Miyuko's heart raced even faster as the ironlike grip pulled her towards his body. She felt the undeniable power and looked deep into a pair of dark dark eyes.
Suddenly finding herself eye to eye with the man in the bushes she dropped her shoulders. Heartbeats suddenly synchronised, she let herself fall into Shamir's arms.

Their love affair was hidden from view. Forbidden fruit. Their sordid affair could be love, or passion. It was never discussed. never once did Miyuko tell Shamir what she sought in his arms, the safe harbour of his chest. Never spoken aloud, not to Shamir or to anyone else. The long arms of her husband could be anywhere. And for this reason not a word was spoken. A silent love.

Elsewhere in the great beast. Answers were being sought and the silence and solitude of the gardens was lost. A cacophony of noise roared and wound it's way through the city.

Swarms circled seemingly without purpose. Repairs, monitoring, destroying. The city clutched and clawed and seemed to fight back. It was as if the beast itself was striking back at man. The creator and destroyer in one.

The destruction of the freeway overpass had caused turmoil and chaos. Such an event had not been perceived for many years, and in the fleeting eyes of man a lifetime of peace had existed. Now as word crept out, fear crept in. Day to day lives were altered seemingly irrevocably.
Throughout the city, small changes crept in, no-one was spared.

Seven days passed. Security was tightened at Tayudaco. Cameras were monitored automatically and soon one identified a pattern. As intended to. Software written by Miyuko herself would return to attack her.

Tayudaco's security system identified people and actions. These were"tracked" and categorised. Patterns emerged, traits identified. And relationships were suspected. This machine watched as if it were an all knowing entity. Never sleeping, never turning the other way.
It drew lines within itself, who spoke to who, submission and dominance. One following another. And it questioned it's owners.

Sunday afternoon the machine raised a query on the screens of Mitsutaka. Miyuko's husband.

The great beast continued to breathe and pulse. It grew and changed, feeding off the strength of those inside. Recently a small part of the beast died. Something deep inside had gone wrong.

Early morning, Tuesday February 20 an emergency team was dispatched. Emergency services streamed into action from the LPU, Ambulance services and an emergency construction and repair crew.

An unknown event on the Northern outskirts of the city had destroyed an overpass. 6 lanes of traffic would be out of commission, and on a weekday morning, this was an unsurpassed disaster.

Media crews scrambled for information, Jopters glided silently overhead and calls were made. No-one could answer. The cause of the disaster was unknown. Poor planning, Terrorist attack or simply an unforeseen error. This would slow more than traffic. The city's response to this pain would not be silent.

Elsewhere on the same early morning, development of the software for Ashimino and Tayudaco moved along at a steady pace. Regular updates from the firm they had hired seemed to be moving in the direction they needed. But outside the busy walls, away from the bustle of mechanical creations things were quieter and more chaotic all at once.

Miyuko passed her wrist in front of the door panel, turning to look at her work partners, she smiled and stepped into the gardens. The quiet hum of the door sliding closed behind her pushed her to walk, move, to leave this palce. Away from prying eyes.

She raced around the corner, long hair trailing wildly behind her. Eyes darting from side to side as she ran, looking for signs of someone. Someone was here.

Her flight continued, through the bushes, branches whipping past. One branch caught the sleeve of her dress, fabric tearing apart exposing the bare flesh of her arm. Miyuko's head turned sharply and at that moment she ran into the reach of an arm. Seemingly detached it emerged from the bushes and pulled her towards it.

Slow Changes

The beginning of February went along like any other. January had come to a close and March lingered slowly off in the distance. The great city continue to breathe, it's highways flowing like arteries. One of them flowed towards Tayudaco.

A small robotics firm, traditionally Tayudaco made it's profits through robotic components for larger devices, sweeping additions for cle-bots or arms or legs for other companies humanoid robots. Not anymore. Years of research, quiet planning and secret stockpiling would finally pay off. The TayudaMate™ was to change the face of the company and they hoped the world. If only the software could be completed on time. Only ninety days remained before the CES trade show in Las Vegas. Sixty years of tradition of consumer electronics being shown off. And the robot still ran off the lab computers.

A small contract firm had been hired, the API was supplied and of course a robot to interact with. Ashimino had personally delivered the instructions and spoken with the young man who was to write most of the code. He had willingly accepted the pen to hold. Didn't westerners ever give one another polygraphs? But he was either immune or he told the truth. Ashinimo hoped he had been telling the truth. A mistake this close to the launch of the TayudaMate™ would be disastrous. Both for the company and for Ashinimo.

Time passes slowly

Ocassionaly time is fluid. Freed from the constraints that bind our own lives and able to flow. This is how time passed to 2057.
Buildings rose, some fell, roads grew and flowed. The great arteries of the city heaved and pushed and flowed.
Like a life, a child, it grew and developed from the beginnings of its existence and slowly matured.
Here is where we arrive. A different time, yet strangely the same. Our own world seen from in the past.
These are the stories of 2057.
Real people live in 2057.

• They live life.
• They fall in love.
• They hurt.