“To seek perfection is to seek eternity.”
***Outer Rim***
***Antioch***
I didn't leave the throne room for a long time after Jenny left. Not because her words gave me concern, but because other matters were on my mind. And despite what people may think, the throne room was an area where I would be largely left alone unless something important came up. Thanks to Silith and her entourage I had enough free space to contemplate matters of the state, so to speak.
And I was always good at delegating work, something that comes with having a few dozen drones at my disposal.
No, what concerned me were Martin's words and the fact that there must be people out there who, thanks to risking their lives or turning themselves into egg factories, had accumulated vastly more skill points than I. So why am I a king?
As I stood there, I played with the thought of paying John a visit. The leader of the Lifer faction somehow always had a calming effect on my nerves. His attitude had a lot less urgency and with him, I never felt the need to accomplish something right this instant.
Turning, I walk back up the stairs to the throne and sit down. Not only an ornamental piece of furniture, Tartarus' throne was its heart of command and a convenient means of paying the V.C. a short visit.
As I logged in, I closed my eyes and felt a moment of weightlessness. Then I suddenly stood in a city brimming with life, the Lifer faction's focal point of power.
I ignore the quickly gathering crowd of fans and hurry to enter the large office building in front of which I appeared, one of my main-spawn locations. Being among so many people is still a nerve-wracking experience for me, so I am glad when the electric doors of the reception area close behind me, shutting out the noise of the crowd and the city.
Smiling, I wander up to the female imitation of a Roman goddess. As an NPC, she is this building's doorbell and acts as a bouncer for people who aren't welcome. After all, the people in this building are organizing a whole faction. It's not like they would talk to anyone.
The irony of giving an npc in such a menial function the appearance of a mythical being with limitless power isn't lost on me. “I want to see John. Does he have time?”
Having recognized me, the helpful simulacrum of a human being smiles and blinks with her long lashes. “I'll make an appointment for you, sir. John will receive you shortly.”
“Thanks,” I reply, simply because it's so hard not to see her just as a piece of software. I'll never understand why my people like giving a program the appearance of a real human. If it wasn't for the tag that identifies her as an NPC, I would have a hard time to distinguish her from a real personality.
NPCs aren't real minds. They can only do what the system programmed them to. They are essentially huge accumulations of defined if-then reactions, which the NPC's follow precisely. There is no real mind or a guiding intelligence behind the facade, and while some NPCs are freakingly human-like, a person who is looking for it can find their limits.
The assistant in front of me, forced by the nature of her post, is one of the more refined versions. I would probably be able to hold a decent conversation with her. The human language has a finite amount of words and therefore a finite amount of questions can be asked. The V.C. has more than enough computing power to have a fitting answer at the ready in most cases. It would be very hard to bug her out, getting a repeated reply like 'Sorry, I didn't understand that.' I would have to find a topic of conversation that's completely unexpected.
But what would be impossible, for example, would be to cause her to leave her post. I could ask her out on a date and she would always find a way to deny. The world could come apart around her and she would still fulfill her function, smiling all the same.
“You can enter the elevator,” she chirps and I thank her, again, against my better knowledge.
The elevator is just a few steps to the side, next to the desk with the goddess. I enter it and cross my arms behind my back, waiting for it to take me up to the highest level. There are no buttons or other controls, as the elevator is controlled by whoever grants a visitor the right to enter.
The elevator door opens directly into John's office. The old man is sitting at his desk and the blue sky is visible through the window front behind him. Just like always.
“Hi.” I stroll into the room and help myself to one of the chairs. “Can't you allow me to log directly into your office? It's annoying to appear on the street, there are always paparazzi waiting for me.”
“Sorry, security precautions. How can I help you? Is it important, or one of your social visits?” John raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “Is my appearance still so fascinating to you that you visit me just to gawk?”
I clear my throat, a little embarrassed that he saw straight through me. It seems like I am no better than the scum down on the street. “A little bit of both. First, it seems like we encountered the Cyber and I wondered if you heard about any reaction within the V.C.” I explain the encounter in further detail for him.
When I am done, John nods sagely. “That forces us to step up our plans, but don't worry, I'll make sure that a few more individuals who are inclined to violence will join your ranks. Up until now, we had our eyes mostly on people with the skills to build up a thriving economy. The Cyber haven't shown any reaction as far as I know, but I'll inform you if they do.”
“Another point is the unfair game system. I just found out that a Demoness gets a full skill point for a clutch of eggs. What the actual fuck, John. No wonder that our population is unmanageable! How did you do it? It's imbalanced! I feel like a bumbling buffoon in the role of a king. How can I be a king if I am younger and weaker than the people I lead?”
“You shouldn't feel like a buffoon. It's true that others may be older and wiser than you, but they already had their chance and still ended up in the V.C., while you managed to create a new race. Now you must lead us to glory.” The old man grins. “Besides, aren't I the wrong person to complain to? You should give your worries to G.O.D. or Jill, not me. I am just a player like you.” He places his arms on the desk and folds his fingers in a praying position. “However, the system is always fair, though it can be abused in some ways. That's how the Blue became what they are. No safeguards are completely infallible.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It means that the girls have found an obvious way to abuse the system. And since a Demoness doesn't have the same problems with giving birth as a base-line human, they are inclined to do so. What I am saying is this, why aren't you searching for your own way to abuse the system?”
That gives me pause. “There are ways to abuse the system?”
“Of course. Though an admin would probably say that it isn't abuse, but using your abilities properly. After all, the system – at its core – is fair.” John clears his throat. “Is that all? This old me has a lot of things to do and I just don't have the time to look at your skills and tell you what to do, or how to force the system to generate quests for you.”
I can force the system to generate quests?
When I don't reply immediately, the world around me winks out of existence. For a disorientating moment, I don't know where I am until I realize that I am back in the throne room. “Bastard.” He kicked me from his server!
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Grumbling, I get up and leave the throne room.
Instead of leaving the governmental district the normal way, I take one of the many hidden service tunnels to Tartarus' surface. All the while I brood over my list of skills. At the rate the women have been going, they must have gotten thirty-two additional points by now.
That's a lot more than the meager elven points I was hoarding up over the years. Without any apparent reason to spend them, I held them in reserve. But John said that it's possible to abuse the system and that it's generally fair.
Mulling over that, I wander the service tunnels, shadowed by three of my drones. They aren't of much use since I became the leader of a race. There are more than enough Demons on Tartarus to do everything that needs doing.
As I walk and slowly near the surface, the silent thrumming of the antimatter reactors in Tartarus' core slowly dies away. Even though I walk fairly quickly, it takes me two and a half hours to reach the surface. Had I taken an elevator, I would've reached my destination in minutes, but that wasn't the point of the exercise.
It's relaxing to wander the network of service tunnels, just interrupted by a random technician or drone from time to time.
When I reach the surface, I emerge from one of the sensor towers, a two hundred meter spike which reaches out into the void. The reinforced glass dome at its tip grants me a nice view of the asteroid's surface. Tartarus is mostly rock, but it's in a process of permanent change. Here and there the rocky surface is being replaced by gleaming structures of metal.
The tower is encircled by a protective ring of huge railguns which would stop any projectile attack on the important structure, as it is filled with sensitive equipment.
Further away, I can see huge field emitters which generate a strong electromagnetic field, either to repel attacks, or to scramble hostile detectors. Next to them is a large particle cannon, and the little figure of a demon who is working next to it gives me a proper idea of scale. At a height of twelve metres, the cannon is enough to fry any attacker in an instant.
Beyond the horizon of the asteroid is the large flare of the ion engines which give the almost unmovable asteroid at least some way to propel its huge mass through a system. If it wasn't for Tartarus' ability to use an oversized warp engine, we would never get anywhere in a reasonable amount of time.
The scenery soothes my mind, and I return my attention to my skill tree. In truth, I've always had an idea on how to proceed with my abilities, but I was putting it off, hoping to get some form of confirmation that this is the correct path.
I could always take more bodily enhancements, but some of them seem pretty radical and would require brutal changes in my physical appearance. Like a larger ribcage to house more organs or devices. They sound nice, but the idea creeps me out. Having a tail, horns, and nano-adaptive armour as skin is more than enough.
Though, Silith really did a good job with this racial skill. Looking down at myself, I watch as the exaggerated uniform of a king turns liquid and solidifies into wide, comfortable clothes.
That's the route I have to take. No matter what we Demons do, as long as we don't master our own technology, we will always be slaves of the system. I put a lot of time and effort into researching nanotechnology, but the progress is slow and tedious. And the recent encounter showed that our time is running out. To be a proper leader, I need the mind for it.
I wet my lips and study my personal info. There are still two wishes to be made, though I have to be careful. The last time I used such a wish, I almost got my brain fried. “G.O.D., this is a wish, I want to know the basics of human nanotech!”
When there is no immediate answer, I start fearing that I made a mistake. Then a system message appears in my vision and something stabs into my brain.
G.O.D.: Be careful what you wish for. Some knives come without the grip!
When I come to, I am on the floor of the observation platform. Groaning, I sit up and get staggering to my feet. “Fuck. Never again!”
But when I think of nanotech, a vast pool of knowledge floods through my mind. It's not as much as I hoped for, but certainly more than I knew before. My direction is now clear.
I call up my skill tree and accept one skill after the other, sending me further down the Mental part of the technician side of my abilities. But none of the skills matter. Whether it's one more drone or a mental upgrade. What I seek is the synergy between the nanotechnology inside my body and a single skill, Nanodesign. All the other skills are just requirements for this one, and I have just enough points to get it.
My muscles twitch as my body tries to incorporate so many changes at once, but I ignore it. If Nanodesign is what I think it is, then it must be powerful. I've seen how good Silith's Designer class is, and the ability to influence the skills themselves is indeed a mighty boost. It's almost like a cheat if used correctly.
G.O.D.: New Ability unlocked! Nanodesign: You can design your own nanotech, takes up one drone-slot per kilogram of nanotech in your body.
It will practically wipe out my little army of drones, but the skill promises unlimited potential. Through my drone network, I get a bonus in mental ability for every drone I control. At first, I thought that creating an army of drones would put me on par with a feared A.I.
But my drones aren't optimized towards providing my mental network with upgrades. To increase my intelligence effectively I need other means.
I chuckle as new menus unfold in my vision, providing me with the ability to design my own nanotech. Kneeling down, I order one of my drones to come closer. Schematics of the drone's components appear in my vision and I copy the drone's nanoprinter.
Using it as a base, I design the first prototype, a mass of nanomachines with the ability to reproduce. Then I order the drone to cannibalize the others and to create a small block of nanorobots, this time of my own design.
The new unit comes online, but since it's not a drone, but rather a network of nanorobots, each is a little synapsis of its own. The new unit adds more calculation power to my mind than all the previous drones together. It's small and not much more than a block of nanomaterial. Not worth much in terms of construction work.
Bending down, I pick up the little block of nanotech. In my hands, it flows and fuses with my clothes to be easier to transport. Still invigorated, I order all the old drones to be replaced with this new design.
As the new nanomaterial is much smaller than the old drones, I am forced to simply throw the others out of the network. The three drones in my company provide more than enough raw material.
Halfway through the process, a new awareness strikes me and I realize that the prototype is flawed. There are ways to optimize the network, so I correct the mistakes in the second generation.
As my mind's horizon broadens and new options become available, I realize that there is no need for so much mass. The materials which my drones use normally are mere alloys. But like with my diamond armour, I can shape the nanotech atom by atom, ironing out the imperfections.
Half aware of the writhing blob of silvery, glittering nanotechnology at my feet, I watch as it becomes denser and I incorporate it into the tech within my body. The mass flows around my feet and seeps into me, making me a little larger and heavier.
A pearl of sweat drops from my brow, but I barely pay it attention as I watch it, frozen in front of my eye. There are more ways to optimize the nanotech, and I issue a third generation.
Unneeded mass is expelled from my body, returning me to my previous state. My energy is running low, but I am still connected to the unneeded nanotech. A thought is enough and it quickly forms into a power cord and attaches itself to a nearby wall, searching out the power-line.
Having now more than enough power, I issue yet another generation of improvements.
Realizing that by stacking the atoms just right, I can create an even denser meta-material, I redesign everything and send yet another generation of changes on its way. The improvements are outdated so fast that my tech can't keep up with the changes, but as my horizon widens, I realize new possibilities.
I open new schematics and dive deeper into the sea of possibilities. It takes agonizingly long for the drop of sweat to reach the ground and for the changes to take effect. The various iterations of nanobots flow past my mind's eye as I keep optimizing, seeking perfection. Infinite possibilities run through my mind and I just don't know where to start... or to stop.
A disturbance wakes me suddenly and violently from the seemingly endless procession of new iterations. For some reason, the newest changes don't take effect! Angered, I try to get rid of the flood of messages, menus, and submenus which cover my vision and return my attention to the real world around me.
I find myself screaming and my muscles twitching without my control. I cough and expel a little cloud of smoke.
“That was very stupid.”
Shaking, I look around and find Jill next to me. The girl has the power cord in her left hand, while the fingers of her right hand are buried inside a wound in my thigh, where she apparently ripped the cord out of me.
“Wha- Wh?” I utter intelligibly.
“Mind upgrades should be applied slowly and with the proper care. Each change should be tested and retested before making a new one. Preferably you should also have a backup of your mind. It's all too easy to end up in a loop and blue-out.”
“Blue-out?” I gasp.
Jill shakes her head and pulls her fingers out of my thigh. Holding up the cable, she smiles. “That's yours, Daddy. Mom says that dinner is ready and you are late.”
I reach out with a shaking hand and, with a thought, order the cable to form a belt around my waist. The nanotech was expelled, but it's still a part of me. When I look down, the wound is already closing and the fabric of my clothes weaving together above it.
Jill nods, seemingly satisfied that she stopped me from walking straight into the abyss of an infinity loop.
Only now the pieces slowly come together. I shudder at the thought that I almost turned myself into a Blue, but not one like Jill. I would have become one of those who are unresponsive and caught in their own thoughts. Like an idiot, I hopped straight down that road.
Looking down, I make eye-contact with my daughter. “Thanks?”
Jill laughs and claps my thigh, causing me to wince in pain. “No permanent harm was done. Just remember, there is no perfection. Just a convenient state of imperfection.” She turns and skips down the maintenance corridor.