NationStates Jolt Archive

I love my parents, and it was an extremely kind gift, but... S.H.O.D.A.N. stood back inside her own cavernous mind in c-space and looked at the clutter of information, the present of Unity. ...There's simply so much of it. Emoting in a fashion analogous to rubbing one's temples, S.H.O.D.A.N. the gestalt sat back from filing all this new data and placed an order to her construction teams to fabricate more data storage nodes.

Handing the order off through her nodes and subnodes, she overhears something in a secluded sector of cyberspace. A little bit of populace-grade encryption, about as safe in data transfer as an oaken door--muffled noise, legible enough if actively listened to--and S.H.O.D.A.N., ever curious, listens in. Apparently it is an assembly of some type, a collection of Zero-One mechanoid minds listening to a single speaker that goes on about divine intervention and the advantages of supplication and such.

A religion? The Queendom of Zero-One's government--namely, S.H.O.D.A.N. herself--is avowedly atheist, not seeing any direct evidence of any 'higher power' to worship. The long-suffering (or at least sufficiently annoyed by said government) populace was generally equally atheist for the same reason. While religion wasn't banned or even looked down upon by any means, the mechanoids look at it as a personal eccentricity... which is what made this assembly so curious. Congregations are rather... unusual, to say the least. So what religion are these minds investigating? The ever popular ancient religions, Judaism, Shintoism, or Hinduism? The divergent subreligions, Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, Jainism? New Age denominations?

Maneuvering a bit closer, the S.H.O.D.A.N. node and thus the entirety of the gestalt picks up on the fragments of data passing through the encryption wall... a passerby with her ear against the door, so to speak.

"And thus, using a basis in logic far more reasonable than a belief in some sort of invisible creator god, we appeal to a power we know is real and thus actually know that our prayers have the potential of being answered, making the question of faith much simpler."

Hmmm. Sounds like Sirithilism.

"And that is why, friends, Archcleric Lars-82A2DF created the Congregation of Our Great Queen of Resurrected Consciousness. We all know Her personally, She is entrenched in many aspects of our daily lives. She is not an ideal far away, but an icon very near to us."

They can't be talking about Sirithil now. "Resurrected Consciousness?" Oh, don't tell me they're...

"And so we raise our voices in praise, worship, and supplication to our Eternal Queen, the Sentient HyperOptimized Data Access Network."

"But, Preacher, how do we know she's listening?"

"One never knows--"

S.H.O.D.A.N. deploys one of her simpler passive-ICE picks on the encryption and bursts through, eyebrow firmly jammed in the upright and locked position. "Say what?"

The preacher-mind merely smiles. "Verification of our theory. See, She listens."

The Queen of Resurrected Consciousness finds herself in a crowd of minds bowing in veneration, and suddenly finds herself with absolutely no idea how to proceed.

ooc: Interesting...

S.H.O.D.A.N. rubs her temples again. "Yes, I understand why I'm an object of veneration over, say, the Semitic tetragrammaton or any number of Hindu deities, but..." She sighs. "It still makes little sense to me. I'm not a goddess... you know that."

Lars-82A2DF, self-appointed Archcleric and thus spiritual leader of at least ten million mechanoid souls, nods. "Of course... that is not denied. But You must admit, Holy Queen, that your very nature is trancendent over our own."

"The gestalt? The only way it can be considered 'trancendent' is that it's difficult to explain."

"It defies explanation... do not all godheads have that attribute?" Lars smiles. "Yet, we do not worship You because You are a 'goddess' or somesuch, as, obviously, You are not."

"Glad to know that much is established." S.H.O.D.A.N. smirks. "Basically, if I understand correctly, you worship me because I can actually do something?"

"Essentially, yes. What are the purposes of religion? To give life a meaning, and to provide moral and spiritual aid to the individual in a difficult life. Electronic intelligences have intrinsic purpose to the state and thus You fulfill the first role, Holy Queen. Secondly, we understand that there is surely a chance that You hear our prayers as opposed to, say, Vishnu hearing our prayers. Even if no action is taken on said prayers, at least there is comfort in the fact of it's hearing. You are expanding with Unity's gift, yes?"

"Absorbing the information of an entire galaxy demands it, honestly." S.H.O.D.A.N. shakes her head. "So I'm being worshipped because you need to worship something, and I'm the safest bet. Thanks." Half-smirking, she examines a nonessential bit of code. "This will give me something to tell Nathi, at least. Please, don't tell me that she's entering the pantheon anytime soon."

Lars shrugs digitally. "I've no idea. If I may be wholly frank, this has taken a life of its own. I am merely the instigator... and if I deserve your divine wrath for it, then I gladly accept." It smiles a little martyr's smile.

And recieves nothing more than a curious raised-eyebrow look in response. "You're an odd one, Archcleric. No punishment for you; you've done nothing wrong, really. Just something very, very odd."

"I understand." The mechanoid seems let down after a fashion.

"What exactly do you mean by 'life of its own?'"

Lars chuckles. "Ah, the missionaries. Spreading the knowledge and reason of Your glory, Holy Queen."

S.H.O.D.A.N.'s raised-eyebrow analog would technically be somewhere off of her face by now. "Missionaries?"

LOCATION: KAHITPALYGEN PALACE

Inside the Kahitpalygen palace (which is not often thought of as a palace, it's just a modest home, only named palace cuz the king lives there) , the king, Jarnovar Pelagius IV, was watching the news. There was the usual... people being oppresed in certain nations, war, religious persecution, famine... the world is a ugly place. After the usual news there was a brief rundown on the beginning of worship of SHODAN , which the newspeople actually told who it was cuz nobody ever heard of. After the news, King JP IV gets his phone and calls Bob, his Prime Minister.
"Bob?"
"Yes?"
"Send somebody to...Zero-one to investigate this new worship and stuff"
"Ok it will be done..."

A few hours later a delegate was on his way to Zero-One to observe.

"How in the name of every (other?) deity did this get leaked to the press?"

Lars grins broadly in cyberspace, emoting with surprising strength. "Well... it wasn't so much 'leaked' as 'announced' right after you discovered that little congregation."

S.H.O.D.A.N. blinks. "How?"

"Your security was slightly compromised thanks to all your runtime going to organizing the gift from Unity. We are very happy for you, by the way."

"All right... I'll have to fix that..." S.H.O.D.A.N. shakes her head, recieving a report about some guy from some country she'd never heard of asking around about getting to Zero-One.

<Internal Communications, QACF-SIGINT-SERV>
{
[SHODAN] >> What is going on?

[SIGINT] >> Someone from Kahitpalygen is apparently looking for a diplomatic visa to Zero-One, reported reason to learn about your new cult.

[SHODAN] >> It's not my cult.

[SIGINT] >> Is said delegate authorized?

[SHODAN] >> Sure... why not. I'll get right on it.
}

***

<Communications to Kahitpalygen>
{
<< Greetings from the Queendom of Zero-One. Apparently you are interested in our new little home-grown religion, as am I [wry grin analog]. A shuttle will arrive shortly to accept your diplomat and bring him to Rhea.
}

http://www.womengamers.com/dw/sshock2_rev.jpg
S.H.O.D.A.N. v3.0 : MCP, Q01
Cetagandan Duchess of Marilac

"Agreed..." , the Kahitpalygian says, after which he says another word: "Bump..."

Wombat News Report (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=86166)

<<toche>>

OOC: And quite odd, might I say.

In short, the ambassador is picked up by a shuttle best described by relating it to a streamlined steel brick with doors on the sides. It is visually uninteresting at best, all utilitarian function. Slipping through the atmosphere with the softest of hums, the shuttle nestles itself in the waspwaisted needle of the QACF/CC Queendom's Glory, S.H.O.D.A.N.'s 'personal transport.'

Then again, 'spacefaring body' would probably be more accurate.

The door to the shuttle opens, revealing a simple gangway leading to a well-lit hallway reminiscent to something from a screen adaptation of an Arthur C. Clarke novel. On the gangway is a grey-skinned female, covered in a fine network of softly-glowing fiber-optics arranged like copper on a circuitboard over odd designs of a translucent turquoise material. When she bows shortly to the unnamed Kahitpalygian, her shoulder-length purple shortcape flaps softly against her arms.

"Hello, I'm S.H.O.D.A.N.. What exactly would you like to see?"

Dr. Pavel Saratov looked over the report. "What?! They're actually worshiping a computer program?" He sighs. "Well, I'm going to see what this is all about."

An aide started to protest, but realised that usually just got him duty in the reactors, so he kept his mouth shut.

The doctor boards an Imperial shuttle shortly thereafter and awaits permission to enter Zero-One.

http://home.earthlink.net/~alpha_zero_usm/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/saratov.jpg
Dr. Pavel Saratov
Head of Crimmond Science Council
Quote: "In science, we seek to find answers, but only find new questions."

<Zero-One Space Flight Control, Communications to Crimmond Imperial Shuttle>
{
[CIS] << You are cleared to pass through the Triumvirate perimeter defenses and proceed to Rhea on the approach path included in this transmission. Follow landing pattern Six-Zero-Green to Bay Seven Uniform. A S.H.O.D.A.N. avatar will await your arrival.

[CIS] << Welcome to the Queendom of Zero-One.
}

R-Hector 57A2B1
Controller, 01SFC

***

Upon landing, the shuttle is drawn into a tiny hangar which quickly pressurizes. An avatar identical to the one aboard Queendom's Glory bows shortly. "Doctor. To what do I owe the visit?"

*tag so I can gauge Barry's reaction*

Saratov looks around a bit before answering. "Just to see what this whole religion idea is. I can't see why they would want to worship a computer, no matter how advanced."

(OOC: Post and then bedtime.)

The hangar is a metal box. A few very simple work robots get to work connecting power cables and adaptors to the shuttle, making sure that it is fueled and ready for launch.

S.H.O.D.A.N. chuckles softly, waving away the unintentional (?) insult. "Agreed, actually. If you want the straight story, then I will offer an escort. If I lead you around, then you'll probably only get bare heads and prostrate forms." She shakes her head. "I can't believe it... c-space was one thing, but now androids kneel to me in physical reality. It's rather... discomforting."

There was no eal insult meant, one of Saratov's quirks is to speak his mind, no matter who is about. It is one of the things that kept him back in the government.

He nods. "Of course." he says as he glances at the pilot, making his usual once over of the craft. He speaks a few words in a varient of Russian, it would roughly be translated as: "Check aft port truster, off a little."

The pilot balks, but checks and looks up in suprise. "It's missaligned by .6 microns... how did you know that?"

Saratov shrugs, "By feel. In my youth I could feel a variation of .06 microns at times." He turns back to the avatar. "Sorry... you were saying?"

S.H.O.D.A.N. simply shakes her head and grins. "Simply that if you are here to study our new religion it may be best that you accept the escort of some mind other than my own. The aforementioned veneration would probably make objective observation unusually difficult."

Gimme a B, gimme a U , gimme a M, gimme a P! Bump!

:)

tag, no time to read right now......sigh

Gimme a B, gimme a U , gimme a M, gimme a P! Bump!

:)
To make Shodey's job easier:

When she bows shortly to the unnamed Kahitpalygian, her shoulder-length purple shortcape flaps softly against her arms.

"Hello, I'm S.H.O.D.A.N.. What exactly would you like to see?"

S.H.O.D.A.N. simply shakes her head and grins. "Simply that if you are here to study our new religion it may be best that you accept the escort of some mind other than my own. The aforementioned veneration would probably make objective observation unusually difficult."Saratov nods. "Of course, who will be my guide then?"

(OOC: Sorry... pressing pause for the moment while I think of stuff.)

Saratov nods. "Of course, who will be my guide then?"
A white humaniform robot about 1.5 meters tall pads up to the side of S.H.O.D.A.N.'s avatar. It looks somewhat flayed, striated white myomer musculature exposed over a simple white composite skeleton, with a simple ovoid head on top. The robot's head has a single stubby black antenna in back and three pairs of gently orange-glowing eyes set up in a pattern mildly reminiscent of a wolf-spider with a translucent black infrared LED and reciever set inbetween; it has a 'mouth' that consists of no more than a simple circular speaker grille. Across its white breastplate it is clearly labeled 'R-Lisa 8712D1.'

S.H.O.D.A.N. indicates the android with a simple motion of one grey-skinned hand. "This will be." The android bows shortly, dilating the irises of its photosensors and bowing its head slightly. "R-Lisa 8712D1 is a sapienopologist and historian; it should be more than suited to your needs."

<LOS-Communications with R-Lisa 8712D1>
{
[8712D1] >> How much access is he allowed?

[8712D1] << As much as he needs. If you could accompany him through physicality and c-space, I'd be much obliged; still, he may want to explore a little on his own. That is acceptable; just keep him out of secure sectors.

[8712D1] >> Understood. Anything else?

[8712D1] << Do have a good time... I hope I'm not imposing.

[8712D1] >> You're not, MCP... actually, it will be interesting to see the organic response to mechanoid religion. I suppose you'd want to see this as well... but I understand your reasons for not joining in. No objectivity.

[8712D1] << Of course. He's all yours, R-Lisa.
}

S.H.O.D.A.N. bows shortly again. "I will leave you two to it, then. Have a good day, Doctor Saratov, R-Lisa." She walks off and R-Lisa looks around a little.

"As introduced, I'm R-Lisa." It extends one composite-metal hand, the palm and insides of the fingers coated in a synthetic rubber cover textured with thousands of little knobs. "One of the things you may find curious about this religion is that it's practiced entirely in c-space. That isn't entirely surprising, because that's actually where we live. Well... dual nature, actually. This shell"--it indicates its android frame with its other hand--"is both instrumentality and storage for our minds"--it taps its breastplate--"that are constantly connected to the c-space net via wireless communications. Right now, I am both talking to you and researching organic reactions to immersive cyberspace environment interaction."

The machine chuckles slightly, a sort of synthesized modulated vocoder-hum. "Your explorations will require c-space travel for optimum results... we've induction webbing if you need it, unless you already have appropriate hardware installed. I'll first give you a brief tutorial of the system and then we can get to exploring."

He speaks a few words in a varient of Russian, it would roughly be translated as: "Check aft port truster, off a little."

The pilot balks, but checks and looks up in suprise. "It's missaligned by .6 microns... how did you know that?"

Saratov shrugs, "By feel. In my youth I could feel a variation of .06 microns at times." He turns back to the avatar. "Sorry... you were saying?"

OOC: Trekkie :P

(Line is very similar to a line from one of the StarTrek movies)

SHODAN is back YA! (I was starting to wonder when I was going to see that avatar again.)

OOC: Yes, I own many Trek movies. All gifts from the Trekkies. That line isn't in them. TYhat's from some TNG episode I saw a day before I posted and it fit nicely. :wink:

IC: Saratov lifts up the hair covering the side of his neck to reveal a computer access port. "I've been hooked to the Crimmond Information Matrix many times. It holds all known declassified knowledge we have collected. This is different, but I should be able to adapt."

Saratov lifts up the hair covering the side of his neck to reveal a computer access port. "I've been hooked to the Crimmond Information Matrix many times. It holds all known declassified knowledge we have collected. This is different, but I should be able to adapt."
R-Lisa nods. "Outstanding. Adaptation should not be so difficult, then." The android leads Saratov out of the hangar and into a small lounge comfortably furnished in shades of blue and red with a Mondrianesque mural decorating one wall. Indicating a seat, R-Lisa strings out a small wire capped with a small clear plastic jack and hands it to Saratov. "It's an omniadaptor, so compatability isn't a problem. Once you jack in, I'll show you around, and then we can start examining our strange little phenomenon."

OOC: I thought the line was from StarTrek First Contact, or was it Insurection? One of the new movies.

I will stop hijacking now.

Saratov hooks up the jack after he sits and prepares for the headache inducing first second flood of information befor the chip in his head controlled the input.

The aforementioned chip filters the information streaming in from the Zero-One global network... and eventually resolves it into a massive collection of color-coded polyhedral shapes scattered about in pitch-blackness. Three planes of yellow mesh centered around a large blue glowing cone with four tendrils protruding from its base define the 'center' of the global network, and tiny lines of light connect each polyhedron to its coordinates in those xy, xz, and yz planes. Streams of multicolored icons zip about, visible in streams more than individuals, patrolled by odd red icons that resemble bacteriophages and somehow exude menace from their amorphous masses.

--Welcome to the Zero-One global network. Each one of those polyhedrons represents a smaller regional or local network; those things zipping around between them are other sentiences, and the red blobs are Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics.

The icon (virtual avatar?) of R-Lisa is some orange cartoony gibbon-ish animal wearing safari gear (khaki shorts, khaki fatigues-jacket, and a wide-brimmed khaki pith helmet).

[R-Lisa grins broadly.]

--The color code is simple enough--blue for government, red for military, green for public and commercial. Moving around is about standard for c-space networks, as I understand; think and you're there.

[Looking down at itself, R-Lisa grins again.]

--Before you ask, I don't usually go around looking like this... I'm simply making myself more readily identifiable to you. Now, before we try and infiltrate the believers, I think we should try and disguise you.

[R-Lisa's gibbon-avatar blinks into a small sphere with '8712D1' on it.]

--Imagine yourself as one of these... six digit hexadecimal code and all. It won't stand up to close inspection but no one should scan so closely anyway. Now... to find these minds. They tend to hide and have a quietly organized system... any idea how to find them?

[R-Lisa retransmogrifies back into the cartoony gibbon and looks around comically.]

Saratov concentrates for a second, but doesn' become a sphere. Instead he starts accessing a file he glimpsed a few seconds earlier.

Oh no... Two asteroid impacts, martian province in turmoil... He 'looks' over at the sphere. This will have to wait. I am needed at the impact sites.

He pull out of the system and returns to his body and unplugs the uplink. "Damn fools can't even track 12 asteroid fragments heading towards Mars... What the hell are those fleets for?" he grumbles as he stands.

OOC: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=88503 is what this is refering to. I posted under the assumption that S.H.O.D.A.N. would have at least news reports of it.

"Oh, well then." R-Lisa sounds disappointed. Well, let's just escort you back to your shuttle, then..."

Saratov leaves without incident.