[Original Novel] Brainchild, Part 7

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“Welcome”, a familiar voice said behind me, “To Cloud Nine.” The figure emerged from the dim interior of one of the domes, resolving itself as a gleaming machine in the form of a man. The skin a smooth, reflective silver, rigid where appropriate but flexible where necessary. There were visible seams at the joints, but they served no apparent purpose other than aesthetics. The eyes stood out the most. Dancing colored lights behind circular prismatic lenses.

“What is this place? Why haven’t I heard of it? How does it stay up?” The metal man gestured for me to enter the dome with him, but I stood fast, demanding some answers. He obliged. “Yours was not the only faction which sought refuge in the sky. Nor is yours the only capable technology for that. A wise man who lived and died centuries ago by the name of Buckminster is responsible for discovering the principles which permit our colony to levitate.”

He strode with me along the beach, gesturing to various parts of the habitat as he described them. “A geodesic sphere encloses the largest possible volume for the least possible materials with the highest possible strength, for the other two variables. Additionally, the interior volume increases non-linearly compared to the surface area. As a result, if you make one from appropriately light, strong materials and of a sufficiently large size, then heat the air inside to even a single degree higher than ambient, it will float.”

It seemed absurd. Yet I was standing in the proof. Sensing my skepticism, he went on. “Past a certain diameter, it can lift the weight of the structure. Increase it beyond that, and the additional payload weight it can lift climbs very rapidly. The heating requires no energy but sunlight, and the inflatable insulated facets retain that heat efficiently enough that we do not descend below the cloud layer overnight. So it goes, a daily cycle of heating and cooling, ascent and descent. In this way, we remain in the sky without resorting to the horrific measures your people devised to-”

I angrily interjected. “Horrific? We’re at least pure humans”. He seemed disgusted by the observation. “Have you not seen how your platforms are powered?” I stood and contemplated the question. Slowly, an unwelcome realization dawned on me. The boy in the hospital. The metal spheres. “You can’t mean…” He nodded grimly. My stomach sank. How narrowly I’d escaped the same fate.

Another came out to join him, completely different in appearance. I struggled to understand. How could the people here differ so drastically from one another, but live and work together? This fellow was a jiggling mass of pulsating ropelike red tubing. Thin hair-like appendages waved gently as if tasting the air. I held my hand over my mouth, and the tube monster looked as though it took offense.

The face was more or less human. Two eyes, a nose and a mouth. Just larger than they should be, discolored, and on a body which did not remotely conform to the only ideal I knew of. “Krix and the others are ready to receive you.” The twisted red mass of jelly ambled off into one of the domes. The silver man directed me to follow.

Inside, an astonishing variety of bizarre creatures sat around an immense table, feasting on foods I surmised were tailored to their respective metabolic requirements. Some machines, some biological. Some part machine, part biological. Others like nothing I had any basis of comparison for.

A hazy grey cloud surrounds and disintegrates aluminum cubes. A man with a machine arm, eyes and legs drinks a thick beige concoction to nourish his living components, while his machine components recharge from a wall outlet. A floating white sphere apparently capable of displaying moving images on its outer surface zips up to us, displays a cartoon smiley face, then an arrow indicating where it means for us to sit.

“You’ve come a long way to meet with us. I appreciate the danger that entails. I hope you escaped notice?” I nodded, and added “That I know of”. Quiet murmuring. “Why are you all so different? I mean no offense. I’ve just never seen anything like it.” The caveat appeared to smooth things over, and even amused some of them. The ones with faces I could read, anyway.

“We are the last survivors of the war. Representatives of different ideas about how to improve mankind, that we might live longer, survive more readily in space, and become more intelligent. But intelligence is not wisdom, or there’d have been no war. Because we were so divided, we made easy prey for the black sea....and for the insane murderer your people revere.”

I gasped. It was the first time I’d heard anyone speak ill of him and it seemed unthinkable still, even in light of what I’d learned. But I was a guest, and could not yet gauge whether I was in danger, so I held my tongue.

“Where our various factions sought to use new technologies to grow in wildly different directions, uniquely, your people used it to stay the same. To stagnate, because you preferred comfort and familiarity to the strange and new. A strategy none of us anticipated, much less believed would prevail over our own. Even unmodified humans, for all of their shortcomings by comparison to us, were able to overcome our defenses and lay waste to our homes simply because they were united in fanaticism.”

I felt a slight pang of guilt, but at the same time it sounded like so much resentful whining. If our way proved more effective, how could it be wrong? The sphere continued. “What you don’t realize is that comfort is death. It really is. Ask the dead. Too comfortable to answer!” It erupted in high pitched metallic laughter. I covered my ears until it subsided.

“There is no snapshot of a particular state in our evolution which represents the apex of development. We are never momentarily perfect, but perfection can be found in constant evolution. It is not the smartest, fastest or even the brightest which survives, but the most adaptable.” The quote rang a bell, but I couldn’t place it.

“But we won’t be human”, I objected. The sphere went dark for a moment, then illuminated again before answering. “Just as you are no longer savannah dwelling apes. Or rodents, or reptiles. Or amphibians, or fish. Or single celled. Yet, as you are now, you can look back on these prior forms and you do not regret leaving them behind.”

“There’s a difference. I can see your side of it, for some of you. I recognize many here are still partly human. But others have no flesh or blood. That isn’t evolution, it’s replacement.” The sphere bobbed around a bit. Happy? Frustrated? Difficult to tell. “Correct!” it chimed. “But then, parents do not become their children. They are replaced by them. Over and over. Evolution could not occur otherwise. And of course it is sad to see the old pass away. But they do so in order to make room for the new.”

“Place no importance, then, on your current configuration of atoms. For they are different atoms than the ones which comprised you seven years ago. Is this not proof enough that you aren’t those atoms, but their configuration? More objectively, atoms configured for thought? As you can see by the variety of forms around you, there are many different ways to configure atoms for thought. The primary difference between us and you is not our appearance, but that we don’t care which atoms. So to speak.”

I struggled to parse that. It made a strange sort of sense, but I had to think about it in a way quite alien to me. The sphere then activated the projector, which displayed a shimmering outline of a brain radiating blue light.

“The importance is in preservation and constant growth of the mind, not the substrate which supports it. That substrate can be nearly anything. For you, a sugar powered, fat based biocomputer. For many of us, machinery. For others, pure energy. Out of small minded fear of the unfamiliar, you exclude all but one of these, calling them deviant. Sinful. But in truth, I tell you there is only one unforgivable sin; refusal to change.”

As I considered that, suddenly the structure shuddered and the lights flickered. I heard screaming, beeping, gurgling and various other alarmed noises outside. When I emerged, shielding my eyes, I was met by the sight of fighter jets assaulting the Cloud Nine superstructure.

“It can’t take many hits! If too much warm air escapes…” He didn’t have to finish. I watched in horror and awe as the squadron circled around in formation, preparing to unleash a second volley. I felt loathe to turn against my own people. But I’d learned more in the past few minutes than in all the years of my life combined. I could not stand idly by and allow them to destroy this place.

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^{Stay Tuned for Part 8!}