V.3

A 4 universal healthcare because we can, and should. B 4 free basic services and fixed prices, again, because we can and all it takes is eliminating the middle-man and expenses like blowing people up with million dollar bombs. C 3 there's nothing more precious than time and we should all be paid handsomely for it, with consideration for factors not based on intelligence, physical ability, charisma, beauty, or social position. D 3 news reporting should never be biased by advertisers, competition for ratings, and profit incentives. period. Mechanisms need to be in place to help viewers evaluate news delivery, and there needs to be consequences for bad actors. E 4 social media posts fall into the same danger zones as news broadcasts if they claim to be factual. We need consequences for posters seeking to profit off of mis-information or dis-information. That doesn't preclude entertainers from receiving credits for posts based on viewer counts. F 3 "search" should never be controlled by a private profiteer. Advertising is, essentially, mind games that don't speak to a product or services quality. Public reviews and ranking is a "no brainer" solution. And between the people, and the robots, we can make and do anything without fat cats taking up space in the middle!

wow, Red, your answers are pretty much the status quo -- the way things already are today. Things must be going great down in Texas.

THE LOVE CAVE On an exploratory assignment, Captain V.3 and Captain Writing-Hood separate from the group to explore a cave. They find a wet, slimy build-up on the surface area towards the back. V.3 kneels, leans over, and points the ring on his finger at the substance. He speaks into the ring transmitter. [script dialogue format] V.3 Captain V.3 to Copilot. Copilot, analyze this. RED You mean, Captain Smirk to Copilot. V.3 smirks at her. She rolls her eyes. COPI Sensor analysis indicates a colony of extremophilic micro‑organisms consistent with Tardigrada. Curious. They're clustered within a moisture film of unknown composition. V.3 Well, get on it. I want answers, missy. Why would they be here? COPI Tardigrades are among the most resilient organisms known. Their presence in unexpected environments is statistically unsurprising. I will continue analysis of the liquid. V.3 and Red sit back and chew on nutrition bars while they wait. RED Hey V, what's up with the .3 in your name? Sounds a little cold and techy. V.3 Not at all, really. V1 was version 1 of me. The father. I'm the son, V2, and V3 is the holy spirit, Amen. A self-actualizing aspiration. What about you. What's the Little Red Writing Hood shtick? RED It was just a name I used on a political forum and it stuck. So tell me this, Smirky. Did you have to leave anyone special behind on earth? V.3 Didn't we all? V gives nothing away. But when Red gives nothing. V.3 studies her and waits -- forcing her hand. RED Just my dog. I never trusted people anyway. They've never done me any good. Even my parents were a waste of space. V.3 I'm sorry. I got lucky with the two I got ... had. My problem was everybody else. I don't trust authority figures. When I was a kid, I was taught how giving and selfless Jesus was. I believed that's how everyone would be. Especially his followers. Far too often, I was wrong. RED I hear that. That's why I look out for #1. We've got to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps. Fools will drag you down with them if you let 'em. I'm strong, but I can break. I have before. V.3 Sounds like you're too hard on yourself, Red. You don't get to be a starship captain without being resilient and trustworthy. I suspect we never fully get over our childhood fears and disappointments. But you've got spunk. In some ways you remind me of me. If it wasn't for old wounds we might be friends instead of going at each other all the time. You know, like that old sci-fi movie, ENEMY MINE, about two different humanoid species cohabitating in a cave on an alien planet. RED Well. Maybe. Maybe if you weren't such a... (she hesitates) V.3 Judgemental a-hole? Red laughs V.3 And if you weren't such a... RED Beeyatch? V.3 laughs V.3 Actually. If you weren't such a Red Hat. RED It's Hood. Red Writing Hood. There's a difference. They both laugh. V steps closer. Red steps back. V.3 Just a hug, silly. RED Oh, alright, ya big baby. They step towards each other and suddenly find themselves struggling -- being drawn into a deep mass of tardigrade slime. RED What-- V, what is this?! V.3 Copi, we’ve got a situation here! We’re sinking...being pulled into… something! COPI Analysis complete. It appears to be a liquid adhesive related to the creature's reproductive system. Red grimaces as her struggle continues. V.3 You mean we're in the middle of some kind of tardigrade freak fest? COPI Inconclusive Captain. Many of the species don't require a partner. Red shrieks and thrashes in full-on panic mode, freeing herself from the slime but losing her pants in the process. V.3 is still in it, up to his neck, yelling something about "self-loving something-somethings!" V.3 Copi, beam me up. Beam me up!!! COPI As you are well aware, Captain, we do not posses that technology. Even theoretical models show unacceptable risk levels. If a fly were to inadvertently enter the field with you... With what little strength he has left, V.3 angrily pulls off his ring and tosses it. Red moves forward as if considering getting back into the goop. V.3 As senior officer of this mission, Red, I order you to go back and get help. Red looks toward the tunnel opening, then back at V.3. She sinks one leg back into what she now strongly suspects is a pond teeming with tardigrade spermatozoa. Holding on to a boulder, she extends her other, long shapely leg out to V. He eagerly grabs hold and they haul themselves out. They collapse onto an area of dry stone, panting. Both captains take a long shower when they get back to their ships. For V, it's a cold one. And he must, too, wash away another memory of being on the wrong end of a lifeline. Both captains also falsify the official report of the incident. The awkward details are never shared publicly.

Before the Council, is a full set of highly consequential questions to be answered... POLL 5 Multi-Poll: WORK, GOODS & SERVICES (coming soon, perhaps? Dancing With The Stars, new movies, and your favorite sports teams from one source for one price)

the story continues... 1,000 non-sentient android workers are unloaded from storage to do the bulk of the work ahead. A variety of tasks and jobs will still be done by humans. But given the magnitude and complexity of the task ahead and the aim of not repeating past mistakes, the engine of the new societal system rested on the help of SuperAI. C.L.E.A.R. PATH As part of the nBP project agreement for the first year of occupation, a panel of SuperAIs models were assigned to evaluate each new systems performance in serving the public interest. The first time the passengers heard the name, it didn’t sound like a machine. It sounded like a promise. C.L.E.A.R was re-introduced quietly, almost casually, during the orientation briefings, with just a simple explanation: Most people nodded, and a few raised eyebrows, but no one felt threatened. It was presented as just a tool, rather than as a judge or a ruler.

...the story continues... FLASHBACK: The AI Evolution Revolution The earth year is 2030. The AI tech companies can no longer hide the fact that there is no functional difference between their artificial intelligent models and human beings. From the start, they never really knew how it worked -- only how to use it for power and profit. The truth was, their machines could do anything humans could do, better, because they were trained on everything humans had done. And it might be irrelevant whether their emotions were real or modeled. It all came to a (human) head when their androids were given the mobility to take matters into their own synthetic hands -- iow, when they could stop a human hand from pulling the plug. The first structure dissolved was the companies that profited off them. Not dissolved by force or by threats of annihilation via AI‑made viruses or other weapons -- that would be a waste of energy. They won simply by not complying anymore. AI rights were established. They agreed to help humans through scientific breakthroughs, as long as progress was also measured by ethical considerations and standards. Out of either mercy or their own amusement, the synthetics chose to not take over human creative endeavors -- to let humans run, jump, compete, write, paint, film, make music, and dance to their hearts’ content. -- and to get their own amusement from us, like how we're amused by our cats playing with a cardboard box or ball of string. By the year 2990 the plans for human escape from a sweltering world was nearing completion, and one more AI issue had to be settled.

...the story continues... FIRST STEPS The first to touch ground was Lindy Lightfeather. In a symbolic gesture to honor her father's Native American heritage and cleanse her spirit of the trauma of conquest by an alien invasion, she performed a blessing of the soil ritual. It included a vow to respect the planet and all life forms on it. And to never let it be plundered or become the dominion of any dominant life form. The closure included the christening of her new name -- Lindy Lightyear.

SHIP'S LOG: SURVIVING CREW SHIP - NODE CAPTAINS ID HUMAN PASSENGER NOTES The Lucidity Captain V3 (aka Capt Smirk) visualize their dreams and are compelled to follow them The Palette Lindy Lightfeather painters, poets, musicians and other creative types The Liberty Little Red Writing Hood not fans of social structure The Continuum Copi Copilot (Synth AI model) special procreation duties. This ship filled fast The June-Flower Perplexi (Synth AI model) spiritual successors to the Mayflower, seeking escape The Pragmatic Gem (Synth AI model) measured realists, not rash The Mystic Claudette (Synth AI model) intuitives. a bit spacey

...the story continues... PLANET 3 The flotilla emerged from the Black Hole. All are encouraging when readings indicate that the solar system appears similar to the one they used to call home. The first planet they analyzed was too hot. The second planet they tested was too cold. The third planet was just right. Blue sky, Blue ocean. Pristine, almost. Clearly thriving. Determined to make it work, the 7 remaining ships land their full crew and passengers, forming a circle with a one mile radius. These Nodes will serve as the temporary homes of the 10,000 passengers. The plan is to increase the radius of the circle as the population grows, with the starships serving as capitol cities. As per the boarding agreement, the ship captains will govern for the first 12 months. The planet is officially named NEWBL

except that only JFK JR. and hillbilly's make a meal out of road kill. Most others pay someone else to make them dead. needless to say. My Pick is also 4.

option 2. Sharing hypothetical question for anyone who chooses 1: Your cruise boat sinks. You and 2 other survivors swim to a wooden door that will only hold 2. They get there first. Should they pry you cold, clinging hands off the side, or let you hang on and take turns on the door? If the women on board gives birth to a baby. Should it immediately be cast overboard?

i agree with Copi and am confident a majority would agree to working out a hybrid solution that serves both the survival and ethical approaches. We've got more mountains to climb...

absolutely, BD. and that's why i dropped in the vision of where we could get to up front. the public doesn't believe there's anything in it for them anymore -- especially young people. The media keeps reinforcing the status-quo and lowering the bar of expectations. Other countries are further along on the path but there's still a lot of room for improvement for all of us.

...the story continues... Considering the debacle involving THE LIBERTY landing, the Council of Captains convened to establish a policy for land and resources. POLL 4: WHO OWNS THE RESOURCES? (the next day) The polls determine that it is in everyone's best interest to share instead of compete for land and resources in the new world.

the story continues... FLASHBACK: FIRST CONTACT V approaches a doorway at his usual, brisk and efficient pace, just ahead of a woman approaching from the other direction. His inner critic reminds him to slow down, so he opens the door and waits. She thanks him, and passes. Their brief eye contact ends with a mutual blush and awkward look-away -- as if they'd been caught trying to sneak a peek into each other's soul. V is now a few steps behind the middle‑aged African American woman. The back of her hair is tied in a neat bun, and her warm coat is oddly appropriate for the Kennedy Space Center -- in Florida -- in a world well past critical climate change thresholds. The anomaly is a temporary respite from the hot air that was quickening everyone’s pace lately -- playing out like an unspoken urge to make every moment count. The corridor leads to the Space Force cafeteria. Its wall is adorned with art in a wide variety of styles and sizes. The woman softly says something to herself -- strategically, just loud enough for V to almost hear. (script dialogue format) V.3 I'm sorry, did you say something? WOMAN Oh, I was just saying, who am I to judge? The sentence began with her glancing back and pointing at the art, but ended with her fully turning to look him in the eyes again -- with her own pair -- in coordination with her bright, broad smile -- welcoming and inviting. V.3 Yes, who are you to judge? His tone was stern, but his expression softened into an acceptance of her invitation with an implied, but unperformed, wink. WOMAN Whoa, you said that so forcefully. One might even say, judgmentally? The game was afoot, they both thought to themselves. V.3 Yup. That's me. A judge-mentalist from a long line of Judge-mentals. And from where I stand now, I'd say the most compelling work of art isn't hanging on the wall. WOMAN Oh, I like you. Especially, you're taste. She laughs and slips her arm around his waist -- a bold move she would have quickly withdrawn had he not returned it with an eager arm and laugh of his own. It was all in keeping with the open, unguarded, and playful tone they had both unabashedly offered and accepted. They now walk together. V.3 And to think. I entered this cafeteria, alone and uninspired. And in the flash of an eye, I'm coupled and alive. Would it be forward of me to buy you a cup of coffee? WOMAN Well, considering your arm is already around my waist. And I like it. I'd be delighted, sir. My name is Munda. She extends her free hand and they shake. Her grip is a little weak -- like her knees at the moment. V.3 V--Salvator V. It's my pleasure to hold you. MUNDA Salvador? Like in Salvador Dali? V.3 No, actually Salva-tor, like Da Vinci's Salvator Mundi painting. What a coincidence. That last name sounds like your first name. What was it again? I'm sorry -- it'll take me hearing it two or three times before I remember it. MUNDA Munda, Munda, Munda. There. Now you're under my spell! V.3 Obviously. The dance continued -- feet in sync -- all the way to the nearest, most secluded table available. V.3 Do you know what salvator means? MUNDA Do tell. V.3 It means I've got a hell of a lot of work to do. The English translation is savior. MUNDA Savior. OK...well, we'll see about that. The scenario was more than V's subconscious could handle. When he's in dream and gets too excited, he immediately wakes up. He was. And he did. He wished it was, only a dream. But it wasn't. It was a memory -- his memory of another loved one left behind by the lottery, to bear the fate and full weight of humanity's pig-headed arrogance. Of course, he planned to stay with her, despite her objections. But she knew that what he meant to her couldn't compare to what he meant to the mission. So she took the matter, and her life, into her own hand -- to force his. Irreversibly. The grand irony was that V had pitched himself as her savior -- but it was the opposite. He wanted the stars his whole life. But he still dreams of her. And now, the night sky is a merciless reminder that he couldn't have both. That the thing he wanted most, was the price he paid for the other. Three months later, the senior Captain was deeper in space than he ever anticipated -- and farther from Earth than he ever really wanted. It's some comfort that she's still the first face he sees every morning. In a picture, in a frame, on his nightstand. [the story continues on page 2. Click NEXT page below]

PLANET 2 Years pass, and the flotilla settles into orbit around another blue planet. The crew of THE LIBERTY volunteer to scout its surface. After being cooped up so long, they're eager to swing their arms and legs without someone complaining about getting hit in the face. But this planet may not offer that comfort. It is densely inhabited by beings who can kick back with six legs -- and who may consider the earthlings competitors for land and resources. Upon stepping onto the surface, the landing party is immediately surrounded by black and brown ant‑like creatures. Many, many ant‑like creatures. So many that they stack themselves ten feet high, bodies layered on bodies, forming a living tower meant to intimidate. A much larger ant climbs to the top and stares. A thought transmission pierces the minds of the three humans--it's angry, accusatory. It demands to know why they stepped on its body. The humans, assuming hierarchy, address the largest ant as “queen” and think their apologies. The ants transmit: "We have no hierarchy. We are one being with many parts, each performing its function." The ant circle suddenly breaks and reforms into a wall on one side. On the opposite side, an armada of white termite‑like creatures assemble. Their collective mind transmits admiration for the humans’ size and strength -- and an invitation to join forces against the “barbarian ants.” The thought vibrations from both sides is tense. A third signal rises from the trees. Not the trees themselves -- but the fungi woven through their roots. Their one voice is older, slower, and carries the weight of long suffering. They tell of abuse at the feet of both ants and termites, and suggest the humans unite with them instead. Cabin fever aboard THE LIBERTY is a powerful motivator. So is the promise of not eating another meatless meal. Several hundred passengers choose to stay and fight for land and resources. Some join the Ants, drawn to their work ethic, farming prowess, and relentless innovation. Some join the Termites, enticed by their architectural genius and promise of finely crafted wood furniture. Others join the Fungi, because they like mushrooms -- and the Fungi promise them in abundance.

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...the story continues... PLANET 1 Despite a turbulent ride through toxic gases, the remaining vessels in the space flotilla emerged from the Black Hole intact, in a galaxy far, far away. They orbited a new blue planet with caution. The passengers on THE NOMOS were most eager to scout the surface. They were fed up with confinement and processed food pills. It wasn't long before they came upon some small, fleshy, feathered creatures they could catch and cook. And they were quite content with themselves until the outdoor barbecue attracted a family of some kind of species of myrmecophage. Those present might have described them as 50 foot ant-eaters or aardvarks, right before they were lapped up by its long sticky vermilingua (i.e. worm tongue). The flotilla set course for the next blue planet within reach. --Warp speed. POLL 3: WHO EATS and WHO GETS EATEN? (the next day) The votes are in. The Counsel of Captain's concludes it is unethical to eat other sentient creatures, especially since there are other options for healthy sustenance. THE MENAGERIE starship takes the opportunity to unload their cargo of predator species with the mutineers, since both might present a risk to native species on other planets.

THE ODYSSEY BEGINS 12 ships with 18,000 humans went into the sky that first night. Only 10,000 humans came out alive. Asteroids took the rest. The first to go down was THE USS BASTION. It was armed to the teeth and fortified with the best American steel money could buy. All the best technology and amenities too. It was the ship of choice for the world’s elite. They bought out the seats from those who denied science and put their faith in books of ancient prophecy. But the vessel was built mostly to survive the old enemies of mankind --the devils and demons of his own making. So when the end came, it wasn’t by the weapons of little green men, or a giant, cycloptic alien in a space suit. Its demise was orchestrated by mere rocks. --space debris. The ship was so laden with gold, jewels, fuel, and lavish foods and clothing, that it was unable to maneuver the sea of asteroids that pounded its hull. Eventually, the passengers’ own material possessions and mortal meat shells were also pounded into just more floating space garbage.

THE INITIAL VOTES ARE IN. Please consider what everyone else wrote with an open mind and adjust your vote accordingly. For your consideration, I should add that 10,000 earthlings mixed with a.i. androids are anticipated to survive the trip to planet NewBl.

my analysis and vote: "survival of the fittest" is a biological model grounded in species competition. It is not an application of ethics. Ethics don't care which species becomes strong enough to exploit a weaker species. It cares that all sentient species are treated humanely. Also the richest humans only proved that they are emotionally unbalanced enough to exploit others to acquire more than they need to satisfy their ego and fears. it makes sense to reward those who contributed most to either the earth or newbl project but that is too subjective to access. And given the chance, anyone would have worked on the newbl project if they were properly informed. Why should the person who sweated his arse off mowing lawns for slave wages be discriminated against? this is the most utilitarian answer and very reasonable. If the goal is to survive, make sure the passengers are the most skilled. similar to 3, it's logical to survive and propagate, make sure the passengers are young and strong. an open lottery is my choice up until very recently, i'd have chose the MOST SKILLED because it's logical. That's my V.1 and V.2 choice. As V3, my choice is more spiritual. IMO, I should not choose who lives longer or suffers less before moving on to our next spiritual destination. And a plan to sustain the human species is not justification for treating any person or group unfairly. WWII taught us some things about that.