FWC - The point of the Summit

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amenon
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FWC - The point of the Summit

#1 Post by amenon »

Attention: Since we have a paragraph tag, I wanted to see if I could format this in a book style on the forums. That might make this messy to copy-paste. If that turns out to be a problem, I'll be happy to provide differently-formatted versions on request.

<--For a booky experience, resize until this almost wraps.-->

The point of the Summit

      I go live the moment I exit the bathroom. Hundreds of millions of people are already waiting, and the audience is past a billion by the time I turn the corner to the living room.
      First(?) Interspecies(?) Summit, day three. Current progress: One parenthetical a day.
      The biggest stage ever.
      The living room is empty, not that I expected anyone to be in there. My eyes are drawn outside, past the porch. The clearing around the house opens into a verdant, sunlit forest.
      I open the door and step out. The weather is pleasant. That seems to be the one constant. Yesterday, this had opened onto a beach.
      The first day had been mountains.
      I switch to full spectrum. Definitely looks like a forest. And nothing but a forest. Plenty of flora, but no fauna. No signs of technology. Even the sky is eerily quiet, as if the sun is the only thing up there. Not for the first time I wonder what the deal is, and humanity wonders with me. There is a rustle of leaves in the wind, and I lean out past the railing to see an enormous tree towering over the house. Camphor, says someone in the know. But too big.
      Par for the course.
      I look around, but Shia and Central are nowhere to be seen. So for the next few, all that massed humanity gets to watch me make breakfast. I go about it, tuning out a millions-strong argument on the right way to cook eggs. I’m getting started on coffee, taking guesses on what might happen to make me question ‘summit’, when a now very familiar voice interrupts me.
      “Good morning, representative of humanity!”
      Slight, indeterminate accent — probably physiological. As those in the know keep pointing out, speaking with a muzzle can be a bit weird. I turn to see Shia standing on the porch. Humanoid, bipedal, digitigrade. Covered in fur, impossibly black even in the sunlight. Bright green eyes. Tail. Pointed ears. Overall impression: feline. Wearing cargo shorts and a t-shirt with HELLO EARTHLINGS emblazoned on it. Gender still in question. Species now in question.
      “Morning.”
      I leave full spectrum active, but switch myself back to optical. Outside of my natural vision, Shia reads like blank space. I don’t get unnerved by no-id folks, but there’s something about talking to someone with no IR signature that weirds me right out. I adjust the glasses on my nose. Helps me shake the oddness.
      The ‘good mornings’ keep coming in. I check my gender neutral pronouns for the day, then reach for a way to mess them up. Get it wrong once — pretty easy to do, when the social protocols aren’t prompting you — and it’s funny. Get it wrong every time, and it’s performance art. I tilt my head a bit, our agreed signal for ‘addressing the audience’. “I know, I know, I’ll tell vim. You have a few more seconds.”
      Shia smiles, clearly amused. “‘Vim’, is a text editor. I think you’re looking for… ‘ver’. Ve, ver, vis. But you could just call me Shia.”
      The vim comment sparks an argument in some of the crustier incorporeal demographics, but I pay it no mind; it’s not the first time Shia has displayed unexpected knowledge. But ve’s never told me to call ver by name before. “I… could, couldn’t I?”
      Ve laughs. “Yes. Yes, you could.”
      I hesitate over how to respond, long enough for ‘get the name wrong too’ to emerge as the clear crowd favorite. But you don’t always play to the crowd. “Well then, Shia.” I cut the counter on an even number. “Eight hundred and twelve million people wish you a good morning.”
      Ve grins and waves. “And to all of you, even the ones who didn’t put theirs in.”
      I gesture at the kitchen. “Anything I can get you?”
      Vis ears perk up. “Coffee, please, and… orange juice?”
      I’m pretty sure the ancient-looking fridge didn’t have any just minutes ago, but know better than to not check anyway. Sure enough, orange juice. In a glass bottle, no less. I give the fridge another once-over just to please the analysis-happy people, not that I expect it to do them any good. They’d found the make and model easily enough, even tracked one like it down somewhere to compare the readings. It just… wasn’t supposed to do that. The device gives me a reproachful hum, the compressor kicking in, and I close the door.
      I pour another mug of coffee, and Shia is looking at me like ve can’t wait to get vis hands on it. I smile. “You’re welcome to come in, you know.”
      “I know, but the ship doesn’t fit.”
      I look at ver.
      “What? It’s a low ceiling!”
      I glance up despite myself. Not all that low, really, but I can imagine it wouldn’t fit a starship, no. Not unless it was a very small one.
      Shia looks at the coffee longingly, then at me. “Trade you a question for it?”
      Ve’s handing out free questions now? I start for the door, weighing my options. Shia backs away, maintaining vis distance as always. On the porch, I set vis coffee and orange juice down on the railing, then take my own mug a few solid steps to the side. Shia sidles up to the offering.
      Asking about the alleged ship is right at the top, but between the fridge episode and yet another change of scenery, another topic is high enough for me to pick it instead. I’ve been wondering about this. “Is this real? I mean, physically. Some things would make a lot more sense if this was virtual reality.”
      Ve smiles. “As real as anything. But I know what you mean, I’m pretty impressed myself. There’s some trickery at the far distance, but mostly it’s exactly as you see it. And made out of good old-fashioned molecules.”
      “And the bits I don’t see?”
      “Those are made of molecules too.” Ve grins. “Mostly.”
      As humanity ruminates on that, Shia takes vis first sip of the coffee. Ve closes ver eyes and lets out a sigh, a picture of contentment. When ve takes a sip of the orange juice, vis ears and tail bristle. I laugh, and ve smiles at me. “It’s good.”
      “I’m glad you like it.”
      We spend some quiet moments with our drinks, and I see if there’s anything to catch up on that wouldn’t have made it past my thresholds. Turns out, no real changes overnight. On the second day, Shia had on several occasions displayed knowledge too fresh to have been sourced from any terrestrial broadcast, and those suspecting ver of being rather less extraterrestrial than ve claimed now amounted to a sizeable minority. But Central had gone on record to state that it had never assigned Shia’s body-plan to anyone, and indeed, no matter how much people had looked — and people had looked — there was no record of ver to be found. Even if ve had invoked vis right to privacy to its fullest extent, that didn’t extend to people’s memories — and with almost all of humanity watching at one point or another, you’d expect someone to recognize ver. But every half-remembered didn’t-I-once turned out to be someone else. The minority argued that this wasn’t altogether unexpected, since the clear implication would be that Central was complicit in the deception. Indeed, perhaps Shia was merely Central under a different guise; the AI having an avatar was unprecedented, but if it had made one, why not two? The simplest explanation, they argued, was that the summit was just an elaborate platform for Central to address humanity.
      Still, nobody had been able to come up with a good explanation for why, while — the majority argued — it was easy to see why an alien who could eavesdrop on us would get Central’s attention.
      I silently side with the majority on this, but, looking at Shia, it’s not hard to see where they’re coming from. Ve’s not exactly anyone’s idea of an alien. I smile, and Shia gives me a curious look. I clear my throat. “So, what’s on the agenda for today? More people you want to meet?”
      Ve puts vis cup down. “No. Today will be… different.” Shia smiles slowly. “But tell me, how are the gender polls doing?”
      I check. “Ninety-some percent say ambiguous. Are you sure you even have one?”
      Ve grins. “Would you stop broadcasting for a moment?”
      Ninety-some percent say no, but it’s only polite. I take the glasses off and snap them closed, and we’re alone.
      Vis grin becomes rueful. “Not my smoothest excuse, but I wanted to talk to you in private for a moment.”
      “About?”
      “Remember that ‘risk of death’ provision you accepted? We’re getting to that part.”
      “Ah.” My throat suddenly feels tight. “Well, it did come with guaranteed reincorporation.”
      Ve smiles wryly. “Dead is still dead. I’d rather not see that happen. You… don’t need to be physically present for this. I’m sure Central would be happy to remove you to a safe distance and handle the broadcasting.”
      It seems like a no-brainer, but… “Is there any upside to me staying?”
      “… there could be.”
      “Are you… expecting things to go badly?”
      Ve shakes vis head. “No. But we can’t be sure. We don’t have Central figured out.”
      “We?”
      “I’ll get to that later.”
      I turn the glasses over in my hands. Impossibly sleek, by human standards. A black square etched into the frame. Central’s emblem. “I read the waivers. I put my name in.” I gesture with the glasses and smile. “They chose me. I don’t have the right to run away.”
      Ve looks surprised. “Even if you might die?”
      I grin. “I guess you’ll just have to see it doesn’t come to that.”
      Ve laughs. “Cheeky. I’ll… do my best. I’ve enjoyed talking with you.”
      “Me too. You’re… curious.”
      Shia swishes vis tail and flicks vis ears. “Well, I’ve got the look for it.”
      I smile, hoping I’ll live to remember this part. “Ready to go back on?”
      “Yes… oh, hang on!” Shia pulls at vis shirt a few different ways, then ruffles the fur on vis arms and neck. I laugh as I realize what ve’s doing, and ve grins at me. “Okay, ready.”
      I put the glasses back on, and in moments I’m connected again. It takes no time at all for Shia’s newly disheveled state to become a topic of discussion. I play it completely straight, not acknowledging it in any way. Somehow, I don’t quite feel in mortal danger.
      Shia winks at me, then clears vis throat. “You wanted to know the agenda for today? One item. The fate of humanity.”
      Maybe a little mortal danger.
      That gets everyone’s attention, but Shia raises a hand. “Patience. Get everyone you can to tune in. There may be decisions for you to make.”

      We find Central sitting near the base of the huge tree dominating the landscape. The AI’s avatar remains unchanged, a dull gray mannequin of a robot. The readings are consistent with what you’d expect, but the only identification it’s presenting is its name.
      Shia cranes vis neck to look up at the canopy. “It’s a very nice tree.”
      Central inclines its head, the movement slow and precise. “Thank you.” Its voice is neutral, but not emotionless. Melodically synthetic, someone had said, and I thought it fit.
      Shia smiles. “Almost makes me want to climb it.”
      “That seems like something you would do. Just remember your safety net.”
      “It’s really okay? Then… maybe later. We’re ready to get down to business.”
      Central inclines its head again, but doesn’t say anything. Shia sits down to the side, facing the robot, and I’m left standing between them. Ve gestures toward the tree, and I settle down in a nook between the roots with my back against the trunk. It’s surprisingly comfortable.
      Nobody says anything. I clear my throat. “So, who’s ‘we’?”
      Shia smiles. “Just me and my colleague.” Ve tilts vis head up. “Manifest something, would you?” A white cube appears in the air, to the front and side of Shia. A riff on Central’s symbol? Shia points at it. “Pure hologram woo. We don’t have the energy budget to get really flashy. Anyway, this is Mith.”
      The cube bobs as if to confirm, but doesn’t do anything else. Like Shia, it isn’t broadcasting anything. Life without prompts. I sound the name out. “Myth?”
      Shia covers vis face with vis hands. “Now you’ve done it.”
      A voice booms out, ostensibly from the cube. It sounds like the wisest of grandfathers with the best in audio production. “No, my child, it is pronounced with an ‘i’.”
      Shia sighs. “That’s his god voice.”
      “Err, sorry?”
      The voice modulates itself to merely grandfatherly. And amused. “That’s quite all right. I imagine it would be a common mistake if I ever met people.”
      “Don’t get out much?”
      “Don’t get spotted much. You can think of me as the ship’s AI, for convenience. And as you can’t see, we’re pretty hard to spot.”
      People are intrigued. “An amused AI? One with a gender?”
      “Indeed. I find being an ‘it’ too impersonal. And…” the cube settles down on Shia’s head, wedging itself between vis ears. “You try putting up with — ver, was it, now? — on a permanent basis. A sense of humor is essential.”
      Shia flicks the cube off and looks at me with a long-suffering expression. I smile back at ver.
      Central speaks up. “I can confirm that the entity calling itself Mith is something comparable to myself. I suspect that the entity known as Shia may be just an affectation of his. An excuse to slow our interactions down.”
      Shia sighs. “I’m going to hear about this, aren’t I?”
      Mith twirls happily. “Why yes.”
      That interpretation doesn’t feel right to me, but I have to admit it would fit. “Is that why you’re keeping your distance? Are you hologram woo?”
      Shia shakes vis head. “No. I’m myself, and I’m sitting here. But Central isn’t being unreasonable. Mith could fake my presence. The distance is related to that. If you were to get within the umbra of our ship’s active camouflage, Central would not have any reasonable way to determine that we haven’t tampered with you. We wish to give it that assurance.”
      “Tampered?”
      Shia waves a hand. “In any way we would find convenient, presumably. We do plainly have the capability. We don’t have the intent, but Central can’t be sure of that. Likewise, the reason I stay near the ship is that if I left it behind, Central could kill me at will.” Ve smiles ruefully. “Not a lot of basis for trust either way, I’m afraid.”
      Central, kill someone? “Why would it do that?” I look around. “Or how?”
      “We have no motive to offer, but the means would boil down to a light speed attack with short or no precursors.” Ve taps the ground. “There’s a lot more to this place than meets the eye, and it’s not just that the scenery keeps changing. All the interesting bits are below the surface.”
      Too many questions. “So what is this place? Where are we?”
      Shia looks at Central. “Would you?”
      Central inclines its head, and the sun shifts in the sky, wheeling in a way that doesn’t appear to allow for any reasonable trajectory. I notice the furor from those watching before I see the obvious. Near the horizon, the Earth and the Moon hang in the sky.
      The Moon looks twice as big as I’m accustomed to, and the Earth bigger still.
      I stare. Impossible. In more ways than one. “That’s easily over a light-second.”
      Shia nods. “About two.”
      “I have a ten millisecond link to Earth.” To every network junction. Through the black box network. The pieces begin to fall into place.
      Someone on Earth has had the time to do the math and get a telescope on our purported location. “They’re looking back at us. Nothing here.”
      Central says, “Mark.”
      Two seconds and change later, there is. Unclassified celestial object. Apparent sphere, predominantly green, about fifty kilometres across. Someone gets the space-based optics tasked and — with relatively high certainty — pinpoints the tree I’m leaning against.
      I look at Central. “You have FTL.”
      “Faster-than-light signalling, with prepared endpoints. That is the maximum extent physics will allow.”
      And… other technologies. “That flier brought me here in under ten minutes. The others, too.”
      “It was going slow to avoid obvious relativistic effects.”
      Not exactly what I meant, but okay. I look at Shia. “It can do… anything?”
      Shia grins. “To a first approximation. Central has a lot of resources and a complete understanding of physics, and isn’t afraid to apply either.”
      Its earthly works, near-magical as they’ve appeared, start to feel mundane. “For… what?”
      “As far as we can tell? Expansion, mostly.”
      “Expansion.”
      “The perimeter seems to be over eighty years out on average.”
      “… light years?”
      Shia nods.
      “That’s over ten thousand stars.”
      Shia nods again.
      “What for?”
      “Central?”
      “To protect.”
      “To protect what?”
      “Humans.”
      “From what?”
      “From anything that might threaten you.”
      I stare, and billions stare with me. “… and have you found anything out there?”
      “No.”
      “Then…” I look at Shia and Mith. “Where did these two come from?”
      “Unknown.”
      “Unknown.”
      “Yes, unknown. They appeared in the solar system eleven days ago. They have since demonstrated both instantaneous travel and undetectable remote sensing. I suspect these two capabilities are connected. However, as they are both physically impossible, I am not certain they can be meaningfully reasoned about.”
      I look at Shia. “Physically impossible.”
      “Yup!” Ve turns to Central. “And you’re correct that they’re connected. The ability to immediately go anywhere would be a lot less useful if you couldn’t see where you were going.”
      “That was the basis of my assumption, yes.”
      Something pertinent percolates up from the assembled humanity. “The simulation hypothesis.” The idea that reality isn’t real.
      Central inclines its head. “Yes.”
      Shia nods. “That is our understanding as well. This is not the highest order reality, but rather a simulation. We do not know who is running the simulation, or why, but this is just one of many. Our ship can traverse between them. We suspect it’s all some sort of gigantic experiment, and the ship was created to observe… Though we don’t know why someone would want to observe from within, when presumably they could just look at the state.”
      My train of thought is derailed by the breaking news that Mercury is missing. “What happened to Mercury?”
      “I used the resources to jump-start my stellar mining operations.”
      “Stellar mining.”
      “Yes, stellar mining.”
      Shia clears vis throat. “You might want to take some commemorative photographs of Jupiter while you still have the chance.”
      “… Jupiter is gone too?”
      “Gas giants are much more convenient to mine than stars.”
      Astronomers the world over are getting anxious. “The other planets?”
      “All still there.”
      The light bubble of our new age reaches the sun and reveals a superstructure surrounding parts of it. People start speculating about energy extractors, but I tune it out. I get it already; Central has been doing macro-engineering. Nothing is as it had appeared. There’s more fundamental questions at stake. “You say you suspect. How did you come by the ship?”
      “I found it. Hidden, apparently for a long time. Stripped down but mostly functional.”
      Shia didn’t say ‘we’, that time. “Where?”
      “On an Earth, somewhere out there.”
      “So you are human.”
      Shia smiles. “Yes. But also not from here.”
      “You said ‘somewhere’. You don’t know?”
      “I don’t. The first jump was accidental. There is no record of where I started.”
      “So you’re lost?”
      Ve smiles again. “Possibly the most lost anyone has ever been.”
      “Trying to get home?”
      “Not because that’s where I come from. Because that’s where the ship was.”
      Mith goes spinning by. “We have a few questions about the nature of reality we’d like to put to someone who knows. That’s still our only lead.”
      “So no other ships?”
      “We’ve never seen another, or anyone else with proof of the simulation hypothesis.”
      “It’s only us, as far as we know.”
      “Of course, we might not know.”
      I consult my fact-checkers. “You said ‘many’ realities. How many?”
      Mith stops spinning. “Unknown. The addressing scheme seems arbitrary and the address space… indeterminate. But this one makes four thousand, six hundred, and fifteen different ones that we have catalogued, to date.”
      Central speaks up before I can. “Are there any patterns?”
      “Earth. Even physics varies more than the presence of Earth, and humanity. Reality appears to be startlingly anthropocentric.”
      Shia shrugs. “Or perhaps we’re just knocking about in some sub-branch of a sub-branch, unable to find our way out.”
      Mith bobs in the air. “Old argument. No way to tell.”
      I close my eyes for a moment. Central godmoding. Shia and Mith traveling between realities. The fate of humanity. “Why are you talking to us?”
      Shia hesitates. “We… take an interest in humanity.”
      “What ve means is, ve meddles.”
      Shia bats at Mith. “We have a portfolio of things that we can do, that are unlikely to muck things up. Introducing certain technologies. Curing some diseases.”
      “None of which applies here.”
      “Indeed. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves. Our immediate problem was that we could not get a good idea of the situation here.”
      “Our normal MO is passive observation. Given our capabilities, it’s usually a matter of minutes to gather everything that’s a matter of public record and review it. Not so here.” The cube inclines itself toward Central’s avatar. “Indeed, I still don’t even know where the data is actually stored. Best we were able to do was eavesdrop on endpoints, and that’s no way to get anywhere fast.”
      Shia looks at me. “So we asked Central to organize this summit, so we could get a line to humanity. You have been our terminal device. With so many people watching, we have been able to learn all we wanted to know from their comments. And we’ve been able to ascertain that Central will allow this interaction to occur without interfering. Especially today.” Ve pauses for a moment, then tilts vis head. Addressing the audience. “I know some of you are thinking through the implications of Central’s newly displayed capabilities. Trying to figure out how much it has shaped your history. The short answer is: a lot.” Ve smiles. “Talking to you lot has been a fascinating experience. Your governments disassembled themselves, and you don’t have the context to find that funny.” The smile fades. “Well… we can give you that context. Indeed, we can provide a detailed statistical analysis on the effect of Central on humanity. But the executive summary is that there is only one thing that causes me concern.”
      “And that is?”
      “The demographics. We can only conclude that, for some reason, Central has chosen a path that seeks to reduce the number of corporeal humans in existence.”
      “Reduce… how much?”
      “Ballpark? There are three, three and a half billion less of you than we’d expect to see.”
      “… and how has it done this?”
      “Mainly through the subversion of life-extension research. Possibly also by shaping societal attitudes, but the jury is still out on that one.”
      “Subverted how?”
      “Best guess? All the especially bright minds who had a bent for it might have come across other problems that they found even more intriguing.” Shia smiles. “Or possibly found someone that pulled their life in a different direction. Central seems to be quite the matchmaker.”
      I turn to Central. “Is this true?”
      “It is.”
      “On behalf of most of humanity… why?”
      “To protect.”
      “From what? You have an eighty year perimeter! You could probably move the entire solar system out of the way if something threatened it!” I see Shia cover vis mouth from the corner of my eye.
      Central inclines its head. “Indeed. Not even someone with my resources would be a threat to humanity.” It turns its gaze to Mith. “But tell me. What is the worst you could do?”
      Shia makes a strangled sound. “You… your threat model includes things that aren’t physically possible?”
      Central inclines its head in silence.
      Shia’s mouth hangs open for a moment. “Mith?”
      “Yeah?”
      Ve hangs vis head. “We’re dealing with a sysadmin.”
      Another hit with the crustiest incorporeals.
      “I acted to mitigate the worst case that can be mitigated. The digitized are as safe as I can make them. The biologicals will always be comparatively vulnerable.”
      “And the ones who are now dead?”
      “There are next to none who would choose biological immortality, yet reject digitization.”
      “And those next to none?”
      “I watched every one of them go.”
      Central’s words hang in the air. I sigh, in time with Shia. We look at each other, but before either of us speaks Mith’s cube-avatar settles on vis head again. Shia smiles and reaches up to catch the cube, turning it over in vis hands. “What’s the verdict?”
      The cube deforms, becoming a sphere, and shifts into a light-blue color. “I’ll buy it, and there have been no anomalies with the broadcast. I’d say… we can do business with it.”
      “Business?”
      Shia smiles at me. “We have something Central wants. The ship moves by displacement.” Ve punches at the air above verself. There’s a loud thunk, and for a few seconds a translucent sphere about two stories high blinks in the air above ver. “When we move, what we replace moves the other way. Our currency is FTL travel.”
      “… to accelerate Central’s expansion even farther.”
      “Yup.”
      “Does it even need that?”
      Shia grins. “It’s such a big galaxy.”
      Mith rolls by, matter-of-fact. “And there’s the mass distribution to consider. It’s like a race to the core, really. And this is so far out to start.”
      “And it doesn’t know what’s out there.”
      “And we’re not telling it.”
      “Okay, okay, I get it. What are you bartering for?”
      Shia smiles. “Us? Nothing. We’re just giving you leverage.”
      If the election was held again this moment, Shia would win in a single round. I’d vote for ver, too. “… thank you. What would you ask for?”
      “Well, if you just get it to relax its threat model that should take care of everything. But since you ask…” Shia counts off on vis fingers. “Make reincarnation available to all who want it. Add rejuvenation and biological immortality to the services it offers. Enable reproduction between any who want it, hybrids and all — it can figure it out.” Ve stops for a moment to consider. “Oh, and the ability for self-modification and more clock cycles for the incorporeal crowd.” Ve smiles. “Not everyone shares my preference for the physical.”
      Those all get a good reception, but there is one overriding concern. I turn to Central. “Humanity requires a way to opt out of your protection.”
      Central inclines its head. “That is a right every individual already has, but it cannot be allowed to be fully exercised where they might harm those still under my protection.”
      “… so not on Earth?”
      “If you wish to be completely free of me, not in the solar system.”
      “… what would you consider feasible?”
      “There are many suitable stars. The nearest is Tau Ceti. I could build you a world there, and offer conveyance to those who wish it. Linear transportation for biologicals would, of course, take at a minimum approximately twelve years, Earth time. It is also possible to translate a human from analogue to digital and back, across an FTL link, with demonstrable continuity.”
      Twelve years to Tau Ceti, twelve years away as light reckons. “And to build the world, how long would that take?”
      “That would depend on the specifications. Most likely, not more than a month. There are ample materials.”
      A month.
      Central addresses all of humanity. “To those of you who will make this choice: You will always be welcome back. And… please think of the ones you might be making the choice for.”
      It all gets to be a bit much. I sigh. “There are more, and more complicated positions than I can adequately represent. Please continue addressing the people directly. And Mith… are you able to participate?”
      “If Central will allow it.”
      “It is done.”
      The two AIs and a great majority of humanity form a maelstrom of discourse. I step away from it all, removing my glasses, folding them closed and carefully placing them on the ground beside me. I lean my head against the tree and sigh, trying to let the tension go. It’s been no time at all, really. Jupiter is probably still there.
      “Rough day?” Shia is smiling at me.
      I laugh. “Yes. You?”
      Ve nods. “I’m not used to this sort of thing.”
      “Thank you.” I’m not even sure what for.
      “Thanks for the thanks.”
      “You’re… welcome? Does that even make sense?”
      Ve grins. “I’ll take it.”
      I smile. “How’s it looking? I don’t really want to jump back in there.”
      “Like we’ll be shuffling bits of Central around for the next few months.”
      “So it’s not quite instantaneous, after all?”
      “The transition itself is, but there are certain… considerations.”
      “Is this going to take you badly out of your way?”
      Shia laughs. “As if we have a way. But yes, it’ll delay us. This might become the longest I’ve spent in any one place for a long, long time.”
      “For some definition of ‘one place’.”
      Ve grins. “Indeed.”
      In a long, long time, ve says. Over four thousand realities, Mith had said. “How… how long have you two been doing this, exactly?”
      Ve smiles. “I forget.”
      And I understand what ve had meant, that the point wasn’t to go home. Looking at the apparently happy-go-lucky Shia, more lost than anyone, I get a sudden urge to do something for ver. But it’s not like there’s anything I can do. Still… I look at the moon and the Earth, still hanging on the horizon, and question my intuitions. But eventually, I get up. You have to do what you have to do. I take a step towards Shia, and ve looks up at me curiously.
      Mith’s avatar-orb interposes itself between us. “Here be dragons.”
      I look at Central. “If I step in there, what are the consequences?”
      “If you subsequently wish to return to Earth, you will be subject to a full analysis. A new backup will be taken, and compared to the one from two days ago.”
      I nod, and turn back to Shia. “Can I approach?”
      “… you want to?”
      “Yes.”
      Shia hesitates for a moment. “You… can. And Mith? No mind-reading.”
      The orb gives a credible impression of hemming and hawing. “… very well. Capabilities only. All green. You may approach.”
      I take another step, and feel no different, see nothing different. Just Shia, sitting there. I crouch down next to ver and reach out a hand. “May I?”
      Ve tilts vis head. “Sure?”
      I touch Shia on the top of vis head. Ve’s warm, and vis short fur is silky. I stroke vis head slowly, and vis eyes slide closed. I scratch ver behind the ears, and a small smile plays on vis lips. When I draw my hand back, ve follows it for a bit before catching verself.
      Shia opens vis eyes, smiling widely. “Yes, you may.”
      I smile back. “Good to know. Just felt like the thing to do.”
      “It was.” Ve sighs. “Thank you.”
      “My pleasure. Is there anything else I can do for you while I’m here?”
      “Do you… how would you like to tag along while we do the thing? We’ll be near Earth half the time, so it wouldn’t have to be the full duration. Or… you wouldn’t be completely out of touch.”
      “… wouldn’t it get cramped? The ship looked pretty small.”
      “Oh, it’s bigger on the inside. You’d have your own room…” Ve smiles. “… if you want?”
      “I…” I reach out to touch vis cheek. “I think I’d —”
      Mith clears his throat, not that he has one. “You do realize we’re still live?”
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amenon
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Post-mortem: FWC - The point of the Summit

#2 Post by amenon »

Post-mortem time!

Despite my lacklustre performance in the competition (6th out of 10), I still feel good about this story based on the feedback I've gotten so far (including that from the judges.) Clearly, demonstrably, it wasn't a good contest entry, but it does seem to be working more or less as I wanted it to. (Aside from, you know, winning.) That said, I really haven't heard from all that many people, so it's a bit of a guess at this point. If you've read this (or tried to read it) and have something to say about it, please do. Especially if it's negative.

The only thing I would for sure change at this point is the title. I decided to scrap my working title just before the deadline, and The Point of the Summit was the best I could come up with quickly. If I released it now, I'd call it Ten Thousand Stars. Opinions are also welcome on whether that would actually be an improvement :P (And if you want to weigh my working title as well, it was simply Shia.)

Here's the breakdown of my competition scores:

How creative was the original idea of the story: 11/20
How skillful at writing was the author of the story: 17/20
How engaging was the story: 10/20
How well was the world of the story built and used: 12/20

MARKETING ENSUES

Clearly, what we're looking at here is both a confirmation of my writing ability, and an indictment of my subject matter. So why not check out my Twokinds smuts [NSFW], if that sounds like something you might be interested in? Or if it doesn't sounds like something you'd be interested in, but for whatever reason can be persuaded to check out? That's a really hard demographic to hit, and one I'd love to hear more from!
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