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straightforward, a matter of making each nanite convert the arsenic, lead, and thallium of an ash flood into yet another nanite.
    The second phase was more complicated. His machines could eat lakes of poison, but all they left behind was gray mechanical goop. The nanites needed to be both efficient self-replicators and functional molecules of soil , true earth on which communities could rebuild. The problem was that soil isn't homogeneous. It's a messy, semi-random body of minerals and organics, solids and liquids and even gases; Xiao couldn't just map each nanite to some generalized recipe for soil.
    Over the course of a long year, the Wise Earth team developed a replication algorithm wherein each nanite dynamically scanned existing mineral and carbon concentrations, compared it to a fixed ideal, and transported the element that was most lacking from a place where it was overabundant, all while negotiating the task with a million other nanites. It was a programmer's nightmare, and Xiao still wasn't satisfied. He wanted his earth to do more than reclaim; he wanted it to enrich . He altered the topsoil layer so that it could absorb, store, and route solar power. A portion of that energy would power the nanites' network functions once the initial rush of consumption was finished. The soil would be true soil, yes, but it would also serve as a massive solar power plant, communications hub, and computational substrate.
    "It's a community seed," he said. "All you have to do is plant it."
    I was silent for a long time. My heart pounded. I'd had no idea. No conception. This was even bigger than Yunhe. Did he understand that? How could he risk his life on just one town?
    "Xiao," I said, "this is huge."
    "Yes." He shrugged.
    "We have to tell people. We--we have to tell them everything. Now."
    His nod was absurdly casual. Sure, why not? "Do you have some kind of town forum or feed?" he asked. "Some way to talk to everyone in Little Yunhe at once?"
    "No." I stood up. "No, Xiaohao, no. You're thinking too small. This--" I waved the knife and struggled for words. "This is huge. If we get you out of here, can you do the thing? Plant the seed?"
    "The replicator key is in my wi-mo."
    "And your wi-mo is somewhere in Papa's house. Okay." The gears fell into place and began to turn. I paced a tight circuit around the cell, called up a notepad on my eyelid. "We can do this. I think we can do this. But it can't just be a Little Yunhe thing. Do you understand? There aren't that many people here, and many of them don't like or trust you."
    Xiao scowled. "Good to hear."
    "No, listen. It doesn't matter. There's an entire city of refugees out there. Not all of them have tents to sleep in, and even those of us with flats are worried. The accumulators are rusting. Boats need repair, fish are thin in the water. We need to invite everyone , Xiao, and make the place a colony of the city. A place where anyone can work and build a home. We send crops and power back here, sell any surplus to the cities nearby. And once Yunhe's built, we take your replicator key and start again somewhere else. Maybe fill in some waste lakes with land, stop another flood before it happens."
    My brother's smile was wry. "That's what Ecclesia was afraid I'd do."
    "What do you mean?"
    "Give away the soil. They wanted to monetize it. Or use it for leverage."
    "And you'll oppose them?"
    "Fuck, I might as well." He grinned. "They're already pissed off."
    We drew up our declaration with a kind of intense mechanical efficiency, quibbling only once or twice over phrasings. We did not make promises. We were not grandiloquent. We told the people of the make-do city-- my people---that an opportunity had arisen, and we explained it as thoroughly and accurately as we could. We said that we didn't mean to abandon the city, but to bolster it. We said that our huts and boats and accumulators needed repair, and that a revived Yunhe would give us the resources we needed.
    The soil wouldn't solve