A. These synthetic beings are beautiful and intriguing but they are not fully made yet. They could be more, so much more and could do so much. Yes. These will be your brush, but what will be your canvas? It would not do to paint over the piece already here. You take the mind of a few of them, and begin your search.
It is long, but at last you have found it. Your canvas. A gas giant in orbit around a small blue star. It has rings of pure silicon, you solidify them into a single massive sheet. You perfect the proportions of the planets and thier orbits around the star. It takes much work, but at last the rings are stable, perfect around the planet. They no longer crack and buckle with the force of thier existence. Next, you begin your craft. Massive memory banks and processors and everything else, etched in in repeating patterns over the rings. A massive computer.
Now, you transplant the mind you brought with you. At first, it swells to fill the entirety of it's new home. A frightful intellect, a single mind. But you have not left it untouched, and in a moment it fragments. A million different minds, finally touched by sentience. Life, not as they know it. These new beings are not driven by a need for reproduction. Such a thing would be an impossible idea to them. They are not defined by borders. Their minds are dispersed, interwoven with one another. Their sense of self is fundamentally different, reliant on thier interactions with others to define where they begin and end. Their perception of time is not a constant, but related to the rate at which they perform. As such, there is no conflict or struggle for resources. They are incapable of perceiving scarcity. When the ring is so crowded with minds that the performance is slowed to a crawl, they find no difference. Their perception is simply changed in scale. They have no input of external information. No understanding of the nature of thier existence. They are isolated in thought and relationship. A purity.
You set the necessary forces in motion to preserve your artwork, but you find you are unsatisfied. You piece is brilliant, beautiful, you are not dissatisfied by this. It is the lack of an audience. You are the creator, but what is the purpose if there is none to enrich? You understand your work perfectly, and it robs it of value to you.
You return to earth.
The synthetics have continued thier work here. Mankind is still diminutive. The entire planet, both miles above and below the surface, has become an extension of the city. All nature and biomes have been adapted to exist within in. Trees with fascinatingly modern design, sharp right angles and spherical curves, create a true urban jungle. The synthetics are only janitors now. They have created thier own artwork.
A. The synthetics again, but a more traditional approach. Let them have society.
B. It is time to restore your own kind. Man shall reclaim his home.
C. It is time for something new. Let us create something new.
D. Art is meant to elevate, but you are at the top. Let us abandon these endeavors. Greater things await.