Ice: The Ninth Novel In The Pseudoverse - Professor Apocrypha Reynedropolous Ph.D. A 'Melting
The world’s greatest mathematician with a doctorate and a minor in computer science, Apocrypha Reynedropolous Ph.D. (Her friends know her by the name of “Reyne”) is a Greek Cuban cigar smoking Professor formerly wooed by hundreds of Universities and Colleges. Chemistry and Transhumanism were also hobbies when she wasn’t down at the beach, sunning her buns topless in a white thong stitched with mathematical equations. Snapping on her music implant behind her left ear (Word Up―Korn) Apocrypha was the poster woman for independence. The number of circuits Apocrypha sewn and embedded into her own body was bordering near one-hundred. A self-implanted nuclear power supply ran her inventions integrated into her left palm. Most of them were homemade enhancements rewiring her own body for fun and amusement, although her advancements in “Electric Tattoos” made them safe and affordable for the Transhuman DIY crowd. (The old-style tattoos lit by friction inside the vagina were outdated and deemed very unsafe by most fire departments, emergency rooms, Pimps, and Johns)
The winning Nobel Laureate for the advancement of Mathematics and Science at age twenty-two made her stocks soar into the Ionosphere. Up until she arrived, there was no Nobel Prize for Mathematics. However, that changed just for her findings. Millions of admirers, and “wannabe manly men and hormone stricken boys” as she put it, wooed the stunning, intelligent, and gorgeous creature. Girls and women emulated her looks and style as well as sending her pictures of their own bodies with implants they invented. The line was long for those who could not get enough of her rock star status in the nerd community. Her plasma-like green irises and dark olive skin made her a target for every asshole and pervert around the globe. The whiskey maker Black Velvet had her under contract. The only drink she drank on ice, ever. She did several commercials for them in a very lucrative deal wearing as little as possible. This was her idea. Whiskey sales rose over four-hundred percent when she wore only three black shot glasses held on by ‘sweat and force’ in one commercial.
Apocrypha stayed grounded and as humble as she possibly could choosing the “very isolated” University of Iceland for her home under the condition that they arrange for her to have a bodyguard of her choosing and eyes on her every second she was outside of the university at the beach. The school and her lab electronically scrambled her whereabouts and housed her in a secret underground facility known only to four people she trusted. The silence and serenity lasted a total of two weeks before slicers found her devices. The school rotated encrypted devices with her every week afterward.
However, what made her soar so fast in the collegiate system besides her Athena-like beauty and Einstein-like brains? Two words―Mandelbrot Set―
Some scientists claim that Doctor Reynedropolous used more of her brain mass than any other being on the planet, including Pseudosynths, who used almost twenty percent. After several thorough examinations and an MRI of her grey mass, it was concluded that Apocrypha actually used thirty-three percent of her brain compared to an average human who used somewhere around ten percent. Some who studied her work say that her birth mother ingesting large amounts of the drug DMT for years intensified what some called “an autistic-type brilliant mind when it came to numerical equations.” Apocrypha could open up more of her brain’s atoms and switch synapses between neurons one-billion times faster than a typical human being switches. Apocrypha could “see” numbers and fractals in her head wherever she looked. Millions of calculations, equations, floating geometry all in front of her vision and some even haunted her dreams. It was both a curse and a blessing. Slowing the alphanumeric daydreams and nightmares was another challenge. Apocrypha began micro dosing herself with a secret concoction of drugs, including DMT and LSD. It would put her in a euphoric state, but she was at least able to rid herself of her curse for a couple of hours a day. Like anything significant in life, you have to take the bad with the good.
Where no one else saw it, she could also see the end of the Mandelbrot Set, the purpose of infinity itself. The Mandelbrot Set named after Benoît Mandelbrot who was a Polish-French-American mathematician is infinite and never-ending. No new detail ever appears; nothing changes and the same pattern repeats over and over, or for some fractals, nearly the same pattern repeats―forever. There are many variations of the Mandelbrot set, such as Multibrot, Buddhabrot, and Nebulabrot. Doctor Reynedropolous found a way to use these fractals to increase the size of calculations and equations thus decreasing the number of exponents needed in a given formula. This led to new and exciting discoveries in mathematics, artificial intelligence, processors, hardware, software, and robotic applications.
Her major breakthrough in folding the fractal sets into a finite loop threw Moore’s Law out of the window when it came to the rule of computer hardware and processors. Moore’s Law, named after Intel co-founder Gordon Moore who stated that the number of transistors on integrated circuits would double every two years. It averaged about eighteen months to be more precise. Now, Doctor Reynedropolous’ discovery would allow manufacturers of processors and microchips to blast a new doorway into the future setting new records of Zettabyte (sextillion) transistors in one component doubling every couple of months. This in itself paved the way for more hardware in smaller spaces, less coding taking up less memory, and more substantial and self-aware artificial intelligence.
“I am famous because I am intelligent and have something important to give back to humanity. Since you don’t understand these ideas, I welcome you to kiss my hairy Greek ass with or without the thong.” ― Doctor Apocrypha Reynedropolous Ph.D. message to the paparazzi.
All of this newfound publicity and wealth made the mathematician and scientific rock star Doctor Apocrypha Reynedropolous Ph.D., a wealthy and sought-after woman. Her picture suddenly appeared on the cover of every magazine available to every device on planet earth. The paparazzi and their drones found and followed her twenty-four hours a day. She had not one ounce of shame nor inhibitions giving them what they wanted stripping nude on the Icelandic beaches stretching her bronze glistening toned body, bending over as often as possible to provide them with the best shots. The most intelligent woman on the planet would perform what the greedily eyed reporters called “nothing less than porno shows.” She knew they weren’t brazen enough to show any of her voyeuristic videos to the public. More often than not, Sam, her bodyguard, just chuckled, shaking his head sitting in a chair reading Guns N Ammo magazines as she gave peep shows for the drones. Once she slid her thong bottom off and used it as a slingshot filled with lava rocks knocking a smoking drone out of the sky to the icy depths of the ocean.
Catching drones on several occasions, she gave them an up-close play-by-play of her sexy tattoos. This drained their batteries down until there was a pile of worn-out drones sitting next to her. She would lick the drone’s lenses, dirtying them up until they were no longer able to focus or record. Other times she would perform nude yoga for their enjoyment. After a while, the voyeurs grew tired of her antics, and they became bored with her just as she had anticipated. The only ones not bored were teenage boys and girls who could not get enough of their fantasy pin-up girl. Millions of posters of her posing in different positions sold worldwide, passing up the sales of Farrah Fawcett’s famous red swimsuit print in less than a week.
When she isn’t working, she loves practicing Krav Maga, an Israeli martial arts program, not for the timid or short of breath with her instructor. Getting high on the beach with the crisp rays of sunlight tickling the sun-bleached hairs on her body was an after workout sport. Apocrypha perfected the art of knowing exactly how many meds to take and for how long in her leisure time. She calculated these pharmaceuticals with her own equations that included her weight, shots of whiskey, ambient temperature, humidity, and smoking.
Puffing on exactly three cigars per day, her Pseudosynth partner in crime was her confidential contact in Cuba who fed her many fetishes when they could meet. These two were faithful to each other and hid their rendezvous with cryptic codes and variations of the numbers 102 all over the planet. They made a scavenger hunt out of it searching for each other. When they finally did find one another, the pitch was so fevered they would not leave a hotel room for days. Both had hidden tattoos on the bottom of the arches of their feet dedicated to each other’s badassness. The names were Eris and Dysnomia, which are both Greek Goddesses associated with lawlessness. Apocrypha herself named fittingly after a Greek word meaning hidden or secret.
The University of Iceland could care less about what she did at the beach and were amused at her attempts to turn the tables on the paparazzi. They had Apocrypha in their possession, which brought in millions of dollars in grants and students. The faculty and staff knew her current project was going to be huge. Creating accurate predictions for the unpredictable “Chaos Theory” and the “Butterfly Effect” was something she could see becoming a reality in the near future. This would change humanity forever if this ever came to fruition. You might as well have a crystal ball that actually works. That is a helluva lot of power wielded by someone or something. For this significant feat, she planned to start a “think tank” in Iceland, inviting only the smartest and brightest open minds. There was just one problem. She would never make it off the beach on this sunny, windy, and crisp day.
This is just ONE image out of infinite fractals of a Mandelbrot Set. Some DMT and a little Pink Floyd music, and we are on our way―Click on the image for a demonstration of this fantastic mathematical anomaly.
Instinctively, Doctor Reynedropolous’ bodyguard Sam Denton pulled his silver firearm out of its holster under his left armpit and cocked the slide. The ground under both of them, black lava rocks with a hot spring underneath, caused steam to funnel out of widening cracks and evaporate fifty-feet into the cold air as the earth shook. Trying to put her top on unsuccessfully, Apocrypha stood up and fell over as the ground split and rumbled. Sam caught her in mid-fall, wrapping her beach towel around her muscular shoulders and tanned breasts. The lava ground together under their feet as something shiny and black began protruding up from the blue and dark ocean just feet away from them. Miles from anyone or anything near Gardur on the southern tip of Iceland, Sam told Apocrypha to stay still, and he would run and get the Cruiser about a half a mile away. Now in a panic, Apocrypha agreed as she gathered up her notes, journals, briefcase, and bottle of whiskey. A large black oblong steel tower with an antenna on top of it rose up out of the ocean blocking out the crisp sunshine. Cold salty water splashed all over Apocrypha and her belongings. Pissed off now and nervous for her own safety, she put her bikini top on under the towel. Shielding the sun from the shiny object with her right hand over her eyes, a lid rotated off the top of the object that she now assumed was a submarine. A bearded man popped his head out.
“Are you Doctor Reynedropolous?” the man with a Scottish accent shouted to a confused Apocrypha down on the beach.
“Why, who is asking you asshat?”
The man pointed an object at her and nodded to someone below. “Our facial recognition software tells us that you are Doctor Reynedropolous.”
“So what if I am, asshole. What the fuck is this all about?” she asked angrily.
The man aimed a gun at her thirty-feet below him and pulled the trigger. A dart hit her in the stomach. “Our client would like a meeting with you.”
“Make an appointment like normal people do you asshole. Just what the fuck do you think you are doing? Who are you?” she screamed, turning fifty shades of red.
Pulling the barbed dart out of her washboard abdomen, she yelled for Sam as she heard the Cruiser pull up behind her. Blood trickled down her front onto her white bikini bottom. Sam jumped out of the vehicle with wide eyes and open mouth, staring at the submarine conning tower as Apocrypha fell limp on top of steaming hot lava rocks. Without thinking, he ran for her. It was his job to protect her, his only job. A dart hit him in the shoulder. He kept running for her. Another dart hit him in the neck. He slowed as he staggered towards her. Another dart hit him in the thigh. Sam staggered toppling over on a sandy portion of the beach face-first, smacking small rocks inches from her feet. A steel ladder lowered down to the beach as six men dressed in black uniforms scooped up Apocrypha and all of her belongings. They gently lowered her sleeping body down inside of the submarine. As fast as the giant beast had risen up, it submerged and disappeared into the dark salty abyss.