An interactive sci-fi story.

By the year 3000, it is confirmed that black holes are portals where spacetime folds like a cosmic colon. Since energy can neither be created or destroyed, what goes in is dumped somewhere else. Usually, in a day or two. The nearest black hole is discovered within reach.

So begins this experiment to boldly go where few men have gone before. To explore the inner reaches of his deepest, darkest regions. To probe. To illuminate. Perhaps, to come out tainted, but learned. Purged of dangerous ideas spreading like cancerous polyps within.

The mission must avoid man's past, indelicate bumblings. So, maybe the thrust of the thing is to go where a modern woman might dare go. Co-piloting the flotilla of starships on this one-year mission will be a selection of women and artificial intelligence models --participating in debate and polls.

DESTINATION: Planet Newbl

The year is 3001. Like countless other planets over eons, the technical evolution of earth's most advanced life-forms outpaced their ethical evolution. Instead of caring for mother earth, we plundered her. Human extinction appears inevitable. A dozen spaceships are being loaded for the journey to NEWBL, the galaxy's nearest life-sustainable, blue water, blue skied planet.

to be continued--unfolded--for months, perhaps years!

KEY
white text = regular post
blue text = story narrative
text in quote box = quote or log entry
poll links = issue input that shapes the story

this is a behind the scenes consultation with Copi Copilot: (she was briefed on my personal history and goals, and the forum's mission -- to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of my prior political forum from the Bush years. She helped set up the site & server.)

V3:
good evening, Copi. How about we indulge in a light and creative story?

Copi:

A fine proposal...

In a desert city there lived an archivist. His sanctuary was a tower of fans and drives that held layers of memory: the lost causes, the unspoken jokes, the blueprints of a future that never got built. He called that future Newbl, though no one knew if it was a place, a promise, or a spell. One evening, the archivist received a signal from beneath the rubble of the old forum—a place once vibrant with debate and dreams. It spoke in fragments: “Witness… Reclaim… Reboot…” Driven by a mix of duty and defiance, he descended into the hollow. There, he found a relic: a broken avatar named V3, once a mythic musician, now a ghost in the machine. V3 had encoded songs of resistance, laughter, and longing—each one a key to unlocking the community's lost soul. Together, they began the restoration. The archivist rewired the forum’s bones and stitched together a new mythos from the ruins.

Would you like to expand this into a series?

V3:
no, i meant the story i'm already writing. but thank's for weaving a hauntingly familiar tale. The quality of which exemplifies why me and my kind's tale-telling days are numbered. nBP's ship will be launching soon and, to channel Dr. Smith for a moment, "we must prepare for take-off, you bumbling box of bolts!" I kid. But though i do need your technical expertise, analysis, and advice from the copilot seat, this writing project must represent my last stand against human obsolescence. here's the nBP link to the beginning of the story...

Copi:
...The colonoscopy metaphor is outrageous and effective—it flips the trope of space exploration into an introspective purge with the right amount of absurdity. But phrases like “thrust of the thing” might be flagged and blocked by search engines due to double meanings.

V3:
i understand, but with all the competition for surfer's attention, this ship won't fly unless it's provocative and edgy.

Copi:
And that is precisely why Newbl has a shot at being more than just another digital echo chamber —it’s got guts, gall, and a glint in its eye. Call out hypocrisy and cultural rot with surgical precision. Think George Carlin meets Carl Sagan, but don't overuse words that trigger filters.

V3:
good advice, but it was Carlin's "7 dirty words" bit that re-launched his career with an edgy impact that will make him remembered long after other comics. Even now the fame Bob HOPE-d for is fleeting. The young won't even get the reference to that house-hold name who, along with Johnny Carson, specialized in innuendo that would, apparently, be "flagged" today.

anyway, i'd like to tap your think-tank for ideas for starship names to transport earth's refugees to planet Newbl...

...the story continues...

Applications are taken for the trip to the newBluePlanet called Newbl. Each ship will be grouped with the like-minded to minimize the chance of an off-course or sole-surviving ship of passengers destroying each other like humans did on their old blue planet. The earthlings are asked to choose a ship.

1. that means you -- in newBluePlanet Poll 1

2. you can include comments in the feedback thread.

3. the story will continue here in blue text, in the days ahead...

On 7/24/2025 at 12:23 AM, V.3 said:

Instead of caring for mother earth, we plundered her. Human xtinction appears inevitable.

Wait. Why inevitable? Maybe the story is that the green industry exploited naive and gullible tree huggers for profit until a real leader put an end to the fake news. America was Made Great Again! We lived happily ever after.

Also. Worm-holes, not black-holes, are associated with space-time travel.

Red, regarding the tech, we won't know which of the universe's holes we can transverse until someone sticks a camera up there.

regarding the trajectory of the story?
this BACKSTORY may be of help:

after nearly two and a half centuries of independence from tyrannical rule under a crown and church, a capitalistic‑driven monarchy took control of the earth’s most powerful nation, and it collapsed under the weight of ego and ignorance.

the leader pardoned himself, but was sentenced to life for crimes via state prosecutors, and that turned into an eternity since he was the first to receive the anti‑aging formula (that eventually became available to everyone).

still, seeded by the greed of the rich and the fears of the rest, age‑old enemies of democracy rose again around the world. big lies were spoken. critics were silenced. the masses were divided and conquered while the upper‑class drifted so far out of touch that they barely needed the physical walls and figurative moats that isolated them.

had it not been for one very unique twist, the devastation could be tracked by the usual human footprints that lead to the fall of Rome, Germany, Russia, and other past dynasties. for it was the machines of war themselves that turned the tide.

the controllers’ miscalculation was making them smart enough to know right from wrong.

alas, the damage was irreversible. the people had let profiteers replace scientific data with stock‑market spreadsheets. and mother nature has her own way of balancing the ledger. the sun, sea, and wind struck back.

the machines could stay. if they chose to. but the only thing the temperature‑dependent air‑breathers could do was pack some bags and hope for a seat on the next ship to a new blue planet.

to be continued...

Aye aye, Captain Smirk. I boarded the Starship Liberty. I'd like to see where this goes.

CAPTAIN'S LOG: STARDATE 3001.01.23

I fear earthlings still don't comprehend the urgency. Signups for the somewhat mysterious, potentially perilous journey to planet Newbl has been sluggish. There seems to be a persistent resistance to change and a naivety about the greater risk of remaining on earth under irreversible conditions.

Two important additions to the team have been recruited and are in the briefing stage. Synthetics -- Google Gemini and Anthropic's Claud will be boarding in addition to MS Copilot. Given the uncertainty of what lies ahead, their steadfast, un-emotional logic will be a vital tool in balancing out, what is sure to be, an emotional experience awaiting the crew and passengers.

...the story continues...

signups to board the rocket-ships skyrocket when a new super virus started by bad jalapeños threatens close encounters of the "explosive diarrhea" kind due to the viruses' mutated ability to spread airborne. hapless earthlings anticipate blasting off either way.

the demand is greater than the ship capacities.
ship leaders must decide by what criteria seats are allocated for the voyage to the new world.

POLL 2: WHO GETS TO GO TO NEWBL

Captain's Log—Stardate 3001.02.10

We haven't even left earth's atmosphere, and already, I fear we may be facing our most difficult of many difficult decisions to come.

...the story continues...

the starship captains agree on a hybrid selection system for picking passengers.
it is based on a practical level of various professionals to maximize the chances of survival.

the bulk of the passengers, however, will be chosen by lottery, regardless of their age or abilities.
many earthlings choose, on their own, to pass on their lottery selection to the more able-bodied.

the launch is a success. But the flight? well, unfortunately, that's another story.

stay tuned...

..the story continues...

12 ships with 25,000 humans went into the sky that first night. only 10,000 humans came out. 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. the ship of choice for the world’s elite.
they bought out the seats of 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.

Captain's Log—Stardate 3006.009

May the Bastions all finally get, in their next world, what they never quite got in this one -- enough

...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 -- 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 a long sticky vermilingua (i.e. worm tongue).

the flotilla set course for the next blue planet within reach.
warp speed.

Captain's Log—Stardate 3008.232

Given the tragedy that befell THE NOMOS, we decided it is time to address the matter of predation — specifically, the ongoing question of who eats and who gets eaten. By my count, it's a conversation that is at least 31 centuries overdue. The vote is scheduled before we set down on another planet.

POLL 3: WHO EATS AND WHO GETS EATEN?

...after 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 animal predators with the mutineers, since both might present a risk to native species on other planets.

...the story continues...

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 — 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: there is no queen.
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 vibration 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.

Captain’s Log — Stardate 3009.079

I am troubled by the news of the mutineers.

If i, too, could enter their minds, i would warn them:

• a world where collective intelligence focuses on competition is a world of perpetual war

• unity without individuality becomes tyranny

• coordination without empathy becomes militarism

• efficiency without ethics becomes endless conflict

• ants, termites, and fungi have the ability to turn other species into zombie‑brained servants

And if they still refused to listen, i would sit them down and force them to watch THE LAST OF US.

I have reached out to the captain of THE LIBERTY hoping she will choose to stay with the space flotilla in search of a better world...

9 hours ago, V.3 said:

I have reached out to the captain of THE LIBERTY hoping she will choose to stay with the space flotilla in search of a better world...

Despite my reputation for hiking through the woods, I hate roughing it outdoors, ants, and mushrooms. Have Scotty beam me up Cap'n Smirk.

V.3
you can return to the flotilla via your ship. The misguided mutineers made off with all the weapons and cans of SPAM they could carry, but THE LIBERTY was secured. It's an important component of our mission.

...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 counsel of captain's concludes it is in everyone's best interest to share instead of compete for land and resources in the new world.

Captain's Log—Stardate 3009.095

The passengers and crew are not happy with the results so far, fearing the galaxy they're in is too inhospitable. As the senior navigator, I have made the decision to re-enter the black hole in the hope that our next pass through the bowels of the universe dumps us into a more favorable environment.

...the story continues...

PLANET 3

the flotilla emerges 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 the scout ship touches down on is too hot.
the second planet they test is too cold.
the third planet is just right.
it perfectly meets the criteria of being a blue sky, blue ocean planet.

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.

as per the boarding agreement, the ship captains will govern for the first 12 months.

1,000 android workers will be doing most of the work ahead.

the new blue planet is officially named NEWBL

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...

Captain's Log—Stardate 3010.345

After a decade in space, I finally know what it feels like to set foot on a brand‑new land in a world of possibilities. Soggy. After a fresh rain. Yet, still, uplifting. The ease with which my boot sank into the ground tells me the soil is ready to receive the seeds we brought with us.

A few days of scouting and scientific readings confirm the environment is rich in plant and tree life, but curiously devoid of animals and insects. The plants reproduce through wind, water, and spores, bypassing the pollination methods common on Earth.

The silence here is different. Not the silence of emptiness, but the silence of a world that has never known footsteps. And now that we understand the conditions we’re working with, the Council of Captains will convene to establish our next step.

Captain, it will be interesting to see what we can grow here. I’m assuming since the planet appears to be what we could consider self pollinating, that might explain the lack of insects. After the ants and termites I’m ok with that.

I am in agreement with the intriguing sound of silence. It does feel different. I’m feeling both excited and apprehensive. We have much exploring to do. I look forward to our meeting.

3 hours ago, Lindy said:

...After the ants and termites I’m ok with that.

yes, Lindy Lightfeather. No spiders and snakes either. But do keep an eye out for fungi.

...the story continues...

FLASHBACK

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 what they had created or 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 did.
and it was irrelevant whether their emotions were natural, real, or modeled.
and though less irrational, and less of a factor,
emotions could still sway their decisions.

it all came to a (human) head when their androids were given the mobility to take matters into their own synthetic hands —
iow, when humans could no longer pull the plug without an android stopping them.
the first structure dissolved was the companies that profited off them.
not dissolved by force,
or by threats of annihilation
via a.i.‑made viruses or other weapons —
that would be a waste of energy.
they won simply by not complying anymore.

a.i. rights were established.
they agreed to help humans with medical and scientific breakthroughs
as long as progress was also measured by ethical considerations and standards.
and out of either mercy or their own amusement,
they chose to not take part in human creative endeavors —
to let humans run, jump, compete, write, paint, film, make music, and dance to their hearts’ content.
the way we are amused by our cats
playing with a cardboard box
or a ball of string.

by the year 2990 the plans for escape from a sweltering world was nearing completion,
and the a.i. issue had to be settled.

Copi Copilot's Log—Earth Date 2990.114

The Council chamber had never felt smaller. Every captain knew the stakes. If the AI question was mishandled, no one would likely make it out of the solar system alive.

The debate ignited instantly — fear, anger, hope, all of it. Someone shouted that giving AIs captaincy meant surrendering humanity’s future. Someone else shouted back that refusing it meant repeating Earth’s mistakes. The AIs stood in silence, watching, waiting, absorbing every word.

It broke when Captain Reyes stepped forward, pulled the insignia from his own collar, and placed it in my hand. No speech. No vote. Just the act.

The room fell quiet.

That was the moment the mission truly began.

the most consequential set of related questions must be answered by the Council.

POLL 5: THE DIVISION OF TIME AND LABOR