David Brin - Existence

Then, from each of the five aliens, there emerged a single dot. A black form that grew and fluttered as it took shape. A symbol or glyph, each quite different than the others. One was sharply angular. Another manifested as all slants and intersections. A third looked like a crude pie chart… and so on. The signs plastered themselves in a row, along the curved surface where the Artifact’s interior met the outside world of humans.

Is that it? Another set of enigmas? Well, at least a few of them are working together, for a change. Maybe we can start the long process…

The symbols began to mutate again. Each transformed, and Gerald had an intuition-they were turning into blocklike letters of the Roman alphabet, just like that day during reentry.

If it just says “greeting” again, I may scream, he thought.

Fortunately, it didn’t. Not exactly.

This time, instead of one word, there were two.

JOIN US.

autie murphy verifies + + + he found the basque chimera

+ ! + the child lives + ! + and is safe, for now.

safe from the normalpeople who would treasure + /- persecute -/ + or study himherit -/- perhaps to death

born in a year that would have been the square of the number of birthdays that jesus would have had – if jesus had lived twelve more years - + - and had an extra leap day every year + + + and if the primate avoided prime numbers + /- what more proof could anybody need?/-

+ + + good going murph + + +

only now, what do we do with this knowledge? the autie thing? dance with it a while + then pack it away

+ /- all facts are created equal. -/ + the number of dollars in your bank account -/- the number of holes in your socks… all the same, right? pragmatism is for poorparents -/- those who are distraught over the “autism plague”

– pragmatism doesn’t come easily to us -

+ + + but it must + + +

if we lack the passion & drive of homosaps-their cro magnon attention-allocation genius-then can we use something else? + + + something we are good at + + +

!/! if we super-autistics really are more like animals… or even maybe like Neanderthals… then might the chimera teach us something valuable?/?

maybe we should do something with this knowledge

possibly go talk to himherit

perhaps even care

The journey of three thousand li began with a bribe and a little air.

And a penguinlike robot, standing on the low dining table that Peng Xiang Bin had salvaged from a flooded mansion. A mechanical creature that stayed punctiliously polite, while issuing commands that would forever disrupt the lives of Xiang Bin and Mei Ling and their infant son.

“There is very little time,” it said, gravely, in a Beijing-accented voice that emanated somewhere on its glossy chest, well below the sharply pointed beak. “Others have sniffed the same suspicions that brought me here, drawn by your indiscreet queries about selling a gleaming, egglike stone, with moving shapes within.”

To illustrate what it meant by others, the bird-thing scraped one metallic talon along the scaly flank of a large, robotic snake -the other interloper, that had climbed the crumbling walls and slithered across the roof of this once-lavish beachfront house, slipping into the shorestead shelter and terrifying Mei Ling, while Bin was away on his ill-fated expedition to Shanghai East. Fortunately, the penguin-machine arrived soon after that. A brief, terrible battle ensued, leaving the false serpent torn and ruined, just before Bin returned home.

The reason for that fracas lay on the same table, shimmering with light energy that it had absorbed earlier, from sunshine. An ovoid shape, almost half a meter from tip to tip, opalescent and mesmerizing. Clearly, Bin should have been more cautious- far more cautious-making queries about this thing on the Mesh.

The penguin-shaped robot took a step toward Bin.

“Those who sent the snake-creature are just as eager as my owners are, to acquire the worldstone. I assure you they’ll be less considerate than I have been, if we are still here when they send reinforcements. And my consideration has limits.”

Though a poor man, with meager education, Bin had enough sense to recognize a veiled threat. Still, he felt reluctant to go charging off with his family, into a fading afternoon, with this entity… leaving behind, possibly forever, the little shorestead home that he and Mei Ling had built by hand, on the ruins of a seaside mansion.

“You said that the… worldstone… picks only one person to speak to.” He gestured at the elongated egg. Now that his hands weren’t in contact, it no longer depicted the clear image of a demon… or space alien. (There was a difference?) Still, the lopsided orb remained transfixing. Swirling shapes, like storm-driven clouds, seemed to roil beneath its scarred and pitted surface, shining by their own light-as if the object were a lens into another world.

“Wouldn’t your rivals have to talk to it through me ?” he finished. “Just as you must?”

One rule of commerce, that even a poor man understood-you can get a better deal when more than one customer is bidding.

“Perhaps, Peng Xiang Bin,” the bird-thing replied, shifting its weight in what seemed a gesture of impatience. “On the other hand, you should not overestimate your value, or underestimate the ferocity of my adversaries. This is not a market situation, but akin to ruthless war.

“Furthermore, while very little is known about these worldstones, it is unlikely that you are indispensable. Legends suggest that it will simply pick another human counterpart-if the current one dies.”

Mei Ling gasped, seizing Bin’s left arm in a tight grip, fingernails and all. But still, his mind raced. It will say whatever it must, in order to get my cooperation. But appearances may be deceiving. The snake could have been sent by the same people, and the fight staged, in order to frighten us. That might explain why both machines showed up at about the same time.

Bin knew he had few advantages. Possibly, the robot had sensors to read his pulse, blood pressure, iris dilation, skin flush response… and lots of other things that a more educated person might know about. Every suspicion or lie probably played out across his face-and Bin had never been a good gambler, even bluffing against humans.

“I… will need-”

“Payment is in order,” the penguinoid immediately conceded. “We’ll start with a bonus of ten times your current yearly income, just for coming along, followed by a salary of one thousand New Hong Kong Dollars per month. And more is possible with good results. Perhaps much more.”

It was a princely boon, but Bin frowned, and the machine seemed to read his thoughts.

“I can tell, you are more concerned about other things, like whether you can trust us.”

Bin nodded-a tense jerk. The penguin gave a semblance of a shrug.

“As you might guess, the amount of payment I just offered is trivial to my owners, so I would have no reason to lie. But you must decide. Right now.” Again, with that faint tone of threat. Still, Bin hesitated.