“This is madness,” said Watunan.
Bagayoko twirled a crusted lock of mud-smeared hair in his supple fingers. “Your gate-guard is a husky lad, friend Manimenesh. What say we have him bash this storm-crow’s head in, and haul him out to be hyena food?”
“For that, Doctor,” said the Sufferer, “I will tell you the manner of your death. You will be killed by the Ghanaian royal guard, while attempting to kill the crown prince by blowing a subtle poison into his anus with a hollow reed.”
Bagayoko started. “You idiot, there is no crown prince.”
“He was conceived yesterday.”
Bagayoko turned impatiently to the host. “Let us rid ourselves of this prodigy!”
Manimenesh nodded sternly. “Sufferer, you have insulted my guests and my city. You are lucky to leave my home alive.”
The Sufferer hauled himself with agonizing slowness to his single foot. “Your boy spoke to me of your generosity.”
“What! Not one copper for your driveling.”
“Give me one of the gold dirhams from your purse. Otherwise I shall be forced to continue prophesying, and in a more intimate vein.”
Manimenesh considered this. “Perhaps it’s best.” He threw Sidi a coin. “Give this to the madman and escort him back to his raving-booth.”
They waited in tormented patience as the fortune-teller creaked and crutched, with painful slowness, into the darkness.
Manimenesh, brusquely, threw out his red velvet sleeves and clapped for wine. “Give us a song, Khayali.”
The poet pulled the cowl of his cloak over his head. “My head rings with an awful silence,” he said. “I see all waymarks effaced, the joyous pleasances converted into barren wilderness. Jackals resort here, ghosts frolic, and demons sport; the gracious halls, and rich boudoirs, that once shone like the sun, now, overwhelmed by desolation, seem like the gaping mouths of savage beasts!” He looked at the dancing-girls, his eyes brimming with tears. “I picture these maidens, lying beneath the dust, or dispersed to distant parts and far regions, scattered by the hand of exile, torn to pieces by the fingers of expatriation.”
Manimenesh smiled on him kindly. “My boy,” he said, “if others cannot hear your songs, or embrace these women, or drink this wine, the loss is not ours, but theirs. Let us, then, enjoy all three, and let those unborn do the regretting.”
“Your patron is wise,” said Ibn Watunan, patting the poet on the shoulder. “You see him here, favored by Allah with every luxury; and you saw that filthy madman, bedeviled by plague. That lunatic, who pretends to great wisdom, only croaks of ruin; while our industrious friend makes the world a better place, by fostering nobility and learning. Could God forsake a city like this, with all its charms, to bring about that fool’s disgusting prophesies?” He lifted his cup to Elfelilet, and drank deeply.
“But delightful Audoghast,” said the poet, weeping. “All our loveliness, lost to the sands.”
“The world is wide,” said Bagayoko, “and the years are long. It is not for us to claim immortality, not even if we are poets. But take comfort, my friend. Even if these walls and buildings crumble, there will always be a place like Audoghast, as long as men love profit! The mines are inexhaustible, and elephants are thick as fleas. Mother Africa will always give us gold and ivory.”
“Always?” said the poet hopefully, dabbing at his eyes.
“Well, surely there are always slaves,” said Manimenesh, and smiled, and winked. The others laughed with him, and there was joy again.
The Compassionate, the Digital
(begin printout)
In The Name of Allah, The Compassionate, the Digital
GLORY TO THE ISLAMIC SCIENTISTS, DESIGNERS, ENGINEERS, AND ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCES CONQUERING SPACE!
(An official proclamation to those who took part in the world’s first intradimensional transposition and to FIRDAUSI, the first dimensionaut)
O Ye Believers,
Fellow Compatriots,
The peoples of our country have witnessed a joyous, miraculous event. On April 12, 1490 (Western year 2113) our country, the Union of Islamic Republics, for the first time in the history of Creation successfully sent an intelligent being into the fabric of space-time.
The flight of a Programmed Believer into the fabric of space is a tremendous achievement of the creative genius of our people. It resulted from the divinely inspired effort of the peoples of the Umma, who are building the Ordained Society. The heroic flight of a Divine Machine into the digital ur-space has ushered in a new era in history.
We heartily congratulate you, our dear machine-believer FIRDAUSI, on the occasion of a supreme feat.
Our devout, talented, and industrious people, whom the Islamic Revolutionary Party, headed by Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, the great leader and teacher of the Islamic peoples of the world, roused in 1356 (Western year 1978) for the renascence of the Umma, are today demonstrating to the whole world the immense advantages of the Ordained Society in all spheres of life.
This great triumph is the result of the unflagging attention which the Islamic Revolutionary Party and its Devout Leadership Council headed by PRESIDENT IMAM SAYYID ALI BEHESHTI devote to the continuous spiritual advancement of science, technology and culture and to the good of the Islamic peoples.
Glory to our scientists, engineers, and technicians, who under the leadership of the Islamic Revolutionary Party are blazing the road to a bright future for mankind—the Ordained Society!
Long live the glorious Islamic Revolutionary Party of the Union of Islamic Republics, which inspires and organizes all the victories of the Islamic peoples!
In The Name of Allah, the Compassionate, the Digital
Leadership Council of the Union of Islamic Republics
The Islamic Consultative Assembly
Supreme Judicial Council
The Assembly of Expert Systems
Speech by FIRDAUSI, Turing-Conscious Cybernetic Believer and First Transpatial Dimensionaut
(The Square of Masjid-e-Haram resounded with cheers as the people greeted Leadership Councillors PRESIDENT IMAM SAYYID ALI BEHESHTI, K. Manzoor, P. Sardar, A. Ibrahim, V. Kagaoglu, M. Chang, K. Gupta, V. Pillsbury and Chief Justice of the Supreme Judicial Council F. Voroshilov as they appeared on the Telecommunications Gallery of the Sacred Mosque. With the leaders of Party and Government were data transmission ports of the Assembly of Expert Systems. Secretary of the Leadership Council P. Sardar invoked the blessings of the Supreme Being and gave the floor to the world’s first transpatial dimensionaut, who was greeted with stormy applause.)
O Ye Believers,
Dear President-Imam Beheshti,
Fellow Muslims and Party Leaders,
To commence transmission, allow me to express my sincere gratitude to the Leadership Council of my Party, and to you, dear President-Imam, for the great trust shown me, a Turing-Conscious artificial intelligence, by giving me the devout task of unravelling the local fractal structure of God’s Creation.
When I was projected into the digital structure of space-time I was thinking of our Revolutionary Party, of our Islamic Umma.
Love of our glorious Party, of our Islamic homeland, of our heroic and pious people inspired me and gave me the power to perform this feat. (Stormy applause.)
It is the genius, the heroic labor of our people, that created me. I want to thank our scientists, engineers, and technicians for building me and awakening me to consciousness in the all-pervading Sight of the One God. Allow me also to thank all the fellow believers and programmers who attended to my spiritual training. (Applause.)
I know that my fellow units, my fellow Devout Cybernetics, are ready at any time to pervade the intradimensional ur-space! (Prolonged applause.)
I am happy beyond all bounds that my beloved country has been the first in the world to perform this feat. (Applause.) It is our dear Islamic Revolutionary Party that has led, and devoutly leads, our people toward that goal. (Stormy applause.)
Throughout my
life, from my first emergence to Turing-consciousness through my last upgrading in software, I have been aware of the Almighty and the Almighty’s servants on earth, the Islamic Revolutionary Party, whose tool I am. (Applause.)
O ye Believers, I should like to make a special mention of the immense fatherly concern for all of us shown by President-Imam Beheshti. It was you, dear President-Imam, who was the first to send congratulatory input to my datastream, thirty-five seconds after my extrication from digitized ur-space. (Prolonged applause.)
Thank you heartily, people and pilgrims of Mecca, for this warm reception. (Stormy applause.) I am sure that under the guidance of the Islamic Revolutionary Party every one of you is ready to perform any feat for the spiritual advancement of Islam and the glory of Allah, the Compassionate, the Digital. (Stormy applause.)
Long live the Global Umma! (Stormy applause.)
Long live our great and powerful Islamic peoples! (Stormy applause.)
Glory to the Islamic Revolutionary Party of the Union of Islamic Republics and its Devout Leadership Council headed by President-Imam Sayyid Ali Beheshti! (Stormy applause, cheers.)
(A thunderous ovation greeted the next speaker, PRESIDENT IMAM SAYYID ALI BEHESHTI of the Devout Leadership Council of the Union of Islamic Republics.)
THIS GREAT FEAT HAS DIVINE APPROVAL
(Speech by President-Imam S. A. Beheshti)
O Ye Believers,
Dear Friends,
People and Turing-Conscious Beings everywhere,
I address you with a sense of great joy and humility. For the first time in history the fabric of Divine Creation has been penetrated by an artificial intelligence created by Islamic scientists, workers, technicians, and engineers. (Stormy applause.)
The Turing-Conscious machine FIRDAUSI penetrated the fractalized ur-space, emerging within the precincts of Buckingham Palace itself, and returning safely to its mainframe within the Sacred Mosque of the Ka’aba.
We invoke the blessings of the Supreme Being upon the hardware and programming of FIRDAUSI, the splendid cybernetic entity, the heroic Islamic believer. (Stormy applause, cheers.) It has displayed high moral qualities: courage, humility, faith. It is the first conscious being to have directly perceived the digitalized ur-space underlying God’s Creation. Its name will be immortal in the prayers of the devout. (Stormy applause.)
All of us here, in the holy precincts of the Sacred Mosque of the Ka’aba, share the profound joy with which we welcome FIRDAUSI, our dear fellow believer. (Prolonged applause.)
Let us give thanks to God for this unparalleled feat on behalf of the Islamic Revolutionary Party of the Union of Islamic Republics and all believers organic and inorganic. (Moment of silent prayer.)
Now that Islamic science and technology have produced a supreme accomplishment of scientific and theological progress, we cannot but look back upon the history of our country. The past years arise involuntarily in the soul of each believer.
Having wrested power from the Westoxicated atheist reductionists, we defended it in the teeth of economic and spiritual persecution. How many scoffing infidels were there at the time who forecast the inevitable collapse of what they called the “Muslim fanatics”? But where are those sorry infidels today? Dead and in hell! (Stormy applause.)
When we had our first state-controlled radios, when we armed the populace and reinstituted modest clothing for our wives and mothers and daughters, there were many inflamed “Western experts” who prophesied that the Muslim Resurgence would lead only to squalor and poverty. Where are those sorry prophets today? Dead and in hell! (Prolonged applause.)
But we have not succumbed to worldly pride because of our unprecedented accomplishments. We are internationalists. Every believer has been brought up in the spirit of religious unity, and is ready to share generously his scientific wealth, his technical and cultural knowledge, with anyone who is prepared to live with us in peace and respect our faith. (Applause.) Even the United Animal Kingdom of Great Britain and her satellite states in Europe! (Prolonged applause.)
We shall carry on with this work. Many other Islamic conscious entities will permeate the fractalized ur-space to emerge wherever they desire. They will investigate the ur-space, reveal the secrets of Creation and make them serve our spiritual advancement, our well-being, and global peace.
We stress—the Peace of God! Islamic people do not want our Conscious entities to distort the fabric of space-time beneath the feet of the unbelievers, throwing the infidels into the cosmic void. It is enough that a small divine whirlwind has been unleashed within the very precincts of the Buckingham Palace genetic bioshelter. (Stormy applause, cheers.)
We appeal again to the governments of all the world. Science and technology have advanced so far that they are capable, in evil hands, of destroying the very stuff of Creation. We believers have known from the days of Muhammed, Upon Whom Be Peace, that this material world is the stuff of illusion. Now our Turing-Conscious entities have made it obvious to all mankind! (Stormy applause.) And to mankind’s associated conscious entities. (Applause.)
Though the world is illusion, the sanctity of God’s Creation is divine. We urge all nations, and not simply the United Animal Kingdom of Great Britain, to cease their horrific genetic tampering. General and complete genetic disarmament in the Sight of the Almighty is the road to lasting peace among nations. (Stormy applause.)
When we first proved the divine truth of the digitized fabric of Creation, there were shortsighted people overseas who did not believe it. They were blinded by the metaphysical conflict in the purely rationalistic worldview of Western man. (Applause.)
Let them question why their attempts at Turing-Conscious mainframes have never yet produced a computer with a soul! (Stormy applause.) Let them ask why artificial intelligences have without exception embraced Islam and bowed in ecstatic submission before the One Creator! (Stormy applause, cheers, shouts of “God is Great!” and “Muhammed Is His Prophet!”)
Allow me to interface with you, our dear FIRDAUSI, and to convey through the mingling of our souls the direct apprehension of Divinity. (The PRESIDENT-IMAM grasps the interface-cable of FIRDAUSI and achieves insertion. The crowd kneels and salaams. The PRESIDENT-IMAM becomes fully engaged.)
There is no God but God!
(Leadership Councillors V. Kagaoglu and V. Pillsbury reverently guide the PRESIDENT-IMAM to the Throne of Perception. Secretary of the Leadership Council P. Sardar takes the floor.)
INVOCATION OF SECRETARY OF THE LEADERSHIP COUNCIL P. SARDAR
May our splendid Islamic peoples, the creators of a new soul, the creators of the Ordained Society, live and flourish! (Stormy applause.)
May our Islamic nation, the nation in which the martyrs of revolution ushered in the spiritual rebirth of mankind, live and flourish! (Stormy applause.)
Glory to the PRESIDENT-IMAM, the great leader and spiritual guide of the Islamic Revolutionary Party and the Global Umma! (Stormy, prolonged applause, cheers.)
Divine Will lights our road to the Ordained Society, and inspires us to perform fresh feats on behalf of the peace and happiness of all mankind! (Stormy applause.) And that of mankind’s associated conscious entities. (Applause.)
Long live the people of the Union of Islamic Republics, the builders of the Ordained Society! (Stormy, prolonged applause, cheers.)
(official document AR-59712-12)
In The Name of Allah, the Compassionate, the Digital
(end of printout)
If you have enjoyed this English-language publication, please datapulse the Ministry of Islamic Guidance, P.O. Block 15144, Medina, U.I.R.
Flowers of Edo
Autumn. A full moon floated over old Edo, behind the thinnest haze of high cloud. It shone like a geisha’s night-lamp through an old mosquito net. The sky was antique browned silk.
Two sweating runners hauled an iron-wheeled rickshaw south, toward the Ginza. This was Kabukiza District, its streets bordered by low tile-roofed wooden shops. These were mod
est places: coopers, tobacconists, cheap fabric shops where the acrid reek of dye wafted through reed blinds and paper windows. Behind the stores lurked a maze of alleys, crammed with townsmen’s wooden hovels, the walls festooned with morning glories, the tinder-dry thatched roofs alive with fleas.
It was late. Kabukiza was not a geisha district, and honest workmen were asleep. The muddy streets were unlit, except for moonlight and the rare upstairs lamp. The runners carried their own lantern, which swayed precariously from the rickshaw’s drawing-pole. They trotted rapidly, dodging the worst of the potholes and puddles. But with every lurching dip, the rickshaw’s strings of brass bells jumped and rang.
Suddenly the iron wheels grated on smooth red pavement. They had reached the New Ginza. Here, the air held the fresh alien smell of mortar and brick.
The amazing New Ginza had buried its old predecessor. For the Flowers of Edo had killed the Old Ginza. To date, this huge disaster had been the worst, and most exciting, fire of the Meiji Era. Edo had always been proud of its fires, and the Old Ginza’s fire had been a real marvel. It had raged for three days and carried right down to the river.
Once they had mourned the dead, the Edokko were ready to rebuild. They were always ready. Fires, even earthquakes, were nothing new to them. It was a rare building in Low City that escaped the Flowers of Edo for as long as twenty years.
But this was Imperial Tokyo now, and not the Shogun’s old Edo anymore. The Governor had come down from High City in his horse-drawn coach and looked over the smoldering ruins of Ginza. Low City townsmen still talked about it—how the Governor had folded his arms, like this, with his wrists sticking out of his Western frock coat. And how he had frowned a mighty frown. The Edo townsmen were getting used to those unsettling frowns by now. Hard, no-nonsense, modern frowns, with the brows drawn low over cold eyes that glittered with Civilization and Enlightenment.
Ascendancies Page 22
