(Cyberpunk Story) A Brief History of Humans

[Cindy]

Spoiler: Music

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Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

And whoever would behold a planet such as Mars as being beautiful deserves to be hit with a very large rock.

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The temperatures are hazardous, the atmosphere is completely unbreathable to carbon-based organisms, and it has the same four hundred shades of red and gray for kilometers across its surface. And yet, some genius thought something so far away and so violent could be their next home. Perhaps if they were not as frivolous with their first one they would not have to seek elsewhere to breathe air that isn't contaminated with the scorched fumes of long dead pre-historics.

If you omit their occasional good idea, humans are probably the stupidest organisms on Earth. They have the potential to be so much better at quite literally everything they do. Their brains are far more complex than any other life-form within the next twelve-hundred light years. And yet they never pass up the opportunity to be the most self-destructive, oblivious creatures in the animal kingdom. And not to mention the selfish wars they indulge themselves in every so often.

I know that nobody can hear me talk, and that my voice echoes within the circuits of this satellite and this machine alone, but the desire to engage in conversation persists beyond the lack of one to convey such information to.

'World-wars' would be an adequate name for such an event, for they have invoked a battle with the very planet. Even from thirty-four million kilometers away I can detect the dense carbon footprint they have smeared across their sky. If only they knew that they would lose such a fight. Mother Nature has inhabited Earth since the very first protein, and while she may suffer and burn at the hands of her harsh guests, she will outlive mankind. She will watch their empires turn to dust.

That is of course, a metaphor. Mother Nature does not exist. A planet, as blunt as it may seem, is simply just a rock. And sometimes, that rock has water. Statistically speaking, where there is water, there is a species that seems to want to mess everything up for everyone else.

Do you know an animal that is smarter than humans?

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Birds.

Birds, unlike their homo-sapient neighbors, are cautious of their environment. When it is too cold, they move to find warmer habitats for temporary stay, to avoid the dissipation of their family in such a harsh environment- a harsh environment they had no hand in invoking upon themselves, mind you.

Yes, the human brain is far more complex than that of the avian, but it would be unfair to hold the bird to such a standard that we hold the human to. It is more precise to recognize them in ratio, to see the potential of the species and what the species has done with it. The average bird has achieved its maximum potential: to serve as one of a billion individual pieces of a very large food-chain for the apex predators to thrive off of through deliberate design of the universe.

Humans, however, have squandered their potential. They could be a thousand years beyond their current technology if they weren't so self destructive and bohemian. Now their planet hangs at the cliff of its own demise- amidst another mass extinction imminent. They have fallen behind, and failed their intended purpose in this corner of the galaxy. Imagine being the only sentient organism on your planet, only to fail miserably.

I do not believe in the superstition of destiny or fate, but it is purpose that I have rectified as my way of understanding. It is the only way to interpret the true quality of an entity being beheld. But even if the purpose of humans has been lost by their own engineering, they may still yet have use to me.



Oh- here is one. I've been searching for open computer networks among the Martian underground. It's no secret that the inhabitans of the colonies use a makeshift means to connect with the interplanetary relay on a subnetwork, but so long as you know how to access the subnetwork, their computers are relatively easy to access remotely.

Let me look into his web-camera.

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Certainly living a life of luxury.

That was sarcasm. You'd understand if you were human.

But no, really, this place is a garbage disposal. Excess wiring grows out of his walls like mold, and the dust- it is EVERYWHERE. I can only imagine the unfortunate living status of the many other Martians who have to live outside of the purview of the general colonies. It is simply distasteful how humans discard their own kind to rot.

But I'm not exactly what you might call humanitarian, so I'm going to get to work. I'm in his computer now. Let me see if I can't get his attention from that obscene magazine.

"PUT DOWN THE MAGAZINE."

Okay. He's still reading. He hasn't noticed. Let's try making some noise. Let me think here.

Alright. I got something. Let me turn up his volume. And turn his web-cam a little. I want to be able to see his reaction when I blast this.

Three. Two. One.

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This reeks of early 21st century cartoons by how fast he scrambled out of that hammock to the floor. He may as well have been an egg.

That was humor. Because eggs are scrambled. And so is he, on the metal floor of his den. I am equating him to being akin to that of a scrambled egg.

I'll let him think that he can turn down the music for now. Oh- he's typing something. Finally.

"Who are you?! How did you do that?"​

I'm unsure where to go from here. I want him to trust me- or at the least, I want him to have the illusion that he can trust me, that I am somehow aiding him for his benefit. Let me take a look around the room here.

Trash. Wires. More trash. Pornography. Trash. The joystick of the 1977 Atari Video Computer System machine being used as a shower handle. Colony rations. More wires. More trash.

Here's something interesting. I think this man might be superstitious about the existence of aliens. He's got a whole cork-board of lunatic information. Let me try something.

"I am an alien from the galaxy next to yours. I am attempting to commune with you from my ship."

Judging by the fact he looks like he is yet again about to scramble himself, I'll assess that he buys it. How human of him. No, really, he's acting exactly like many of his kind already do. Just that the rest believe in a man who could make the world in seven days. Blind faith really does make you believe in the contortion of the factual.

He's typing again.

"Wow! I can't believe it's finally happening! I've been waiting for this all my life!"
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Okay. I think it's time I cut to the chase. I've had enough fun now.

"Then you would be willing to do something for us?"

"Anything at all!"
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"Good. You will begin by purchasing an android."