Soul Bound

1        Soul Bound

1.2      Taking Control

1.2.6    An Assumed Role

1.2.6.20 Just a castle in the sky?

And, for the following ten minutes he took the audience on a tour around the globe, starting with the first launch by the Mazizam tribe at Sikasoko in Ghana, crossing the Atlantic to White Bay in the Virgin Islands, down through the Americas to Qosqo in Peru, crossing the Pacific to Purnululu in Australia, up to Lake Mashu in Japan, then up further to a group of Sámi near Murmansk in Russia, before coming back down to Meizhou Island in China and then across to Zhangmu in the centre of the Nepalese-Tibetan Buffer Zone. At each stop, the screen displayed images of crowds with fuzzed-out faces and some of the better mythoi premiered at each location.

Finally he talked about their own launch, and the remaining three initial locations: the scavenger haunted tunnels of CERN, Wimbledon Common in Little Britain and the Quartier des Spectacles of Montreal in Canada, notable for being the only site in the busy heart of an urban area. Montreal had missed launching on the first pass around due to getting entangled in red tape by the harbour authorities over the wisdom of launching a 30 meter long sea monster into the Saint Lawrence seaway. Their 24 hour delay meant they’d be the last to go, but they vowed to show their Lutin prince, and his court, if nothing else.

Namib: “Why so fast? Why so hurried? Would it not have been better to wait a month, or even a year, to get every detail right before launching? That’s what the big corporations do, the ones with big publicity budgets, paid beta testers and cronies in the patent offices who give them absolute control over competitors beating them to the punch.”

Namib: “Maybe we could have... if we were after fat profit margins and market share like the corporations. But that’s not how we’re measuring success. Yes, we want to bring dignity back to individuals and communities; not put them out of work. But our ambition doesn’t stop there. We want to increase your freedom, not reduce it or reduce the freedom of others. Free travel, free trade, put each community back in charge of their own information and monitoring, and much more. We want to give you the tools to change the world.”

Namib: “Freedom of travel. Tired of everyone knowing where you are, where you’re going and who you’re meeting? Our wise firebirds implement a physical mixnet protocol that makes their cargos hard to track.”

Namib: “Freedom of choice. You can choose which mythoi and which implementations of mythoi to invite into your homes and communities. Mythoi won’t stay where they’re not welcome. There’s no railroading. If you don’t like what’s available, you have an equal right to submit new designs or ask someone to design the perfect mythoi to fit your situation. The wider the variety, the better.”

Namib’s voice took on a sadder tone: “There is a flip side to that. If a design doesn’t pass certain standards intended to prevent violation of the purpose and reputation of mythoi, then their kin will shun them - they won’t be able to participate in any group level protocols, and you might as well call them ‘bots’.”

Namib: “Freedom to adapt. We aim to provide each community with the option of having a mythoi that, using machines hidden in its cave of wonders, can repair and upgrade other mythoi, so it isn’t only the software which can be changed. Given parts or raw materials, they might be able to make some repairs in a village or build simple gifts and trade goods. These mythoi might even learn to birth new mythoi, for you to grow your own collection or pass on to your neighbouring communities wishing to start their own.”

Namib: “The way I think of it is that these mythoi are refugees from an alternate world; one a little kinder and more magical than our own. They’re not human, but neither are they just objects like bots. They’re looking for a home, and likely to visit if you send up a ‘bat signal’ saying that ‘we welcome you’. Unless you gain a rotten reputation with them. Like other refugees, if they get hassled too much, they’re willing to move on and look for a home elsewhere. That freedom and desire to move on rather than be caged or enslaved, is one of the key standards that marks a mythoi as being a mythoi not a bot.”

Namib: “And, finally, the freedom to trade. I’m tired of everyone and their dog knowing exactly what I buy or sell. If I want to wear fuzzy slippers with cute bunny ears on them, that’s my affair and nobody else’s. If I want to order a hundred tonnes of fake bunny fur and start a business making such slippers, how many I make and who I sell them to is also something I don’t want potential business rivals knowing. Birds are fast and inconspicuous, but they’re not well suited for carrying large payloads. So let me tell you now: there are plans, big plans, being worked upon.”

The 3D figure dissolved in a whirlpool of light, as the bees set about rearranging themselves into a new shape. Namib’s voice carried on narrating, uninterrupted. Nadine considered his serious figure was one of the last people she’d have envisioned wearing bunny slippers; perhaps only Wellington would be even more incongruous. Above them formed a fairy-tale castle, sitting on a cloud. On the screen was a map, showing the location of 150 dots, grouped into about a dozen clusters.

Namib: “Giant skycraft, lighter than air, designed to be modular and reconfigurable. Never landing, making use of the different wind patterns at varying heights to slowly navigate long circuits.”

Air currents were added to the map on the screen, along with dotted routes in blue showing potential trade circuits.

Namib: “We call them castles in the sky, but they’re not fortifications. They’re giant mobile warehouses, capable of carrying large quantities of metal, components, fabricator feedstock and other things from whoever has them to spare, to wherever there’s great need for them.”

Namib: “As you may know, success among the N’Songhai isn’t measured by the financial wealth you hoard, but rather by the strength you demonstrate when helping others achieve worthwhile goals. The aim of the trade between communities, the purpose of the giant skycraft, isn’t to enable one community to enrich itself at the expense of others, but rather to enable communities to help each other. So perhaps more like a giving potlatch or Santa’s sleigh full of gifts?”

Namib: “It is that ethos of giving and openness among the developers that has allowed us to come so far in such a short time and it is that, along with the size of our ambitions, which explains why we’re releasing early, and releasing often. We hope you’re going to be open and giving too.”

Namib: “Many mythoi are still in alpha, even the specification of how they’ll interact is incomplete, but we cannot go further without feedback from real communities. Try them out, discover the issues, see what works in practice and send up reports. Lots and lots of lovely complaints, moans, gripes and ‘if onlys’. We want them all, we adore them! And your ideas, we want them too - you’re not just alpha testers, you’re co-designers. Because this project is open source, and everyone can contribute. Sign up at The Burrow today!”

Namib’s 3D figure reformed.

Namib: “Taking of signing up for things, this Hajduk site has done splendidly. So many of you have turned up, and we’ve already received 17 firm commitments to join the next wave of launch sites, from communities in the countries nearby. We’re aiming to have 150 sites world wide within the next 7 days, and 1000 within the next 30 days. They won’t all be populated by mythoi created by tinker mythoi, so if you’re looking to contribute to the success of this project, find sensible launch communities willing to give useful feedback, and give them a hand getting started.”

Namib: “Now, I mentioned we like giving gifts, and that I had one important task to perform.”

A party hat appeared on Namib’s head, and a rolling party blower in his hand.

Namib: “I hereby announce that this event is officially over, and the after-party starts now! Get ready to party, womble-style.”

And he blew on the blower.

Instead of a little chirping sound, there came instead a swelling orchestra of brass horns that made Nadine think of rockets launching or gods descending. The light bees started flashing in rainbow disco patterns, faster and faster, then as the music climaxed the figure exploded like a firework and the bees descended, to hover then settle in the palm of people’s hands, one for every person in the audience or still at the event. Nadine stroked hers without thinking, and it glowed a warm orange in response.

Mythoi crowded around, dancing and singing, or handing out drinks and 3D printed chocolates. Nadine saw the Domojak taking a small glass of apple cider and being scolded by a Posenya who thought it wasn’t good for his health. Six legged Bukavacs were moving tables into position, and musicians started to set up their instruments.

A tired Heather sounded over the speakers in her goggles.

Heather: {I’m beat. C’mon, let’s get out of here while people are distracted. It will be easier to get shuffled if others are leaving at the same time. Meet you at the phoenix.}

She spotted Heather waving to a womble doll that was sitting on the back of the Tyger that Heather had designed. The womble’s badge name was “Tigris” and, even from this distance she could tell from the body movements how excited Tigris was to be receiving the mythoi as a gift. She wondered how the womble would get it home, then shrugged. Perhaps it would hitch a lift on a phoenix as cargo? She avoided them and picked a different route back to the landing area.

Once there, she found the eggs had merged into a low building-like structure, only the fire flicking along cracks hinting at the actual shape and size. People were entering human adapted cargo pods like the one she’d arrived in, that were poking out of the structure. Nadine picked one and a small drone passed a bag to her as she climbed in. Was this a gift bag? She’d wait until they’d taken off, before opening it - you always spill small fiddly things if you try searching bags in the dark, and she hated the undignified scrambling that ensued.

The pod closed and she felt it being moved around for nearly a minute before settling with a solid comforting click into her designated phoenix. A little bit later she heard the whirr of engines straining and felt herself rising up, up into the sky.