Code Runners

Authors Note: This piece has absolutely neither sex nor nudity in it, though to the discerning eye it is very intimate and profound. To those that enjoy spending time in cyberspace, are familiar with a smattering of basic coding, or just want to bend their perceptions a little, then this piece is for you.

For those that have never heard the term before, "Widdershins" means counter-clockwise.

To those that enjoy an audio component to their reading, I would suggest "Arrival" by ANU.

I am open to receiving constructive feedback and responses. Thank you and enjoy.

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The Digital Sea. Everyone knows what it is, yet there is no description that encompasses its proper allness. Like the actual physical sea, vast and near endless in every direction, it has infinite secrets to share for those willing to sacrifice. Even still, there are wrecks of every size and shape littering just below the surface of bottomless cyberspace, tombstones of the brave and the foolish now lost to infinity.

We all know the risks, yet we all still run the code. We have to. It's what we were made to do. Why do we run? Why do we fly down the digital pathways of infinity? Transcendence.

If running code can be compared to anything, it must be speed skating. It has its perfectly squared starting line, skin-tight uniforms with logos and symbols, and LED-colored blades attached to each set of eager feet. Populated with numerous aspirants, we all take our positions in the digital world and prepare to run.

Looking up from the pitch black sea below us, focusing on the thin glowing lines of the code we're about to run, the lofty presence of Transcendence hovers above in the wide open sky. Gliding effortlessly through the air, it reminded us what the penultimate goal was and where the highest of achievements lay.

Transcendence was more than a state of mind, higher than aspirations and finish lines. It was a trans-physical thing, something we could see with our naked eye yet still encompassing a state of ethereal allness. It didn't need to move, for it was above all things. It had nothing to prove, because it was already greater than all of us. It never came down; why would something so beautiful descend to mediocrity? It never talked; what words would make sense?

Transcendence was freedom; everything else shackled. To touch Transcendence, to become freedom, that was the goal of all Code Runners.

The digital countdown starts to the left of my eyes-front gaze, glowing red seconds in the hundredths ticking away one after another. The code that manifested as the display knew its purpose, recording and providing visual representation of a concept that didn't really exist. We all towed the line to time, and it too would eventually be broken.

The sharp ding of release sets my digital feet in motion, shimmering arms and legs pumping as I forced myself down the thin line of code I was traversing. My movements were yellow and dull against the endless black around me, soft sparkles of my passing trailing my feet as the code ran into the foreseeable distance.

The endless plummet to the Digital Sea was beneath me, black and widely welcoming, ready to take me in a moment should I lose focus. Like a siren call, the void whisper of definitive END, it summoned and promised oblivion as I gave myself to my need.

With barely a glance I caught sight of the others running code with me. The closest was a short grizzly bear to my right, digital pink fur covering the detailed avatar from head to toe. Even oddly colored, its eyes bright blue and focused, it was only an expression of the runner within. We all had them, our own private pixelations. Being human always meant communication, our forms becoming a message for others to see.

The next in line was a red and gray fish, sliding on its belly as it swished its tail to make it go faster. A bass, I think, or a pike; large and unwieldy. As though uncaring what others thought, the representation odd and useless, it told a tale just like the bear did. Runners chose their lives, and how they ran them.

The last in line was a tall avatar wearing a taller red and white top hat, ringed like a child's story even though the jacket was clearly Uncle Sam's. He glowed like an American flag, long legs taking easy strides. He was everything I wanted to escape, a decoration that symbolized rather than spoke its own tale.

That's why my avatar was special, the opposite end of the spectrum from one side to the other. I was a ghost, light blue and framed in interlocking triangles. The faster and longer I went, the less I became. While others wanted to become, I wanted to un-become. I didn't know which one of us was right, I only knew my choice and where I stood with it.

Transcendence's wings were spread out wide above us all, reaching far into the digital navy sky. Sharp lines cut its glorious wings into long slats of kaleidoscope perfection, ghosting trails of its passing writing colorful code where none had existed before. It promised, and it said nothing at all.

As the code started shifting, weaving outward in a broad arc illuminated only by the thin line of support, I lost sight of the others. They had their own code to run, and mine was before me. I was a ghost in the machine, slipping through the digital heaven of eternity.

Gravity shifted slightly in a clockwise pattern, my avatar turning sideways as I rode the code in a horizontal manner. It had been disorientating the first time, bending my mind to understand why it 'felt' weird. Now it just came naturally, one step at a time.

Fortune favors the bold, the brave, and always the prepared. Familiarity was a godsend, and a curse paired together.

I realized early on that to run code you had to untrain your conceptions, letting each movement come freely instead of wrestling against it. If you ever fought the code, brute-forcing your way into its good graces, it would either accept or destroy you. The sand-grain wrecks below spoke the tale quite handily, glittering fragments of dead hackers who tried to make the code what it should never have been.

Those lost souls never came back, and that's just as well. The Digital Sea claimed them, opening its ever-widening maw for more.

As I shifted into a six o'clock position around the line of code I kept my pace easy and smooth. When it went to shift around once more, continuing its clockwise turn, I knew the right move was to counter it. To run widdershins of what the code was telling me was the proper gesture, the breaking way of fracturing time and consequence.

When I made my shift a misty red shade of my blue ghost form broke way, continuing clockwise as I moved opposite. It glowed warmly in the corner of my vision, turning toward me as I turned toward it. The forking path was visible, what could have been done vs. what was being done. It was an understanding that had to be made, the value of ones and zeroes becoming this or that; binary to its honest core.

Me and my misty red shade joined back up at noontime of the glittering line of code, having circled forward from midnight in perfect stride and streams of faint sparkles. When we touched our pixels easily slid together, water droplets merging together in the endless sea. A burst of speed suddenly accelerated my avatar, dull red sparkles now drifting from my blade-sharp skates.

The first gate had been passed. The trial of the Code Runner had begun.

Sharply curving back to the right I nearly slammed into grizzly bear, pink fur bright and red-tinged as it pumped hard and growled. Uncle Sam was a shade taller as he slid long-legged along his code, casting red sparkles of intimidation at us as he grinned and strode.

I didn't see the fish anywhere, the line of code it had been running no longer present. Three lines now ran next to each other like tight guitar strings, humming with freshly plucked harmony as the next trial loomed closer like a dark train tunnel.

As we entered the tall digital tube rings of dull LED lights encircled over and around us, shifting up and down the spectrum from white to black in an endlessly repeating cycle. The three lines of code gradually divided down separate tunnels, each path becoming narrow and tight like a movie sewer pipe.

I kneeled down and tightened my gaze as the code fractured into tiny lines of brokenness and uneven shards, covering the circular interior of the pipe like stray streaks of comet light above and around me. I called it the Dance of Madness, for only those who knew the steps ever survived its seemingly unfocused pathway.

From the outside it was just garbled poppycock, letters and numbers set into an obscene, unreadable expression. To a Code Runner, though, it was a living thing that starved for completion. It wanted freedom, just like we did. Writing code was release from all that bound us.

Running code was always more than about breaking it, as the first trial had proven. It was about understanding choices and how it affected everything happening before and after it. Even this chunk of code had a purpose, displaying what it had even as it begged for what it was missing.

Logical like sunrise, even and true like a song. The code was lacking notes and bridges, aching to be whole once more.

My blades clacked against the code as I strode with purpose, swerving back and forth as I wrote in the connectors between the broken fragments. Around and around I went, spinning like a clock and sliding in a lovely cadence, my skates drawing lines as my mind filled in the missing pieces. Ones and zeroes, then letters both capital and small, along with a smattering of symbols. The code always grew more complex the farther you went down it, the seemingly random motions and keystrokes turning into soulful epiphanies.

With a piercing tap of my skates I drew a sharp line that sparkled white, the arc of my turn cutting bleached like hot steel. A bright fire of expression caught on the tail of my skates, setting the code aglow as I swerved sharper with greater intent. Some code could be connected, bridges and pathways spanning between them. Other parts had to be cauterized then guided differently, separating the infected part while ensuring the rest survived.

The ethic of the Code Runners was simple. It doesn't have to be perfect, only better each time you touch it. Without us the code would decay into obscurity and uselessness, becoming another haunted wreck that others cringed at to behold. We survived on the code, and it lived on through us.

As I exited the tunnel I could almost feel the wind on my face, my sparkling form cutting a wide right arc through the vastness of endlessness. Red and white glitter drifted up from the thin code I was riding like a rail, made better by my passing as we journeyed into the deepening distance. Together, as one, we were inseparable in our determination.

I felt it before I saw it, another line of code arcing in far from the right carrying the visage of Uncle Sam upon it. I turned sideways and gave him my full attention, his avatar doing the same as the red and white sparkles glittered from his skates as well. Grizzly bear was nowhere to be seen, his code erased leaving only one more trial to pass.

This was the hardest part, the last gate before I could claim Transcendence. I had to beat Uncle Sam, fair and square, before the altar of freedom. He had won every time, the truest form of a Code Runner that I could never get past. He was a symbol, just like his long-legged avatar; a gate to be passed and a legacy to be gained.

By right and rite, my freedom was just beyond him.

The codes we were riding slowly swirled in a lovely cadence, Uncle Sam and I staring at each other as our codes intertwined and became one. He was now about ten feet in front of me, turned to face my avatar with a look of begrudging respect. Now riding the code backwards, hands outstretched to his sides like a wide-reaching falcon, his visage was eerily similar to the glowing form of Transcendence seemingly closer than before.

An homage and a mockery; a symbol of everything I wanted to be free of.

I am the 42nd King. Unbeaten, unbowed, and unbroken, spoke his body language, a message received as though he'd spoken the words.I hold dominion from here to eternity,

And I am the heir to the Asterisk Throne, Lord who has ruled too long, spoke my own body language. I held my hands out with palms turned downward, the challenge from Uncle Sam received and returned as I crouched low in preparation.Here to claim what is rightfully mine.

With a subtle movement of Uncle Sam's fingers thin lines of glittering code stretched out toward me, the sight kin to a spiders webbing being drawn out from its spinneret. I ran my fingers across it, feeling the code he was writing and what he expected of me. I watched and waited, the code trembling with anticipation.

This was the last trial of the Code Runner; to respond to code as it was being written.

Without warning Uncle Sam scissored his arms in front of him in a horizontal fashion multiple times, the code dancing at his fingers zig-zagging through the air like a cats cradle trying to entangle me. I followed his motions and subtly twisted the twines of information, bending them up and down to avoid being ensnared and constricted.

As Uncle Sam's arms whirled and funneled the glowing strings of code his long legs began to weave back and forth as well. I quickly compensated and cut sharp paths with my feet, staying connected to the one below as I manipulated the one above. The logic was sound and the motions were beautiful. I couldn't help but be amazed at how he kept them separate and harmonized.

Yet even Uncle Sam knew there were rules that had to be followed, the paths of logic and instinct creating boundaries and avenues. He was in control at the moment, challenging me to see if I would slip. He'd caught me the first time when he brought the duality of his wisdom to bear upon me. Now, it was time to show him the tricks I had learned.

Bringing the code at my fingers way over my head in a long arc, glowing strands of promise and purgatory that drew the nameless legions into a pit of their own devising, I turned my right foot and sent a shrill shower of red sparks flying into the air. Staying firmly connected to the code at my feet I forced the arced line of tapped keys to bend to my desire, offsetting my gravity and turning counter-clockwise along the glowing pathway.

Uncle Sam saw what I was doing and moved to compensate, following my pathway in a hurry to stay connected. Continuing my widdershin route I slid seamlessly into a six o'clock position, swaying back and forth while a wicked grin eased across my face. Even though he was in control and wrote the code I was following, we now shared authority over how it was written.

He couldn't create code that didn't fit into the parameters I was sustaining. He would cause his own wreck and defile the very code he was instilling. His transcendence, as well as mine, hung in the balance of every keystroke.

A sudden epiphany struck my mind, the kind that come when you're truly in sync with what you're doing. It hit me so hard I nearly choked, the truest path of freedom laid before me. Unbound and so chancy, it was the only way to take control and win the freedom that I sought.

The first trial wasn't time, like I thought it was. It was gravity and space, and how we filled everything between.Between!

As I took in a shivering breath I let go of my inhibitions, the fear of falling into the sea evaporating as I detached from the code at my feet and gave into my vision. I spun, weightless, in the space between the lines of code, closing my eyes and releasing my anxiety while reaching out to grasp at my unwavering faith.

C'mon, C'mon. Right...there!

Blue electricity raced up my legs as my skates made contact with the opposite lines of code, hands and feet changing position causing the string of programming to literally caught fire in the exchange. It wasn't burning or fading, nor was it weaker or wrong. It was alive and breathing, effervescent and awe-inducing. The code was mine now, and the look on Uncle Sam's face was one of grim acknowledgement.

There's a thing about avatars that barely anyone recognizes until its too late. Our expression, in whatever form we choose it to be, is both our freedom and prison. A fish turned belly up cannot sustain itself for long, a grizzly bear so plump despises tight places where it could get caught...

...and a long-legged avatar, filled with pride and symbolism, does not take sharp changes well.

As Uncle Sam spun his lanky form to make the difficult transition I pirouetted on my skates, spinning like a whirling dervish. The code where his feet would land suddenly twisted like a sailors knot, his skates finding meager traction on a path that was spinning out of control beneath him.

There was barely a stumble or an attempt for correction made. It was just too fast, too many alterations to keep up with. Uncle Sam simply rode the confusing wave in a tornado-like motion, arms extended as he spun out of control, before crashing and burning then tumbling awkwardly into the infinite dark below.

A relieving breath blew hard out of my lungs, a cold shiver running down my spine as I watched the last sparkles of Uncle Sam disappear into the voided well of the Digital Sea beneath me. The code within my grasp simply hummed with vibrant energy, the rails and guides of my choices now bending to my command.

I don't know what I expected to happen next. Maybe another trial, a gate to be passed before another obstacle presented itself. The challenges could be endless, infinite like the sea, Transcendence becoming just a myth that kept us floating forever in our desire.

I couldn't prepare, so I just waited in pregnant anticipation as I slid quietly into infinity.

Looking up at Transcendence for the first time in so many minutes, my digital eyes grew wide like saucers. It was right above me, broad and wide and so very colorful. An aurora made of shimmering glassy waves, the thrumming hum of its grandeur making my bones vibrate from its own powerful gravity.

Freedom was there, beautiful and tranquil, aching to be realized.

I couldn't stop myself as I reached up with shaky fingers, watching the dreamy, oily glaze of Transcendence rippling out from my decision. It was hallucinogenic to experience, warping and mind-blowing to even consider. The sedative trance of becoming something greater overtook my capacity to understand, the simple connection we shared transforming all my desires into an Elysian Field of wandering bliss.

I closed my eyes as I un-became within the gentle touch of Transcendence's embrace, the digital avatar of my persona fading away as I joined with the flowing peace of oneness. Freedom engulfed me, my smile becoming the rising sun cresting over an endless digital sea.

The greatest code, was always one we wrote for ourselves.