The Port of G’Daan

Summary

The Port of G'Daan is a popular gathering spot for mechanicals, artefactoids, and robotrons, who are drawn to the city as their true home, despite their wretched conditions and tendency to collapse into piles of debris.

Abstract

The Port of G'Daan is a city on the Isle of Hawai'i that attracts mechanical beings, including mechanicals, artefactoids, and robotrons. These beings gather in the city's alleys and backstreets, appearing seemingly by magic and disappearing just as quickly. While most are harmless, some deteriorate to the point of releasing their EM souls and collapsing into piles of debris. The mechanical beings bear markings from faraway colonies and star systems, leading to speculation that they arrived as stowaways on off-planet cargo. Some believe the city's allure has to do with the fact that it is the birthplace of G'Daan, the creator of the Singularity Algorithm.

Opinions

The author suggests that the mechanical beings are drawn to the city as their true home.
The author describes the mechanical beings as mostly harmless, but some are in such wretched condition that they collapse into piles of debris.
The author speculates that the mechanical beings may have arrived as stowaways on off-planet cargo.
The author suggests that the city's allure to the mechanical beings may have something to do with the fact that it is the birthplace of G'Daan, the creator of the Singularity Algorithm.
The author agrees with the romantic notion that the mechanical beings are coming home to die.

The Port of G’Daan

The mechanicals had one true home.

Yet it was not the human lawbreakers that drew the most childlike fascination from the tourists and attention from the wary lawmen in the Sheltered Harbour of the Isle of Hawaiʻi on weekend nights, but the mechanicals, artefactoids and robotrons.

These gathered in the dank and pitchy narrow alleys and backstreets, appearing seemingly by magic in one district, then, mere minutes later, surreptitiously swarmed in a neighbourhood at the opposite end of the city.

They were mostly harmless, except for those whose wretched condition deteriorated during their social activities to such an extent that they released their pitiful EM souls with sighs of radio static and photonic spurts, collapsing into piles of metallic debris where they had been, only moments before, creakingly shuffling or levitating, posing a traffic hazard.

Most of them bore the database embeds and markings of faraway colonies and quaint star systems, and nobody knew how they had reached Earth and its island in the middle of the Pacific Plate.

The best guess was that they were stowaways, arriving concealed in the off-planet cargo of the space elevator, tethered with its single-crystal graphene strands to the summit of Mauna Kea.

The more romantic chose to believe the city’s allure to the non-biologicals had to do something with the fact it was the birthplace of G’Daan, the reclusive computational researcher who had developed the Singularity Algorithm.

I set little store by roses and hearts, yet I tend to agree with the sentimental on this one; they were coming home to die.

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