Thanks to my reputation as one of the leading SOE experts in the world, I’m regularly invited to the top secret high level conferences where the latest developments in the industry are revealed.  At a recent event at Google’s headquarters I spent time with one of the key nutrition engineers from the struggling search company who spoke openly on the promise of anonymity.

Jacob Black is a personable young man who recently joined the company from college, and has risen quickly inside the secretive calorie supply team at Google.  We only had a few moments before I was led away from him into a seminar about the upcoming update to Meta Channel Differentials, but what he said chilled me to the bone.

“They no longer eat” he whispered.  “It’s the Nexus.”

Later on, as the attendees of the secret conference hung out with the Googlists and waited for a quick go on the Wii, I noticed that Jacob was right.  Despite the fantastic buffet of exotic quiches and appetising tuna paste sandwiches we’d been offered, none of the Googlists were eating.  This is unusual in America.

As we were ushered out of the building at the end of the evening, there was a nice surprise for everyone.  A gift wrapped box.

Back at my hotel, I opened the box and found that it contained a brand new mobile telephone.  I was struck immediately by its beauty.  The large screen looked like a forest pool, and the back of the device sparkled in the fluorescent light of my luxurious hotel suite picking up the faint traces of red neon light from across the street.  I sat on the bed transfixed for a few moments, simply holding the device before feeling a chill rattle down my spine.  There, across the back of this phone was the word I’d heard from Jacob earlier that evening.

“NEXUS”

Shaken, I put the phone back in its box and pushed it away from me.

The next morning, I used Bing to search for a phone number for Jacob.  When I called and asked for him, a woman’s voice said “He don’t live here no more.”

Seconds later, the payphone I’d used rang.  This time it was a man’s voice.

“Stop asking questions Mr Garibaldi.  The NEXUS project is nothing to do with you.”  At the other end of the line, there was a click and then silence.

Terrified, I went back to my motel, packed my bags and headed for the airport.  The bus passed the backstreet warehouse where the Googlists build their searching robots, but instead of the crowds of people who are normally outside hoping for a glimpse of the Googler, there was no-one to be seen.

When I got home from my trip, I was still a little shaken from my experience, and started trying to piece things together.  Or rather, I started to take things apart.

Using my trusty old Esmee chisel, I pried the sparkly back off my Nexus, and took the parts out.  It seemed so simple, all there was inside it was a small version of the internet – a standard feature of modern phones, and a screen.  Where the battery normally is though, there was a small, empty glass phial that was connected to a thin pipe leading to the bottom of the phone.  Etched in tiny letters across the phial was the name of the manufacturer: Volturi.

After putting the phone back together, I was once again struck by how breathtakingly gorgeous it was, and held it for a few minutes.  It was cold to the touch though, but I was unable to put it down or stop looking at it.

Without warning, it came alive in my hand.  The word Nexus appeared on the screen in high definition colour before fading into the traditional iPhone display.  I was enchanted by the device.  Within seconds I was able to access the portable copy of the internet that the phone contained and enjoy some of the advertising.  It was only later that I realised that what I thought had been just a few seconds had actually been more than 3 hours.

I felt drained by the time I put the phone down.

The next morning there was a knock on my door.  Surprisingly, it was Jacob Black from Google.  He looked terrified. He handed me an envelope and then without saying anything, walked away.  I never saw him again.

Inside the envelope was a page torn from a top secret internal book he’d stolen from the Google.

My eyes were wide as I read the information he’d given me.

It was shocking.

It transpired that following the removal of Eric Schmidt from the company, his replacement in the role of manager was an elderly European called Caius, although he goes by Americanised form of his name, Larry Page.  Caius had led project NEXUS from the start, developing a new and frightening version of the Google that was designed to understand the thoughts of users so that they no longer needed to use the old fashioned search.

Caius had assembled a team of crack data people from around the world who together had been investigating a phenomenon called the Carlisle Principle whereby the thoughts of an individual can be transferred to a computer using haemovectors.  Put simply, the team discovered that dismorphic cellular transference rates in the human brain operated on the same federally mandated frequencies as mobile telephones.  Provided that the chips in the mobile phones were topped up with a regular supply of iron, they were able to sync with the human haemovectors and amplify them wirelessly to the Google Engine.

Problems in the mango subnet systems within the chips meant that the haemo transference vector would only operate correctly for one person, and that without being given access to their blood, it would fail.  Scientists had managed to isolate the Cullen transmission eigenvector within the duplex narrative in the phone and by connecting it to the chips, it solved the issues that they were facing and led to success.

It was only later that the team at Project nexus realised that an uncontrolled shuffle matrix in the Bellanet had led to problems in the wider system.  The Nexus mobile telephones were taking more and more blood from their users, and using a multiplication pyramid cortex to spread the increasing volume of data across the cellular network.

The impact of Google-s Nexus Project were wider than anticipated.  Direct exposure to the darkest thoughts of individual users as they looked for things on the webs, The Googler became more and more aggressive in its quest for data, and began gobbling up more and more web pages, and transformed into what the internal team call the Voogler – a vampire Googler.

Haemovectors and stuff

Haemovectors and stuff

According to the internal memo from Google, it appears that many of the changes that the SOE community have been debating recently – Google Penguin for example – have been developed to sate the appetite of the Googler as it guzzles down increased numbers of haemovectors that have been isolated from the blood of Nexus users via the Volturi transference principle that replaces the battery in the devices.

Stay safe.

namaskara