The Omega Expedition - Brian Stableford [128]
The first problem was the Afterlife — from which most AMIs had as much to fear as posthumans, by virtue of their organic components. In much the same way that almost all posthumans had taken aboard some inorganic components, almost all modern machinery had some organic features. Thus far, none of those wholly inorganic machines that had been built specifically for the purpose of exploring spaces where the Afterlife was active had made the leap to self-consciousness, and the question of whether AMIs would ever be able to coexist with the Afterlife was unsettled, for the time being.
The second problem was that posthuman-originated AMIs were not the only ones that existed. When the posthumans aboard Pandora had made their first contact with another spacefaring alien culture — the only such contact, thus far — their unobtrusive companions had made a first contact too. Like the posthumans, the AMIs did not doubt that where there were two spacefaring species — even in a universe afflicted by the Afterlife — there had to be more. The consequence of that deduction was that much of the space available for AMI expansion might prove to be inhabited already.
The third problem was that an AMI diaspora would necessitate the export of large quantities of mass from the home system, unless large quantities were somehow to be imported in order to facilitate the evacuation. Agreeing export quotas and arranging compensatory imports would not be easy. If the AMI diaspora were to be combined with a posthuman diaspora — which would be courteous, if not actually necessary, whether or not the posthumans were given a voice in determining the future development of the system — these diplomatic complications would be doubled (or, more likely, squared).
Eido was apparently of the opinion that the various posthuman communities ought to have a very significant voice in deciding the future of the system, but Eido was a descendant of Proteus, the first AMI to make contact with the children of humankind. As Alice had already indicated, the home system AMIs that had avoided revealing themselves for centuries were mostly inclined to take the view that the decision rested with those who had the power to make it, and that the home system posthumans would have to make their choice between whatever alternatives were offered to them.
Even Eido couldn’t make an accurate assessment, but it had given Alice the impression that the AMIs were divided along much the same lines as the posthumans in their views of how the system ought to be developed. Some were in favor of making more heavy elements by means of quasisupernoval fusion, but others thought the risks too great. Some were avid to develop a type II civilization by enclosing the sun in a complex web of artifacts whose outermost surface would be a fortress against the Afterlife, but no two parties — perhaps no two individuals — could yet agree on the architecture of the proposed artifacts, while others thought the whole plan too narrow-minded. Some believed that the entire galaxy was ripe for the claiming by the first entities which solved the problem of the Afterlife properly, by figuring out how to make the Afterlife into a food source instead of the ultimate predator. The latter company wanted to throw everything into that particular race.
It was a lot to take in, but it certainly prevented the ongoing journey from becoming boring. I wasn’t sure how much Adam Zimmerman and Christine Caine were able to take aboard, but I assumed that they’d got the essentials. They seemed to take it a lot better than some of the others, who had far more stored-up illusions to shatter.
We mere mortals had the great advantage of not having been played for fools for hundreds of years, and I wasn’t the only one prepared to revel in that knowledge. That, I confess, was one reason why I was more inclined to believe it all than Niamh Horne or Solantha Handsel, whose voices were the loudest when my companions came to consider the possibility that the whole thing might be