The Winter of our Discotheque, Part 2/2

2007-03-27T16:03:17Z

Out of the left speaker column he blasts 5/4 time. Out of the right 12/10. The nanite snowfall bends to his will, bullied by the bass and stirred with the treble. He can hear the dancers gasp in wonder at his creation, but he still doesn’t open his eyes.

The nanites want this. They crave structure and he gives it to them. They start relaying information back to help him, but he doesn’t need it. A whitewashed tornado spins on the floor, an miracle of information and rhythm. The dancers take turns writhing in it.

The nanites are in heaven, collecting data the likes of which they’ve never seen. If only there was somewhere to send it.

The leader takes pity on them. He knows crowd info-harvesting is illegal now, but he downloads the info anyway. This will be the last snowfall in this place that can talk back and he wants to hear everything it has to say.

Before long the tornado stops transmitting. Now it’s just sugar snow and the leader lets the discotheque fall silent. Deafening. Respectful. He likes it.

The Winter of Our Discotheque, Part 1/2

2007-03-27T16:02:44Z

Feet shuffle through a fine nanite snow, ankles cutting patterns in the powder. Rhythmic thunder vibrates the floor and the nanites dance with their human counterparts in their final minutes of life, continually gathering information with nowhere to send it. Discaires punch their keyboards on stage, keys made invisible by the torrent of intelligent sleet, each performer programming their music blind.

One silicon musician takes control and pushes the other rhythms aside. He has a vision and the others meekly fall in line. The leader has his eyes closed, but he can see the floor of the discotheque in his mind. Blind dancers tickled by the mild shocks of the fluttering snow, sugar-made nanites dissolving on their tongues like candy. Normally the leader tries to move the dancers, to bend them to his rhythm like a despotic Bacchus , but he has higher aspirations tonight.

cPasley's Stories

The Winter of our Discotheque, Part 2/2

The Winter of Our Discotheque, Part 1/2