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Demon Cam in the Space Silmarillion
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The grownups are all very busy, but the children are all bored. 

 

Bored or having nightmares. But Tasárinon was not on a ship and did not see the people dying and has only heard it thirdhand and can't exactly have nightmares about the look in his mother's eyes - well, he probably could, but he hasn't - so he's bored, and he is drawing on the floor. It is an absurdly intricate drawing. He has been embellishing it for three days. 

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"I can try this but I cannot guarantee that result, not knowing how your cyborg implants work. My 'no minds' hard limit has not been tested on software storage but may apply to it too. Also, Mandos will still have his copy."

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"Mandos doesn't torture them or anything, it's wanting my father alive more than not wanting him dead...also I think Mandos would find the situation objectionable and wouldn't run his copy, at least."

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"Like I said I'm willing to try it. What kind of substrate are the backups on, do you want me to just conjure both things in this room...?"

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"Can you conjure our chip first, with his mind on it? They look like - let me look up some books for you, actually -"

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"You have a way to check to see if it's a mind and not mysteriously-a-nonmind?"

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"Not until you put it in, no - not if the difference doesn't show up in the code anywhere -"

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"So what's the advantage of conjuring it that way first?"

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"Oh, I suppose if you can just do it in the body that'd be even better..."

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"Should be able to. Lemme have some more details about how these things work so I don't have to do it twice because there's something I didn't know and copy conjuration couldn't patch."

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He pulls up a visual. "It's here. We call them thought-catchers. If it's not destroyed one can actually just reconstruct the body around it but if it's destroyed you need Mandos - and you need a Vala anyway, we can't create even unthinking bodies."

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"Okay. So, your father's thought-catcher as last extant undestroyed and his body around it at - when, does it matter?"

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"Not the moment of death, hopefully. Any time in the three hundred Years before that should look the same."

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"Cool, can do. Clothes?"

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"That could be what he was wearing when he died, when last not damaged."

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"Okay. Right here right now?"

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"Yes." His face is set. 

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And now there is a basement dweller Elf cyborg on the floor. It is not smart enough to blink, and doesn't.

"...Sorry," Cam sighs.

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He stands there a bit fixedly. One of the men stands up and hugs him. "I had a thought on file format compatibility," he says firmly, and then expands on it, and after a minute Feanor volunteers an objection. Maitimo picks up the unmoving Elf cyborg. "Thanks for trying," he mutters to Cam. 

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"You're welcome." Dammit he couldn't just luck into a world where everyone was CONVENIENTLY RESURRECTABLE no that would have been too nice.

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"Bit crowded in here, want to go across the hall to my office and read or search from there with my credentials? There are a lot of people I need to inform of this."

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"Okay."

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He hands the body to some very confused-looking people first. They leave without asking any questions, or at least any audible ones. 


"Sorry," Maitimo says, when they're in the room across the hall, glaring his screen to life.

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"I knew it probably wasn't going to work. There's no principled reason for 'no minds' and therefore no reason to expect it wouldn't apply to software minds."

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"It doesn't make any sense at all. As a limitation."

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"I know! I mean, I'm mostly glad we have it - Hell works as a society because everyone in it is indestructible, if we could just make squishy humans some people would and things would get potentially very fucked up very fast - but sense, no, none of that."

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