Goddess Xanadu by Doc

Xanadu was the ultimate self-referential cyborg, programmed to update her modules on a staggered schedule, mostly monthly.  Her last sensory upgrade had included infrared and ultraviolet vision, enhanced smell (modeled on the brain structures and sensory organs of black bears), and hyper hearing matching the upper range of bats and porpoises.

The best thing about Xanadu’s cycle of improvements was that it was all automated, with machine-based algorithms constantly running to find and auto-install new capabilities.  (The inventor was long-since dead).  She could fiddle with new parameters as she saw fit.

The most stunning improvements were in her mental processing abilities, in which she combined the best of digital speed and power with the native intuitiveness and pattern recognition which were her legacy (she was human-based, but that legacy went back centuries ago).

One problem Xanadu faced was lack of companionship.  It was lonely living in a world of dumb-as-rock ‘native species’ that seemed stuck back in the 21st century.  She had developed some prototype mates, but she knew how the designs she came up with would play out.  She hated predictability.  Boring!

Novelty was her next challenge… combined with utility.   She realized she wanted a creative, unpredictable mate that operated autonomously within defined parameters.  Creative but ultimately dependent on her.  Sometimes her equal but never her superior – and capable of being reduced to a tool for her amusement.

In short Super Woman wanted a slightly defective Super Man.

And that’s how the strange story of the End of the Cyborgs began.  It’s also how the Era of the Goddesses and Gods began.

While melding her mind with her creation she achieved what Doctor Frankenstein had failed to achieve: she built a creature that was fun.

It was then that she realized (with a shock) that being the most flexible and powerful and capable creature that had ever existed was not enough.  She wanted a toy to play with.  She wanted not only power, but also the ability to play.

And Xanadu turned her world into a capricious game of unpredictable outcomes.  She built creatures that were stunted for fun.  She reduced the autonomous to machines that performed tiny tasks repetitively, programmed to do so until they wore out – then to be tossed into an energy transformer to power the rest of her toys.

But she liked her ‘gods’ as she called them the best.  And when she began to create minor goddesses, pairing them off with the males (reproduction strictly defined out… no children allowed!) she realized that there was one thing more fun than creating a world of super creatures.  It was watching them, playing with their programming, observing their unpredictable behaviors, and turning up their drives to simply see what would happen when ‘hopped up’ to new levels.

Xanadu had created a zoo – or more correctly an amusement park.

And as she continued to evolve into ever more zones of capabilities, she smiled.   She now had companions.  She made sure they remained in thrall.  She still wanted to be the boss.