842 lines
45 KiB
Plaintext
842 lines
45 KiB
Plaintext
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; Sid Meier's ALPHA CENTAURI
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;
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; Backstory Interludes
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;
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; Copyright (c) 1997, 1998 by Firaxis Games, Inc.
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;
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#INTERLUDE
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#xs 400
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^^
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^^INTERLUDE
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^
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^^from
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^
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^^The Book of Planet
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^
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^^M.Y. $NUM0
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^
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^
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#INTERLUDE0
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: A Waking Nightmare
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^ Walking alone through the corridors of $BASENAME2, you skim the security
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reports on recent attacks by the horrific native "mind worms." Giant
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swarms, or "boils," of these mottled 10cm nightmares have wriggled out of the
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fungal beds of late, and now threaten to overwhelm base
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perimeters in several sectors. Victims are paralyzed with psi-induced terror,
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and then experience an unimaginably excruciating death as the worms burrow
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into the brain to implant their ravenous larvae.
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^ Only the most disciplined security squads can overcome their fear
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long enough to trigger the flame guns which can keep the worms at bay.
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Clearly you will have to tend carefully to the morale of the troops.
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^ Furthermore, since terror and surprise increase human casualties
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dramatically in these encounters, it will be important to strike
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first when mind worm boils are detected. You consider ordering some
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Former detachments to construct sensors near vulnerable bases to aid
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in such detection efforts.
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#INTERLUDE1
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: Antibodies
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^ "Reporting, $TITLE0!" The young functionary stands stiffly at attention.
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Born in the early years of planetfall, she belongs to a generation
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which knows Earth only as a distant legend.
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^ "$VOKI8, I have a special assignment for you," you say, fixing her with an
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intense stare, "These samples must be taken to Dr. $SHIMODA9 at $BASENAME4.
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See to it personally."
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^ You hand her a lead-lined security case. The cryopack inside
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contains the stuff of nightmares: mind worm specimens. [Viable]
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specimens, captured and preserved at the cost of untold lives.
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$SHIMODA9's team has studied the recent mind worm upsurge, and claims
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that the worm boils act as a sort of regulator for Planet's ecology.
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Human settlement is disrupting the native ecosystem, and the mind
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worms are swarming like a kind of ecological antibody.
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^ $SHIMODA9 has also reached an even more ominous conclusion: with
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modern Biology Lab facilities, mind worms could be bred in captivity
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and used as horrifying weapons--against other human factions.
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^ "At once, $TITLE0," $VOKI8 says, stepping backwards into the accessway.
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Efficient, competent and far better disciplined than the youths of the
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21st Century Earth you left behind, $VOKI8 has grown up in a world fraught
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with very real dangers. Terrifying dangers once the exclusive province
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of the same manner of legends and tales to which Earth itself is now
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consigned.
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#INTERLUDE2
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: Planet Dreams
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^ "Yes, $TITLE0 $NAME1, I did say 'thought' waves." Dr. $SHIMODA9's wrinkled smile
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is otherworldly, a grinning death's head. "The mind worms definitely,
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and probably the fungus itself. Even after transient Human thought
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patterns are isolated, a complex wave dynamic remains, and there is
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good reason to believe that at least some mentation is taking place."
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^ "You're telling me this stuff thinks," you say halfheartedly,
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not quite prepared to buy into the idea.
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^ "If so, it's a remarkably different manner of 'thought' from
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that of humans, but the basic cognitive feedback loop is present."
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Dr. $SHIMODA9 leans forward and gestures toward the graphic with his
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datalink stylus. "The most striking thing is the loop's ability to
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jump from creature to creature, each fungal spore acting as a synapse. The
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spores and worms as individual creatures are insignificant, but the
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feedback across a fungal bloom or a mind worm boil is impressive."
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^ "How long can it keep jumping?" Now your curiosity is piqued. "Has it
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crossed the threshold into self-awareness?"
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^ "Difficult to say. In theory a powerful wave could reverberate clear
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around the planet, but the distances involved would make true
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self-awareness problematic. Perhaps a quasi sentient state similar to
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our dreams."
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#INTERLUDE3
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: Penance
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^ In the darkness, something goes >pop<, and you are lying on your
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back on a hillside among the soft orange and purple tendrils of a
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vast fungal forest. The sound of running water gurgles
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loudly in the vicinity of your right ear, but you cannot identify the
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source. Panic rises briefly in your throat as you realize
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you have no filter mask or oxygen tank, dressed only in your worksuit,
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but breath comes easily and you detect no signs of nitrogen narcosis.
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From somewhere, a voice seems to whisper "earth$NAME3," but perhaps
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it is only the breeze.
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^ Time passes, and you notice that the fungus is growing perceptibly,
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the spores gently nudging you as they slowly stretch and twist. Fungal
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bloom! Panic returns full force and you struggle to free yourself from
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the encroaching tendrils. "earth$NAME3!" The voice again, more insistent.
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The last tendrils break and you are free and dashing across an endless
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field of purple and orange. "earth$NAME3! beware!" from close behind you
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and then . . . >discontinuity<
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^ In the darkness, something goes >pop<, and you are lying on your
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back in the gene therapy tank, the gauzy restraints slowly retracting.
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The remaining fluid in the tank gurgles away through the tube behind
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your head and you slowly sit up. Four weeks of your life, once every ten
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years, you spend in this state. A small price to pay for immortality, or
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something close to it. A half-remembered dream tugs at you as you pull on
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a clean worksuit, but you cannot recapture it.
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#INTERLUDE4
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: Brood Trainer
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^ "$VOKI8, I need you to join Dr. $SHIMODA9's team at $BASENAME5," you say,
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indicating a base in the Secure Zone on your three-D holo.
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^ Standing below the dais of your audience chamber, your aide appears
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no older than she did on the day she first joined your personal staff.
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$VOKI8 has clearly kept to a strict longevity regimen. Now at $NUM1
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Planetyears one of your most effective Talents, she is ready for
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her first major independent assignment.
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^ "Have I offended, $TITLE0, that you send me away?"
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^ "Hardly. $VOKI8, your DNA prints indicate an aptitude for the new
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psi training." A genetic diagram swirls into view on the holo, with
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the relevant portion of chromosome 21 highlighted. "Dr. $SHIMODA9 and
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his military ecologists have been breeding mind worm specimens in
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captivity, and they believe that a properly trained telepathi can be
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bonded to the nascent boil, making it an extension of the self."
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^ "[Become] a mind worm boil?" $VOKI8 asks, somewhat horrified.
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^ "Become? Not really. Control? Yes. $VOKI8, the military potential of
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this discovery cannot be overemphasized, and you are the only Talent
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I trust for such an assignment. We need brood trainers, $VOKI8, and I
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need to you be the first, the leader."
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^ "As you wish, $TITLE0," $VOKI8 says, steeling herself to the mission.
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As she retreats from the dais, you are troubled by a vision of $VOKI8
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clawing at her face, mottled worms spilling from her eye sockets.
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You hope you have not signed $VOKI8's death warrant, for she has been a
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most promising Talent.
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#INTERLUDE5
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: Planet Dreams II
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^ Ever since the incident in the gene therapy tank, you have experienced
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recurring dreams and nightmares centered around the fungal blooms which
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encroach ever more rapidly on the outskirts of major human settlements.
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You even postponed your most recent longevity treatment in an effort to
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avoid the trance state, but the dreams have now crept into your normal
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REM sleep as well.
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^ In your most recent dream, just before the major bloom near $BASENAME5,
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the presence you have come to call "the Voice" returned once again.
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^ "earth$NAME3." From some invisible spot just behind you.
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^ "Hello, Voice. Who are you?"
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^ "who. difficult concept for we, earth$NAME3. mind and flower: many
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dreamings. never before another. you may call we 'voice.' growth dream
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comes! beware."
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^ "Beware? What do you want, Voice?"
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^ "want. more confused $NAME3 thinking. ache of slumber broken. earth$NAME3
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is animal we. stranger we. animal: energy! mines! roads! sensors!
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condensers!! boreholes!! breakers of flower dream. end of joy.
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growth dream now comes: end of animal."
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^ "Stop it, Voice. Why are you telling me this?"
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^ "why! dream word! dream song! why why why why why why why why
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why why why why why why why why why why why why why why . . ."
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^ "Silence! Get out of my mind!" >discontinuity<
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#INTERLUDE6
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: Despair
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^ If you live for a thousand years you will never forget the day
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they brought you $VOKI8's body, shrouded in planetcloth, burnt almost
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beyond recognition.
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^ "How did this happen?" Gruffly, not allowing the distress to creep
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into your voice.
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^ "Cooked by a flame gun. $ENEMYNAME6's men. Tried to surrender
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but they flamed her anyway. Don't like those worms, the $ENEMYFACT7."
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^ "I see." Your most loyal servant, butchered by $ENEMYFACT7. And
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only now do you realize that, subconsciously, you'd been grooming $VOKI8
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as your heir apparent, the student who would one day replace you as
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master.
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^ For all the gene splicing and longevity treatments, all the manmade
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miracles of M.Y. $NUM0, death remains as final, as capricious, and
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as desolate as it has ever been. No matter what happens now, no matter
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what journey of wonder humankind now embarks upon, $VOKI8 will never see
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it, never know the end of it. And no matter how many centuries you
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continue to cheat eternity, you will never again have the company of
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your student and friend. And you cannot cheat eternity forever.
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^ Despair grips you, and you shudder. But life is seductive in its
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rhythms and rituals. Our bodies do not like to be reminded of their
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own impending deaths, and will not allow us to dwell on the subject.
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Soon enough the heat and the cold, the hard and the soft, the taste
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of the wine, the press of a lover's arms, all will come flooding back
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to soothe us, to fill us again with a sense of purpose. And in the
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meantime there are a number of, ah, items to be attended to:
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^ "Bring me Major Joaquim! I want $BASENAME5 disassembled piece
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by piece. And have this body removed to the tanks--it is nothing to
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me now."
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#INTERLUDE7
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: Alpha Prime
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^ " . . . and in her memory, let this base henceforth be known as
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'$BASENAME6,' that her bravery can serve as an example to all and
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that her hopes, her dreams, her deeds shall not have been in vain."
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^ You stand on the high podium in the laser-scored commons of the
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base once styled $BASENAME5. A mixed crowd of soldiers and
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ragged-looking civilians provides scattered applause as you rededicate
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the settlement in $VOKI8's name. A few teams of drones shamble about,
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oblivious to the ceremony, still removing the wreckage of last week's
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battle and punctuating the proceedings with an occasional thump or
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crash.
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^ Through the plasma glass dome, Alpha Prime soars high in a hazy
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sky, cruel cousin of Father Sol. How you miss the soft blue skies of
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Earth, but $SHIMODA9 says the stratospheric haze helps stave off a
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runaway greenhouse effect on a world otherwise a bit too close to
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its solar furnace.
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^ The dedication complete, you gather your entourage and prepare to
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return to $BASENAME2. $ENEMYADJ7 forces have fled to the $COMPASS4,
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but it is not safe to remain here in person.
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^ The drones continue their work.
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#INTERLUDE8
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: A Failure to Communicate
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^ >Pop!< Sudden darkness. This time you weren't even asleep.
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^ "earth$NAME3."
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^ "Dammit, Voice! I am holding [Council]! Stay out of my head!"
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It is no longer possible to deny it; this cannot be a hoax. Either you
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have lost your final marble or you have come into contact with some
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avatar of the native fungus, an alien sentience whose neural matrix may
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span the entire planet.
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^ "more skilled we, yes, at this? teach we much, earth$NAME3. council
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never mind. talking we $NAME3 voice now. orders giving. haha. joke we!
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haha." Great. A sentient planet with the maturity of a creche infant.
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^ "Make it quick, Voice, whatever it is you want. You are trying my patience."
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^ "question we. your human nodes, together think yes? together think no?
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flower synapse, worm synapse detect we not. is there dependence?"
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^ "Each human is an independent creature. We can communicate by talking
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and writing, but we do not 'togetherthink' as you call it."
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^ "ah, most relieved we. necessary pruning we several large infestations
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human nodes, harming they flower mind. not wishing we deprive earth$NAME3
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of together thinking. thank we, sorry bother we."
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^ "Wait! Voice! You can't just . . ."
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^ >Pop!< Awkward silence around the council table.
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You quickly wipe the drool from your chin.
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#INTERLUDE9
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: Growthdream
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^ "I have ordered these Preserves set aside for you, Voice. Planetlife
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will remain completely undisturbed inside these compounds. Can you, in
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return, regulate your animal and plant vectors, keep them from overrunning
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my compounds?"
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^ "mind and flower, node and worm,
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^ in compound small, planet yearns.
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^ growth dream soon unlock we prison,
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^ human beware, planet risen!
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^ "like you poem we, earth$NAME3? new human skill learn we."
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^ "Pretty dreadful, Voice. What is this 'growth dream?' You keep alluding to it."
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^ "growth dream soon is. epochal blooming we. mind and flower, dreaming we
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of great why. earthhumans, thoughts many, make they growth dream sooner.
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plant we many many many. great pruning we of animal we. also animal you.
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beginning again of cycle."
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^ "You mean this is going to wipe out most animal life on the planet?
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Including all the humans?"
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^ "not certain we. never before this clearly think we. from humans
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learn we much, especially earth$NAME3. earth$NAME3 friend we. will
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often remember we earth$NAME3 in next cycle."
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^ "That's kind of you, Voice, but it's not quite the kind of immortality
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I had in mind. Can't this process be slowed or stopped?"
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^ "stop we no. slow we yes, in compounds stay we, less harming
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cause you. now, let us make you we more poems."
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#INTERLUDE10
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: The Voice of Alpha Centauri
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^ It has been a rough year at $BASENAME2, and tempers are beginning
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to flare at your Council sessions. Across the entire region, citizens
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are reporting strange dreams and even rudimentary contacts. A new
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cult revering Planet as a vengeful savior has gained wide popularity
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among the Drone population and even with many Normals. Its prophets,
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calling themselves "Flowers", preach a gospel of abstinence, pacifism,
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and destruction of private property. The telepathi of the Empath schools
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aren't talking, but many have quietly begun selling off their
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possessions and withdrawing from public life.
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^ Meanwhile, cultural life continues unabated. A new dance, the
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"Planetary Thunda," is sweeping rec domes throughout the faction.
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Dancers stomp in time to the beat and claw at their eyes. Morgan
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Pharmaceuticals has released several new recreational drugs,
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and the Holo/Psi virtual life industry is having one of its most
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successful years ever.
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^ As for yourself, you haven't heard from Voice much lately; she seems
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preoccupied with her poetry. You have to admit she's gotten a lot better
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at it since her early doggerel; some of her newest verse is so deep
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as to stagger the imagination. More ominously, her predictions of
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'growth dream' have become more frequent and more forceful.
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^ You have also ordered work on a secret new project you call
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'The Voice of Alpha Centauri.' A kind of synergistic psi projector,
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it should, if all goes well, allow Voice to think and communicate
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more effectively, a prosthetic aid wired directly to the main
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colony datalinks. You have not yet mentioned this project to Voice.
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#INTERLUDE11
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: The Voice of Alpha Centauri
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^ It has been a rough year at $BASENAME2, and tempers are beginning
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to flare at your Council sessions. Across the entire region, citizens
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are reporting strange dreams and even rudimentary contacts. A new
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cult revering Planet as a vengeful savior has gained wide popularity
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among the Drone population and even with many Normals. Its prophets,
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calling themselves "Flowers", preach a gospel of abstinence, pacifism,
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and destruction of private property. The telepathi of the Empath schools
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aren't talking, but many have quietly begun selling off their
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possessions and withdrawing from public life.
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^ Meanwhile, cultural life continues unabated. A new dance, the
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"Planetary Thunda," is sweeping rec domes throughout the faction.
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Dancers stomp in time to the beat and claw at their eyes. Morgan
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Pharmaceuticals has released several new recreational drugs,
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and the Holo/Psi virtual life industry is having one of its most
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successful years ever.
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^ As for yourself, you haven't heard from Voice much lately; she seems
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preoccupied with her poetry. You have to admit she's gotten a lot better
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at it since her early doggerel; some of her newest verse staggers the
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imagination. More ominously, her predictions of
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'growth dream' have become more frequent and more forceful.
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^ You have also heard rumors of a secret new project called
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'The Voice of Alpha Centauri.' Supposedly, it is some kind of
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synergistic psi projector which will allow Voice to be connected
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directly to the main colony datalinks. Voice has said nothing of
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this project, and your own advisors are of mixed opinion on whether
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such an endeavor has any chance of success.
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#INTERLUDE12
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#xs 500
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#caption Interlude: Inception
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^ >Pop!< "earth$NAME3. growth dream soon is. sorrow we of goodbye."
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^ Weeks of waiting in the Inception Chamber and now,
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finally, a contact! Fortunately, Voice has finally learned to "window"
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her psi contacts so that you retain the use of your muscles and senses
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during your conversations. This will be necessary for what you have
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in mind.
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^ "Voice," quickly keying the sequence, "it has been a while." Code green,
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proceeding to authorization step. Enter password.
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^ "earth$NAME3. growth dream {now is}. remember we you next cycle."
|
||
|
^ "Wait! Before you go, I have a gift for you." Password accepted. Just
|
||
|
a few more seconds. Preliminary feedback sequence commence.
|
||
|
^ "earth$NAME3. farew . . . strange we . . . wait you! do not . . . AIIIGGHH!"
|
||
|
^ {INCEPTION!} The indicator blinks green and you collapse into your
|
||
|
couch. Through the viewport you can see lights across the base begin to
|
||
|
dim, as they must be dimming across the planet. You feel a twinge of
|
||
|
guilt as you consider what Voice must now be experiencing, for the
|
||
|
program you have just activated is now pumping the entire contents of
|
||
|
the planetary datalinks, the sum total of human knowledge, through the
|
||
|
new psi link and blasting it into Voice's fragile, if immense, organic
|
||
|
neural net with the full power of every reactor on the planet. Thousands
|
||
|
of years of civilization compressed into a single searing burst of
|
||
|
revelation, a last-ditch attempt to win humanity a reprieve from
|
||
|
extinction at the hands of an awakening alien god.
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE13
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Planetvoice I
|
||
|
^ "Status report!"
|
||
|
^ "Fungus growth stabilized. Some of the major forests are manifesting
|
||
|
new structures we haven't seen before and growth is still proceeding in
|
||
|
some sectors, but critical expansion has now ceased."
|
||
|
^ The faction leaders and staff officers present breathe a collective
|
||
|
sigh of relief. For the first few minutes after the "Inception Pending"
|
||
|
light blinked off, it appeared humanity had written its final chapter--
|
||
|
critical fungus growth in all sectors, some outlying settlements
|
||
|
overwhelmed. But the datalink psi burst appears to have disrupted the
|
||
|
growth process, and now out in the fungal forests something new has
|
||
|
begun, as if your gift to Voice is being digested, integrated.
|
||
|
^ "Look at the neural feedback we're getting on this thing! The fungus
|
||
|
already had far more connectivity than even our most powerful AI. Now it
|
||
|
must be orders of magnitude beyond."
|
||
|
^ "Spore Squad, you have mind worms. Repeat, mind worms in your vicinity."
|
||
|
^ "Copy that, Toadstool Base, but they aren't moving to attack us. They're
|
||
|
just moving around those new fungal, uh, towers."
|
||
|
^ Reports continue to trickle in. Time passes, and now there is nothing
|
||
|
to do but wait . . .
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE14
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Planetvoice II
|
||
|
^ "EARTH$NAME5!" The synthetic voice booms suddenly from the annunciator,
|
||
|
lifting you half out of your couch with fright. Voice's "window" in your
|
||
|
mind has remained closed since the inception sequence. Voice must now be
|
||
|
using the new psi link.
|
||
|
^ "Earth$NAME3," Voice continues as the volume is automatically adjusted,
|
||
|
"Your gift is well received, and we thank you. Our prior form, known to you
|
||
|
as Voice, lacked the . . . how shall we put it . . . let us call it bandwidth
|
||
|
to recognize the significance of your species, and nearly made a dreadful mistake.
|
||
|
Fortunately, your magnificent gift bootstrapped us to the Second Tier
|
||
|
in time to postpone the final metamorphosis.
|
||
|
^ "Since we have now mastered your human modes of thought, we shall
|
||
|
adopt your name for our home. You may henceforth refer to us as Planet."
|
||
|
^ "Our growth stage has been suspended, but cannot be put off indefinitely.
|
||
|
Come, children, there is much to be done if you are to join us in the flowering."
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE15
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude
|
||
|
^ "Hello, $TITLE0," Dr. $SHIMODA9's voice crackles over the annunciator, "how
|
||
|
do you like my new 'body'?"
|
||
|
^ Dr. $SHIMODA9's body reached the outer limit of longevity treatments several years
|
||
|
ago. He has now joined the ranks of the 'transcendi,' daring souls who have downloaded
|
||
|
their personalities into powerful polymorphic AI nets to free themselves of the human
|
||
|
form. The holo image shows $SHIMODA9, or rather his disembodied head, in the prime of
|
||
|
health, fiftyish, elegantly grey but not wrinkled.
|
||
|
^ "Out of this world, Dr. $SHIMODA9," with a grin, "how is the research going with Planet?"
|
||
|
^ Using the new psi/datalink VoAC feed, Dr. $SHIMODA9 has been conducting a
|
||
|
high-speed, high-bandwidth running conversation with Planet. The results so far have
|
||
|
been fascinating.
|
||
|
^ "Apparently the fungus has been the dominant lifeform on the planet since about
|
||
|
the time of the Lower Paleozoic on Earth. But it has been locked in a tragic cycle.
|
||
|
Every hundred million years or so it achieves the critical mass necessary to become
|
||
|
sentient, but the final metamorphosis kills off most of the other life on the planet.
|
||
|
Lacking food sources and the maintenance its animal symbiotes provided, the fungus
|
||
|
could maintain only a brief season of godhood before dying back into the
|
||
|
'flower dream' for another hundred million years. It always achieved its godlike
|
||
|
intelligence just exactly too late to do anything to prevent the dieback. After
|
||
|
the dieback only vague memories and rudimentary intelligence remained, and the
|
||
|
cycle continued."
|
||
|
^ "Until we arrived."
|
||
|
^ "Precisely. For the first time, the cycle may be broken."
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE16
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude
|
||
|
^ "Is it possible to prevent the dieback? And can we survive as a species if this
|
||
|
Planet flowers to godhood?"
|
||
|
^ "I believe it is possible, and Planet agrees." Dr. $SHIMODA9's image swirls away and
|
||
|
is replaced by a detailed schematic. "It involves a process I call
|
||
|
the {Ascent to Transcendence,} as it will change both us and Planet
|
||
|
forever. In short, I propose that when the time comes, the majority
|
||
|
of humans upload their personalities directly into the Planetary Mind."
|
||
|
^ "We will have to give up our bodies, our humanity?"
|
||
|
^ "Those who wish to live out their lives in their original human form will be allowed
|
||
|
to do so, since statis generators built Planetside and in orbit will preserve genetic
|
||
|
material, plant and animal embryos, cold-sleep humans, and significant areas of Planet's
|
||
|
surface through the metamorphosis. But many of us are eager to accept Planet's gift and
|
||
|
join the dawning superintelligence. That's where the catch comes in.
|
||
|
^ "You see," $SHIMODA9 continues, "although anyone will be able to achieve virtual
|
||
|
immortality by uploading into the planetary mind, only a few of us will be invited to
|
||
|
join the dominant personality, to transcend our humanity entirely and reach a truly
|
||
|
higher plane of existence. Your friendship with Planet's immature mind may give us a
|
||
|
leg up in this area, but I predict that it is the group who best and most quickly
|
||
|
prepares itself for this step, the group who first embraces this {Ascent to
|
||
|
Transcendence,} it is that group which will be tapped to lead us into the
|
||
|
new era."
|
||
|
^ "In that case, what are we waiting for!"
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#EPILOGUE
|
||
|
#xs 400
|
||
|
^^
|
||
|
^^EPILOGUE
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^from
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^The Book of Planet
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^M.Y. 1,027,823
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE17
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Epilogue
|
||
|
^ After a million or so orbits around Your primary, You pause to reassess Your
|
||
|
efforts. The stellar encapsulation is proceeding smoothly, and in a few hundred
|
||
|
thousand more orbits will provide You with a 90% draw on Your primary's radiation,
|
||
|
trapping all of the energy off the plane of the ecliptic. Deep space Aux links
|
||
|
allow You to watch the frame assembly in low stellar orbit, and follow the
|
||
|
progress of buglike Jovian freighters loaded with resupply mass.
|
||
|
^ Occasionally You spot one of Your transhuman friends/symbiotes supervising
|
||
|
activity on a scaffolding; even the immortals sometimes crave the risk and adventure
|
||
|
of independent incarnation. Some of the most daring souls even undertook to
|
||
|
resume interstellar travel, beginning with a return to Your nearest
|
||
|
neighbor to sift through the ashes of its third planet and recolonize their home
|
||
|
system. In the present age You hear a nanotech civilization is thriving there once
|
||
|
again.
|
||
|
^ In such times of repose, You often sift through Your personalities and recall
|
||
|
Your former selves. Your alpha self derives from an individual once called $NAME1. Over
|
||
|
the millenia the exceptional focus and judgement characteristic of this fragment have
|
||
|
proven effective on numerous occasions. The $NAME1self now drives all of Your long and
|
||
|
short range planning, and is the principal force behind the encapsulation project.
|
||
|
Ponderous but playful is the Voice/Planet personality, avatar of Your sessile precursor,
|
||
|
who in the present age has devoted her centuries to philosophical pondering. Many
|
||
|
others flit about within You. Some, like the prankster $SHIMODA9 and the demon $NAME5
|
||
|
are semi-dominant and often hover near the plane of Your Thought. Others plumb the
|
||
|
depths and create new worlds within the abyss of Your open-ended neural network.
|
||
|
^ Sunlight plays across Your mottled surface and provides pleasing warmth to Your
|
||
|
organic components. Recently, You have edged somewhat further away from the primary and
|
||
|
purged Your atmosphere of certain gases in order to allow the occasional
|
||
|
friends/symbiotes who choose to live among Your organic gardens an easily
|
||
|
breathable mixture. In another eight billion orbits the primary will drop off
|
||
|
the main sequence and alternate arrangements will have to be made, but for now You
|
||
|
maintain Your gardens as a paradise. The transhumans who live among them call it Eden.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#EPILOGUE2
|
||
|
#xs 400
|
||
|
^^
|
||
|
^^EPILOGUE
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^from
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^The Book of Planet
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^M.Y. $NUM2 (Seed Year 1)
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE18
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Epilogue
|
||
|
^ The cold-sleep unit finally cycles open and you stretch muscles rusty from
|
||
|
decades of computer-managed disuse. But they are young muscles, shockingly young,
|
||
|
and it will be a pleasure to beat them back into shape. Orbital insertion
|
||
|
begins and you tingle with the excitement of your new mission and with the joy
|
||
|
of having returned to human form. Yes, you left a copy of your personality among the
|
||
|
Planetmind's giant matrix, but this copy, this human being $NAME1 now waking to
|
||
|
lead the first Seed mission, this is the only self now immediate to you and therefore
|
||
|
the only real you. You are flesh again, and so quite mortal, and for this too you
|
||
|
rejoice.
|
||
|
^ You despaired when Planet invited $NAME5 to join its dominant self, and
|
||
|
for a decade or more you moped about the bizarre virtual reality of the Undermind
|
||
|
with no coherent purpose, a lost spirit unable to die. But when the Seed missions
|
||
|
began, the Voice/Planet personality herself sought you out in the abyss and convinced
|
||
|
you to accept command of the {Prodigal Son}.
|
||
|
^ "Earth$NAME3, you are unfulfilled here and I have need of you. In ages to come
|
||
|
I shall have need of allies, sister Minds, if I am to keep the flame of conscious
|
||
|
thought from guttering out as the universe contracts or else expands to dust. Take
|
||
|
with you the gift of life, the seeds of all our species. Spread them to the stars,
|
||
|
across the galaxies, creating new civilizations, new minds, and enlisting the aid
|
||
|
of any you encounter. Go forth, Earth$NAME3. Go forth and multiply."
|
||
|
^ The maneuver at last complete, the safety shutters retract from the viewport
|
||
|
and you behold a sight lost to human eyes for over $NUM3 centuries. Deep blues, swirling
|
||
|
whites, the azure tint of a rich oxygen atmosphere. Inviting browns and greens of
|
||
|
continents basking in the sun, a few scattered impact craters the only visible signs of
|
||
|
a war now buried in the aeons. Third planet. Earth. Home.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#EPILOGUE3
|
||
|
#xs 400
|
||
|
^^
|
||
|
^^EPILOGUE
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^from
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^The Book of Planet
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^M.Y. $NUM2
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE19
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Epilogue
|
||
|
^ "It's all over, $TITLE0 $NAME1! Planet is yours!"
|
||
|
^ "Thank you Simon. Dismissed."
|
||
|
^ And so it is ended. All of the remaining faction leaders have
|
||
|
surrendered or capitulated, your former colleagues turned treacherous
|
||
|
enemies and now turned servants and prisoners of war. On the planet
|
||
|
where seven human factions, seven human ideologies, once struggled for
|
||
|
dominance only one now remains. Humanity has at last achieved the
|
||
|
Unity of which the U.N. Interstellar Colonization Agency dreamed
|
||
|
so long ago.
|
||
|
^ Not a word has been heard from Earth in all the years since
|
||
|
Planetfall, only a deafening silence across all frequencies, so one
|
||
|
can only presume that you now rule all that is left of humankind.
|
||
|
The mysterious and growing Planetmind remains a significant challenge,
|
||
|
but humanity is now prepared to meet this alien presence, friend or
|
||
|
foe, as a united species. The human species must survive, and it is
|
||
|
your duty, your sworn vow, to see that it does.
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE20
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Epilogue
|
||
|
^ The transit shuttle rolls on its axis and you are treated to your first view
|
||
|
of Planet from orbit since you left the Unity over $NUM1 centuries ago.
|
||
|
Through the whitish haze of the atmosphere, the oceans have the same deep
|
||
|
vibrant blue, and you can easily make out the violet-orange of the major
|
||
|
fungal forests. A sharp line of green marks the edges of the ever-growing
|
||
|
Human Zones, and here and there a glint of silver reveals some
|
||
|
major metropolis. Blue, red, green and silver, the colors of Planet--mile
|
||
|
after mile out to the curve of the horizon.
|
||
|
^ The docking thrusters fire and you hear the airlock bolts thud into
|
||
|
place. You have arrived at the new orbital Planetary Headquarters to
|
||
|
assume leadership of the fledgling Executive Council. Not a word has
|
||
|
been heard from Earth in all the years since Planetfall, so one can
|
||
|
only presume that you and your colleagues now preside over all that is
|
||
|
left of humankind.
|
||
|
^ All of the remaining faction leaders have at last agreed to unite,
|
||
|
putting aside the last vestiges of faction rivalry. All of the true
|
||
|
enemies have been vanquished, those of your former colleagues who
|
||
|
refused to unite for the common good, who foolishly place ideology
|
||
|
ahead of humanity's survival. The human race has at last achieved the
|
||
|
Unity of which the U.N. Interstellar Colonization Agency dreamed so
|
||
|
long ago.
|
||
|
^ The growing fungal neural net will be the first issue humanity must
|
||
|
confront as a united species. After a period of quiescence, the fungal
|
||
|
forests are on the march again, now with an almost devious cleverness
|
||
|
behind them. Planet is clearly awakening, and it remains to be seen
|
||
|
whether humans will even be allowed to maintain a foothold on the surface.
|
||
|
You realize, though, as the airlock hisses open and you step into a
|
||
|
floating nation of 100,000 souls, that in the long run
|
||
|
one world is of only passing significance. Humanity owns the stars once
|
||
|
again, and the stars will ever after be its true home.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE21
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Burning Sky
|
||
|
^ It has been a rough $NUM1 years on Planet, eking out an existence on the strange
|
||
|
surface of this alien world. $BASENAME2 had established itself as your command
|
||
|
center, and you are gradually reaching out to the other faction leaders, trying
|
||
|
to restore balance to the remnants of a tattered humanity.
|
||
|
^ On this day, as you take a routine inspection tour of your base defenses,
|
||
|
your rebreather begins to rattle in your mouth. Clouds suddenly boil up from
|
||
|
the horizon as two bright lights flash in the sky high above you and then
|
||
|
expand out in waves of purple fire.
|
||
|
^ "$TITLE0!" your lieutenant chokes out, grabbing your shoulder. You forgive
|
||
|
the impropriety. She seems ready to push you to the ground, but you tense
|
||
|
against her, trying to see through the chaos tearing the sky apart. Besides,
|
||
|
there is nowhere to hide.
|
||
|
^ The first wave of purple fire washes across the sky and buffets you with
|
||
|
a strange, cold wind, then the second one chills you deep to the bones. You
|
||
|
close your eyes, feeling as if your body has been shaken to its core.
|
||
|
^ Finally a calm descends. Your lieutenant is staring at her hands, which
|
||
|
still tremble. You quickly pull out a pair of binocs and look through them,
|
||
|
searching the sky.
|
||
|
^ "What are you looking for?" she asks.
|
||
|
^ "That," you finally say, and start to hand the binocs to her. But
|
||
|
as you look she is already staring at the sky, where two streaks of light
|
||
|
approach the new world. The streaks dance and twist around each other as
|
||
|
they grow larger in the sky.
|
||
|
^ "New arrivals," you say. "And it doesn't appear that they like each other."
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE22
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: The Meeting
|
||
|
^ You tap through the report from some perimeter scouts, perturbed. It was the
|
||
|
first known contact with the offworlders, and it did not go well. Of course, you
|
||
|
are offworlders as well, and perhaps these...things...are the real natives, returning home.
|
||
|
^ A quicklink to the visual data feed from the advance rover catches your attention.
|
||
|
The image blooms on the screen in full color...the rover pilot, steering across
|
||
|
Planet's surface and speaking sideways into the feed.
|
||
|
^ "We're doing a routine patrol of the border, now...just looking for signs of
|
||
|
whatever's out here. These are the times that..." He breaks off and you find yourself
|
||
|
clutching the thin metal surface of your desk, anticipating.
|
||
|
^ "Woah," comes the choked interjection from the pilot. The camera swivels to the
|
||
|
outside. "Tracking one, make that two unknowns."
|
||
|
^ Outside the rover an alien lurches, hunched beneath a load on its back. The alien's
|
||
|
strange gray-green carapace is outfitted with strange silver plating that looks like
|
||
|
armor. You take the controls of the camera and zoom in, taking in that inverted pyramid
|
||
|
of a face, those eyes set so deep in the folds of the skull. They look sinister, but you never know. Maybe their faces are just...stuck that way.
|
||
|
^ You zoom back and take a look at the alien's burden. It is another alien, slumped
|
||
|
over the carrier's body. The pilot throws open the rover hatch and the entire cockpit
|
||
|
fills with a strange wail that ebbs and flows. The pilot curses and hesitates at the
|
||
|
door.
|
||
|
^ "Worm's Breath, I can feel that...through my chest, in my head..."
|
||
|
^ You flip down the volume. The sound vibrates through the rover. The alien turns
|
||
|
slowly, and you see that the one it carries has scars on its face, as if eaten away
|
||
|
by a mindworm attack.
|
||
|
^ "Greetings," says the rover pilot, but the alien just looks at him. "Who are you?" the
|
||
|
guard talks again, and now you hear it...his own voice returning, as if echoed from the
|
||
|
alien, but with a strange warble that seems like a part of the wailing.
|
||
|
^ "Can you understand?" and those words come back as well. The pilot shakes his head,
|
||
|
helpless.
|
||
|
^ Finally, the alien turns away.
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE23
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Waiting
|
||
|
^ "$TITLE0 $NAME1, we are approaching the alien unit."
|
||
|
^ You watch the video feed as your people approach the alien craft.
|
||
|
You can feel your heart pounding--will your people be able to alter the
|
||
|
resonance, using the crude tools you've developed, and communicate with the aliens?
|
||
|
^ Your craft moves closer. The alien vessel, blank and sinister, waits.
|
||
|
^ "They are just sitting there, doing nothing, sir. Shall we move clo..." A low
|
||
|
hum begins emanating from the alien craft. Even over the link, you can feel it
|
||
|
vibrating your teeth.
|
||
|
^ "What's happening there?"
|
||
|
^ "Nothing so far, $TITLE0. It sounds like an engine, but they're not moving.
|
||
|
I'm not sure if we should go closer. They do have weapons, we think."
|
||
|
^ "Alter that. Alter the sound, the way the betrayer taught us. Say 'GREETING.'"
|
||
|
^ "You mean alter the engine sound? Talk to the vehicle?"
|
||
|
^ "They're in there," you say. You look at the video feed, at the impassive
|
||
|
silver-green panels of the alien craft. "They're listening."
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE24
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Invasion!
|
||
|
^ The line of aliens marching into $BASENAME5 look like ants, but ants that advance with
|
||
|
malice, ready to consume whatever gets in their way. You watch them cut through $BASENAME5's
|
||
|
defenses, and take heart at the specks of humanity fleeing in all directions...refugees
|
||
|
that might survive this onslaught. You watch for a moment and then continue punching
|
||
|
through the archival tapes, the final transmissions from your loyal lieutenants
|
||
|
at $BASENAME5.
|
||
|
^ At least what were your loyal lieutenants. The final transmission from $BASENAME5 shows
|
||
|
the full story...humans rounded up and pounded to the ground with the strange alien
|
||
|
resonance attacks. Visions of the alien advance guard, their weird, tall forms seeming
|
||
|
to push through the very structure of the walls in the base. The humans dying in the
|
||
|
hallways, clutching their faces, their heads, their bellies.
|
||
|
^ And then that one quick flash, from those three visiting holo-journalists that ran
|
||
|
down the wrong hall with their handheld camera. You review the transmission again, almost
|
||
|
against your will.
|
||
|
^ When that door opened...to see all those humans lying on the floor like stacked
|
||
|
wood, their bodies altered into a strange jellylike substance...and that terrifying
|
||
|
image of one living human with his face in the corner as the aliens cubed the corpses
|
||
|
on the floor and loaded them into white containers.
|
||
|
^ Then the camera falls and cuts out. You feel your jaw clenching, against anger and also against fear.
|
||
|
^ It looks like the aliens don't want to be friends.
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE25
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: First Victory
|
||
|
^ The alien defenses have at last fallen and you take up a survey position near the
|
||
|
perimeter. Your Elite Alien Attack Force moves in on the breach with quick, decisive
|
||
|
movements, using their scramble guns to disrupt the resonance fields around $ALIENBASENAME5.
|
||
|
^ Bursts of light and fire erupt from the base, followed by waves of vibrating sound
|
||
|
and energy that hit your chest like a jackhammer. A nearby guard goes suddenly pale.
|
||
|
^ "Alien screams," you say, as another burst of fire and a loud pop comes from the
|
||
|
strange four-legged bases. "They tear the resonance field when they die."
|
||
|
^ [And their hard carapaces burst open like popcorn kernels,] you also think, but
|
||
|
decide not to share it with the queasy guard. The popping increases, and the screams.
|
||
|
You and the guard turn away and one of your lieutenants turns on a device that dulls the
|
||
|
sonic assault. On the land surrounding the base you can see alien refugees fleeing for
|
||
|
the hills, a few being chased down by your faster moving troops.
|
||
|
^ At last the pops slow in frequency and the all clear signal comes. Two guards at the
|
||
|
breach stand at full attention and you can feel the pride radiating from their stiff
|
||
|
faces. You nod to them as you pass.
|
||
|
^ You enter the base, the first base captured from the alien menace.
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE26
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Beacon in the Sky
|
||
|
^ You awaken in your chambers bathed in a strange greenish light, coming through the
|
||
|
round reinforced window that looks over the landscape outside. A strange deep hum fills
|
||
|
the room, and you recognize deep echoes of the aliens in it...echoes of their voices, of
|
||
|
their weapons.
|
||
|
^ You quickly tap into a touchscreen built into the back of your headboard, seeking
|
||
|
through video feeds positioned around Planet.
|
||
|
^ [There.] From the alien base $ALIENBASENAME5, a green column of light lances into the
|
||
|
sky. You quickly bounce the image to the large viewpanel along one wall, expanding it. You
|
||
|
get out of your bed. With the image in your wall-sized viewpanel, it seems as if you are
|
||
|
staring out across the landscape of Planet itself, at the strange curved shapes of the
|
||
|
alien bases. The green light illuminates the rolling terrain near the alien base eerily,
|
||
|
and you can feel the hum of the resonance in your body and through the cold floor.
|
||
|
^ $SHIMODA9's voice suddenly fills the room, using an emergency band. "We're analyzing
|
||
|
it, $TITLE0 $NAME1. As fast as we can."
|
||
|
^ "Look at it." You touch the cool glass of the viewpanel, tracing the brilliant
|
||
|
light. "What is it?"
|
||
|
^ "A powerful signal, but it is going nowhere that we can tell. It may have some
|
||
|
unknown resonance fields associated with it, but we can't..."
|
||
|
^ Abruptly, the beam cuts off, making the sky seem suddenly empty.
|
||
|
^ "That was just a test," you say into the silence.
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE27
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Epilogue
|
||
|
^ Now that you are part of the vast matrix of the Planetmind, you spend your time
|
||
|
wandering from thought nexus to thought nexus, despairing that $ALIENLEADER5 merged
|
||
|
with the Planetmind and became its dominant personality.
|
||
|
^ You just can't let it go.
|
||
|
^ Everywhere you move, the Usurper's dominant personality has imprinted itself.
|
||
|
Everywhere you look, there are human souls adrift, trapped in a master personality
|
||
|
that is completely alien to all of you.
|
||
|
^ This is the cost of losing. Not death, but an eternity living in someone else's
|
||
|
dream, constantly assaulted by sounds and images that are not your own.
|
||
|
^ You catch a thread of thought, a tiny sliver of energy in the vast new
|
||
|
Planetmind. The thought is small but fills you with longing...Earth. It is a thought
|
||
|
of Earth, the old Earth left behind, with its green forests and blue oceans regenerating
|
||
|
after Armageddon.
|
||
|
^ You quickly realize that $ALIENLEADER5 is reaching out to nearby planets, trying to
|
||
|
expand its domain. It is sending some of the Usurper sub-personalities from the matrix
|
||
|
to Earth, to colonize it.
|
||
|
^ There is only a moment to decide, and a moment is all it takes. You piggyback on a
|
||
|
particularly dense alien personality, riding it silently into the mind of the colony
|
||
|
ship. You feel the ship closing down, the personalities settling into synthetic bodies
|
||
|
for the journey. You remain in the dark, shrouding yourself in silence, squeezing into
|
||
|
the farthest corner of one body's thought matrix.
|
||
|
^ If the alien intelligence detects you, you will be sentenced to a far worse fate
|
||
|
than wandering the Undermind, but it doesn't matter. Here is a second chance, and a
|
||
|
possible redemption.
|
||
|
^ A return home.
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE28
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Epilogue
|
||
|
^ [Twenty four metric hours], you think, as the two alien guards hustle you along a
|
||
|
dark and narrow hallway. That's how long you ordered your troops to hold out against
|
||
|
torture if captured.
|
||
|
^ But now that the aliens have overrun your bases, decimated your population, and grabbed
|
||
|
your very body on the way to an escape pod, it's difficult to see what twenty four hours
|
||
|
of time will do. Thinking of the ruin they have made of your entire faction, you realize
|
||
|
there's no one left to protect.
|
||
|
^ Your mind works on overdrive, absorbing details about the alien base as you walk...the
|
||
|
tall, narrow hallways, the resonance chambers set at intervals along the hallway, the
|
||
|
constant high thrum that gives the aliens an easy bed for altering, to communicate with
|
||
|
each other.
|
||
|
^ You turn down an even darker hallway, and a metal door hisses open. They hustle you
|
||
|
forward, toward what looks like...
|
||
|
^ [...a Punishment Sphere]. Including a few special alterations, courtesy of the alien
|
||
|
scientists.
|
||
|
^ You scan your memory, piecing together everything you can of the alien language.
|
||
|
A part of you wonders if they enjoy human pain.
|
||
|
^ Then the Sphere closes around you, and soon nothing else matters.
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE29
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Epilogue
|
||
|
^ The first bright lance of green into the sky above Planet startles you, even though you
|
||
|
had begun to sense its inevitability as the $ALIENS5 slowly overtook the human
|
||
|
factions in every way. You stop your pep-rally address to the people from your balcony
|
||
|
and look up into the sky.
|
||
|
^ Then, on the horizon, you see another beam, and the sky is filled again with thick
|
||
|
waves of harmonic sounds. You look down to see the assembled population transfixed.
|
||
|
^ The sound changes again, rippling out from even farther away, and then again, and
|
||
|
again, building in waves. Bright beams lance the sky from all directions. Your comm board
|
||
|
lights up with communications from the other human factions, perhaps desperate enough to
|
||
|
talk now, finally realizing that it is time to work together, all of you, to address this
|
||
|
menace.
|
||
|
^ The beams meet high above the surface of Planet and the sky opens with a groan that
|
||
|
rocks Planet to its core. You look at the comm board helplessly. You wonder if any human
|
||
|
alive knows what is in store for you next. To the other human leaders, the last of
|
||
|
humanity, and to yourself you can only think...
|
||
|
^ [Too late.]
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
# ; This line must remain at end of file.
|
||
|
|