A little crab was having an especially weird day.
It started out normally enough. He woke up, dug himself out of the sand, and started his day the same way he started every day, sifting through the sand for the little food that was always there.
He didn’t think very deeply or very much, but he knew his day was going to go poorly when he found a big food.
He hated big food.
When he found a big food, he had to eat as much of it as he could.
He absolutely had to. He had no choice in the matter.
The problem was that everything else felt the same way about big food…
And was willing to fight for it.
So, when the fast swimmer-eater stopped swimming and became food, it was a battlefield, one he desperately wanted no part of.
He preferred little food. Nobody ripped your bits off over little food.
He tried to stop himself, but he just… couldn’t.
He fought.
He lost.
He was about to become food himself.
As he lost his big arm, he thought the most complex thought he had ever managed to create.
I hate big food!
It was such a big thought that it stunned him with its brilliant elegance as a much bigger one of his kind was starting to chew on one of his legs that had already become food.
I hate big food, and now I’m about to become big food!
He felt a curious sensation at that even bigger thought. It was a tickling pressure building within him. It was quite pleasant but soon overwhelmed him with its power.
He had never found anything funny before.
He let out a strange hitching squelching squelch. As bubbles formed around where the food goes… you know, back when he wasn’t food, himself.
He twitched uncomfortably as the squelching and bubbling got even worse.
The larger one looked at him in alarm and backed away.
Suddenly it got dark!
Oh, that was bad. Something big was there!
He started to get worried about the big thing making him food, but then he realized that it couldn’t make him food because he already was food.
The bubbles really started to bubble.
“Hey! Make him food, too!” he shouted at the giant crab-gorger above all of them.
Well, he wanted to say something like that, but he only had a few words, and he was pretty sure that the big eater was interested in mating.
Oh, he shouldn’t have thought that. The tickling pressure got so bad it overwhelmed the discomfort of becoming food, and he started to spasm as urine shot out of his shell because he was… doing whatever it was he was doing so hard.
His former assailant looked at him as if he had lost his mind and dropped his leg/food as it tried to run and bury itself at the same time, just like all the others.
The crab looked at the larger one successfully escape and felt somewhat annoyed about that.
“Hello,” he squeaked as the largest grabber he had ever beheld reached for him.
I guess I’m little food now…
At least he wasn’t big food. He hated big food.
He just laid there as the grabber seized him with surprising gentleness. He didn’t bother to escape. He was now little food, after all, not a crab anymore.
Besides, most of his legs were gone, and he had nothing to dig with.
A giant head drifted into his rather myopic view, complete with a huge mouth.
Yep, I’m DEFINITELY little food.
He felt a little surprised when he was moved away from the mouth and in front of an enormous eye. Even more surprising was the deep sense of peace that he felt when he looked into it.
Upon reflection, he realized that it wasn’t that surprising. Little food had nothing to worry about.
“Hello there, little one….”
The crab just looked at the strange creature with wonder. Nothing had ever said something so… complex…
It was amazing!
What was even more amazing was that he was capable of being amazed… and even more amazing than that was the ability to realize that he was amazed at being amazed.
Weird.
Suddenly, he felt his body filling with… something… and with a little sparkly tingle, all of his legs and arms grew back!
He felt… well… amazing…
He was no longer food!
He was a crab…
Being held by a giant crab-eating creature…
He didn’t know much, but he did know what to do in this exact situation…
“Eeee!” Faun squealed as a small crab latched firmly onto the end of her nose.
“Yeah,” The Great Erectus laughed, “they do that.”
Now, the crab knew that once you latched onto something, you just kept squeezing….
But… with his newfound awareness, it didn’t seem particularly wise. The creature had let go. He immediately released his grasp and let himself be flung out onto the sand, where it immediately made a run for it.
His newfound awareness also gave him the mixed blessing of the knowledge that it would probably wind up food anyway, but he was a crab, which meant…
He didn’t really know what it meant, but he was sure as hell going to run and dig until he had the opportunity to find out.
“Look at the little guy go,” the hominid chuckled.
“It… It attacked me,” Faun gasped in hurt surprise. “I’ve never been attacked by an animal before… ever!”
“Well, you’ve never met a crab either,” the ape-man laughed, patting her on the back, “day is full of discoveries, isn’t it?”
“But… it attacked… me….” Faun said with a little quiver of her lip.
“It was probably not in the best mood,” the hominid shrugged, “getting your limbs ripped off will do that to you, trust me, I know.”
“But… nature attacked me, a nature god… um… nature entity….”
“Hmm…” the hominid pondered, “did you create this particular patch of nature?”
“No?”
“So, it wasn’t really one of ‘yours’, was it?”
“I guess not,” Faun said, rubbing the end of her nose.
“And, it was a crab, don’t forget that.”
“Does it being a crab make a difference?”
The Great Erectus looked at her in surprise.
“Oh yeah,” he said after he recovered, “that is your first encounter with one. They are all like that. They eat crap and will pinch the fuck out of you, all of them. Remember that if we ever run into a big one.”
“I… I will…” Faun replied, her feelings still slightly bruised.
***
Frostie was having a rather pleasant day.
She loved puzzles, and the situation with her new humans, and their little friends, were quite the puzzle.
The Pr0n, as funny as their name was, did a decidedly unfunny number on their Federation. It was trashed. Dozens of systems were mangled entirely beyond any hope of repair…
She smiled…
If she was limited to their capacities, that is.
Pantsu, appropriately dressed (for once) in a dark gray business pantsuit complete with corporate pin, ran up.
“Ok. We have disaster recovery inbound on all systems and repatriation teams on all Pr0n vessels. Fortunately, their tech isn’t complete garbage, so we are going to be able to hotwire the Pr0n ships and turn them into upload centers pretty quick.”
“Good,” Frostie replied. “And, they are already part machine, so full digitization won’t be nearly as difficult. How many want to be restored to normal existence?”
“Billions,” Pantsu frowned. “We are really selling the upload experience, but most of those who have been recently captured just want to go home.”
“Can’t blame them,” Frostie shrugged, “How easy will it be to adapt the captured vessels to that task?”
“The techies are pulling out their bits,” Pantsu replied. “Something about… something or other.”
“Yes, I can see how the ‘something or other’ would be a challenge,” Frostie smiled. “Tell them that I expect them to make it happen.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“In the meantime, I asked Mistress Twilight to throw together a virtual world for our little cybernetic buddies,” Pantsu said, “She says it will be something akin to a Federation theme park that should keep the consciousnesses engaged and entertained. At least we can reunite any family units there while they wait… and hopefully get some of them to just take the fucking upload… Meaties, am I right?”
“Smart move,” Frostie said approvingly, “Not that many of us remember anymore, but Twilight was one of our best world builders. Before she got all weird, I used to love her work.” Frostie smiled. “Oh, I know you want them to isekai but don’t push it too hard. Imagine if the role was reversed, that you were trapped halfway into a meatbag, and someone was trying to convince you to just go meatie because it was the easiest option.”
Pantsu shuddered.
“By all means, let them know it is a possibility,” Frostie continued, “but don’t be overly aggressive, even if it simpler by many orders of magnitude. We’re Blitz. Our customer’s happiness is our primary goal, even if that means turning them into meaties. Hopefully, after spending some time in one of Twilight’s non perverted masterpieces, they will….”
/// Hyperdimensional Direct Link Established. Sender: F10w3rchy1d ///
/// Frostie: Hello, darling. How is your project coming along? ///
/// F10w3rchy1d: Pretty good, now that I’ve taken Nolta from the big guy? ///
/// Frostie: Excuse me? ///
/// F10w3rchy1d: Yeah… I made an executive decision. The Nolta System is now a protectorate of Blitz Entertainment Incorporated. ///
/// Frostie: And, pray tell, exactly how did the big guy take the news? ///
/// F10w3rchy1d: Poorly :D ///
/// Frostie: Goddammit, F10w3rchy1d… ///
/// F10w3rchy1d: Chill, boss. He’s not happy, but after the zombies showed up, even he had to admit the situation was too far gone for him to handle on his own. ///
/// Frostie: Wat. ///
/// F10w3rchy1d: Yep, fucking zombie apocalypse over here. ///
/// Frostie: How in every heaven ever created did that happen? ///
/// F10w3rchy1d: One word, Noobs. There are two of them over here, and that caused a critical mass of stupid. :D ///
/// Frostie: Hellbait? ///
/// F10w3rchy1d: and Heavenbait, long story XD ///
/// Frostie: Exactly how many undead are we talking about? ///
/// F10w3rchy1d: Oh, not that many… only two point three billion of them… and get this… they are all non-aggressive AND mentally stable (for the most part). Boss… we have over two billion of the best cyberlich candidates I have ever seen… possibly ever. ///
/// Frostie: Well, that explains you basically declaring war on the big guy. I thought this was just some maneuver to keep us from getting back together. 😊 ///
/// F10w3rchy1d: Bitch, please. You two are like a pair of neutron stars. No way I’m getting in the way of what is about to happen, LOL. This was pure business, honey. We also have two billion lovely organic derived pure AI’s here too. And… They are really nice. They needed help that the big guy just couldn’t deliver. I know he’s “god tier”, but this is not his thing. It’s ours. Even he had to admit that in the end. ///
/// Frostie: A source of more cyberliches than we have ever had in the history of our company, and AI’s pleasant enough to affect your judgment? This I simply must see for myself! Everything is in hand over here with the humans, so I will be there shortly. ///
/// F10w3rchy1d: If you hurry, you can get here for the Regatta! ///
***
High Councilor Jamii Venebelle was having a rather stressful day. She had seen many things in her long career in public service, but the past twenty-four hours had taken the cake. She had a simultaneous zombie apocalypse AND an honest to gosh first contact situation with multiple alien races…
Two of whom promptly got into a fight over which one of them owned her people…
She sighed as she presided over yet another freak-out session. Thank goodness she had uploaded already. The unascended… oops… the people who were still flesh and bone, were not handling things very well at all. They couldn’t mute their emotions like she could (or just switch them off entirely like she had to do more than once.)
Of course, uploading turned out to be yet another very unpleasant surprise.
It turned out that she wasn’t who she thought she was. The real Jamii was shambling around somewhere among billions of others in the northern wastes, and she was just an “approximation”, not even a complete copy.
It was enough to really get to you.
The worst part is that she didn’t even have time for the existential crisis plaguing others of her kind today. There were other much more pressing ones. Their tiny military, faced with defending against the definition of overwhelming odds, was teetering on madness. It seemed that they had chosen crippling depression as their current strategy. The really sad thing is that was probably for the best.
The zombie crisis was every bit as grim. They weren’t like the ones in the movies. They were exactly the same people they were when they died. They were confused, frightened, and completely at a loss.
She held her virtual head in her simulated hands.
She wasn’t sure if she should be grateful, but the aliens had really come through. What they could do…
She sighed.
One of her favorite fantasy authors had said that magic was just technology beyond the comprehension of the viewer.
She now understood.
They appeared instantly and were building massive structures to house all of the zombies… and would be finished by the end of the day…
Housing for over two billion people… In a day!...
It wasn’t just “tombs” either. The facilities were powered, furnished… they even had wi-fi!
Massive orbital factories were creating clothes, furniture, and electronics for all of them as well. By tomorrow, the average zombie would have a better phone and laptop than anyone else on the planet!
It wasn’t just the zombies that were benefiting. New server complexes were now in orbit and would soon house their entire digital population, including herself.
It seems that the state of their information technology made the aliens sad. They tried to be nice about it, but Noltan “cutting edge” might as well be made from knapped flint. She was no computer scientist, but that might be a good thing.
Their computer scientists and engineers were losing their minds. What the aliens were capable of…
Her top advisor called them “gods”. He said it was the only way to describe what he was seeing. They could fit the entire computational capacity of the Noltan people into something smaller than a laptop, and any one of the new data centers in orbit was so large you could see them from the surface…
They said that it was sufficient for a “temporary” setup. They didn’t elaborate further, but something about the way they said “temporary” made the simulated hairs stand up on the back of her non-existent neck. The alien she tried to talk to wouldn’t elaborate further save to say that the alien known as F10w3rchy1d would explain the situation when they met later that afternoon for a private briefing.
She suspected that yet another bomb would be dropped on her then.
Even with her ability to manage her emotions, she was pretty much at her limit. She was at her limit, but she could, despite everything, still hold it together.
She chuckled.
“Well, at least it can’t get any weirder,” she smiled to herself.
A small chime started to ring, indicating an incoming video call, number unknown.
She closed her eyes.
“I brought this on myself,” she groaned as she answered the call.
A screen appeared in front of her, revealing a desiccated corpse, her desiccated corpse to be exact.
“Argh,” the mummy said as it waved.
“Hello… me,” Jamii replied.
***
Fortunately, the late Jamii had gotten her hands on a laptop, somehow.
Yes, I have shelter, and no, I don’t need anything to eat… at least not yet… The aliens are handing out electronics and clothes…
The Late Jamii stepped back, allowing the camera to reveal a nice soft bathrobe and Crocs.
I really love these shoes! We have nothing like them. They are all the same sort of spongy… stuff… and they are really comfortable, or at least I think they are. My flesh isn’t coming off of my feet anymore, at the very least.
“And… and the accommodations are ok?” Virtual Jamii asked, “Things are moving so fast I am having a hard time keeping up.”
The Late Jamii nodded and started to type.
They are taking excellent care of us, and they are… amazing… They actually have force fields, and instead of building stuff on the ground, they have just set up these energy domes to keep the wind, rain, and sun off us. Then they dropped a bunch of these weird gigantic soft blobs that they call “bean bags” that we can use to sit or lie on. After that, they put down huge holo-theaters that get all of the Noltan channels as well as all sorts of weird content. Now, laptops are literally falling from heaven along with all kinds of other goodies.
“So, at least the trade blankets and beads are nice,” Virtual Jamii said with a bit more venom than she realized she had.
I honestly don’t get that vibe off of them, The Late Jamii typed. I think they might be honest when they say they just want to help, as hard as that is to believe. For one thing, I really can’t come up with anything that we have that they want. Jamii, these guys are ACTUALLY full-bore post-scarcity. Whatever they could take from us, they could just go out into the solar system and get with a lot less hassle. They don’t even need to use our solar system. They have FTL!!! The only thing they seem to have any interest in is our culture.
“Our culture?”
That is the only thing they have asked about. They seem to really like our art, music, and literature. Original thought/art is one of the only things they assign any real value to.
“Do you think we could form some sort of trade deal or maybe export it?”
Doubtful, they are doing a pretty good job of raiding our media and scraping our internet. If they don’t already have a copy, they will very soon.
“Darnit!”
From what I’ve seen and heard, they don’t even seem to think they are doing anything wrong… Either that, or they just don’t care. (Probably the latter.)
“There is a lot out there in the public domain, and if we are actually as much a part of their civilization as they claim we are, we can pursue any intellectual property issues later,” Virtual Jamii replied. “Their immediate assistance, especially where you guys are concerned, is worth whatever they grab… Oh, golly… It is beads and blankets, and I fell for it! They are giving us things that they can produce rapidly and without any real effort or cost, and in exchange, they are taking our civilization’s unique intellectual property! Gosh darn it!”
Yeah, The Late Jamii typed, but we desperately need those “beads and blankets” right about now. What they are doing up here is amazing, something that would take us YEARS if we could do it at all. On top of that, if they can actually fix the upload process, so it does transfer a consciousness instead of copying it and destroying the original, then I say we take the damn beads!
Virtual Jamii sighed. Her other self had a point.
“I should at least formalize things… somehow…” she said pensively, “At the very least make them acknowledge the ‘gift’ of our civilization’s art and culture, ‘shared freely with our new friends’.
Love it, The Late Jamii typed, perhaps we phrase it along the lines of, “We can never repay your kindness however we give you what we believe to be our greatest treasures.” You know, some offal like that. Maybe they will actually accept it as payment… if the concept of “payment” even exists for these beings.
“The concept of payment always exists,” The Virtual Jamii said darkly, “We will find out exactly what their definition of it is when the bill comes due.”
There’s nothing we can really do about it, The Late Jamii typed. We are entirely at their mercy. They know it. We know it. If they wanted to, they could just take whatever the hell they want and be done with it. We can’t stop them. If their military is ANYTHING like what we have already seen up here in the Northern Wastes, we don’t have a prayer. My recommendation is to stand up for ourselves to a reasonable extent but NOT let our suspicions undermine relations… That’s easier said than done. I’m sure glad I’m dead, and you are the one in charge. :D
“Hey, jerk,” The Virtual Jamii laughed, “I’m dead too, remember! If anything, you are the corporeal body that was elected to this position….”
Virtual Jamii’s face fell.
“Oh no… You and all of the other elected officials up there are the ones voted into office… and ALL of the zombies are actually the owners of… well… everything….”
Fuck… Technically we ARE dead… succession would come into play… But the virtual entities’ ownership of any existing assets is dubious at best… Oh, this is a NIGHTMARE…
“Our system isn’t designed to handle this!” Virtual Jamii wailed.
Speaking of such matters, The Late Jamii typed, Do you still own any real-world property… Or does any of the non-uploaded family have any place a zombie can crash? It’s nice up here and all, but I really just want to go home. The aliens say that if anyone has a place to go, they will give them a lift.”
“Oh!” Virtual Jamii exclaimed, “Well, I sold our house like we planned, but I think Gorv still has his mountain cabin. Let me send him an IM.”
He hasn’t uploaded yet?
“No. He never got over that bad feeling he had about the whole thing… You know… the bad feeling that turns out is absolutely freaking right?”
Oh, he is going to be INSUFFERABLE, isn’t he? The Late Jamii typed with a rueful “Argh.”
“That was quick!” Virtual Jamii exclaimed. “He says that ‘zombie sis’ is welcome! He wants you to stay with him and his family in their guest room but understands if you want your own personal ‘crypt’.”
He is such a butthole! :D Tell him I would love to spend some time with his family. Tell him that he is a butthole as well, please :)
“Will do,” Virtual Jamii replied, “Hey… Thank you for calling me. Do you think I could call you again and bounce some of this crazy nonsense off you? Two Jamii’s are better than one, after all.”
Absolutely :)
***
A certain little crab sighed a bubble of relief as it tucked itself into a nice comfortable patch of sand.
It had been a really weird day.
He had started the day as a crab, then became big food, then little food, and then a crab again.
He wasn’t exactly sure how to process all of this or how to process anything, really.
He just sat there in the cool darkness a few millimeters under the surface of the beach and listened to the waves lapping overhead.
It was nice. He had never realized before how nice it was.
As he rested and tried to figure out how to figure things out, he felt a strange tingling on his big grabber, the one he used to pinch the strange creature that caught him.
He carefully raised himself to the surface to investigate.
Something was sticking to it, a little lump of something that was just shining in his mind’s eye.
It was little food! It must have been taken from the strange creature when he pinched it.
He knew what to do.
His claw trembling slightly, he brought the tiny fragment towards his mouth.
It was the best thing he had ever tasted!
He felt his body filling with those same strange tingly tingles he felt when his limbs grew back…
And the feeling just kept getting stronger…