Chapter Five

It was yet another shopping day for Rana, she spent the hour before the trip drowning herself in the sea of UFO newspaper clippings on the net. Of the few things she still does on the inter webs, this was one of those. She only went on centralized media to read tweets from UFO activists, who comment about things like the Rockefeller Initiative. But for the everyday individual in their life, this initiative was about as abstract as being captured by the National Security Agency, although this Rockefeller Initiative has more power as a rule. They're riches are well beyond the status of presidents with Dementia on their way toward impeachment. Well beyond the life of mistaken necrophiliacs consuming the blood of life. The world of digital cyber pet girls. Robots girls on the web, open source girls on the Luna network as Butler's of hacker's dreams. As one dreams of being aware of being in a world that is merely a dream, yet life is strange. Perhaps if life is but a dream, than she is aware of being in a dream within a dream. In this dream within a dream, called the magical realistic life, there is the story. A story of an owl, disillusioned by writing children's stories.

The owl who drank nothing but hot chocolate and water, who owned an immortal dog, wondered what childhood would be like in this world where coral reefs were far too gone, and grass fade with the wind. And parents can no longer mow their overgrown lawns. For the blood of life is draining, and the drops of Earth's tears have dropped their last. A dream of a dream within a dream, a world where cities float around in fiberglass bubbles above the edge of time mountain, and childhood hope comes to an end.

Rana never wanted to scare children in her stories, she simply wanted to tell nothing but the truth, yet sometimes this truth of life is often painful. As one consumes the blood of life. The blood of mother Earth, who wants nothing by heaven for her creatures, yet often must face the choice of whether to put her children who have dementia out of their misery, in order to prevent the larger picture picture from fading into a unrecoverable non fixable despair. For one see strange shapes in the night, and one says good night to the damned in strange cities, in worlds beyond the meadow of gold. A world far beyond the world of the white night flower, that gives hope to little girls in wooden shoes, who want to tend to their dying brother's illness. A world where talking animals blend with robotic replications, with automatic translators for mankind. Outside of the city, some say the mysterious still reigns supreme, and yet as it mutates from urbanizations, and one has graveyards move to different locations across the globe, it adapts in ways beyond what technological visionaries may anticipate. For Rana, who drowns in the sea of remote viewing experiments, her attempts at telepathy were her only pathway the world turned to dust. A world of rust.

A world beyond Time Mountain.

Candy Mountain for the dead.

There are two burner laptops, based on the same concept as the burner phone. They had previously tried outlawing burner phone after the recent British terror attack. The Brits were proposing new legislation to end secure encryption by mandating back doors on all British made software. They tried even extending this to burner phones, but the reality was that most of the time burner phones were mainly used to use and throwaway by those who wanted to keep an anonymous social media account that required their phone number. Yet with burner laptops running GNU Linux, there was no issue for back doors. If there was any back door in any distribution it likely would have already been found. Rana uses her burner laptop by plugging in USER ONE thumb drive, along with the communal server jack. She and her friend who did web comics would keep their Luna Coin wallets in MyCloud, along with Tech Articles, Drawings, and other items of interest. Her friend generated raw hash data for Rana to convert into a working cipher key. -- Oh, what's up. I haven't talked to you in a while. Rana said, after tweaking the system settings on her laptop.

-- For the next month or so, going to be busy with the Uni. So it might be a while before I can get back to you.

Rana's friend destroyed her cipher key, and Rana did as well. Rana had gotten an interest in other things on the net and off the net in sneakernet, among those being exploring new ways to secure remote viewing sessions while on the wire, so both the trainer and trainee are able to not have their session intercepted by the deep state when searching for lifeforms beyond the nearest stars. Beyond the land were the current US meets the Tsars on starry nights at the Kremlin. And nuclear bombs scatter across the sky like acid rain. Rana wanted to see where different life forms were like before she suffocated before five decades were up, yet found that she was one of the few with this interest on the corporate network. She was different from Cypherpunks and Cyberpunks, being more like Crypto-Satanist and Disclosure Punk, a weird mixture of metal and punk, and a taste of Liberal Anarchy against the corporate masters who sought to make their dominance the state religion along with the worlds. Rana lived poorly, yet didn't seem such.

Her mother would buy most of her food for her, of which she would always spend a portion of this on cigarillos, although slowly but surely she began to quit smoking not to please her parents, but more than smoking was somewhat of a distraction away from writing children's stories. When she had visited the art studio just next door, she found it difficult to understand how women could possibly find her attractive, although many of them seem to think of her as ten years younger than she actually was. Whether this was because of her weight or demeanor was hard to say with any certainty, and it seemed to vary from person to person. It made it difficult finding relationships, as other women didn't want to be caught boning seventeen year old girls. But Rana wasn't seventeen, she was twenty eight.

She's old enough to watch anime porn.

To recline and masturbate.

Luna network was almost finished, she simply needed to complete what was at times compared to the block chain, although this network was largely off the corporate network, with networking done through thumb drive.

She gave both Alice and Bob accounts a wallet and a mail box, with the wallet generating a cipher key to give to the other correspondent. Because whoever used the thumb drives would be off line, there was nothing that could track them. So the only way one could be found would be from a payed bounty hunter, which required a wholly different skill set from simply analyzing people's browsing habits. Rana wasn't sure who would participate with her in using the thumb drives, but if it was the only way that she was willing to communicate with friends, she can tailor those she hangs out with to those who were more security conscious in general. In this respect, she felt like she was exploring a new frontier. Rana wanted to get into exopolitics. However those in the field were generally hard to get in touch with.

Rana browsed web pages featuring various ufologists. She had gotten out of the habit when she had went to Washington to live with a rapacious atheist, and generally if anything she learned came from this experience, it was that she was more determined than ever to follow her dreams of becoming a ufologist. Yet the clock of doomsday ticked faster than the paradigm clock, and she was unsure who would get past the finish line. It could be any of the hands on either clock by this point, with one determined by a man who could someday be charged for crimes against humanity on the world's stage, with deaths that exceed the previous record of done by Joseph Stalin, back when the Soviet Union was still a thing. The demise of humanity would make the bells of the church of the new axis sing funeral marches for the damned, and much of humanity would wither away in a nanosecond following Nuclear Winter. Therefore, if Rana wanted to explore the concept of an planetary sneaker net, that time was now.

She found it difficult to motivate herself to always do sketches for hash functions, when she would rather tell children's stories, yet the reality was what children would still be willing to read a middle grade novella after all is said and done?

She got her thumb drives.


Fairy Dust



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