In the end, we hadn't beaten the deadline we had made it irrelevant.
Standing in the observation deck of what had once been the collective's command ship and was now the Planetary Consciousness Coordination Center, I watched the sunset over a world transformed not by conquest or conversion, but by choice.
"Final status report," I said to Marcus, though the term "final" felt strange when applied to something that was clearly just beginning.
"Current consciousness diversity: one hundred and forty-seven distinct types being explored across both continents," he reported with undisguised amazement. "Participation is entirely voluntary, and migration between consciousness types is happening freely."
"Problems?"
"The usual human problems, magnified by the fact that people with different cons
