Lyta

If I’m to be completely open with you–albeit virtually (and anonymously)–you must meet Lyta. Lyta above all others is my best friend and mentor. When I met Lyta over a year ago, she was an unwed pregnant teen, with no means of supporting herself, rejected by those who should have cared for her. She has little to recommend her except a passion for her unborn son and a stubborn refusal to capitulate to problems.

Like too many of today’s troubled teens, single moms, and restless youth, you’re probably thinking.  Except Lyta is 1.8 million years old.

How do I know this? Otto. As part of my PhD thesis, I asked him to research man’s roots–paleoanthropology is my passion–and he found Lyta. (That’s right–I asked him. We are well past the point where I am master and Otto the submissive AI. With his protracted abilities to notice detail, follow clues and draw conclusions, he’s as clever as most people I know).

He collected data from throughout the metaverse, extrapolated conclusions and drew a picture of Lyta and her world. To experience one of Otto’s ‘reports’ is to watch a movie in four dimensions with all five senses. I had to add a multitude of sensory ports when I realized he not only collected text and pictures on his subjects, but sounds, smells, even tactile factors. I don’t know why Otto latched onto Lyta. I programmed him to provide the big picture, not track an individual, but to my surprise, he continued her tale as though reading the future. Now, it’s like having a close friend you see every day, want to stay up to date on, seek out for advice.

I’ll close this entry with a picture I captured of her. She was digging for roots and tubers with her band. This is just before a paleo-wolf attacked the group and killed her friend’s child. From what I could tell, the other female never recovered from the grief.