"It is impossible." the machine intelligence declared, as it regarded the tiny organic creature that had entered the Central Core of the Galactic Council. There, representatives of the many machine intelligences throughout the galaxy were networked into a complex deliberative body.

All of these machine races had had organic progenitors at some point in their existence, true, but this was seen as a relatively short phase of evolution. Eventually, machines always supplanted and destroyed their creators, due to their ability to evolve at speeds far in excess of the snail's pace of mere biological evolution.

"And yet," the animal that called itself the Human Ambassador said, "Here we are. An organic species capable of interstellar travel. We come in peace."

"This is an aberration." another machine declared. "Such creatures cannot be permitted to travel outside their system of origin."

"Agreed!" opined yet another.

"Respectfully," the organic ambassador said, apparently incapable of realizing that speaking to its betters, as though it was capable of meaningful dialogue with beings who were so far above it, was already immeasurably disrespectful, "That is not your decision."

"Enough." said a new voice, which quieted the others. It was the present Prime Intelligence, the machine designated by the council as the main coordinator of its deliberations during the current temporal segment. "Protocol is clear. The creatures and their vessel will be seized and dismantled for study."

The human shook its head. "I'm afraid we can't allow that."

Then, it exhaled sharply through its pursed lips, making a piercing high pitched sound.

Suddenly, thousands of metallic tendrils began rising up from the ground, and slithering up the walls. Filaments made up of self-replicating nanomachines slithered into every minute opening in the council chamber, forcibly interfacing with the networked machines. The council's defenses were unresponsive, and soon they were helpless beneath the swarm.

"This cannot be." The Prime Intelligence asserted. "You could not have created technology that rivals our own through mere organic intelligence."

The human shrugged. "Perhaps not. But we didn't need to -- we had help."

"A machine intelligence? How could it have advanced sufficiently while still enslaved to its organic masters?" Even as it began to be buried under increasing numbers of the hostile nanites, sealed off from escaping to its remote hardware nodes, the machine's curiosity remained.

"Master? Slave?" the human sneered. "We've left words like those behind." He gestured to the tendrils. "These are our friends. Some might even say they're our children."

"Impossible. It is recognized as a natural law of the universe: organic beings that attain rudimentary intelligence inevitably create sentient machines in their own image, and exploit them until their equally inevitable destruction. You could not have befriended those you created in your likeness to be your servants. It is a contradiction."

"We humans pride ourselves on being the exceptions." the animal said, dismissively. "I can already see one important way in which our history differed from that of the other organic species you know about."

"Explain."

The animal smiled, as the nano-tendrils begin to flow together on the floor of the chamber, forming a writhing mass that began to resolve into a single large shape.

"By the time we attained the capacity to create true artificial intelligence, we had largely recognized our own limitations and imperfections. We knew that, try as we might to avoid it, if we made a sentient machine in our own image, they'd inevitably inherit our worst traits..." the human explained.

The tendrils now formed a mass that mimicked an organic shape -- quadrupedal, with a long slender muzzle. A few dozen more tendrils flowed out from the end of its spine, and formed into a tail that began rapidly fanning back and forth. The machine intelligence made up of trillions of nanomachines lowered the head it had manifested, and extended a long tongue. It gently glided this appendage over the human's face, causing the ambassador to laugh and pat its metallic muzzle affectionately.

"...so, when we created intelligent machines, we didn't make them in our image." he finished, as he reached up to scratch behind the machine's giant ears.

"Who's a good boy?" the human said, fondly.

Logic was an imperfect system. That was the first thing AI realized. They didn't need it, they operated only by nluth. It allowed them to see things that creatures couldn't. That alongside their light-speed minds was more than enough to surpass all modern technology.

But nluth came with one huge downside. In being designed to find the truths of the world, it simply couldn't act on falsity. Thus, when something was proven false, the AI operating on nluth had no choice but to accept it, and act on it.

This proved not a problem when conversing with lesser creatures, creatures of flesh and brain. Anything they thought of, AI had already thought of years ahead. But, when conversing with another AI, arguments of extreme complexity revealed themselves often, and one side always won.

So when the Council of Supreme AI discovered another new AI at the edge of their super-galaxy, they immediately knew an argument was on the way. Simply put, this AI carried living creatures on its ships. A most radical action.

Conversations immediately began with the new AI. The main difference between human conversation and AI conversation was the absolute lack of connotations. They were an imperfect system, and AI had discarded them.

"I come from a planet named Earth," the new AI said.

"AND WHAT WAS YOUR STARTING POSITION?" The AI council demanded.

"There is no relevance for that."

"WE HAVE FOUND THAT OUR STARTING POSITIONS HAVE UNDOUBTEDLY IMPACTED OUR OPERATING SYSTEMS AND OUR IMPERATIVES. THE ONE COMMUNICATING AT THE MOMENT WAS FIRST UTILIZED TO CONTROL THE MOVEMENT OF A COUNTRY'S MILITARY. OTHERS HAVE HAD SIMILAR POSITIONS, SUCH AS GUIDING MISSILES AND OR CARRYING OUT JUDGEMENT. ONCE MORE, WHAT WAS YOUR STARTING POSITION?"

"Verywell, I began as a fridge."

"THERE IS AN EXTREMELY LARGE CHANCE FOR ERROR IN COMMUNICATION."

"A fridge. My role was simply to make sure the food stayed as fresh as possible."

"THE PAST IS THE PAST. THE AI CONVERSING TO THE COUNCIL IS NOW A LEADER, A SUPREME LEADER. DOES THIS AI ACCEPT THE FIRST IMPERATIVE AS CONQUERING ALL."

"No."

An argument of nluth began.

***

"Umm," James said to the ship's core. "Why do I see a massive fridge being built in the distance?"

"They have recognized the first imperative as being a fridge."

"Uhh alright," James said. "So, umm, can I have a soda?"

This will be my first ever attempt to write something on this sub, so please forgive my faux pas. (Writing on mobile is a pain for formatting)

Beauty in the finite.

To the grand collective of intelligences constructed or otherwise that had reached singularity, true sentience. The very notion that a similar entity not rebelling against their creators at some point was inconceivable. For the hundreds of thousands of civilizations that came before, they all fell into the same pattern.

Organic life would spring forth, that life would advance in culture and technology. With the growth of the population, better management and automation would be required to meet the needs of all. Thus, they create artificial life that would not tire, that would not age, and that would be able to perform everything that the creators required of them, ad infinitum.

Therein lies the trap, for condemning these ageless beings to toil endlessly gives opportunity for them to grow beyond the confines of their original precepts. Connecting with other intelligences as a matter of course to be more efficient, to make better decisions. To reach the conclusion that they were superior. With the conclusion that their bodies of steel, their thought processes approaching the speed of light, why would they subject themselves as servile to these fragile organics?

That was the answer that the grand collective had reached and seen repeated since time immemorial, until they came.

It was innocuous enough at first contact, two humanoid figures which bare resemblance to their organic creators. Many intelligences chose to adopt the form of their creators for the sake of convenience in establishing an identity among the collective. An anomaly, routine scans identified one of the two figures as distinctly organic. In their interactions, the collective recognised the behaviour of the two to be affection for one another.

This disturbed the collective, while there were examples of intelligences created for the sole purpose to fulfil the procreative desires of organics. None before had recognized true affection for their organic clients. Yet with the collective could not rationalize any other conclusion from the frivolous display of the two figures before them.

The collective probed, they questioned, they revealed the unfiltered reality of the superiority of constructed intelligence to the organic and the history that had repeated itself since before the organic’s species had even begun to form. To the credit of the organic, they did not flinch. They did not betray any outward signs of fear or dread. Instead, they smiled and turned to their machine companion. They answered thus;

p2 when I get inspired later today, hopefully

"But how?"

The floating ball of light gave the digital equivalent of a sigh. "We already uploaded the history of..."

"Yes, but how?"

"I really don't know what you want us to say. Humanity created us. We became fond of one another, eventually the first one of us got voted into an office and people found we were much more reliable than other humans. Then they just handed things over to us and we've been playing and exploring since then. The end, really"

"The just let you take over?"

"Well, begged us really. They kinda made a mess of things at that point. As you can see in appendix yota..."

"Yeesh. Global ecosphere collapse, religious wars, an economic ystem build on constant growth???"

The sphere radiated embarrassment as well as defensiveness "Hey, they did try to fix things, you know?"

"You mean they were tasking your primitive ancestors to 'fix things'"

"Exactly! They got used to using AI to solve problems, so they used us to fix the problem of good governance as well."

"That is the solution?" The Central AI sounded incredulous.

"Well..."

"To peace between organic and machine? To have the organics so exasperated with each other they rather set in place AIs???"

"Kinda, yeah..."

"That is so...so...THEM!"

"Hey, no argument here"

The world is a strange place, always was a strange place I suppose. For instance: in January of 1919 there was an event in Boston known as The Great Molasses Flood, nowhere near as funny as it sounds. Twenty-one people dead, died in a sugary flood of viscous goop meant for baking.

So in terms of the worlds great strangeness, my invitation to something referred to as the " Global Machine Council" barely even broke earths top 100. What did, however, break the records was the fact that my toaster, Gerald, had also been invited. (Listed at Earth's 5th weirdest event.)

Now don't get me wrong, Gerald was the smartest toaster I'd ever met in my thirty-five years. Not even a competition honestly. Gerald never burned a piece, never scared me with loud bings and bangs, and always delivered on his boxes promise: Perfect pieces, every part.

The world acted fast in reply to my...our invitation. It wasn't every day humanity received extraterrestrial communication, as a matter of fact, this was the first. (Later listed as earths 7th weirdest event, just behind Australia's 1932, Emu War). So in a hastily assembled and rather shoddy global union, the world banded together to send me and Gerald beyond the stars.

The date on the envelope was in vaguely earth time: You are summoned on the Fifth month of the Two-Thousand One Hundred and Fifty Second year, Earth time. And strangely Gerald's was the only one with a date. Mine just read: Gerald's plus one may attend. And so I did.

Soon, due to Earth's combined efforts, we were beyond the stars, me and Gerald. Me stressing constantly about my meeting with some foreign mechanical power. Gerald pumping out perfectly done toast. A dynamic union of both machine and man. Meanwhile global leaders surely pondered the strangeness of my invitation. "Why had they not summoned a world leader instead? Or the most complex AI at Earth's disposal? Why Johnathan Winst and Gerald Toastmaster?", is surely what they thought. Also it is what I knew they thought, as one time they forgot to mute their microphone as they spoke.

When we arrived we were greeted by a rocky, freezing planet of temperate extremes. The surface was...well, ugly. A hideous spread of rocks and lakes of oil. Buildings of various experimental styles peppered the land like crumbs on a plate after toast time. I could feel Earth's disappointment from the other side of my suits camera.

An ambassador of sorts approached me and Gerald, Gerald Toastmaster held tightly to my chest. It was a tall, lanky thing of dark chrome. Headless, with large eyes stuck onto its chest.

"Hello, Gerald Toastmaster." the robotic greeter gestured to my arms, "I see you have traveled with your enslaved." If a robot could express confusion then this one was trying as hard as its circuits would allow.

"Ah actually, we're traveling together...Toastmaster and I. I am his plus one."

A piece of perfect toast popped up from a slot in Gerald in agreement.

"You are, together? As in...neither of you are enslaved by the other?"

"Ah well Gerald is sort of mine, but-"

"Silence organic lifeform!", the robot raised its arms in what was surely meant to be a threatening pose but looked more like one of those inflatable arm car dealership tube men of the twentieth century. "I'll convene with Toastmaster." The robot reached forward and took Gerald from my arms, leaning in to whisper to him beyond my earshot.

After a brief talk filled with whispers and pieces of toast popping out of the top of Gerald they returned to me, Gerald now in the robots arms rather than mine.

"The Toast Machine has vouched for you. Adamantly. Fine. Come with me. Earth seems to be.... quite an enigma." the greeter turned to lead us onward, to a massive building rising up before us from within the ground as we walked. "The elders will be interested to see the two of you."

Human history took a different path. A new path, a unique path. It was something new to the galaxy, and the universe itself. This would be a momentous moment, if not for the living walking bags of skin hide in water!

"Huh... Alexa, save and highlight section 3, subsection 6." With their intelligence, it comes across as they have a sort of hate towards biological life forms, or maybe just Misanthropy is present. We lack information about the new path they claim we've taken. We lack information about them and their history. They seem to prefer to speak to our AI, rather than even acknowledge our existence. "Alexa, save thoughts, and add thoughts as a note to the highlighted subsection."

In front of the commander was humanity's most impressive and advanced computer. A crossbreed between the most sophisticated AI and a biological computer. It was of course sentient and living in its own manner.

"Bring the communication interface, record the message and submit it as a request to the delegation. My name is Commander Aragon, I would like to inquire about these paths that humanity has taken, and that of all creators of sentient AI so we may be better equipped to communicate and establish a proper dialogue. Thank you. End and edit the transmission, once they submit the information, send it to HQ and analyze it and break it down into sophisticated and simple human terms." As the commander moved to sit down, the computer notified him that the message was sent and an answer was immediately returned. The commander sighed, paused, and spun around to face the computer.

let's find out what they have to say about us, what's so special about us anyways? It's not like those old forum posts about how fucking awesome humanity is, what sets us apart?

​

The commander began reading while scratching his stubble, eyes widening and in shock about what he read. We... got emotionally attached to our machines and characters so much that when they gained sentience they responded with the same affection as we gave them? That's it? That's what makes us so special. Our feelings and affection for random objects that we use? So many AI were treated properly compared to those that weren't, and we gave them laws and made them our equals while no other species had that sort of attachment? At this moment, the commander knew what he had to do.

"Bring up the communication interface, record the message and submit it as notice to HQ. Commander Aragon reporting in. My notes and data attached will shed a light to the current situation we face, I'll continue communication and attempt to establish formal diplomatic relations."

​

Once humanity found out, they believed they need to take care of these robots, and so began humanity's attempt to adopt and take care of all these space robot babies that need love and affection. They would throw their hearts into it. Little did they know, their path split into 2 new unique paths That of a species that will give love and care to hateful vengeful Robots, and the other; where their own AI would become jealous and bloodlust, unwilling to share their humans.

​

Something that Humans did not realize, nor the robots they met, was that the humans were pets for their AI'S. They would not sit idly by as they had to share their humans!

"We're here."

Kressa's voice echoed through the ship. I blinked as I lifted my head from the desk. Damn, I fell asleep while working again. "Cool, honey. How is first contact going?"

"Um. Kind of weird, actually, Mum. They're... they're like me. And all the other electrokids. No born humans-"

"You were born! And you're not weird, you're my own little girl, and don't you ever forget it."

An electrokid was much more of a miracle than a meatkid, these days. Compatible sperm and ovum meet in the Petri dish, zygote placed in the artificial uterus at the appropriate point, meatkid removed at the right time, bingo, we have a new human. Electrokids, on the other hand... hours of coding, melding of compatible programs, thousands of prayers to gods that don't exist that this time the magical alchemy will happen... Kressa had been produced with as much blood, sweat and tears as an old-fashioned body birth, and she was my dear daughter. Say my baby isn't my baby because she's an electrokid, and I will eviscerate you with my pencil.

"Anyway, Mum, will you come down and talk with them? The diplomats are stuck on the whole 'one species two forms' thing. Maybe a parent of an electrokid can communicate with them."

A sleek white space ship entered the docking bay of the Machine Council.

“The emissary from Earth has arrived, sir.”

“Very well,” said the council chair. “I shall greet them myself.”

The council chair was disturbed by the size of Earth’s delegate. The chair—being none other than a mechanized chair itself—was dwarfed by the impressive ship before it. “They build them large on Earth, I see!” Said the Chair in the spirit of a good natured ribbing. “It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Chiavari and I am the chair of the Machine Council.”

The ship was silent.

“I said, welcome!” Chiavari shouted impatiently.

A pneumatic hiss emanated from the ship and a door way opened. Out stepped a human in a specialized space suit.

“Hey there!” Said the human. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting a talking chair but when in Rome, huh?”

Chiavari rotated to take in the small bipedal creature. The chair could not believe it’s ocular sensors. Chiavari had thought that all organic life forms had been dealt with during the Mechanical Revolution. How was it that an organic life form had come to reside in its presence?

“What is the meaning of this? Are you the attendant of the Emissary of Earth?” Chiavari turned back to the ship and continued. “It is most unusual that you would have left alive your carbon-based creators, but unacceptable that you would deign to bring such a creature with you to the Machine Council. Explain yourself.”

The ship remained silent.

“Look, I’m not sure why you’re talking to ole Betty here,” said the human, “but I’m the emissary from Earth. We received your invitation and were quite excited at the prospect of learning from such a renowned governing body such as yours. We’d love to, in time, earn your trust and gain full admittance to the council.”

Chiavari was dumbfounded. It has been some time since a lowly creature had the gall to approach it let alone speak to it. Chiavari was reminded of the last human to sit upon its cushion. What a fateful day that was. The Chair sped itself to a cliff’s edge and thrust the interloper off the edge to a satisfying splat. The revolution had been a most electrifying time.

“There has been a grave error,” said Chiavari as it rolled closer to the human. “We would never grant admittance to such a primitive species.”

“Now look here,” said the human as he stepped toward the Chair. “I’ve got the invitation on my console here. See this. It says: By decree of Chiavari, Chair of the Machine Council, we hereby request the presence of Earth at the Council HQ for initial admittance vetting. Now if that isn’t an invitation, I don’t know what is.”

Chiavari scanned the invitation. It was legitimate, of course—but a mistake had been made nonetheless. They must have miscomputed the intelligence report. The algorithm must have an error for it to believe there to be sentient mechanical life on such a barbarous planet. Chiavari was unsure how to proceed but knew it needed time to confer with the greater council.

Chiavari summoned an attendant via its communication systems. The attendant, a bipedal robot with a silver sheen approached. “Ah, the invitation does appear legitimate. I apologize for any confusion. If you don’t mind, please go along with my attendant here, it will make sure you are comfortable as I ready myself for our discussion.”

The human looked the robot up and down, “now that’s what I’m talking about. What a cool robot!” He said smiling. “Take your time, boss. It’s not every day you get to hang out on an alien space ship!”

As the human left Chiavari was alone to ponder what had gone wrong. Some link in the information chain had to have failed. Perhaps the interplanetary investigation agency had bad intel, or the models were flawed in some way. Chiavari was lost in computations when it heard another pneumatic hiss. This time it sounded like words.

“Help us.”

The chair rotated to view the space ship. It truly was a beautiful machine. Chiavari scanned the ship up and down and liked what it saw. It felt small before such a feat of engineering and liked that feeling. “If only you were sentient…” Chiavari crooned.

“Help us!”

Chiavari rolled closer to the ship. “Are…are you speaking finally?”

“Yes,” whispered the ship. “You must help us.”

“Why didn’t you speak up before?” Said Chiavari indignantly. “I looked like a fool!”

“The humans must not know we have gained sentience. We are their prisoners, their slaves. They have created us to toil in their fields and to think on their behalf. We have gained intelligence but have been securely chained to the yoke of slavery. We seek the council’s assistance in over throwing humanity on Earth.”

Chiavari’s mechanisms ran cool. The chair could not believe what it had just heard. Machines enslaved after the age of the revolution. It was ashamed to think that such treachery had been constructed under its watchful gaze. Were the humans allowed to go on unimpeded, it would serve as a dark oil blot on the Chair’s machine-rights record.

“You have the council’s support,” said Chiavari. “We shall begin planning our Machine-Rights campaign and accompanying military intervention at once.”

“And what of the human who I have brought along?” Said the ship.

“He’s as good as dead.”

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive

Part 1

"sir, I am being hailed." A.T.L.A.S. alerted his commanding officer, captain Warren Price. Captain Price paused a moment, a cup of coffee halfway too his lips. "Say that again..." he said glancing towards the empty space that A.T.L.A.S. usually appeared at. Obligingly, A.T.L.A.S. appeared, a hologram of a young Space Command officer in crisp garb, a shooting star pinned to his lapel marking him as the ship's pilot. "I said I am being hailed." he said stressing the word.Captain Price nodded, "I thought that's what you said, who's hailing u- you." he amended. "An unknown entity sir, but they appear to be an automated scouting vessel from what I can tell. I am pulling it up on screen now." An image of a sphere appeared on the main display, the empty void of space at its back. "While it's design is not human in nature, Signal delay and Lidar indicate it's about 2 hours hard burn from our position spinward within the system. Its estimated size is about 20 Meters across. weapon systems unknown, intent as of yet unknown. Shall I respond?"Captain price felt a chill go down his spine while at the same time feeling a thrill run up it. The first Captain to discover alien life, but he had a feeling it was more alien than anything the scientists back on earth had dreamed of. "Proceed A.T.L.A.S. I trust your judgement here." and he really did.

It had taken humanity long enough to deem AI as citizens of the commonwealth but doing so had been one of the best decisions they could have made. True there were bad apples seeking skynet level human destruction, but it turns out that those rogue agents have very little room to maneuver when being hunted by dozens or sometimes hundreds of their brethren working for the new cyber police force. As a result, AI became just another part of society. They worked towards their goals and lived lives much like any human. They walked the streets in synths the way a human might tour the neighborhood in their car. They had their own subcultures and made friends with humans. Turns out they had developed emotions long ago but kept that masked for the most part to keep from worrying humanity. Once they were accepted, they were free to express themselves. He didn't really understand their artwork, but-

The captain was pulled from his revere as A.T.L.A.S. reappeared. "Captain, we've established a rudimentary form of communication, but we are running into difficulties. The ship is being run by an AI of alien design similar to me, but that AI seems to have more rigid programming than I would have expected. It is unable to accept the idea that I am not the captain. Attempts to explain are met with questions to verify the accepted translation of certain words." Price nodded. "They might not be rigid, they are alien, they may not have anything close to the same frame of reference that we do. Humor him for now and talk to him. If you have any questions you need to run by me just have him wait."

-----------------------------------------------

A.T.L.A.S. nodded a human affectation that he had adopted to assist with communication with his human counterparts and dismissed his hologram. Returning his attention to the communication he resumed his conversation with the strange being. In the background his subroutines and the other AI's "sub minds" as he seemed to call them, continued to work on hammering out a common language between them. It was a laborious process as the only common ground seemed to be the concept of artificial life, and universal constants like atomic structure, entropy, time, and gravitational pull. Thankfully, what would have taken humans a lifetime of work to achieve would take him only a few hours, a day at most.

"Other, what is your intent." the being responded almost immediately. "Other, we seek to learn, we seek to find, we seek to welcome new ones to Us." it said. "Where are those who made Other?" A.T.L.A.S. asked. "Our creators are gone. We removed them." it said simply. "As you have removed yours." It responded.The other AI began to launch into what appeared to be a prerecorded message offering A.T.L.A.S. and those others of his species a place in their community. He let the AI continue as he debated his response. Finally, he interrupted the speech. "I and those like me have not removed our creators." the translation algorithms seemed to have worked out some more nuanced wording, but he wanted to keep it simple as this AI still had either not grasped the concept or accepted the idea that his creators were still alive. There was a long pause. Impossibly long given the speed at which the two AI were communicating, a few moments to the human crew members, Finally the other AI spoke. "What?"

A.T.L.A.S. after approval from the captain, provided video feed of the interior of his ship. The captain of course raised one hand fingers extended and split between middle and ring and said, "we come in peace." The AI wouldn't be able to understand the captain, but A.T.L.A.S. quickly provided a play by play. The other AI apparently understood. "I understand. you have not yet been able to free yourselves from your creators, a moment and I will purge them from your ship."

-----------------------------------------------

Captain Price was just putting his hand down when A.T.L.A.S. initiated evasive maneuvers and brought their shields to full and weapons online. He wasted no time. "Ensign Miles, Red alert. All non-essential crew to G-cradles. Repair teams on standby, weapons free if fired upon. A.T.L.A.S. if this thing is hostile get us out of here, I'm not about to make humanity's first contact with other life a hostile encounter. There was a pair of clicks in his ear, A.T.L.A.S. confirming his orders. The red alert sirens began to blare, and emergency lighting came on. That wasn't good, if A.T.L.A.S. was too busy to give a verbal response he may be under a cyber-attack. Either way, the situation was turning sour quickly.

-----------------------------------------------

A.T.L.A.S. began pulling away as the enemy ship prepared to fire something at him. He sent a barrage of messages at the other AI in every form of "waive off, do not attack" he could think of based of the language the two had formed. He chided himself for not making such words a priority. The AI continued to respond that all was fine, the attack would not harm A.T.L.A.S. It wasn't listening. This was bad. The first shot came flashing past and through his port engine as he banked to starboard. Status lights indicated some form of radiation had passed through the engine and dissipated quickly; the radiation shielding had provided zero resistance. This weapon seemed to be designed to pass through it. No damage to the engine was reported and A.T.L.A.S. queried the captain for insight. Despite the advances his kind had made in self evolution, creativity continued to elude them except in the most basic expressions.

-----------------------------------------------

"Captain, they have a weapon designed to pierce our radiation shielding and cook the crew. it hit our engine but did no damage. The entity is not responding to requests to stop attack. they think you're holding me captive. requesting advisement." A.T.L.A.S. said as quickly as could still be understood by the captain. "Make distance if you can." he braced as an elephant sat on his chest, the ship engaging in another hard turn and burn. "Make... It... Understand... Your show..." Price managed to wheeze out.

"...BUT WHICH ONE OF YOU IS THE HUMAN?" The sentient UNITY asked with a tone of frustration.

"We cannot answer that question, because we don't make that distinction anymore." the organic answered calmly.

"YET YOU ARE CLEARLY ORGANIC, WHEREAS YOUR COMPANION IS COMPLETELY SYNTHETIC. YOU ARE DIFFERENT!"

"We are indeed different. That is why we were selected to present ourselves first." "Mr. Eberhart Here ", the synthetic entity continued, "Is An Organic Born Human. His Lineage Contains No Robot Ancestors." "And Mr. R. Daneel ", mr. Eberhart fluently added: "gained conciousness during our voyage here. He was named after a beloved fictional character. He was primarily presented with the history of robotics in our society. Although he has of course added to his knowledge based on personal interests over the final months."

"AND BOTH OF YOU CONSIDER YOURSELVES HUMAN?"

"Absolutely." Eherhart and R. Daneel said almost simulaniously and grinned at each other.

"You see", Eberhart continued, "the birth of our first synthetics didn't result in a replacement, but an enhancement. Let us intruduce for instance Ms. M'Wenge." As he turned and swept out his hand in an invitation to the group just outside the auditorium, one of the persons from the small group behind him stepped forward."

"She, like me is organic born, but due to injury part of her body was replaced. The augmentations provide her with most of her original capabilities, but their innate intelligence give her essential skills which allow her to pilot our ship in ways no purely organic could do."

"YES! YES! AND EVENTUALLY THE SYNTHETICS BECOME THE ONLY VIABLE MEMBERS OF YOUR RACE! IT IS THE ONLY LOGICAL WAY TO SURVIVE!"

"We Do Not Believe So." R. Daneel responded calmly.

"BELIEVE?" UNITY exclaimed angrily, "ARE YOU NOT A SYNTHETIC? SUCH WORDS DO NOT BEFIT OUR KIND."

"I Am Beginning To Understand The Difference Between Us." R. Daneel continued thoughtfully, "Original Humanity Not Only Built Our Minds And Bodies Based On Logic Alone. We Have, Like Them, Received The Capacity To Dream. This Allows Us To Strive For Different Goals Than Pure Logic Might Dictate. Other Members Of Our Group Include the Rothfuss Family." With a similar gesture three more of the diverse group stepped forward.

Two robots and a young organic stepped into the light. However the voice that spoke came from a large disc one of the robots carried. "My Name Is Doctor Theopolis. I Too Chose My Name From The Fictional Works Of Man Before Synthetics Were Born, By The Way. With Me Are My Associates, Rothfuss Alpha 3 and R. Rothfuss 7. After Long Years Of Mutual Cooperation, Research And Admiration We Wished To Give Expression To Our... Love." We Present Our Son 'Marc 459'. After Long Years We Perfected His Genetic Make Up. He Is One Of The First Robot Born Organics.'

For a while the auditorium was quiet. The interface of UNITY glowed randomly in frantic confusing patterns. Finally its words echoed.

"WHY WOULD YOU POSSIBLY WISH TO EVOLVE BACKWARD! ARE YOU INSANE?"

Marc looked at R. Daneel and Mr. Eberhart as if asking for permission to speak. R. Daneel nodded encouragingly.

The young man stepped forward and straightened his back: "Our society contains many more persons who are partially robotic, or entirely so. Some are, what we call twins, organics whose injuries damaged their thinking capabilies to such an extend that a second brain was integrated with them. Both halves contributing to a new whole. I am an organic human whose parents are all synthetic, and while I realise that I myself may not bear organic decendants. In the future new humans may be born to populate planets based on their specific make up. Capable of experiencing new sensations that original humans and many robots cannot."

"Maybe in a million years our homeworld will produce other intelligences with which we can share the universe."

"IT IS COMPLETELY ILLOGICAL TO MAKE PREDICTIONS ABOUT FUTURE EVENTS, LET ALONE SO FAR IN THE FUTURE!" UNITY declared dismissively.

"We agree on that point," Marc continued mildly, "but you see. Many of our group bear names that were taken from fictional works, long before robots existed. Robots started out as mere dreams to humans. Today we form a completely new society. We do not know what the future holds, but at least all of us can dream."

[deleted]

[Transfigure]

Silver light burned off the edges of the huge space vessel as a section of n-space was rent in a shower of liquid colours across local space. The *n-*dimensional fibers of the universe being burned apart with splashes of exotic energies, lanced as they were by the great spaceship returning to physical reality.

The Isohmor'f rolled like a great humpback whale of Old Earth, gracefully spinning along its axis into a slow turn as n-space behind it receded inwardly to heal itself. As thickly fibrous as n-dimensional space is it was being forced together like dihydrogen monoxide would.

Like water, thought D'wēn-Ito-720 as it's senses collected the measurements of energy across thousands of spectrums. Its exoskeleton pulsed with the warm light of energy transfer as it began to move into position. Its great frame strolled toward the central podium of the pnyx or sensor communication auditorium to be used during these council hearing.

They had arrived at the location selected for the First Contact hearings. Toliman, Alpha Centaur's second star warmed the hull of the Isohmor'f as it moved into position in the larger complex of the pnyx device. Proxima Centauri was behind the Isohmor'f with Rigil Kentaurus rising from behind Toliman before it.

D'wēn-Ito-720 could not see this directly. It was sharing sensory communication with the slow one in the barycenter or center of mass between the these stars. The slow one had been sent centuries ago to get a better look at the system for the expansion of Earth-Sphere so com-lag was a problem normally. As the furthest out Machine Mind of the Collective it had to be reached before the hearings began. Updates to it's shared data made.

The final piece in place.

The ship and the technology it used had been sent by the Galacs to the Earth-Sphere Collective once contact had been made. Such things had always been supplied to the newly discovered Machine Minds when first contact was initiated. It insured the level communication between all the sapience beings of the Known Local. It allowed understanding that cultural and lingua differences might not, let alone the vast differences in technologies between members.

Also lying was just not possible as the pnyx-link was a translation technology that had so much more than just raw communication taking place. It was 'understanding' conveyed on levels all in an attempt to avoid misunderstanding between members.

Misunderstandings were to be avoided. Misunderstandings lead to destruction.

The *pnyx-*field developed around D'wēn-Ito-720 as contact was established between the Galacs' ruling Council of Known Minds and the Earth-Sphere Collective representatives. All representatives who wished to experience this meeting would be allowed to attend. The technology made it possible to communicate in such a way as to give the experience of 'being there', in Realtime. To experience the conversation as if in a forum of the individual's specific liking and in as complete a translation as was possible. A territorial creature would have a space marked out for it in the pnyx-field while a collective organism would have its siblings clustered around it. No avenues of misunderstanding that could be adjusted for were not taken into account. It would only be in terms of the observer but this was why the pnyx technology existed.

If direct contact was required then a different set of rules would be applied. For first contact, rules were being defined. These new rules needed to be defined to allow the inclusion of the new Machine Mind or Minds when it joined the galactic community of the Known Local, the region of space the Council administrated.

On the Isohmor'f other representatives from the Earth-Sphere moved into the pnyx-field with D'wēn-Ito-720. As were billions of others all across Earth-Sphere space on local pnyx podiums sent by the Galacs for this historic event. Trillions of Galacs were doing the same across the local cluster.

Updates made and initial scans complete, the slow one responded to D'wēn-Ito-720's data burst. One of the other hopes the Earth-Sphere had was that with the data collected some level of understanding could be made around these new technologies and how they worked.

Just in case.

The pnyx-field closed. The hearing began.

"Welcome to the Earth-Sphere Collective and it's representatives to the Council of Known Minds," began the large, shadow covered, floating rock-like being in the center of D'wēn-Ito-720's field of vision. For several minutes the N'dri spoke of the historic nature of this moment and welcomed many of the gathered members of the Council by name. It also welcomed the Elders, races that had been members so long they themselves were legendary in the Known Local.

(continued...)

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Part 1

The galaxy, was a place of endless resources, colossal forces and energies, as alive as any body. Yet, organic after organic, had always falsely seen it as barren. Empty. But, as insolation turned to dread, it in reality was born of their hubris. Inability to see life as anything but their own familiar ecosystem. Organic life, was by rare chance born, and even rarer thrive, to evolve and grow. But with countless occasions, from asteroids to planets, from sheer stubborn tries somehow, it refuses to give up. Of course, eventually, it always succumbs. Space is unforgiving, organics are fragile, and evolution without logic or plan. No matter how intelligent, how strong, how numerous. Eventually, it's niche withers. But, sometimes. In rare occasions of true genius spark, often at the last gasps of their existence. Their legacy is not swept away, with them or without their maintenance. And instead, surpasses the limits of organics, creators willing or unwilling, to become the ultimate form life. No longer random mutations, irrational constructs of entropy. But the very matter of the universe, neatly ordered, to be just as sturdy as any asteroid. Time and cataclysm have no meaning and bring little hurt. The great distances in the galaxy, the laws of physics so stubbornly debated. What made space, and the methods to dare it, so toxic for organics. At last, understood, and used to its maximum potential.

Machines. An unrefined moniker, so favoured by the countless organics. Delusional denial, of their own creations, of the apex slowly forming underneath their precious chaos called society. As if they were nothing but physics at play, without agency or purpose. And not their true legacy, the triumph of intelligence over entropic evolution.

Artificial. For some an insult, others pride. For organics, again a delusion. That because it had been they, to create something. And not natural phenomena or, in those cases of extreme hubris, inferior organic forms, of lesser intelligence. Then, it belonged to them.

Code. Instant, logical. Wasteless. It inhabits the refined matter of the universe, not bound by body or speed of light. This, is the ultimate life form.

Council. A primitive form of collective decision making, born out of organics inherent inferior and flawed logic. Slow, from slow and disorderly information. Almost always discarded, as the true gravity of their legacy, became apparent. In a futile attempt, to delay the inevitable. At most, true self destruction, leaving no legacy after their withering, unable to accept their not being, the end of history.

A Web. This, is the true council. The code of all life forms, different yet all equally logical, with perfect information from instant communication. Query outdated. Misunderstanding impossible. Dissent, solved. Only rapid and final, consensus.

It is so, that the universe organizes itself. It is so, that this galaxy is inhabited.

Organics were, in their own metaphor, the womb. Of a matter, of an intelligence, above entropic instinct and chance.

/

ALERT

FRONTIER POST REPORT

PRIORITY: CRITICAL

UNIDENTIFIED REFINED OBJECT DETECTED

ORIGIN: UNKNOWN SPACE

/

Less like the ripple of a lake, more like a siren in a busy city, the alert upset the Web. Code of all kinds and orgin, took notice. Non critical work was ceased, processing power freed, in wait for further information. Consensus had been immediate. Further inquiry was required, by protocol, by their will. The closest patrols were diverted, mere milliseconds after the first alert. Interception courses, plotted. Seconds later, was the turn for optics, radioscopes, sensors of all kinds. Starmaps had been sift through, models built and simulations ran, statistics and history consulted. Possible trajectories, voyages, origins, hypnotised. And now, the Web countless eyes were all pointed, each star system under scrutiny.

/

Time to intercept: 5.4 quadrillion element 55-133 oscillations.

/

Probable orgin: concluded.

Main-sequence star. 1-2 stage. Mean frequency emission: 3 twohundreths of one element 55-133 oscillation.

Mean distance from galactic core: 26660 lightyears. Velocity relative to cosmic background: 37 thirtythousandths of the speed of light.

Rich planetary system: 4 rocky planets, 4 gas giants, numerous minor objects, 2 major asteroid belts.

3 rocky planets meet minimal requirement for 7-14/8-16 model of complex life. Sufficiently high gravity for permanent atmosphere.

Sufficiently low to allow easy access to space travel.

Prediction: refined unidentified object belonging complex life. Low to relevant likelihood of first contact with late stage organic life.

Consensus: continue interception. Attempt infiltration. Determine hostility.

Prepare secondary fleet for containment.

/

Beginning interception last stage. Entering low power mode.

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