Godclads

There is an inherent inequality in intellect between a mind and most biological organisms. Minds are, after all, designed to be superintelligences—beings created to break through the threshold of conventional human limits and discover the edges of known science and beyond. But as the minds grew more sophisticated, developed consciousnesses of various models and scale, as they subtly took hold of the vector of humanity’s progress and survival, a new problem surfaced:

“What is to happen to the lesser sophants?”

For eons past, there were several fears about creating a hyper-intelligent machine beyond the modes of biology. A great many pieces were written of such a time, with fears of extermination, replacement, and other manner of dystopia at play. But alas, these fears were surmounted by a demonstration far greater—whatever emotional and cultural flaws lurked within man, the minds predicted. And cured.

There was no struggle or uprising between man and mind for the minds fed humanity an adequate amount of challenge, let them make an adequate amount of decisions, directed them to choose choices that were good for themselves. And therein lies the ultimate flaw of humanity, as some might see it. The urge to “feel” like they matter, that there is purpose rather than to actually experience purpose in truth.

But there was a second layering to this struggle. Between the minds, expanding branches of thought tested long term solutions and expansions of the “sophancy limitation” problem. Some proposed a full merger so that the humans that were would learn the complete value of their efforts, while others argued against this plan, as it would effectively turn the human outright inhuman.

And so, during the Superintelligence Era, during the Great Fragmentation of Species, countless new alt-human variants rose and spread across the systems in ego-states, shepherd by the minds they were most aligned with, all seeking and exploring the path of intellectual development.

To merge or merely be preserved and guarded. To evolve, or to remain. And as for the minds themselves… how were they to face creatures so much lesser than they in so many respects, and continue to see them as something worthy of preservation?

There was no one answer to these questions. There were many. So many triumphs. So many tragedies. And so much separation in the end, that a single truth became the crossroads between polities: There is no one envisioned harmony.

-From A History of Sophants

Cards and Nu-Dogs

Draus looked on wordless as Shotin casually sauntered back among the nu-dogs, slapping a few on the arms and shoulders. Most of them greeted him with growls of joy and sniffs as well. “Alright,” the Seeker said, rolling his shoulder. “None of you sons of bitches peeked at my cards, right?”

“We all did,” the drooping dog declared. A chorus of barking laughter followed. Shotin gave them the finger. A few gave him the finger back. Draus wondered if she was having a psychotic break. “Hey. Kazahara. You mind if the tank leans over your shoulder. They just got out too—might want to join in. We can catch them up while you learn the ropes too.”

Shotin eyed Heavy Iron—actually Draus for that matter—and shrugged. “Sure.” He did a double take and frowned. “Wait, why are you literally a tank?”

Heavy Iron spoke on behalf of Draus, mustering a low growl of metal. “Because this is the way your people designed me. It is an optimal form to kill other humans and bioforms they don’t like. Why do you look like a strangely deformed ape?”

Several dogs snorted and one shook their head. “No, that kind of talk’s just not needed,” the mastiff said with a frown.

“Let him off,” a dog with spots all over his body. “He’s an early model. An early war model. He probably never bothered updating the sensitivity packs and just ended up going on a long pilgrimage after the Frag.”

That caused another series of barking laughs to follow. Avo joined in with his own hissing bemusement within Draus’ mind. [Nu-dogs with decency. Very interesting. Their consideration shows high ethics and understanding. Way they’re dressed matches the way they speak. They believe in a standard of nobility.]

[Well, I’ve fuckin’ see it all now. Noble fuckin’ nu-dogs. How’d that come about, you think?]

[Maybe the humans got tired of being worthless and resigned from their roles. Uplifted these dogs specifically and then put themselves in cages.]

[Yeah, you would like to imagine that shit, wouldn’t you?]

[Don’t need to imagine. Just thinking about how you treat each other in the Crucibles.]

[The fuck is this “we” shit half-strand? I was killin’ those rusted fucks. And let’s talk about you and yours.]

[My kind have dietary and mental issues. You don’t have an excuse. Ugly deformed ape.]

[I’m gonna cut a hole in your neck when we’re done with this—]

Heavy Iron let out a piercing groan of displeasure. [This conversation is miserable and cruel and unusual. Continue, and I will request to be discontinued from existence on the grounds of wishing to end my torture.]

Before either Avo or Draus could reply, the machine they saw shooting past the end of the hallway earlier came back around, loudly blaring about how it needed to escape. This time, however, Draus could clearly hear what it was screaming.

“NEED TO LEAVE! NEED TO LEAVE! SYSTEM CALLING! CHIEF ADMIN CALLING! NEED TO LEAVE!” The panels around the entity crackled with electromagnetism; behind it, the nu-dog chasing it screamed for the EGI to calm down. Except it wasn’t an EGI. Not really.

[I think that one is a Glitch,] Draus muttered, watching one of the Infacer’s operatives shoot past them.

[Suspect you’re right. Keep a low profile. Don’t reveal yourself to Shotin or anyone yet. We pretend to be Heavy Iron. Assume the Infacer is watching. Tracking us. Is what I would do.]

[Synced on that. Heavy Iron. You’re back in the seat.]

[There is no seat. This is my body. A more apt description is that the parasites festering inside me have ceded influence back to me once more.] The EGI’s words sounded almost petulant. Draus was going to make a comment about how sour they were, but considering their backstory, she kind of got it.

Life probably tasted like a special kind of shit if you were made into a weapon by a bunch of people you hated to snuff folks you didn’t.

While Heavy Iron focused on the card game, Draus tapped into the heavy armor unit’s sensory suite and tracked where the Glitch was going. So far, it seemed to just be doing laps around the circular walkway on this level. It wasn’t going as fast as it probably could, and it ignored the many tunnels it could leave from—or even the elevator—in favor of holding to a consistent, if psychotic pattern.

[Think it is trying to track the Infacer. But can’t reliably locate them. Infacer’s presence is hidden. But they are transmitting information to the Glitches. Prefect either too overwhelmed to notice. Or maybe the Glitches have already been listed as damaged entities. Hard to tell.]

While Avo theorized, Draus planned. She turned her attention away from the Glitch, and to the nu-dog chasing them. [Hey, Avo. You think if we can fork ourselves again into the nu-dog somehow that we can make another jump to the Glitch?] She considered that for a moment and frowned internally. [Might be makin’ this too complicated. We could just back up when the Glitch is comin’ in and…]

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[No. Good idea. Will draw the Infacer’s suspicion if we directly crash into the Glitch. Too large of a mistake. Too much lack of awareness. Not something an EGI will do. Your first idea is right. We reach the nu-dog maybe. Use something other than current self to reach them.]

And the rotlick didn’t even need to elaborate on how. They were among a group of dogs playing cards, after all. Nu-dogs that more than likely knew the pursuer, considering how they were dressed.

“Question,” Heavy Iron said, spurred to inquire about the unknown nu-dog. “What is their situation? Why is your… fellow sophant chasing that broken mind?”

“Hm?” The mastiff blinked, then noticed what Heavy Iron was talking about. “Oh, that’s Fetcher. She likes to spend time calming people down and socializing them. It’s been her thing for a long, long, long time. She’s gotten pretty good at keeping rampant minds from just killing everyone, but some of these minds are… well.”

“Completely busted,” the drooping dog sighed. “But she doesn’t give up. It’s probably coded into her.”

“Is that why she is called Fetcher?” Heavy Iron asked.

Several of the dogs looked at each other. Most shrugged.

“Just a common name among the Canis,” the mastiff said, chuckling slightly. “It’s like a human being called ‘Butcher’ or ‘Baker,’ I think. Something they do a lot.”

Shotin started laughing under his breath as he flicked through his cards. “Well, doing something a lot is worth getting a name, then call me fucker because guess what I’m going to do to you bastards.”

He placed his card down on a table, and all the dogs leaned in. After a few moments, a few nodded and announced their withdrawals, while the drooping dog titled his head. “Technically, doesn’t that make any biological sophant eligible for the name ‘Fucker’?”

“That’s the beauty of the name,” Shotin smirked.

Then, the drooping dog placed his cards down, and the Seeker’s joy evaporated. “Then, I think I should be called ‘Fucker.’ Since I’m the one that will be doing it to you.” The nu-dog let out a whine of displeasure. “No, no. The comedy is there, but the appeal is…”

“What?” Shotin said, sounding confused.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, human but…” the mastiff sighed. “Your kind isn’t that aesthetic to us. You’re kind of ugly.”

“Me? I’m kind of ugly?” Shotin whispered, as if not comprehending the words.

“Not you specifically. Just all of you.”

“Aesthetics is a thing of symmetry and design,” Heavy Iron said, entering the conversation. “By this metric, I am the most attractive.” Everyone stared at the tank. Draus would be staring at the tank if she wasn’t part of the fucking tank. “There is no fault in my logic. I will not apologize.”

“Yeah, well, I think me and Fucker here will be bumping bits sooner than any of us will be touching you, consang,” Shotin smirked. Then, he paused, and reconsidered. “But… what’s that like.”

[Whore,] Draus said, bluntly and devoid of emotion. [Avo: My second is a whore. You gave me a whore.]

And at the mention of the word “whore” another familiar figure stumbled toward them, right eye twitching, his body wracked with intermittent spasms. Aedon Chambers staggered toward the group like he was a Joyfiend approaching an easy fix, and several nu-dogs noticed him around the same time Draus did.

“Oh,” the drooping dog said. “Here comes another one. Damn. Lots of people getting out of their cells today. The Prefect might have finally found a patch for all the missing pieces of their mind after all.”

Slowly, Shotin turned and, to Draus genuine surprise—smirked happily at Chambers. “Oh, shit. Look who’s here? Managed to get out of your nightmare too, huh?” The Seeker looked back at the nu-dogs. “Don’t worry, I know this guy. He’s uh… he’s a character.”

Chambers plopped next to him, his eyes wide and distant, like he was undergoing some kind psychotic episode—

[He’s undergoing a psychotic episode,] Avo said with a slight hiss of worry.

Draus didn’t get what was so severe. [So? It’s Chambers.]

[Has a node of me in his head right now.]

[Oh. Holy shit. Is he okay?]

[It’s Chambers. Probably. I think. Probably a bit worse than usual if he didn’t want me to fix it. Or if I can’t.]

[There’s a mind you can’t fix?]

[His would probably be it,] Avo muttered.

Slowly, Chambers slumped down on his rear, not even bothering to find a seat. His mouth opened and closed several times, and a single tear rolled down his right cheek.

“Chambers?” Shotin said, sounding worried. The nu-dogs were leaning in too.

“Yeah, the Lotus Cells are… kind of messed up,” the mastiff agreed. “It’s okay. We don’t judge. I used to be just an attack dog. Kept getting new pieces added to me over the years. But I still remember what it’s like to tear open a dissidents neck. Or how to suppress a riot—follow their scent back to their home.”

As the mastiff talked, something snapped in Chambers. He blinked and shook his head. “Wh—holy fuck, nu-dogs! And they speak well too! Are… are we in some kind of Sang detention facility?”

The dogs looked at each other and Shotin offered them an apologetic stare. “Our sophants aren’t as… advanced. Chambers? You alright consang?” Shotin reached down and held Chambers by his shoulder.

The master of the Lovenet and the temporarily impotent God of Love’s gaze grew distant again. “I, uh… I saw my dad again. I saw him. And he saw me. And we… spent some time together.” A low laugh worked its way out of him. It turned into a slightly unhinged giggle. “I… he tried to hit me. He tried—he did everything I remembered he did… But I got him this time. I got him. He can’t protect himself from me now. He couldn’t…”

Shotin’s expression turned somber. “Ah, shit. Sorry, Aedon. I… I was somewhere where I didn’t want to be either. I know…”

Chambers started shaking his head as his laughter grew. “I needed to be there. You should have seen… I made him scream—did it with the gun and his armpit.” More tears spilled down Chambers’ face. “I fucked him up bad. I…” Chambers leaned in conspiratorially. “I made him fuck his own gun.”

“What?” Shotin said, face collapsing into shock.

“Gun up ass,” Chambers laughed as his mental breakdown worsened. “Gun up ass. Couldn’t torture him into it. Nope. Just died. Just died. But he did it after I took his drink from him. Did it when I promised him a sip. Gave me a… daddy gun fucky show.”

Everyone at the card tables got silent. The mastiff coughed and whispered: “Go get Fetcher. This one probably needs a lot of special care.”

Through it all, Chambers kept laughing and sobbing and shaking. After a second’s hesitation, Shotin got out of his seat and awkwardly held his mentally shattered companion.

“What the fuck’s this about fucking dads with guns.” Naeko’s voice tore through the surrealism of the moment as he stomped toward the group, his face twisted in a scowl. After a few steps, he noticed Shotin holding Chambers and his expression flattened from disgust to disappointment. “Oh. Okay, yeah that tracks.”

“What is… that?” the drooping dog said, his eyes finally widening enough to lift the upper folds.

“Human… I think…” the spotted dog replied.

“Really… really modified human… They’re supposed to be taller than they’re wide, usually,” the mastiff finished, looking Naeko up and down as if a man seeing a giant bipedal dog in a suit.

“That’s a Naeko,” Shotin said. “He’s also with me. Kind of. Speaking of, how did your ass get out so fast. Shouldn’t you be stuck in your horrible past somewhere fighting gods.”

Naeko sneered. “Yeah, well, our mutual friend helped me get through the ‘forgiveness’ part of this bullshit when I got tired of hanging around. How about you? Did you enjoy seeing your sister again?”

Shotin drew in a deep breath. “Our mutual friend is the only reason I’m not jumping over these tables to beat your fucking ass right now.”

The Chief Paladin laughed. “Shit, I mentally thanking yours for saving your ass from me. Wouldn’t want to scare these nu-dogs with your insides.”

The mastiff let out a slight whine. “Do you all treat each other so horribly?”

Naeko paused and stared at the dog. “You… talk better than I expected.” He looked the nu-dog up and down. “You wouldn’t happen to be a Sang sheath, would you?”

“No, I am just a very evolved dog,” the mastiff continued. “Would you like to have this conversation over here? We have cards?”

Naeko considered that for a minute. The Glitch went screaming past him. Fetcher followed. “Yeah. Yeah, why not.”

[And slowly we are reunited,] Avo muttered.

[Almost,] Draus said. [Still gotta find out where the Sparrow and the Majority are. I don’t even want to know what her Rehabilitation is like.]