NationStates Jolt Archive

//OOC: This thread will be making lots of references to the Omeldor-1, which, in a very general view, is a moon-sized space station, located in the outskirts of the Solar System (between Pluto's outermost orbit and the Kuiper Belt). You can find more detailed information here: http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Omeldor-1#Overview

The basic idea is that some of the mayor industries installed in the planetoid station are suffering from a severe lack of workforce, but the subject is actually intended to pivot around the issue of genetic alterations and clone rights. You may join as you see fit.

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"Desperate times call for desperate measures" Bluntly noted Uldolf ast Rur-vot-Unfar, Head Representative of the Federal Business Combine for the Omeldor-1 "We need workforce, and we need it fast"

"Yes, yes, you have said that already" Nodded the Migration Command Chief, Virke ast Fratz-vot-Farov "However, you have not yet explained the bottom reason"

Uldolf sighed "As I said before, we can not use ProdClones* here..."

He was interrupted by Istavold ast Bragarat, Security Command Chief "We have recently received direct orders from Mainland, which indicates that all ProdClone units must be deactivated and destroyed. Apparently, the psi emissions from the station's Corpus might cause a problem within their neural networks. They are being taken to the waste chambers as we speak"

"And that, as you can imagine, is quite inconvenient for me and my associates" Added Uldolf.

Virke though for a few seconds "Correct me if I am mistaken but, are not these ProdClones human beings?"

Both Uldolf and Istavold seemed surprised at first "Not anymore, according to the HP Protocol of 1,099. They are classified as 'semi-sentient commodities'"

"As always, our dear government helps us differentiate real humans from mere commercial goods" Said Ustalf Ustordolf, Health Command Chief, with a clear tone of sarcasm "This is shameful..."

Uldolf send an impaling gaze at him "Which is perfectly acceptable. They are not humans, and the sole thought of them being considered as one is preposterous" He cleared his throat, and turned to Virke "Anyway, as I was saying earlier, we need to open the migration barriers"

"I see" Said her "How many workers... sorry, ProdClones are being eliminated?"

"A little over ten million units. There are still two hundred thousand units left to keep the basic functions working, but they are being strictly monitored. Technically, we are eliminating the ProdClones which work at the manufacturing industries" Answered the Security Chief.

"Which is why the FBC is so worried about this issue. We have calculated our loses to be rise close to the fifty billion zecmas. The situation is critical" Added Uldolf.

The Health Chief tried to put asides his opposition to the ProdClone purges, and focus on the current subject "We must implement the appropriate means to control possible viral or bacterial vectors. Opening the barriers to migration is not that easy"

"Then implement the means! I fail to see where the problem is" Said Uldolf "Money certainly isn't"


*: ProdClone is the short version of "Production Clone". These are biomechanical creations, built up from genetically engineered human clones, which are breed in various ways for specific functions. Even though they are considered 'semi sentient' -their neural networks are plagued by nanobots that allow direct control and monitoring of them-, there are some who have been questioning the true reach of 'semi'.
They are used wide and far within the Technocratic Republics as heavy duty workforce, as the 'humans' prefer to focus on either light works, art, research or no work at all.

*tag- assuming that the moons artificial gravity is managed by cairn tarren technology as stated AGES ago*


Meanwhile near the core of the Omeldor the permanent workforce of 100 Tarren scientists kept a close watch on the just ever so slightly dangerous 'black hole in a bottle' that supplied and regulated the massive stations gravity.

A short (by Tarren estimation) man was sat at a large gray blue desk of almost antiquated buttons and lights, he was reeding the news from a small display projected onto the large, thick window in front of him.
Dja see the news?
a taller man, sat nearby ab inch deep in a pile of nameless bio-electric circuitry, the makings of a basic Tarren computer, he was examining one large flat piece of material of unknown function.
Which part of the news? The out-migration?, The underemployment?, The horoscopes?
Their burning about ten million of those clone-people... on orders from planet side.
the taller man rested the flat object on his crossed legs and stared off into space for a moment, he sighed;
well its a sin, but its not our sin.... you reported it right?
Its off our news stream, it must have been reported at point of locus, its de rules
he was distracted by a red flashing light on the console in front of him, he dilled up another set of buttons and the light was quickly extinguished.
eay-up, looks like old-reliable hit one point three gee again... ima gona flag it for replacement.

//OOC: Yes. All the Utility and Battle Moons are still held in place thanks to your graviton conducts system.

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Dácanoth Arcology, Chasma Boreale Depths, Chasma Dominia, Mars:

The commission, composed of scientist, corporate representatives, and a host of bureaucrats, walked slowly around the crystal domed containment room, looking inside it from a higher catwalk.
Five figures moved within it, four of them in a particularly frantic manner. One of them was clad in a heavy green suit and helmet, and held a large metal bar with both hands. Electricity cracked forth and back through the stun weapon.

"As you can see" Spoke the man walking in front of the commission, biotechnologist Gólonar of Nodória "The 'Clones are easily disturbed by the psi emissions of the fladd-2 biomechanical composite, which generates erratic, often violent behaviors" He made a hand gesture to a scientist standing next to a control panel. All of the sudden, the ProdClones stopped moving and became still "If we block the emitting source, they revert back to their security mode, remaining that way until an operator overrides the protocol" He nodded to the scientist "However, if we unblock it..." The 'Clones' body began to shake spasmodically, and they fell to the floor, loosing control over their nanosteel-reinforced muscles, entering a severe seizure attack "... the clash of the security system and the psi emissions generates such a conflict within their neural network that they become unable to properly control their bodies"

"And any idea on how to revert this?" Asked one of the businessmen.

"Reverting the state is not a problem, as we can restart their systems. However, the situation repeats over and over while the unit remains within the area of effect..."

"Which is..?" Asked the same man.

"Well over one hundred thousand miles from the Corpus" Bluntly said Gólonar "Which is more worrying, they get worse the longer they remain under the effect. This is wreaking havoc across their delicate neural networks" He made a gesture to the same scientist "Now; let me show you how far can this go"

Four men, clad in the same green suit as the one standing below, entered the containment room, taking away the seizing 'Clones. Then they returned, carrying a large metallic cylinder with the code ‘S2-006’ written in large black symbols on its side. They left it in the centre of the room, and then walked out.
The scientist operating the screen pressed series of buttons. With a loud hiss, the cylinder opened in a cloud of cold steam.

"Make it walk out" Ordered Gólonar.

To his order, the operator issued a command on the screen. From the still present steam, a shambling figure walked out, slowly. The various members of the delegation moved their heads in order to get a better look of whatever was walking out from the cylinder. As soon as they saw it, they turned their eyes in disgust.
The figure vaguely resembled a human, although ‘vaguely’ would be as far as it went. Its body was hideously bloated, with large, palpitating lumps of what seemed to be brownish brain material protruding all over it. Although the face was mostly intact, the top and back of the head were split open. A large, slug-like brain structure grew from the interior of the skull, to nearly touching the base of the back. Thick gray arteries grew in large, pulsating patterns across the oversized brain's surface, and a slimy, transparent substance oozed from within the cranium’s interior. Pieces of the artificial neural network could be seen here and there, embedded within the brain. Whether because of the weight of this formation or because it had lost its strengths, the creature walked so leaned forward that its twisted arms touched the floor.

"What you see here is Subject 2-006, the first unit we were able to keep alive long enough to study the effects of prolonged exposure to the fladd-2 psi emissions" His voice was impressively calm, in contrast with the horrified looks of the delegates "The massive protrusions you see all over the body, and that particularly big mass of grey flesh in the back, are actually composed of grey matter; that's it, the same that composes a typical human brain"

One of the scientists of the delegation stared at the creature in awe, and did not move his eyes away from it as he spoke "Are you saying that, somehow, brains... grew all over this thing?"

Gólonar considered the statement for a moment, and the nodded "Yes, we could put it that way"

"But how?" Asked the same previous businessman.

"You see, in order to produce the 'Clones' bodies, we use an artificial biological composite, the Fladd Composite you most certainly have heard before" He stared at one of the businessmen, who was a representative of Zikodia Biotech, the largest manufacturer of Fladd Composite "Now. The composite itself is unable to grow into anything, and thus we must program it by using nanomachines. The combination of both creates a mass of organic material capable of growing into virtually any kind of organ, tissue, and even bone structures. This, of course, includes brains" He took a deep breath "The composite was created to be controlled; it could not act independently. However, during the early construction phase of the Omeldor-1, we struck a discovery as marvellous as it was alarming: Fladd Composite could achieve growth independence. Incidentally, the first demonstrations of this sprouted up after series of Psi Seed were planted within The Corpus -a hundred-mile wide Fladd-based supercomputer, with characteristics not very different from a brain- by Der Angst engineers. These Seeds spurred a massive generation of neural networks like none seen before and, exponentially increasing the capacity of The Corpus. Somehow, however, this led to the birth of something I would not call sentience, but something very close to it" He scratched his head, and, for a moment, he gazed at the shambling creature, punctured by the impressed stares of the delegates "Upon conducting studies over the Corpus' organic matter, we discovered that the Fladd which composed it had dramatically changed: It could direct itself, not as a thinking being, but much in the way micro organisms do"

"But what does all that have to do with this horrid creature?" Asked one of the bureaucrats.

Gólonar shrugged "The unusual properties generated by Psi Seeds led to the creation of what we call Fladd-2, which is, in essence, self-supportive brain matter. We though originally that this Fladd-2 could be controlled by normal means, using the nanomachines embedded within it. But then we realised that, when in large concentrations -such as in The Corpus-, the composite itself could override our commands. If not for the intervention of the military, we would have lost the Omeldor-1 to its core computer. A couple of months ago, we received news from the World Station, which indicated that The Corpus was emitting strange signals. Upon further investigation, it was found that these were psionic signals. Although harmless to humans, ProdClones fell quickly to the effects of this: Their neural systems failed, their thoughts became erratic, and overall became severely disturbed by the emissions. Even though this situation alone was enough to keep everyone worried, those of us who have been delving into the properties of the Fladd-2 for a while could not avoid noticing the change in the 'Clones' organic structure. After series of studies, the verdict was solid: The psi emissions had not only affected the neural networks, but had also spurred the growth of Fladd-2 nodes between the Fladd-1 composite" He turned to the subject below, which slowly crawled in erratic paths around the containment room "We thought the nodes would be destroyed by the Fladd-1's strong defensive system. But they grew like cancer, eating away the Fladd and assimilating the remaining organic matter. Most subjects died early, as the Fladd-2 disintegrated their organs. 2-006 was the first to survive, since we managed to replace its organs with synthetic counterparts before it died. After a month of continuous exposure, what you see here is the result"

The Networks

The surroundings: A rather abstract mixture of black and white, angled surfaces and crude animations. Minimalistic in the extreme, the lovechild of a Film Noir and Pong, spiced up with a few nightmares.

In the middle of it, two presences. One a floating pyramid lacking any sense of symmetry. A drone, appropriately changed for this particular environment.

The other is vaguely humanoid in shape, except that it's minimalistic as well - A stick-figure under a wood of gallows.

Obviously not the most optimistic of individuals.

They talk.

Disgusting, the stick-figure says, letters leaving its symbolised mouth - There is no sound in this environment, even the crows flying over the gallows, occasionally feasting on the fly-covered stick-figures already hanging there in a black-and-white mist of buzzing, only screech by way of releasing strings of syllables, forming angled, sharp, black clouds in the gray sky, occasionally hiding the inappropriately bright sun.

Well, yes. But it's been like this for decades, the asymmetric pyramid answers, the letters forming randomly around it, melting out of its pitch-black skin. At least it's three-dimensional, unlike the stick-figure.

Yes, yes, I know. I also know that we did the same, kinda. With machines. But we kind of... changed?

Yes, much to my relief.

Enjoying your sapience, I see.

As to be expected, no? Anyway. Having been in a similar situation-

Please.

Ok. In a comparable situation-

Better.

... Would you mind letting me finish?

No problem. Go on.

... Good. So, as I-

I'm just listenin-

SHUT UP! You ruin the gloomy mood. Anyway. Yes, I'd agree that FTR's clone system is, ah... Not particularly likable.

And the general populace would agree. It'd be kinda impossible to keep our cooperation up with the general public considering FTR to be a Reich-alike.

Indeed. As a matter of fact, we're already rather close to this point, as far as I can gather from the general media.

Quite so. So... Recommended course of action?

Watch. According to our - Admittedly minimal - presence on Omeldor 1, they're having issues with their clones, courtesy of our own, ah... interference with it.

I remember. They kept it subsapient, didn't they?

Yes. Another thing we're not happy with. Imagine the possibilities if sapience is achived! Anyway, I don't think that we should go to action all by ourselves - It's better to wait until we're asked to help. I've considerable connections - If they ask, I will know.

Perfect. Still, it'd be nice to know more.

Well, I can get someone to seed parts of Omeldor 1 with reconnaissance. But it'd be noticed - FTR isn't exactly in the stoneage.

True. There another option, though. Have us connect directly to the core.

Given what has happened to it, this might be risky. You'd need a specialist. A ship, ideally, anything with less resources would be dangerous.

I'd have such a specialist available...

Oh? Well, I'll be glad to hear of the results, then.

Kuiper Belt

It was a mixtue of exotic radiation. Still EM based of course, but with properties that were kind of beyond the usual, and mixed with a few other ingredients - charged particles for once - touching the target, a mere asteorid.

A pointless endeavour. There was nothing to be gathered, no intelligence to be played with, nothing to be effectively manipulated.

There was no challenge.

Still, atoms changed their properties, currents developed, matter emitted exotic particles. For a few microseconds, there was a kind of information flow developing inside the once-inert matter - But it was mere nonsense, chaotic, its practical value zero.

It was also slow - The dirty snowball, enriched with various minerals, was hardly equivalent to high-end computronium - and terribly limited in essentially every regard.

When the fields retracted, the whole system collapsed, and the asteorid became as inert as it had been before, instantaneously, only its temperature had been raised by a fraction of a kelvin.

Still, it was a feat - Few, if any, others were as skilled with their fields to manage such a result with inert matter utterly unsuited for the task - and the LEU - Limited Exploration Unit - Hostile Takeover could be reasonably satisfied with itself.

The message arrived seconds after it'd finished its self-imposed training schedule, and had it actually kept its human body on board, it'd have smiled.

As it was, it didn't smile, but it could still feel the joy racing through its internal structures, and its changed its - Lonely - course schedule.

ETA was somewhere in the range of two weeks, depending on its velocity preferences. And its drives needed a checkup, anyway.

"Stop them! Shoot them down!" Ordered the squad leader, magician Ídgorond of Cirpádia.

"But, sire, we were ordered not to harm the 'Clones!" Responded back one of the soldiers, trying to keep his aim over the frenzied ProdClones.

"Good heavens, soldier! Can't you see they are maiming those men alive!? Take them down, now!"

The soldiers looked at each other: They had been strictly told not to harm any of the 'Clones, and that any disobedience of those orders would be severely punished.
Exasperated by the soldier's doubt, Ídgorond rose his right arm, which quickly became surrounded in crackling bolts of electricity, that hastily cycled around the extremity. The soldiers in front of him hurried to step aside, just in time to escape the thundering discharge of lightning that was projected from the magician's fingertips. Five bolts arched almost instantly, piercing the 'Clones' bodies once and again, tearing their bodies apart in scorched pieces of infected Fladd and molten circuits. In less than ten seconds, the seven ProdClones lied on the ground, their pieces mixed with those of the dead civilians killed before.

Clearly exhausted, Ídgorond dismissed the soldiers' surprised stares "You took too long" He advanced with long steps, his red and orange robe flowing behind him. The soldiers followed, hastily.

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Quick Overview on "What a ProdClone is":

The name ProdClone stands for "Production Clone". These units act as perhaps the most important industrial tool of the Technocratic Republics. A quick definition of a ProdClone would be:

Biomechanical, multi-purpose working unit, manufactured from highly modified human clones. Sentience is taken out at birth, point during which they are programmed to their specific tasks.

There are four kinds of basic Clone Models, worked and perfected over centuries of genetic experimentation, which are used to spring off the main 'Clone groups: ProdClones, WarClones, SpellClones, and HabClones, although the last ones have had little or no success within the nation (they were originally intended to serve as social entities).

The Clone Models are, during their vat-growing state, very similar to human beings, with the exception of a highly modified genetic code in certain areas -depending on the kind of 'Clone that will be created-. During the "birth" process -when they are taken out from the growing vats-, they are implanted with an artificial neural network, which suppresses will power and self-awareness, at least to the degree where it becomes useful -they still require a small amount of capacity in order to work as intended-. The same neural network is then loaded with the "New Mind" of the 'Clone, which contains every bit of information the unit would need to perform the desired work (for example, how to operate a crane, or how to differentiate between two different kinds of chemicals). The following step is to re-engineer the body, through the implementation of various kinds of wetware, thus effectively creating the perfect biomachine for the job. A rough estimate calculates the efficiency of a ProdClone unit to be from five to ten times that of a typical human worker.

The HP Protocol of 261 S.R. established that 'Clones do not fall in the "Human" nor in the "Sentient" category, and thus they can be traded as commercial/industrial/military goods freely.