calcium creates bone and tooth molecules and so on.
Mitochondria: What can I say, a real project.
Cruel Ruler: Sounds like that.
Mitochondria: It took us a long time until we were able to
put together a virtual bacterium from its DNA. But when it happened… it was
amazing.
Cruel Ruler: And that is the Genosimulation?
Mitochondria: Yes. A computer simulation that follows what
the genome is making, step by step.
Mitochondria: Then it processes these steps to biological
and physical terms.
Mitochondria: I can only tell you, those simulations have
taught us a thing or two about the nature of life. And every other study’s
going in the wrong direction, but what do we care about them? Let them waste
their effort.
Cruel Ruler: And that's what you did to your ape? Geno
simulationshit?
Mitochondria: Yes. We took Bobby's DNA, and we did a
simulation of it. It took nearly two years for the computer to process all this
information, to the point where biologists diagnosed a heart muscle failure
that was slowly being created. That way we could know when he would die of a
heart attack.
Cruel Ruler: And it really happened.
Mitochondria: Yes. It happened.
Cruel Ruler: And about you?
Mitochondria: Yes.
Mitochondria: I have a family history of cancer. It's genetic.
There’s a fear of it. So last year I decided to do a private simulation,
without the commander’s knowledge.
*
A small beep.
He did not notice it at first.
He was too busy in complex calculations, making a series of
mental maneuvers in the dark, making the greatest computer grid in the world
slightly more efficient.
As always, his mind wandered to distant places, thought and
spoke in its own language. And in his thoughts small computers became busy
ants, larger computers were beetles, and security codes and firewalls were no
more than water ditches in the garden. Above, it was necessary to establish
bridges of twigs, or make an ant get to work digging.
And he dug, and he built, and he bypassed. And commanded
thousands of busy ants to gather in one of the deep trenches in the dirt, until
the channel was filled temporarily. Somewhere in the real world, the computer
network of a large bank in Vancouver crashed, and a small spider, almost
invisible, crossed it quickly and merged into the big, complex, tunnel network,
which was in the water canal.
Tiny, very tiny, the spider was. Out of sight from prying
eyes, it was very active, weaving a delicate network of threads around the
complex opening.
A small beep.
But still not strange enough to disturb the dreamy,
concentrated, unconscious smile that hovered over Zomy's lips.
Rows and rows of numbers streamed across the new window in
the huge rectangular screen, and Zomy saw how his spider trapped an ant first,
then another, and another. It's night now in Canada, he knew, and most ants are
sleeping an honest sleep. Tomorrow would be the really successful hunting
operation, with more than fifteen thousand ants joining, without knowing, his
huge ant army.
Still not huge enough, of course. But it would come. He looked
away, and drove his consciousness to the beep of the first window, where the
battalion continued to throw its efforts at the blocked dirt canal, without a
real reason now. Zomy stopped them at the touch of a button, and another click
scattered them to their burrows. A look to the sky, to the environment - no, no
one spied on him. The action (beep) passed without detection, no real
resistance.
By the time a guard colony passed by, the first of hundreds
who would sweep the attacked place, nothing remained from his ant regiment.
Only a small spider, doing his work properly, remained hidden in the shadows of
the fortress territory.
A small beep.
What?!
The small beep, which was designed to sound strange and
disturbing, was suddenly a familiar face. It was no less than his racing gnat,
which was programmed to notify him immediately on such things. And his heart
skipped a beat, the result of an
Mitochondria: What can I say, a real project.
Cruel Ruler: Sounds like that.
Mitochondria: It took us a long time until we were able to
put together a virtual bacterium from its DNA. But when it happened… it was
amazing.
Cruel Ruler: And that is the Genosimulation?
Mitochondria: Yes. A computer simulation that follows what
the genome is making, step by step.
Mitochondria: Then it processes these steps to biological
and physical terms.
Mitochondria: I can only tell you, those simulations have
taught us a thing or two about the nature of life. And every other study’s
going in the wrong direction, but what do we care about them? Let them waste
their effort.
Cruel Ruler: And that's what you did to your ape? Geno
simulationshit?
Mitochondria: Yes. We took Bobby's DNA, and we did a
simulation of it. It took nearly two years for the computer to process all this
information, to the point where biologists diagnosed a heart muscle failure
that was slowly being created. That way we could know when he would die of a
heart attack.
Cruel Ruler: And it really happened.
Mitochondria: Yes. It happened.
Cruel Ruler: And about you?
Mitochondria: Yes.
Mitochondria: I have a family history of cancer. It's genetic.
There’s a fear of it. So last year I decided to do a private simulation,
without the commander’s knowledge.
*
A small beep.
He did not notice it at first.
He was too busy in complex calculations, making a series of
mental maneuvers in the dark, making the greatest computer grid in the world
slightly more efficient.
As always, his mind wandered to distant places, thought and
spoke in its own language. And in his thoughts small computers became busy
ants, larger computers were beetles, and security codes and firewalls were no
more than water ditches in the garden. Above, it was necessary to establish
bridges of twigs, or make an ant get to work digging.
And he dug, and he built, and he bypassed. And commanded
thousands of busy ants to gather in one of the deep trenches in the dirt, until
the channel was filled temporarily. Somewhere in the real world, the computer
network of a large bank in Vancouver crashed, and a small spider, almost
invisible, crossed it quickly and merged into the big, complex, tunnel network,
which was in the water canal.
Tiny, very tiny, the spider was. Out of sight from prying
eyes, it was very active, weaving a delicate network of threads around the
complex opening.
A small beep.
But still not strange enough to disturb the dreamy,
concentrated, unconscious smile that hovered over Zomy's lips.
Rows and rows of numbers streamed across the new window in
the huge rectangular screen, and Zomy saw how his spider trapped an ant first,
then another, and another. It's night now in Canada, he knew, and most ants are
sleeping an honest sleep. Tomorrow would be the really successful hunting
operation, with more than fifteen thousand ants joining, without knowing, his
huge ant army.
Still not huge enough, of course. But it would come. He looked
away, and drove his consciousness to the beep of the first window, where the
battalion continued to throw its efforts at the blocked dirt canal, without a
real reason now. Zomy stopped them at the touch of a button, and another click
scattered them to their burrows. A look to the sky, to the environment - no, no
one spied on him. The action (beep) passed without detection, no real
resistance.
By the time a guard colony passed by, the first of hundreds
who would sweep the attacked place, nothing remained from his ant regiment.
Only a small spider, doing his work properly, remained hidden in the shadows of
the fortress territory.
A small beep.
What?!
The small beep, which was designed to sound strange and
disturbing, was suddenly a familiar face. It was no less than his racing gnat,
which was programmed to notify him immediately on such things. And his heart
skipped a beat, the result of an
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