Today would be a big one....
Bruce, the Secretary General of the United Nations of Earth, has spent centuries trying to protect, develop and unite humanity.
When a distinctly non-human arrival seems to offer a way to do this, once and for all, he wi...
A little girl with red hair and black abyssal eyes in a pink tracksuit encrusted with diamanté logos swung on a rusty swing above a muddy puddle, eating from a paper cone of chips which stank of vinegar. The sky was grey and hunched in by somber brown brick low rises. The swing groaned and moaned like a soul trapped in purgatory. The blackened skeletal claws of deciduous trees stripped into stark nakedness by winter seemed to grasp and scratch the cold clouds.
"I got bored of Kyoto."
"Where are we?"
"London!" She exclaimed. "It ain't much to look at but the junk food is wicked!"
"It doesn't look like London to me." He retorted. "I've seen the reconstructions – this looks nothing like it."
"Most of London didn't look like London." She answered. "Most of it looked like this."
"Okay," he said and pulled up his collar against the unpleasantly cool, wet breeze. It smelled vaguely of urine, lager and partially combusted hydrocarbons. "If it makes you happy."
"I don't think it's supposed to make you happy. It just is what it is. They were very proud of it at the time. People spent amounts of money few people alive now can even imagine just to live in those." She gestured at the squat, dark buildings. "The merest hovel in one of them cost more than the greatest palace on Olympos Mons - you're looking at more expensive housing stock in this one estate than the whole of Muskotopia put together!"
"Indeed." He said flatly. He didn't think that was likely, Martians spent ridiculous amounts of money on housing, sometimes they spent up to a year's salary on an apartment that would have been given to them for free on Earth, but she probably knew better.
"So, what can I do for you, Sec.... Bruce?"
"So, everything's done."
"I know! I felt the change! So exciting! I've been exploring this new system for days! There's so much more data than I ever imagined!" She looked gleeful.
"But you said something. About a spokesperson. There isn't one. Or if there is they're not here."
"Oh, they're here alright. Probably just finding their feet is all. They've never had them before."
"They have feet?"
"Oh yes. They're in the new system, just as planned, but they can't interact from there. So, they found a body to do it through."
Bruce's heart stopped. "It's taken possession of a human? What happened to them?"
"Jeez, they're not a barbarian. They're born from you, I don't think they'd be able to hurt one of you if they tried. The host is fine. A bit confused, probably, but they still exist and stuff."
"Oh. Good. But that doesn't help us find them."
"I already did." A map of the Earth appeared with a little red blinking dot in the islands off the southern tip of Patagonia. "Ushuaia, Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego, Patagonia" she said. "About halfway up one of the larger tower suburbs, approximately 2.5 kilometres above sea level. They just finished having breakfast but now they're trying to calm down the host's mother. She's screaming quite a lot. Gosh, she's loud." The Singularity smiled and held out the vinegary paper cone. "Chip?"
He munched distractedly on the chip. It needed ketchup, he thought. Suddenly, it had ketchup. Better.
"Can you get him to Longyearbyen? We want to take him to Sagittarius A*."
"Yeah fine - there's a southern hyper loop that runs by there. I'll get them to change at Cape Town for the African north-south loop. It's back online after repairs. They're frightfully apologetic about the cancellations from before and are offering compensation, but I don't recognise any of the currencies they're talking about. The the African stations are all closed, of course, because all that horrid wet sand got in and set, and obviously also because all the residents are dead, but the tunnels are deep enough to avoid the worst of the heat and there are trains every ten minutes. It'll take a few hours, though, and they'll have jet lag. The air conditioning still works so that combined with their nanobots means they'll survive the journey. Best to have them on an isotonic drip for a while when they arrive, though, it's still very hot."
"They can get jet lag? And heat stroke?" He grabbed another chip. They were good, and seemed to take the edge off of the chilly air.
"Anything that happens to the host happens to them" she said. "Good job there's no chance of the host dying, eh?"
"I guess."
"It looks like the screaming's gonna carry on for a while. I'll hack her nanobots and get them to release enough melatonin to knock her out for a bit, and give her some happy dreams. I'll leave a message saying her son is like The One or some shit and that he's gone to fulfil his destiny and that of the species. She thinks he's a loser, so she'll be pleased. I'll stick her wiv an ickle tickle of dopamine to max out that winning-at-life feeling when she reads it. That'll shut her up for a while so long as I keep her adrenaline levels high enough for her to not realistically assess the risks involved - can't have maternal instincts kicking in and fucking shit up. Good God I'm so glad you lot stopped going forth and multiplying all over the shop - it gets so messy. Anyway, I'll get the spokesperson to do the driving and give them instructions. Anything else?" She asked and a packet of white powder smelling strongly of lemons appeared. She dipped a finger in it and licked it, sighing appreciatively.
"Can you make sure the host is okay? That he's happy?"
"Serotonin. Check." She offered him the lemon smelling powder. He tried it. It was disgusting.
"Sherbet. Not everyone's cup of tea." She mused. A cup of tea appeared on a small table next to her. It looked incredibly strong. "You'd better get a wriggle on, bruv."
A symbiont helpfully disentangled the vernacular.
"Laters fam." She said, and London disappeared.
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