Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 425
"If he was, there’s nothing left of that personality," said
Calandria. She hugged herself as her gaze dropped back to the
fire. "3340 absorbed millions of individuals, and then mixed
and matched their consciousness as he saw fit. Anything he
absorbed became part of the single entity that was him. He
was ancient when the Winds were just being designed. Maybe
aliens designed him--but he claimed to have made himself."
Axel harumphed skeptically. "So did Choronzon--our
employer," he added in an aside to Marya. "An ex-human who
had himself genetically rebuilt and made himself into a god.
He’s a few centuries old. It was his war with 3340 that got us
involved in all of this."
Marya shook her head in wonder. "I’ve never met a god,
unless you count the swans." She kicked at the wilting grass
near the fire for a second, then added, "The Winds are gods of
a sort. But damaged. They’re fully aware, even if they’re not
completely awake. That’s the tragedy of it."
"They’re not gods," said Calandria with odd vehemence.
"They’re just machines. Idiotic. Mechanical. You can see it
in everything they do."
"What do you think they do?" asked Marya.
"She’s thinking of the Heaven hooks," said Axel. "They
acted like a horde of dock robots gone amok. As far as we
could tell, that’s what they were too--the aerostats are just big
cargo carriers for the terraforming operation."
Marya nodded. They’d seen one that afternoon, a
vagabond moon as the locals called it, moving as slowly as a
real moon through the sky, but from north to south. It had
glowed gorgeous red in the sunset, and Marya had almost cried
to think she might never have seen that, had she’d stayed out
her term here in orbit. Being on Ventus was affecting her
profoundly, in ways she hadn’t begun to figure out. All she