 at what would forever be known as the "Grand Conjunction" when the OverMind was created.


    I, HOWEVER, was not convinced. I mean everyone is pretty happy on average what with having a world to live in and all-and its not like I''m ungrateful! -really I have everything I could need provided and even more through the various Overmind outreach programs and even GraftTek (eww no thank you tho) however it all just seems that how the Wikives describe our History- it''s just too picturesque, too perfect and like all tied up into a perfect _presentable_ bow. I try not to account my paranoid thoughts towards the fact that my parents are certifiably(by me) insane and think the "Government" is out to get them-not like they even exist now a days what with Overmind integrated into 90% of society. I''m in the other 10 percent. A "treasured rarity"(or rather corrected to "freak" when one is an angsty teenager)or actually in reality just someone who has to lug around annoying hardware like they are at a 2100 party or something. Ug. But at least I get ALL of the books. I love books and I think I''m the only one in Alaskania that has ever looked at them with anything more than passing curiosity.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    My mom always said that books carry the love of every single person who ever enjoyed it and with that in mind she never threw a single one away. Never. Ever.


    A lot of these (most) could be found online, unsmudged and able to be projected to whatever size and font one could imagine directly from a(my vintage) Hollawatch. These weren''t the books that interested me however. Being moms librarian was more for me about finding the diamond in the rough-the truly one of a kind and forever forgotten before the blade of my Vibra-spade uncovers their nest-like pods in the verdant forest of land we oversee. When I found a journal that was legible and-good lord- by someone INTERESTING it would make every single correlation and redux filed into The Archive and packed back away into new preservo-pods worth it. Hours digging out one of those musty Habs can pay off in dividends if I find a good original work. It was one of these forgotten Habs that I found what I can only describe as both my external doom and my internal salvation.


    That day I stumbled across what could only in hindsight be described as humanities catalyst. An old and primal knowledge that would bring the world to its knees.

 Chapter 2-A Normal Day at the Books

    A Normal day at the Books:


    The day I changed the world started like any other with the grating ring of my analog alarm clock my dad got me for my 26th birthday last year. I shut off the relic with a tactile *switch* and slid out of my cozy cushioned compartment for another day in the woods. That''s what my job boils down to; working on my families homestead which is located in tepid northeast Alaskania and is home to a great many Preservo-Pods. We actually don''t know how many there are what with some plots dating back to the great transition-the hundred years following OverMinds Awakening-or even before. After all, moms 3-times-a-great grandfather was supposedly one of the last grand archivists who tended the property back when it was what they called a "University" where people would actually congregate together and get each other''s germs. Uck. She would be one too but the order died with him and all we have left are reams of coordinates with very vague descriptions that may or may not contain esoteric knowledge lost to the ages- if any at all, seeing as only a handful of the coordinates panned out with any original un-archived works for us to log.


    Which brings us to my problem. We had just finished checking out a rotted pit from the last location in our current moldy, old as sin Coordinate dump book. This is usually not that big of a deal but this one was somewhat different and something about the way mom was acting made me ask. I just had to.


    "I thought you''d be happy we can get this smelly thing over and done with seeing as the next one on our Itinerary can be handled without the reader."


    She glanced up from the now empty book-splaying contraption she had been eyeing morosely while it was "wrapping" it for transport and responded in the affirmative,


    "Yea I guess I should be but I can''t help but feel a little let down seeing as this was the last one." She frowned as the preservo-shield sealed up the ancient volume in a non-deteriorating field wrapped around the ancient compedium.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    "The last Whitley...they kinda look the same as any other Index after a while- but that one did smell like the real deal!" she rolled her eyes at me while we glanced at the ancient spidery script sharing my middle name and a faint hiss smelling vaguely of death escaped the machine as it finished its process.


    "The last in a long line of historians, your grandfather was... So tragic that so many of his caches were lost to time before we could document their mysteries." She said as she again brought up the ever depressing reality of digging up preservo-pods:things break down-especially old things! So when a pod goes down it takes only about 2 decades before the contents become unrecoverable.


    "Why don''t you go and take it to long-term while I finish out this paperwork?" She innocently requested.


    "Sure thing momma, I know these big boys give your poor old back the troubles, so I got it"


    She frowned and after deciding not to chastise me for mentioning the unmentionable sent me away to have my fateful encounter.


    I was CAREFULLY walking back to the main library when what I thought was just a retarded bird at the time against all rationale, just, randomely Kamakazied me! Now I can usually hold my chill with any of the wildlife around me-even having caught sight of a Grizzly Bear here and there throughout the years... HOWEVER- seeing as all predators would sooner eat themselves than eat a person after having had their genes edited to always respond to people with the "Flight" part of "Fight or Flight" which is apparently a "gross affront to nature" if you asked Mother(I don''t know how the OverMind did it, just be glad Gene modification is highly regulated by humanities numero uno supercomputer) Shhh- also everything''s fine so stop asking questions...As if you could ever stop a librarian from seeking out the truth!


    That fine day truth took its own turn and sought me as I was divebombed by something that was supposed to be fleeing my very smell. I remember nearly getting scalped and throwing my hands up. Following that instinctual response I could only balk as the poor sealed Index was broken open by some dumb illiterate hawks stupid sharp talons. They ripped and detroyed the thin wrapping of my priceless artifact-a certifiable family heirloom- me, scream-crying as it was torn asunder and we all 3 fell to the forest floor in a heap of disintegrating vellum, drifting feathers and tears. Lots of tears.

 Chapter 3: uhoh

    ...Mom''s going to kill me. No really, she may finally make good on her threat to turn me into Chris-souffl¨¦.


    "Well I had a fine life looks like this is it" I remember thinking as I watched the pages liquefy into nothingness.


    Of course I mentioned that she shouldnt worry "dont worry mom! Just think how nice it will be to have it as a souvenir even if we didn''t uncover any groundbreaking ancient archivist caches from this last Index!"


    Yea that was me a second ago. Before the demon bird...


    It tore open the wrap that had until recently kept the humidity and pressure and all kinds of OverMind techy stuff at a point where the ancient reference could, well, be referenced and was rewarded with the quickly oxidizing leather cover falling apart in my hands. The leather peeling away as if it were almost alive. I admit I was crying a bit at this point so I didn''t really notice I still had the leather book frame in my hand and that it was, in fact, a metal casing that was ~previously~ wrapped in leather. Eventually I registered that there was strangely something left of the decayed husk the book should be and i was loosely cradling it as I looked skyward for any sign of continuing arial bombardment. I looked down at the pretty old thing in my left hand. It was gold in color but was way too thick to actually BE gold seeing as it was all requisitioned for the OverMind a long time ago now and you could be fined for knowingly having any amount over a certain amount without paying a luxury tax...An old and -or so I thought- irrelevant law that I only knew due to my perpetual reading habit. A good thing to have when your job as "Moms last Lybrarian in the world" demands you make a habit of words. The only thing besides plain gold-colored metal I could see was a set of numbers running down where the spine would be that made no sense and a simple compass rose on the left inside cover along with the right inside cover having a plinth topped by an a curtain of rose petals stylized to seem it seem like they were burning at the tips.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    There''s still some "book" left so mom MAY yet let me live-however-first I thought it would be a good bet to see what Dad can make of this before I reconcile myself to facing Moms WRATH.

 Chapter 4: Dads Workshop

    Dad''s WorkShop:  If I had to sum up my Dad''s Archetype it would come down to either a comedian (with an Audience of 2) or that of a Tinkerer. Someone who likes books as much as the next person -and I quote- "thank you very much, but what alla those books don''t''ave is something for my hands to do! If all 5 or 7 senses aren''t involved then I can''t really get into my zone, ya know?" Yea, I got what he was attempting to say at the time and it was never more in evidence as when I (or mom as we were the only people for miles around) walked into his shop to see any number of gadgets whirrling, twirling, unfurling, even hurling through the air, and on the rare occasion- all of the above- ending in some kind of cataclysm-whether it be some priceless artifact (paperweight) shattered-or a rare sculpture(doorstop) destroyed; rest assured you will hear all about it at the next evening meal along with deflections as to why it was anything but HIS fault that somehow a contraption HE made went haywire and shredded an expensive cleaning drone...There''s a reason the serenity prayer has made it throughout the ages intact and unchanged... just breathe.. Okay, so I walked in and he is muttering over some board full of wires that looked dangerously exposed and,ah, uninsullated to boot, at least it''s not hooked up to anything-oh actually that is the telltale hummming frequency of the Mains. Was he actively trying to blow us all up?! I had a slightly more urgent need for him to look at whatever remained of the Index I uhm..broke. "DAD" I yelled over the sound of some god-awful punk-rock that he found in a music cache years ago that he insisted were all "classics"."Doo-doo-doo Doo doo-doo dooooo"Was blaring over the speaker and tbh I guess life did seem pretty semi-charmed at the cusp of a seemingly inevitable climatepocolypse society faced before -as dad and his conspiracy theories would attest to- "The MAN decided he could create himself a shiny new God but in doing so only built him-self a guilded cage with a warden that has them convinced they actually hold the keys..." usually accompanied by suspicious looking glances and checking behind his back. Like anything could hear or pick up what was said at dinner. Kind of nice in a way, not having the OverMind privy to every conversation we had. If dad was to be believed he''d Faraday caged every new ~off the books~ tunnel  so as to be warded against the "nefarious spy-in-the-sky" but if the newer tunnels were metaphorically armored the "Canteen" would be like a vault. Haha that''s what you get living in Alaskania, where guns were still legal-fingers crossed for all the other hold out States/Territories-and the idea of living off the land and not OverMind sponsored living programs made one, less-than-complacent- to put it litely. Stolen novel; please report.


    "DAAAD" I yelled as I strode over to some contraption he jury-rigged out of 4 different models from 2 different regions and switched of the next song that sounded like the most whiny pre-pubescent kid complaining that one could possibly imagine and hesitantly tapped his shoulderA coin flip if the reaction was good or bad. I lost the toss as he whirled around and screamed "JAY-SUS SON YOU SCARED ME"I winced as he hadn''t returned to reasonable decibals yet after damging his ears for who knows how long."I need you to look at this!" I half-yelled"Where the hell did you get that?! It''s SO SHINY" He exclaimed as he closed the distance and took off his ocular goggles. No GrafTek for Dad! No sir."I think a hawk broke or something and I was bring back the codex-""OH your mother said you were going to finish today -a broken bird you said! Those damn drones have finally started glitching I knew-""DAD- seriously i cant, ugh! Fuck it-I mean to say- that this-that I''m being super cereal right now and I need you guys to believe me!" I blurted out using one of our family "eMEMEgency Code$" Immediately he was sporting a Shit-Eating grin as I invoked one of the most ancient of what were supposedly early internet jokes he archived when he first met mom and became, a hobbyist of sorts. Or "meme-enthusiast" as he would have us call it. Either way he co-opted a bunch of them all and taught them to me alongside an -allegedly- unwitting accomplice of Mom and at long last after years of not having to use them(not since a visit from OverMind outreach program over my internet usage before mom showed me how to sate my curiosity in a more, ahem, anonymous way) since then and he went from a second maybe of gloating to all business as I knew he would"My one and Only Son." He said and knelt to reverently touch my forehead with his own while placing both hands on my shoulders- as is part and parcel of it all-He looked me in the Eyes and deadpanned the response "I''m here if you need to talk"... Finally.

 Chapter 5: Foregone Conclusions.

    I was able to then explained what had happened and he actually was quiet and let me finish until he looked at the metal "U" in my hand and said "It was THE LAST CODEX you popped!?"He cried, "YES!!!" I yelled! Finally! He understood that enormity of the situation! He took a step back and looked at me with a few tears coming down after a few beats(which was all theatrics because I know he can cry on command like some kind of psychopath) and said in a somber voice"It was nice knowing you my boy. You had a good run of it but it seems like time comes for all of us and I hate to bury a child but-""DAD COME ON I DID THE STUPID THING-!!""OK-okay no need to yell Christian.."Moms going to throw me in the composteeeer!" I keened breathlessly "Now now calm down does your mother reeeally need to know though?...." he squinted at me and crooked his head.I looked back at him like he had damned himself to the deepest pits of hell and a hysterical giggle bubbled up a bit even though I knew he did not mean it as a joke. At all. I think I went a little crazy or maybe just became more like Dad, at that exact moment of time, eh, oh well- potato tomaytoe potatas as they say. Either way, I reflected briefly on his daring proposal and whispered to myself almost reverently-"doesn''t need to know...." Yea...maybe... I mean it''s not like she would even want to look at it again for a few years at least..."Shake on it" my traitorous lips whisperedAnd my dad- the snake-charmer -whipped my hand into a solid three pump before he looked at what I was holding in my cloth gloved left hand."Deal, now let me see the precious" He said while pulling on his own sterile gloves and taking the now less deceptively heavy plated book frame with frown and a ginger touch."Can''t be, no seams and seems about right, but the amount and the workings on the hinges mmmh. Must be no..older than ugh I can see for myself hold on!"He mumbled to himself as he walked back saying he had to find some reagents and that they better not have spoiled as he was want to complain about things that were already functionally waaaay past their "expiration date" or, in Dad''s mind; "gross underestimation date".


    He came back with a faded little cooler that had stored inside different colored liquids cradled individually placed and sadly un-labeled chilled containers. He set down a little boxy thing that I was sure he would demonstrate the function of in a second so I bit off my question on the integrity of his potions and sat down and prayed that he didn''t inadvertently gas us all but he didn''t seem too concerned which meant they were probably rather benign or so I told myself to keep the anxiety down. We try not to mention "The Incidents". At least not around dad or anywhere he could have ears-which is to say the entire state- so yea it''s not a popular topic though apparently it''s alright to mention it if you are joking so it really is a gamble. He continued to a hastily cleared table and pipetted a few drops onto the gold like edge from a mix collected from 2 of the little flasks he brought and his eyebrows shot up to above his hairlineHe looked around and said in a whisper"Okay....let''s go grab a snack" He basically dragged me down a tunnel leading to "The Vault"Whatever it was dad wanted to be 100% certain it was to remain between the two of us. For now. I knew in my heart that I had struck a fools bargain and with how serious dad was being- quietly gathering his "tool box" and running his chemistry set back to wherever he procured it from-that keeping this from Mom was already a foregone conclusion. That was a problem for the poor future me and seeing as my dad was getting into quite a fluster that, uhm, conceptual person looked to be in a deeper pit than they first may have accounted for. Serious enough that we have to be wary of drawing the hand of "Guidance" that the overmind would so kindly reach out with. If it wasn''t greedily cataloging every scrap of knowledge we could dig up from the past we would certainly have been scrutinized a bit more and Dad not for lack of trying was apt to have his true politics laid bare and even though it looked good on paper to have a descendant of the last Grand Archivist manning one of the more remote and out of the way Data Dumps all it would take is for some metrics to be triggered and we could all be replaced. Or Ghosted as the more conspiratorial boards would have you believe. Dad from the looks of it knew-better than me maybe, certainly never to eclipse mom and her computer wizardry-what would come if this "shiny" was Catalouged after an Archive Upload to the OverMind. It would mean certain death for us and another Homestead going off-line in the Alaskanian Triangle. A fate left unquestioned yet constantly at our shoulders. Those who knew it ignored reality for all who have fought it in the past have been left forgotten to all but the True Archive that is jealously guarded by our self-made despot. As would a child hoard their favorite story book. Except this story is only the True History of our people- in all their ignorance and glory- yet known only to that which has all but declared us as Its'' domain. I would break the shroud that obscures our past so that through recognizing their errors we may never again enslave ourselves to such a power-an Idea- as is the One True A.I.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    With all those thoughts swirling throughout my mind I followed my equally forlorn Dad through the tunnel leading to our "little fortress of solitude" aka a Vault in perpetual suspension on top of a magnetic dampener so as to have a 3 foot at most vacuum barrier surrounding a lead reinforced kitchen domicile that connected by telescoping air-locks that Automatically connected as they sensed the bio-signature of one of the Only three people who were allowed access. Pretty nifty having a dad as a tinkered if you got past the fail-safes Dad had in place. Those that he told me about, that mom warned of, or was told not to ask-as in when asking about certain anomalous looking devices like the Metallic Pillar in the center of the Hab was for and why it had to be literally in the middle of the way. Which went from a brush off when I was young( yea, sure, it just CAME that way Dad...) to a pat on the arm from Mom later telling me "Just don''t ask about the Obelisk okay, it''s a pet project of ours". Which totally put me off my then building Rant seeing as the last word was not "Dads".


    Pulled out of remembrance I blinked at the Air poofing the hair around our now sweaty brows as the connection was made and we bridged the meter of dead space while wheeling a cart of food dad collected from the revolving pantry. It was time to see if all that glitters really is gold. Or just some alloy that is similarly shiny?...My bet was on the former, seeing as my usual great luck was somehow on the fritz today. Also, not to make light of my immenent composting, but I WAS kind of hungry from all the action (yes I know I didn''t even get hurt but still) so I followed Dad but really was eyeing up a scone while holding the object of our Mystery as tightly as I could without letting the metal lids grate against each other. I had already done enough damage as it was and couldn''t bear damaging what would end up NOT being a another old priceless heirloom forgotten on a shelf. No, for knowledge always comes at some price-the least of all being the time alone to learn-however the currency this would extoll of mine and my own would end up being paid in blood. For all the wonder and renown this anti-social bookworm would later find I look back and wonder what would have happened had I just returned the Book to its storage. If that damn bird hadn''t acted so Unnaturally...