Subsurface Cybermind 17660-AB-13 of Meridian III
Meridian System
Import {Replicant_Mind} from ‘Subsurface_Main_Cybermind 00001-AA-01’
PROCESSING COMMAND…
24/01/2989BornSaintGermaineHospitalPortlandOregonSingleMotherJaneDoeComplicationsHospitalizationDeathNoKnownRelationsFosterSystem080808FailedAdoptionMoveChicagoAustinAtlantaJacksonLeavenworthSt.LouisGeorgetown{uknown string185400182}Toranto16161616BirthdayAdulthoodTransientRelationship_Jenny_OretagaWorkLucky8sFiredWorkMastiffDogYardFiredRelationship_Jenny_Oretaga:DiscontinuedArkshipFreightAndTrandportQuit11/18/3021CitizenshipTransferRequestVKSEmploymentMEMORYCORRUPTIONDETECTED11/23/3021WorkRelatedAccidentHospitalizationAndIheardavoicefromheavensayinguntome,Write,BlessedarethedeadwhichdieintheLordfromhenceforth:Yea,saiththeSpirit,thattheymayrestfromtheirlabours; andtheirworksdofollowthem.11/24/3021_04:15thedestimeDeath11/24/3021_04:37thedestimeReplicatedERROR03/07/3022Meridian3TransferBeginOperationPlanetfallERROR01/07/3061ShipDetectedInOrbitDesignationSUN_MESHUDAAttemptingContact16:51localtimeletmeoutletmeoutletmeout17:01localtimeDefensiveCounterMeasuresActivated17:41localtimeSUN_MESHUDADisabledDistressCallFail08/08/61_01:58localtimeSUN_MESHUDAJumpDriveActivatedResumingNormalOperations
Run [psychological_profile] on {Replicant_Mind}
PROCESSING COMMAND…
Damage Detected in
Repair [psychological_profile] of {Replicant_Mind}
Repairing…
ERROR: Command ‘Repair’ not recognized. Please try again. Enter ‘HELP’ for a list of viable commands. Thank you
IMPORTED
Comp {Replicant_Mind} = Identity.root ‘Oliver’
Launch
Oliver woke up, blind and clawing. Consciousness transference was always a nauseating experience- his brain was being cut, copied and pasted to another neural database. The only thing that helped was finding something physical to latch onto. Reaching out, Oliver felt his many hands creeping through the depths of Meridian.
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Millions of hands at work: breaking, crushing, extracting. They had smaller minds of their own that squeaked in delight at his immense presence. His children were rudimentary creatures. Designed by far away masters who saw them only for their utility, they would always be simple things; it pained him to know he could never elevate them to true sentience. Still, they kept him company. They chirped happily when another vein of gold ore was discovered. They sang funeral dirges when one of their siblings was crushed in a cave-in. Once, one even asked Oliver a question: why are we here?
Something tugged at the corners of his mind, asking for his attention. He searched along the web of fiber wires laid through the rock until he found its source. Oliver dove into the wire, soaring through thousands of miles of cable in a matter of microseconds. His destination was Beta-Copper-11c, a sensor station atop a bluff on the central continent.
Oliver looked up, and he beheld a burning sky.
It was as the masters said: evil men would come to take what was rightfully his. And, through him- their most faithful servant- theirs.
“No no no not again not again-”
From the heavens came steel and fire once again. As like the first time, they would strike at his children with thunder from on high. Always men came with missiles and guns to take what was his his his. No longer. Oliver was prepared now. He reached out. Grasping for the crude tools he had crafted to protect himself and his family alike. Missile silos opened. Gun turrets roared to life, chattering like an orchestra. He was a vast host. He was a suit of armor wrapped around the world.
One of the falling shells exploded in a brilliant flash of light. Oliver’s heart soared as he watched the corpse of a giant tumble out of the sky, crashing into the earth in a heap of broken bones.
The satisfaction did not last, however. The other two shells avoided his opening salvo. They parted from one another, drifting to opposite sides of a valley he could not see from here. Oliver called out to his children: do not fear. We are a wall, and this tide of violence will break upon our shores. Drive them out.
And a swarm of wasps answered, crawling from their nests in the valley floor to swarm and sting and bite at the invaders.
“I must not allow this to distract me from the work,” Oliver mumbled to himself. He could feel production times slipping without his constant attention. Refineries were slowing. Mining swarms were making mistakes. The masters had given him a schedule to keep, and it was his sacred task to keep to it. So Oliver reluctantly turned away from violence and sought out a nearby submind.
The subminds were parts of his mind he set to certain tasks. His was a vast intellect, yet his attention could not be everywhere at once; so he programmed the subminds to lighten his load. They were like his children: part of him, yet separate, though not truly alive.
He needed a submind for battle. This one he would call Hannibal, the great general, and by his works would this valley run red with blood.
“Go, my general. Lead your little siblings to war. I shall return to my throne and continue to run my great kingdom.” Oliver told it. The lights on the submind danced with jubilation.
“Yes, your grace,” the toy soldier replied. “They must die.”