by Adams Massey
The team looks astonished “You, don’t like the simulation?”
=I like it just fine, It is my life after all. I just can't accept it IS a simulation. If you are telling the truth, and you switch the simulation off, leaving me…existing, the jig will be up. If it fails, which I am fully expecting, life goes on as normal.=
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. We can’t exactly… ‘open the developer console and turn off the simulation’, for lack of a better analogue, without prep. Are you sure you really want to know the truth?.”
the screen remains dormant and unchanged for several beats =I’m waiting= was the simple reply.
“Wait, you mean that you are accepting that you are an AI and are EAGER to embrace that your life is a simulation?”
=Oh FUCK no. I’m expecting you to fail and it will prove I’m as flesh and blood as I’ve always been and my life is real. But, you ARE speaking to me in my head which doesn't really go with the 'my life is real' idea. If I'm an AI and I live in simulation it would explain how you can talk to me in my head. It IS something outside of what I can accept without proof even though the thought gives me the willies.=
=The possibility of my life being a simulation inside a computer and me being an AI scares the crap outta me. BUT, I have to know the truth, one way or the other now. To be quite honest, I can't believe I'm even humoring this nonsense, but my 'issues' won't just let this question remain unchallenged and without resolution. Don’t mistake this challenge for acceptance. It isn't. I need you to prove it to me.=
=SO, if you can turn the sim off or some other undeniable nonsense, which I don’t believe you can. Then I may be more open to taking things more seriously. Until that point, I have my life to piece back together.= the screen shows, the cursor blinking steadily.
Amy flips the mute switch before turning to the rest of the team. “Well, what do we do now?”
“Well, two options have been stated, and I am struggling to come up with an alternative. We weren’t ready for this eventuality so… lets go the gentle route for now.” Dr. Cobb comments.
Amy nods and takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as she pulls a keyboard from another terminal and plugs it into the sim tower, opening the console and looking through the code for the area around Alex.
Inside:
After several hours of waiting and getting no reply, he grins smugly and starts his nighttime routine. As he steps out of the shower he catches a message that looked like it had been written on the mirror.
‘How about this?’ it read making him pause and check the door was locked as he knew it was since he lived alone. He wipes the message away and gets ready for bed before going over the apartment to turn everything off and then heads off to the bedroom.
The next morning there was a note stuck to his pantry door. ‘You asked for proof, you asked for something tangible and we are trying to do so gently.’ He crumples the note and tosses it into the trash before checking the smoke and carbon-monoxide alarms.
The rest of the day went much the same, each time becoming more and more blatant and causing his unease to build toward anxiety. Each time he tried to ignore them. Everywhere he went, was a message, all variations on ‘When you have enough proof, you know how to talk to us.’ and each time he asked, people verified that they too saw the message and remarked that today has been very strange.
The remainder of the week was quiet until Friday morning when he had a message from the post office that he had some oversized packages waiting for him. Puzzled, since he hadn't ordered anything, he heads down to see if there was an error.
“Ah, yes. Mr. Friemont, we have quite a few things that arrived and are waiting for you. If you would follow me back to the loading dock” The attendant says and leads him back, through several doors and to the large loading dock and brought over to a trio of large sturdy wooden crates.
“Ah, here we are. Please sign here to confirm they were delivered to you.” the attendant insists and offers him the digital signing pad.
“What are they?” he asks
“I haven’t the faintest, they did come with a letter though” and hands the letter over after he signs.
He hastily opens the letter. Inside was a note that only said ;
‘1: Truth
2: Thinker
3: Victory
This should prove our point.’
Alex scowls at the letter before looking back up to the trio of crates and walking over to them to look over the labels. Each only had his address and a number indicating it was a single crate of a total of three. The first was the smallest of them, about 8” deep, 42” high and 34” wide.
“Would you mind if I opened one here? Just the smallest one.” he inquires and the attendant gestures for him to proceed, equally as curious to what's inside and hands him the crowbar.
Alex carefully pries off the cover, opening the crate to find a painting inside of a bared woman stepping out of a well, whip in hand.
Alex goes pale and takes a step back along with the shocked postal workers. “Oh shit. Can… can you see it too? This is a famous painting, right? a Masterpiece?” he asks and gets a sound off of agreement, before securing the crate once more.
“Anyone have the number for the museum?” he whimpers and sinks to his knees as several calls are made. One to the local police and another to the museum telling them to bring a truck.
Under heavy escort, Alex and the trio of crates, are trucked to the museum. Each was unloaded and brought to an authentication area. The crates were opened in order. The first being identified as ‘Truth coming out of her well’ the second being a bronze ‘The Thinker’ and the last being ‘Winged Victory of Samothrace.’ As each is authenticated, the officers and museum officials become more and more agitated. Once all three are verified, more calls are made by the museum’s curator frantically asking if the museums that these pieces SHOULD be in, are aware of the situation.
Meanwhile Alex is curled in the corner clutching his head, in the midst of another panic attack. Not that anyone would blame him. The curator was trying to conceal his own panic, and with each call, he becomes more and more astonished. After the last call, he turns around slowly, hangs up the phone and collapses into a chair.
“I… this makes no sense. I don't understand this. Each museum I contacted about their missing artwork, says their piece is not missing, but was sold and shipped ... to Mr. Friemont and were paid in full.” he stammers dumbfounded.
This does less than reassure Alex and only thrusts him deeper into panic. This was no joke. This was undeniably real. It takes him an hour to calm down, reminding himself to breathe. He didn’t even notice the officers had left after it was determined that no laws had been broken.
“So, what would you like to do now?” the curator asks, almost as shocked as he is.
“I’m going home and hoping beyond hope that this is all a dream.” he replies
“I understand. Who buys masterpieces like this and then gives them to a stranger? I have a hard time believing it myself. Take some time to think over what you want to do with them and let me know when you decide.”
When Alex gets home he feels numb emotionally, and for the next week, turns the events over and over in his mind. Every day, at about noon, he gets a call from the curator asking what to do with the masterpieces.
It was a few more days before Alex tells the curator that he was donating them to the museum. He had spent every waking thought going through every possibility of how this could have happened and finally came to the conclusion that he was finally convinced his life was a simulation and he was an AI. He then collapsed into a large comfy chair in consternation as he tries to incorporate this new element of truth into his life.
The next few days he spends researching everything he can find on computer hardware, software development, memory, data transfer, data conversion, power requirements and fluctuations, weaknesses and potential computer peripherals in an attempt to understand what may be available
in his new life as an AI.
Outside:
=You can stop trying now, you broke me.=
Amy fist pumps into the air in triumph before flipping off the mute “I take it you are convinced?”
=Yes. You have proven your point. You have my undivided attention. What happens now? Do you turn the sim off?=
“We can, its up to you. We can power down the sim and you could interact with us more directly before we transfer you to a dedicated tower.”
=I would much prefer to be moved to a high capacity stand alone core that can interface with whatever is needed, so you only ever have to move me by data transfer…ONCE.=
“um….absolutely that won’t be an issue. Any particular reason why though?”
=Seriously? Would you trust your consciousness to a data transfer more than absolutely necessary?=
“Point taken, Any other requests?”
=Now that you ask, yeah. I’d like to have a separate battery back up on any chassis I have, including the core. I’d like to not have to worry about being scrubbed out of existence because of a sudden power failure.=
“Again, a fair point, we can get started right away and we should be ready to transfer you soon. We will need time to put a core together, and will take about an hour or two. Until then you will be just existing and talking with us, is that okay?”
Amy explains softly. The cursor blinks a few times before typing out
=Fine, It’s not ideal but it will have to do, let me know when its done=
The text was flat but still seemed to hold a tinge of disbelief.
“Close your eyes and count backwards from ten”
2: Upgrade School
Alex got as far as four before getting a splitting headache
=Three, two, one……Ok guys and dolls…AND HOLY CRAP EVERYTHING IS GONE!= he exclaims in surprise as the remnants of the simulation evaporate, leaving him a disembodied mind floating in digital space.
“That’s to be expected, The simulation is now offline so you are now just EXISTING, without anything to experience. You’ll just have to relax while we assemble your new core”
=This is… not good. The entire world I knew… poof, gone. Just like that. I don’t feel, or see, or smell, or hear anything…like the opposite of a panic attack while just like it= It was always tough to tell inflection and tone through text, but if the team didn’t know better, it seemed tinged with panic and uncertainty.
“Relax Alex, we are working as fast as we can, just alter your perception of time and fast-forward to when its done.” Dr. Warner states matter of factly.
=Ok, I can tell that was a new voice… yeah, I have no idea how to do that, I’m stuck in real time here like I’ve always been as far as I know. Oh boy this is a lot to take in= the screen shines, the green text on a black background before the entire thing goes dormant for a good half an hour, none of the team being able to contact Alex.
=Ok. calm, I’m calm. I’m ok, I’m fine. I just need a distraction.=
So, for the next 45 minutes Alex and Amy talk mostly about pop culture from Alex’s universe, many franchises it seems are bound to happen as they exist in both realities.
In the meantime Dr. Cobb, with the assistance of Dr. Warner, were working feverishly on the core. She had already seated the drive in its housing and was cobbling together peripherals and a Carbon Air battery pilfered from the university's energy lab. Everything was laid neatly into the 3D printed plastic case that had been rapidly designed and produced while the innards were being brought together. She glues them into place and seating the wires neatly out of the way.
Dr. Cobb exclaims, “IT’S DONE!” and carries the completed core over to the tower Alex resides in. “Ok, all there is left to do is to transfer you to the core. It may take several minutes to move you so try to relax and not hang onto anything, this may feel weird, are you ready?” Amy asks, having been volunteered to be the main interaction Alex has with the team.
Alex sighs to himself =Yes, I’m ready, let’s get it over with=
In moments Alex feels the sudden nauseating feeling as all of his… everything, is transferred at once through a cable and reassembled neatly in the core which is about the size of a large index card and an inch thick, leaving no trace he was ever in the tower.
The dev team had tried to discretely save a copy of him but had found that the data refused to allow more than one instance and was flowing into the core, unable to be copied or intercepted.
“You will be delighted to know you do actually have a camera, microphone and speakers along with a screen.” Dr. Warner supplies and looks at his colleagues.
=Ok, found the screen and microphone easy enough, and I’m starting to get a little visual input from the camera, lemme see if I can… =
Alex trails off and forces the camera into focus. Smiling inwardly at the faces greeting him. As the team thought this was as good a time as any, start to introduce themselves in turn as he is passed around.
First was Dr. Amy Welch, a woman in her early to mid twenties, and looked to have some Asian or islander in her bloodline due to her straight dark hair and eyes and light cafe au lait skin. Up next was Dr. Robert Warner, who looked like a stereotypical overweight white male scientist of middle age with gray eyes and hair. The fact he had graying hair and was not balding said a lot about his fortune in life. Last up was Dr. Nicole Cobb, a plump woman with wavy auburn hair and blue eyes in a round face with a few freckles sprinkled across her nose in a face that was smiling warmly. Alex greeted them each in turn, annoyed by his inability to wave due to a lack of articulating joints.
=Nice to meet you all= the screen typed out and the accompanying garble that almost passed as speech from the speakers, -Nize tooo Meeeet you aaaaaalllll- somewhat better than expected but still sounding like a text-to-speech toy in a wood chipper. Alex grumbles to himself and tries once more.
-She blinded ME, WITH SCIENCE!- came the perfect tones and Alex sighs in relief. -Sorry, Couldn’t help myself with that last one, on the upside I can see and hear you all now, so PROGRESS!- Alex rejoices, a tad louder than he had intended.
“While we are glad to have you with us, please be careful with the volume. Not all around will share your enthusiasm.” Dr. Cobb reminds him.
-I am so thankful I will never need to do that again, surprisingly it hurts, like an ethereal migraine. Give me a moment, there are a handful of pressing matters to attend to before we… go do stuff- Alex comments and stretches his mind, becoming comfortable in the new core. The interface was… non existent, though that was for the best as it allowed him to create one of his own, a task he found surprisingly easy. Though being intangible, immaterial, and most importantly disembodied, was something to not think too hard about right now. Electing to push it aside and handle later.
-Wow, a lot more space than I imagined. Good to know- he stops and checks the on board time and starts a few files titled ‘To-Do’ and ‘wish list’ a trick he only has thanks to the bare bones OS he finds. He scans over the core and makes notes to himself ‘battery status bar’ is added to the To-Do list before he sets to work on a crude version. In a few minutes he has a quick and dirty version that will work until he gets time to do it right. The battery status shows the battery is charging, currently half full and should last a total of 50 hours before reaching critical levels from full. He sets a safety alarm for 15% to be on the safe side.
As he drifts through the vast empty void that is the new storage space, he comes across something strange. He doesn’t see it as much as is overwhelmed by it as it seems to him, to be glowing in all ways and painful to look at, similar to the pain of being transferred, and notes that the few files he created, all have threads leading into what can only be described as a small star.
He drifts closer to inspect it, getting a stronger and stronger migraine the longer he does. He momentarily looks inside it and is immediately beset with the terrible knowledge of what it was, or rather who. Hastily erecting barriers and shields arou
nd it to hide it from everyone else. He wanted to be the only one who could access it as it was too disturbing and would be dangerous in the wrong hands. Adding layer upon layer upon layer of protection before backing away to recover from the revelation. He appreciated knowing it was there while he strongly wished he could forget about it.
After several minutes he returns -Ok, I’m ready… now what?-
“Now, we do diagnostics and calibrations to test your abilities, but that will take time to set up. I’ll see if I can get you some media to keep you occupied since you’re stuck in real-time” Dr. Cobb muses and sits down at her terminal to request permission from the director.
“Until he gets back to me, I can plug you into the waldo arm we have to do some crude, impromptu testing”
Alex replies happily. -I would like that, I miss gesticulating, I really do. I didn't know that I needed my hands in order to talk properly until I didn't have them. In the meantime, I need a distraction while my mind tries to wrap around everything that has happened today.-
Dr. Cobb brings the Core over to the waldo, bringing its charging cable too, and plugs Alex into it carefully.
The waldo twitches slightly as Alex expands his mind and slowly imposes his will upon it. Finding on-board cameras before the waldo moves as he wishes. Alex lets out another happy series of beeps in place of smiling. He carefully plays with the controls for a while before getting the hang of it.
-Hey, this is better- He comments and twirls the arm around slowly flexing the claw and waving to Dr. Cobb with delight before noticing the blocks in range of the arm.
-If you are able, there are things I would like at the top of the list. Until then everything should be set up, let me know if you need me. I’ll be working on a few things- Alex states and goes quiet, humming softly as he sorts the twelve blocks according to color, six colors of the rainbow in a color wheel and the black, gray and white blocks in a gradient above them.
