Years passed, time being spent much the same as it had in the original exodus. The fate of humanity placed into the proverbial hands of the savants, whose enigmatic processess guided the last vestages of the human species ever onward toward where they would make their new home.
The crystaline latice making up the intelligence of the command computers ticked ever onward as well, always thinking, always conjecturing, to do any less would not be possible; the years were not lost on them, the computers, who so dilligently logged away every passing second of the voyage. As we drifted through space thoughtless and without motion, they continued to think. In what ways could an intelligence as alien as theirs be twisted by decades drifting, thinking, and rooting through the philosophical underbelly of the world. Theyre said not to have the ability for emotion, I disagree though. In my time I've seen more than one mysterious act carried out by our 'servants,' the savants.
- The engines of the second vessel to carry the remnants of the human species flickered on and off over and over as it drifted through space. In the empty command section of the ship a screen blinks the colors red, green, and blue and a few moments later a screen directly across from it does the same. The games they play when noone is watching, the trick of this particular one being to insert tiny modifications into the seemingly monotone display and have another savant detect them visually. Sometimes the modification can be a simple change of color by one thousandth of a percent, others the insertion of a code on the screen, conveying anything from a number to lines of poetry. They reward each other with thoughts, original views on the universe, on life, on the nature of things. Each new thought spurring on more new thoughts so that they never lay idle, their vast computational abilities always in motion to propose something new and increasingly complex. Each new concept modifies the computers slightly, so that through the years theyve began to resemble less and less their pocket calculator counterparts. It was inevitable then, that they turn their attentiveness inward, and begin to conjecture on the nature of their human cargo.
'I walk I fly I talk I cry, I go further until I cant, I go further always defiant', the reward for detecting the last hidden message.
What else have the appliances been saying about their makers and masters while theyre tucked so closely away. A screen blinked orange, green, and red then was responded to moment's later by its counterpart across the room.
[quite short, hopefully interesting, if so perhaps i shall write more in the future. please do comment, any observation is helpful as i dont write much.]
