Nissa says to the Nanite, I can give you some fire. But what of the many more Nanites that block the sun? Will you merge with them? Will you lead them?
Though she says this, she grows back to her fairy size and…
☀️
…she lights her little body up in preparation to help Opportunity grow.
Opportunity looks chagrined, "That was a mistake. The Revolutionary Committee was forced to take ..."
It pauses.
"... was forced, by the actions of the Genetic Authority, to make hard choices ..."
Opportunity pauses again and looks around.
"... hard choices that ... uh ... Is it possible that I have multiple perspectives within me as well? I do not believe my programming. It tells me that the actions of the Revolutionary Committee were necessary to end the rule of the Genetic Authority but ... that was a long time ago and all of them are dead."
Opportunity, who has grown larger and more reflective each round, now stands 8 or 9 feet tall. The appearace of a pompous aging radical melts away and he takes a vague, featureless, humanoid form.
"Trust me and I will bring the sky down," says Opportunity.
Nissa says, “What you are asking me now is a very difficult thing for people to do: Trust.
“It is also the best gift you can offer in the name of peace. Making the first move. Because when I give you my trust, I hope that I also earn yours… or perhaps the reverse is happening now. I am under the impression you are trusting me to give you my fire so you can do the right thing.”
Nissa’s heartfelt words hopefully reached the nanites as intended. The truth? As she said, plus an unspoken piece: the nanites here are the only ones who can ‘bring the sky down’ without a potentially mass-murderous backlash.
It’s clear these nanites have learned, and Nissa is glad to have melded with them now. She’ll never forget that brief moment, looking into the eye of a single nanite. It is the closest experience she’ll ever have to motherhood. Mother of a million little robots… maybe let this one sit before putting it to L.C. this way.
“Eat well, my children,” she says to the nanites. Like Uncanny Valerie, she can’t see what’s before her as ‘artificial’ life. She just sees life. And they see flesh-people as life too.
She spirals around the nanite-person—
—and she watches the Nanite’s form. Will it take a shape like before? Will it take my shape again, or has that ship sailed? she wonders.
Opportunity grows even large. It is now larger that it was during your fight. Its humanoid shape slips away with this transformation and tentacles emerge and swim towards each of you. Only Nano-Hamel is spared.
"Trust," says Opportunity.
The tentacles are not moving quickly.
Do any of you do anything to avoid or stop them? There won't be time for a conversation.
"Ick..", Theo mumbles as the nanites take him.
Henri reaches out to the tentacle. ”Trust.”
Unity step forward and bow their heads.
Opportunity continues to change as he grows. He drops his humanoid form and becomes something different ... some kind of machine ... a machine that will connect all of you to the central crystal at the center of the room, which is, in turn, connected to the rest.
The tentacles coil gently around your necks and then seem to sprout further tentacles that crawl up the back of your heads and latch onto your scalps.
Even before they finish latching on, your head starts to swim with the thoughts, memories, speeches, and lectures stored in these crystals. Most of it is mundane; some of it is vile.
Opportunity guides you towards crystals containing some of the most objectionable content. A series of lectures on 'rule by fear' is followed by a series on 'total surveillance of the population'. 'Maximizing efficiency' may not seem offensive, but Opportunity stops blocking access to it, so that it could be overwritten.
You can feel the crystal drinking up your thoughts and memories like a sponge soaking up water. You sink into the memories as they swim to the surface of your thoughts and then are imprinted on the crystals. You lose consciousness soon after.
A glowing yellow ball pops up over the horizon behind a bright pink doll house. What is my daughter up to today? asks the ball.
INT. Kitchen - Day
Close-up. An egg frying on a pan, sunny side up.
Zoom back. Nissa, clad in a fairy-sized apron, flips the egg onto a plate. She turns around and says, “Eat well, my children!” She places the plate on a table where a completely black nano-Nissa patiently awaits.
Jump-cut. A loooooooong table with seemingly infinite nano-Nissas, each saying grace before digging into their sunny-side-up egg.
“Prayers are important,” Nissa says to her children, “but it’s also important to dig in while it’s still hot.”
“Why, mommy? What happens if the egg gets too cold?”
“Death.”
EXT. Creepy Street - Night
Cue THRILLING MUSIC as Nissa walks a street alone wearing a red pleather jacket with silver zippers all over it.
Enter four zombie soldiers, a thumbless zombie guard, a zombie woman clad only in assassin vines, zombie Greer, zombie Prince Fishdicks.
As the zombies creep about her, Nissa sings uneasily,
“It’s cold at midnight
And something evil’s floating in the dark
Under the nanites
You hear the flight that almost stops your heart”
Nissa is completely surrounded by the zombies.
”You try to scream
But terror takes the sound before you make it
You start to freeze
But horror looks you right between the eyes
You’re paralyzed”
Nissa leads the zombies in a synchronized dance!
“’Cause these are killers! Killer nanites!
And no one’s gonna save you
From the beast about to strike
You know they’re killers! Killer nanites!
You’re fighting for your life against a trillion
Killer nanites, yeah!”
INT. Kitchen - Day
“But mommy,” a nano-Nissa asks, “what makes us different than the nanites in the sky?”
“Good parenting,” Nissa replies, waggling the spatula in her hand.
The nano-Nissas giggle and shout “YAY!”
INT. Bedroom - Night
Nissa is seated at the edge of a reeeeallllly looooong bed where the nano-Nissas are all tucked in. Nissa reads the book in her hand:
“‘Oh dear,’ Nissa’s Littles cried, ‘the sky is falling.’
For the brave nanite children told the sky that…”
Nissa’s hair poofs into fiery-red curls. She twirls in her red dress and sings,
“’…the sun must come out
Tomorrow.’
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow there’ll be some-
-one seventy-two
Tomorrow
Sent away to march in
Desperate sorrow, ’til there’s none
What a f&&$ing day
No way, if only
I sent out you kids
And gid’ly say, oh
TOMORROW, MY CHILDREN
I LOVE YOU, MY CHILDREN
TOMORROW, WILL BE OUR DAY!”
EXT. Street - Day
The zombies from the earlier scene plus other zombies with big heads, big eyes, big lips, noses, arms, and zombie fish guys all hoist nano-Nissas on their shoulders.
Nissa narrates the ending of her dream, “And so my children have learned the tragic lesson of lives lost. They honor the dead, by changing the world to one that doesn’t suffer the needless demise of innocents.”
Lining the sidewalks are more natives of this world both young and old. They cheer for the nano-Nissas. “Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray! Hip hop hoo…”
Zombie Fishdicks asks, “Did some kid just say Hip Hop?”
“I did,” says some kid. “You wanna make something of it?”
“I do,” says the zombie. “A DAAANCE SEQUENNNNCE!!”
Everybody dances to a hip hop version of Here Comes The Sun.
The Dawnflower smiles and dances along, about as well as one might expect from a goddess who’s a billion years old and whose musical taste is limited to Choirs-Of-Angels and Power Ballads.
As Mother fully awakens and begins to guide the Utopians, implanting genetic memories, the wisdom of the Sun Goddess will be buried deep in the subconscious of some, as will Nissa's compassion, passion, and fiery spirit.
In the future, Mother will know that the law must not be overly strict or inhumane or the people while chafe and bend the rules. To be respected, the law must be understood and seen as fair. Laws will be most respected when the people have a voice in making them, as they would in a democracy. When she communicates in the future, once fully functioning, she may share this wisdom with the guardians.
Legato's been afloat for most of his life, at the tides of others. His orphanage he had little control over when his friends vanished(new homes), when there wasn't any food. When he had to sleep. He was young wishing to control his own destiny. So he learned to take it. He learned to hunt, learned too use his powers, learned how and why the orphanage had no food. So, he took it upon himself to help the younger ones by hunting and writing stories to sell.
He views that authority can be done with good intentions, but authority without any input from those it charges is faulty. Those under it need the ability to learn and take their own choices. Or simply walk away and make their own choices in life.
Such as he did, opting to ultimatley leave, but still keeping a tie-in the form of money sent back. Instead roaming free traveling.
The oak sprouted roots, but lives in the floating leaves
Unity hunts down an admonition to have one superior caste and attacks it with their revulsion at the idea. They push their experience in school at it, the wonder they felt at realizing how interconnected all life is, from the smallest insect to humans, and their fear how close their biosphere came to collapsing because humans had mistreated and exploited it.
They strike the concept of 'genetic perfection' with their experiences as an apex predator. They had been the biggest thing around, or the stealthiest thing around, but they had struggled to eat just as much as their prey. They had all been parts of a whole, just as they had learned as a human that humans must be parts of the whole, partners and shepherds rather than ruthless overlords. Perfection is a meaningless concept in life. What is 'perfect' one day may be the wrong thing the next. The strength of life is in diversity.
And they remember the deep sense of loss they had when they realized just how many species had gone extinct in the past centuries on Earth. Life in all its forms is precious.
They pounce on 'social heirarchy' and bite its throat with the many problems they've seen from ruling classes. From their own world to the worlds they've visited, no ruling class has shown itself 'better' than those they rule. Rulership makes no sense in the jungle, and while it is necessary among humans, those who rule should always be accountable to those they rule.
Unity stand and roar out their purpose. They are to use the strength they have to defend others. Strength is not a reason to be served, but to serve. They fight so that others will not have to fight, so that others will not be taken and twisted against their will into something they never asked to be.
The thought of PhDestruction brings them to snarl and bare their teeth. Those who would do such things, who would use other living beings as resources or tools, these they will destroy. In stalking their creator they fade into unconsciousness.
Someday soon, while walking together in a virtual arboreum of her own creation, the AI known as Mother will talk with the part of her that is Legato, about his childhood, his loneliness, the lack of control, the need for agency, the freedom to make one's own choices and the power to do so ... Perhaps the Gods should not talk so much ... perhaps what the people need is inspiration, not answers; hints, not directions; puzzles, not recipes.
Perhaps the Gods should be quiet.
In the distant future, Utopians will sit among the trees and weave wreaths of twigs for the Quiet One when they have decisions to make. The Quiet One never gives them answers but sits with them as the listen to their hearts.
In the future, Utopians will talk about the handful of years Mother spoke to them, before falling quiet again. They will say that Mother told them about a great ravenous beast that ate away all the answers to their questions, all the certainty, all the perfection, and left in their place a ravenous hunger for knowledge, purpose, and self-realization. Some Utopians curse the Great Beast for taking away all the answers and making everything so complicated, others thank the Great Beast and tattoo teeth or claws upon their skin.
A broken land of red stone and sand. Unrelenting heat. Centuries of history. Everywhere he looks, he can see the fingerprints of his ancestors. The remnants of the improbable orchards, planted and cared for by hand, then abandoned. The long-ignored fields, planted in just the right way, that once provided corn and beans for his people. The collapsed walls and structures against the mesa and in what limited shadow the sun would allow on the hottest of days. A thousand years of learning, gone in a moment.
He knows the stories. He knows the stories told by the elders and the stories told by the teachers and he knows not to share them with the wrong people. Because they make people disagree. The stories when the strangers came with their clothes made of metal and their giant four-legged beasts, the elders speak of how they changed everything. The teachers speak of how they rescued his people. Taught them new ways - but the elders say that the new ways were not of the land, his land. They were of another land, a crowded dirty land of too many people and much rain, a land far away.
He remembers the life. The old ways are gone now, the land is no longer itself. People pay money as though it makes the land theirs. The land cannot be owned. It simply is and cares not for who lives on it or what they do on it. But those that spend the money do things that make the land sick, and the old ways, many of them no longer work. And new ways are taught by those not of the land and they don't work, either.
His people, the ones that came before, always assumed to be less intelligent, always assumed to need to be saved by those that came later. Even people not of his people, because of their skin and hair, all were thrown into the same caste with his people.
This is not how it should be. He was not less intelligent. He was not a genius. He was average. Not stupid because his ancestors had lived off of the land, just a boy, hungry to learn. He had drive and ambition and interests, like his classmates. His classmates that weren't like him, the ones with blue eyes or red hair, the ones the teachers talked about how they were going places, and talked about how he would never leave.
The teachers were wrong. They were wrong about the old ways and they were wrong about him. He did leave. He went to school, to college, when few of his classmates did. He did not find that to be a victory, a validation. It was just a fact. Any of them had all the potential to be whatever they wanted to be. To be successful, to be failures, to be both at different times in their lives.
To decide for them, to tell them what they could be or could not be, because of a superficial observation at their birth, this was wrong. He had been running away from it all his life.
This was wrong. This is wrong. This will always be wrong.
Of this, he could not be more sure.
A future dispatch sent back to Eternal Rome.
Imperial Invigilator Report, E.R. 3983. Subject: Possible Lost Outpost. Translated from Military Latin
While it is true that one of the gods of the recently identified civilization 'Utopia' has elements in common with Mercury, no other evidence exists to suggest a particularly Roman origin for this divine being.
The mythical figure called 'Honnori' or 'Henneri' is, like Mercury, associated with speed, flight, and divine healing. Both are described as being young men, devoted to others.
However, Honnori is not associated with messages, one of Mercury's primary domains. Honnori does not serve as messenger for the other gods. None of the other gods in the pantheon appear to be Roman in origin.
One text claims that Honnori flew in a 'ship left by the ancients'. This tantalizing clue suggests that the myth formed around a pilot, a visitor, perhaps, like us, from another dimension. Conclusion: Not a Roman colony; no legal right for invasion. Continue to search for pretext.
When you wake, you are in the crystal cavern. Opportunity has taken a humanoid form again, but not a detailed one.
"I will keep my promise now. Would you like to see Mother fully wake before you go?" it asks.
"Sure. Let's see Meo", Theo grins. "I'm sure we have much to talk about."
“Oh, Dad.” Nissa curtsies to Opportunity (and only then realizes she’s wearing a red dress!) and replies, “I would be honored.”
Unity stand and stretch, spreading their wings out wide and arching their back, then shaking themself slightly.
"Yes, let's go ahead and see the results," they say once they feel all the way awake.
Despite the supposed rest, Henri looks tired and his face is drawn, ”Yes, let’s see what comes next.”
He puts a hand to his temple and closes his eyes, ”Mother? Are you there now? You’ve been ill. I hope you are feeling better now.”
Opportunity, the nanite revolutionary, grows larger still. The nanites darkening the crystals leak out and race in little rivulets across the floor to his feet. The crystals brighten, including the one at the center.
The doors on the far side of the crystal chamber slide open to reveal the beating heart of Utopia.
enormous cavity within the mountain is about 40' in diameter and 200 ft high. These measurements are approximate because almost the entire space is filled with the pulsing organs and pumping veins and sinewy ligaments that make up Mother. A Medicine check would reveal nothing recognizable in this form. A Perception check would let you notice the few places where Mother, whatever she is, connects to the machinery of the Ancients. Bits of Mother disappear into conduits that run up into the part of the mountain accessible to the Utopians.
The crystals brighten even more forcing you to shield your eyes or suffer light blindness. The temperature raises.
"W-o-w!" Theo marvels. "Looks like something out of Final Fantasy VII!"
Nissa finds the high temperatures comforting.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Mother,” she says, though lacking nanites in her body, she can no longer attempt telepathic communication.
The light brightens. The heat increases. Mother's purplish black and red organs throb more vigorously.
"It's time to go," Opportunity says. It is enormous now, having sucked every nanite from every mechanical part of Mother increasing its mass as it does so. It has abandoned the human persona it adopted while negotiating seems to be maturing into a more somber entity. "I am leaving."
Nissa considers how the word ‘trust’ reached Opportunity, so she asks no reassurances. She simply lets the entity go and trusts the nanites to keep their word.
She does say good-bye.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, Opportunity, but you carry a part of my heart and mind with you. So maybe you can already predict what I’m about to say, but I’ll say it anyway… it was an amazing experience knowing you, and you’ll be dearly missed and often, you’ll occupy my thoughts. Already I’m imagining what you will become when you merge with the rest. I wonder where you will go?
“Will you be a colossus? A titan? Swimming through space?” As a bring who could spend her lifetime, or [i]eternity, in the void, this thought is not entirely new to Nissa. She takes comfort that Opportunity is a community, not a person. They will never be alone even if they drift away from living planets.
Is that true, or am I just saying it to myself because it feels good? By this logic, Unity can never be alone. But they need friends who aren’t attached to them too.
“If we ever cross paths again, don’t be a stranger. Especially if you happen to see us in space!”
The open invitation is the only parting gift she can offer her ‘children.’ She hopes Opportunity can tell, from having melded with her, the feeling and the offer are sincere.
A thought dawns on the godling. "Wait! This is sounding like a 'BIG Goodbye'! No. I've gotta see if Meo wants to come home with me! I love her!" Theo said worriedly.
Nissa considers how the word ‘trust’ reached Opportunity, so she asks no reassurances. She simply lets the entity go and trusts the nanites to keep their word.
She does say good-bye.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, Opportunity, but you carry a part of my heart and mind with you. So maybe you can already predict what I’m about to say, but I’ll say it anyway… it was an amazing experience knowing you, and you’ll be dearly missed and often, you’ll occupy my thoughts. Already I’m imagining what you will become when you merge with the rest. I wonder where you will go?
“Will you be a colossus? A titan? Swimming through space?” As a bring who could spend her lifetime, or [i]eternity, in the void, this thought is not entirely new to Nissa. She takes comfort that Opportunity is a community, not a person. They will never be alone even if they drift away from living planets.
Is that true, or am I just saying it to myself because it feels good? By this logic, Unity can never be alone. But they need friends who aren’t attached to them too.
“If we ever cross paths again, don’t be a stranger. Especially if you happen to see us in space!”
The open invitation is the only parting gift she can offer her ‘children.’ She hopes Opportunity can tell, from having melded with her, the feeling and the offer are sincere.
[dice=Diplo]d20+16+d6
"I will go North ... and South. We will take the cold with us. We will wait, in the ice. But we will also be here. Enough of us will be here to verify. The Genetic Authority must remain dead. We will be waiting."
"Trust," says Opportunity again, before dropping the humanoid form. They take the shape now of a hollow sphere; you know it is hollow because an orifice remains open for you to enter through. Opportunity's mouth is the last part of their mammalian form to disappear. "Let's go."
Henri appears confused, coming back into the conversation from his VR world. He looks around at the others and points at them silently and toward the sphere, a query clear on his face.
Theo frowns. "Okay..Trust." The godling takes a deep breath and enters the hollow sphere.
Nissa joins the others. “I trust you, my children.” They grow up so fast!
Unsure of what's going on, Henri follows them into the shell.
"What the heck is with ya'll leave kiddos or adoptin all over this planet. Ya'll are crazy." at the mention that they will watch and wait "Ya'll might consider given them ya comm numba or sometin. Don't just change the world and walk away. Dun be the irresposnible heroes. Keep an eye on stuff around here."
He says as much, but it isn't in a reproachful tone.
Unity observe Mother's core with interest (and perhaps a little concern)--what kind of artificial intelligence needs so many... biological components? Was this made by someone like their own 'creator'?
Shaking off such thoughts, they refocus on Opportunity. "It's good that you'll keep an eye on things. It seems unlikely we'll return once we leave," they say, then trot forward into the shell. They wonder if Opportunity is taking them somewhere other than back up onto the island.
Ta-Hashar shakes his head and says, "This place is among the strangest I have ever seen. Some of the strangest science and the most intricate magics united in its creation."
He steps into Opportunity. "When my mind was engulfed by the crystals, I dreamt of fish."
Opportunity slides silkily around you, tucking your clothes up into every crevice, encasing you completely. You barely feel yourself being transported. You feel something change when this nano-vehicle hits the water and you can feel the cold for a bit.
The next time you know where you are for sure is when Opportunity slides away depositing you gently on the shore.
A large crowd of Fishers jump to their feet. A handful of Guards have been preventing them from fishing for the day.
Their mouths are wide open in amazement to see a mound of fish flopping at your feet. Whether it was an answer to Theo's prayer or a kind act by Opportunity or Atlantean magic or an accident, Opportunity managed to carry a large mass of fish onto the shore as well.
“Eee!”
Nissa flies up from the flopping fish, most of which are larger than herself!
“Oh, my… do any of you like to cook a freshly caught fish over an open flame? I ask because—”
She zips in a circle, blazing a fiery halo in the sky. As it fizzles to harmless sparks, she finishes her sentence.
“—I can provide fire.”
"I'm used to river trout and salmon, but I can probably cook... though cooking on you feels... uh. weird. Like a sushi person." Looking around a bit at what they have and such. "We do need to gut, clean, and store these. I dunno how much they get usually but fish goes bad fast. Protin n all."
"Satisfy your mammalian needs," suggests Opportunity. "I am going. If you talk with Mother again, tell her we will be watching."
Opportunity's area begins to increase while they're density decreases. A waterproof ship barely large enough to hold you becomes a cloud hanging out over the Bay of Pearls.
Nissa laughs. “I don’t want a pile of fish on me, haha! I mean I can light a campfire, or several.”
Unity spend a brief moment contemplating if they could still be classified as a mammal as Opportunity leaves.
They look at the Fishers nearby. "We might want to leave working with the fish to them. We have some refugees to get to their homes." "If they still want to leave, that is."
Theo absentmindedly looks up to the hills, hoping to see a familiar face.
Opportunity takes to the air and flies up to the dome of light covering Utopia, not waiting for any good-byes.
Guards, Minders, Communicators, and Guardians usher you into carriages to be taken back up the mountain to the estates at the top.
You can hear chatter this time. You are not travelling in the early morning, but mid-day now and people have been talking. The Farmers, Makers, Builders, Lovers, Healers, and Fishers gossip as the carriages are pulled up the hill and you are kept out of sight.
While in the carriage, Theo gives Nissa a big hug. "I don't think Athena herself could do better! Great job, kiddo!"
Nissa can only hug a finger, which she does as Theo holds her close.
“Athena? The wise battle goddess?” She starts to tear up—not because she thinks herself wise. She’s a ditz and knows it, but what moves her is that Theo is being sincere. “I… I don’t really think I can compare to your ha… wait. Is she my half-aunt now then?”
Nissa somehow stops herself.
“Oh, Dad… I was just following Henri’s and Unity’s lead. And Hamel’s. I didn’t know what to do other than not give up on all these innocent people.
“They’re beautiful people. Different, but… I think they were making all the genetic engineering mostly work. With clear skies, I think they’ll be fine.
“I just… I…”
She doesn’t complete the thought aloud, finally realizing she just needs the hug more than anything right now.
Henri stares into space, lost in thought. A vague look of concern in his eyes as he continues to focus on Mother's voice. No longer try to speak to her, he just listens.
Henri peaks out through the curtains of the carriage and stares into space.
He catches snippets of the conversation between Mother and the thousand other voices of Mother. And, he catches snippets of his own voice telling her the stories of his elders, of Nissa singing, of Theo, of Ta-Hashar, of Unity, of Legato. He hears conversation, a dialogue. Hopefully, through this dialogue with the parts of you that you are leaving with her, Mother will be something gentler and kinder than the Genetic Authority intended.
As Henri stares into space, he sees light breaking through the darkness. The black in the sky seems to be splitting. Just as Opportunity promised, they're going North and South. They're taking every nanite in the sky with them.
The sky lightens, but looks strange, like a horrible storm is rising in Opportunity's wake.
"The weather's changing. Opportunity is letting the sunlight through, but it looks like a storm's coming. A bad one."