by Rabia Rahou
Konu
The Masterpiece
Rabia Rahou
Paperback Edition 1 / May 2021
ISBN: 9798578637995
Imprint: Independently Published
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright @ 2021 Rabia Rahou
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
Dedication
For Marta…
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to every unusual character I met in my short life. You nourished this book with your unique experiences and stories and made this book original as you all were.
But most importantly to my editor Bill Smart, for his dedication and professionalism. Bill, thank you for your hard work.
Foreword
Through the written meditations of the main protagonists, the story of the most important event of the modern age is unveiled. Konu is a mysterious young colonel who was promoted by the First Citizens, the group of the seventh wealthiest persons in the world, to be the new Chief of the Armies of their empire and protect their new invention, the ultimate A.I machine, or a new being with infinite wisdom, as it will predict for them the future with accuracy.
The First Citizens are hoping to finish the machine on time before the three other empires strike a Doomsday attack. as they will become easy prey for the Seven Deities since all their arsenals will be absolute if the machine comes into existence.
As everyone is struggling in containing the other, no one suspected Konu to be the most important piece of this puzzling tale about the paradoxical flow of time, love, God, and psychedelics.
The heroes of this story are beyond our judgment, as they are, in fact, free minds that could care less about our pointing fingers.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Introduction
Chapter 1 – Our World
Chapter 2 – The Amians
Chapter 3 – Conglomerates
Chapter 4 – Mastery
Chapter 5 – The Boring Look Is the Safest
Chapter 6 – The League
Chapter 7 – The Festival
Chapter 8 – The Royalties, The Rotanios
Chapter 9 – The Quantum World
Chapter 10 – The Religious Regime, the Bamos
Chapter 11 – The Supernova
Chapter 12 – Wonfuse, the First Citizen
Chapter 13 – D-Day
Chapter 14 – It’s On!
Chapter 15 – Solitude and Betrayal
Chapter 16 – The Meeting
Chapter 17 – A Thousand Men Worth
Chapter 18 – Dying Now Is a Luxury that We Can’t Afford
Chapter 19 – Seizing Power Is Easy. Keeping it Is Hard.
Chapter 20 - Drying the Blood
Chapter 21 – Hello, It’s Me
Chapter 22 – True Criminal
Chapter 23 – The Telegraphs
Chapter 24 – Goodbye Oina
Chapter 25 – Time to Go
About the Author
Introduction
Me, and the Little Guy
“So…you think you do understand yourself? Maybe…you should think again.”
~ the Little Guy.
A nomadic walk under a rainy night through the streets of our megalopolis, as I often do... Anger and hate are closing in on my tortured soul. The world is sickening me to the point where I’m addicted to psychedelics.
An old soldier must die, as he keeps asking for pardons for every crime he is committing to heal his wounded soul. A tragic existence has been inflicted on him because he understood that nothing is genuine. He finally grasped the true nature of the world – it is fake and full of pretenders, and they are corrupting every good thing with mediocrity and cowardliness. The same pretenders that ignite fires and send him to fight it, just to prove a point in their miserable saloons that are full of cowards. The ones that think war and peace are just two sides of a coin that they can flip whenever they want.
More drugs, please. I need to stay alive. Something genuine is there in the end – a lover, a friend, a god.
Thank goodness! A carry shop run by humans.
“A spicy carry, a tea, please.”
* * *
They told me that mine will be ready in about a month, in a letter, of course. The waiting list is long, as they had a huge demand for their customized THC/DMT cocktail. That’s why I went down to their place. I needed that right now to calm the Little Guy, as he has been showing up almost on a daily basis for the last couple of months. They assured me they could perfectly match my mood if I would just fill in their simple questionnaire, which I doubted.
The questions were simple, and asked for choices of preference, or just a “Yes,” “No,” or “I don’t know.”
Do I like boats, houses, or babies?
Do I have more than 2 friends?
Am I afraid of bugs, betrayal, or bullets?
In another life, would I be a diver, a soldier, or a lumberjack?
If I knew the world would end tomorrow, would I hide, commit suicide, or reflect on myself?
Even if they made no sense, all the 99 questions must all be answered. The proposed answers felt connected somehow, but I couldn’t discern the pattern...strange. Unlike the other psychedelic startups that are popping up like mushrooms, advertising their expertise through the latest AI’s codes, this startup claims they can, on a case by case basis, produce a singular experience for every user. And, I must admit they had the most unusual questionnaire by far. Am I the only person finding this whole new psychedelic AI story weird? I do, because I would think the AI must be a drug connoisseur to prepare the right cocktail for the right user. Therefore, the AI must be a stoner, or at least aware of the psychedelic experience. How is that possible? I doubt that. As in the end, the experience is a feeling, not a behavior, and for sure not a theory of numbers, or…is it now?
I guess it’s just a new advertisement trend, to blend the words of “psychedelics” and “AI” to please the new geeks and other’s kids. If it’s this, then we shouldn’t see the well-educated and informed investors rushing towards them like they were gold mines. Those guys don’t move their precious gains for a shifty trend.
That’s what I said to the stoned cashier. He replied, “You are the guy who asked to be contacted only by letters?”
“Yeah, is that a problem?”
“You showed up here, out of nowhere, by driving all the way from the capital, which is at least three hours…?”
“Five hours. I do avoid the highways.”
“Five hours? And then you filled the questionnaire with a pen, like you are living in a time bubble, then paid with cash like it’s the 90s. And now you think we are the weirdos?
“By the way, I swear, I never in my life have seen a 100 AMS bill before,” he said, holding the bill up to the light and turning it over and over.
“Really? But you’ve got a regular cash machine, on a regular counter, and a sign on top of that – in the middle of nowhere. Plus, I see no humbots serving me unless you are one, which I doubt,” I replied
He took a deep breath. “Renting is cheap here, and I’m a nature enthusiast, so that’s the reason for the location. As for the humbots, you are right. Do you think we should invest in them to serve only you, knowing that you are the only client who took the time to visit us? – Which is much appreciated, by the way. For the sign, the counter, the cash machine, and all the other classic looks that you mentioned, they are for the taxman. I presume he is living in your time bubble too,” he replied with irony. “He is still
forcing every weed startup to be physically registered with an address and all the bullshit around that.”
“Who would come here to check that? It’s a long shot for an obese office worker to move that far for a small shop in the desert.”
“Consoft, buddy. The taxman is renting humbots from them so they can monitor everything, everywhere, all the time. I remember the day we opened here. It was around midnight, and I was having a joint with a beer on the porch. Out there, I saw a humbot in the form of a small ball, rolling down here. It was creepy. The next morning, I received a message from the Bureau of Some Bullshit Commercial Affairs, asking me to turn on the night sign. Unbelievable!”
“Very. In other words, you guys are paying the taxman who is paying Consoft with your own money to monitor you.”
“Tell me about it! Plus, there’s an extra for Consoft as they take a fat percentage of the profits since we use their MRI databases of brains to create a model for our AI – and they charge us like we were a partnership.”
“It’s probably a good idea to see if my cocktail is ready because I want to blow my mind right now,” I reminded him in an attempt to close out this conversation.
“You sound like a cool guy. I’m sorry for treating you like a lunatic. By the way, my name is Ardism; nice meeting you. I feel that I know you from somewhere. Are you famous or something?”
“I do look like the new head of the armies. You’ve probably seen him in the news lately.”
“Oh, that's right, I remember now, the youngest one in the history of the Empire, as they say…I think. But you are not him, right? Just to confirm, buddy.”
“Why do you want to confirm? Is there anything special you would like to chat about with him?”
“Yeah, if it’s you, for sure I would ask for a favour.”
“A favour from the chief of the armies of the biggest strike force in the world? I wonder what he might do for you?”
“My younger brother is a sergeant in the Land Force. Last month, they sent him to the Arctic front at the North Pole. Since then, my stepmother hasn’t stopped crying. She’s raised him ever since he was a baby. She watches the news all day long, and man, all those stories are coming out bad…”
“Yeah, it is happening, and there will be lot of casualties from every side, as we keep fighting for everything, even for snow!”
“So are you…,” the AI alarm cut off the conversation. Finally, my bottle was ready.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
“I need to have you sign this additional paper,” he told me, hesitating.
“I see… Why would I sue you?”
“The thing is, there was a guy that did take the cocktail and… well, things went out of control in his case.”
“Really? Another crazy dude, I presume.”
“No, a normal dude… Well, it happened just once, so… you don’t have to worry about it. He probably had a very rare metabolism.”
“What happened to him? I’m taking it, no worries. Here is the signature. I’m a very average person in every aspect. I’m just curious about his case.”
“Alright… It seemed like our product matched his character perfectly to the point where he started thinking that he was a kind of messiah, running around trying to save the world, and things like that.”
“Really? I see, but he probably had a messianic complex that became amplified by the substance, don’t you think?”
“That’s exactly what the psychiatrists thought. How did you know that? Are you a doctor or something?”
“Not at all. Only a drug enthusiast who stumbles on articles sometimes.”
“Oh, okay. Anyway, the behavioural diagnosis came too late as he had already entered a coma. His family sued us, and we ended up paying a lot. The investors flew away like scared doves.”
“So… that explains the location. You guys went broke and couldn’t afford the high rent in the city.”
“Yeah, sad but true, and I’m not a nature enthusiast either.”
“Is he still in a coma?”
“No, he woke up finally. His family said that he became a little bit different, and that he couldn’t go back to his old life in the normal world. So, he ended up in one of Manfirst’s reserves.”
“A happy ending somehow, as he finally could rest. Anyway, thank you, buddy. I’ve got to go.”
“Take care of your self, and come visit us from time to time, I mean it.”
“I will try.”
I remember opening the car thinking, what a nice guy, as his honesty comforted me somehow. So, I turned back and looked at him smoking his joint on the porch.
“Did you forget something” he asked
“What’s the name of your brother?”
He was astonished, then started laughing and blurted out,
“No! This can’t be true!”
“Just tell me his name. You never know…”
* * *
I need to sit on the tatami; I don’t want to be surprised and fall from my chair like a beginner. The TV must be on too, on a sports channel just in case I lose touch with reality. All set. My green tea mixed with just a couple of drops, for now...
Nothing, I’m feeling normal. What did they say in the prescription? Three drops for maximum effect. Okay, one more then… I’m feeling just right, nothing phenomenal, what a robbery. It was expensive. I hate myself as I always misjudge people.
Usually, I use the substance to shut down the Little Guy, a giant, talking salamander that keeps popping up in my head since forever, and I can’t seem to get rid of him no matter how much I medicate. Luckily, the cannabis does have some effects on him, especially if mixed with a small amount of DMT. It slows him down to an acceptable level.
Although, he is not always bad. I should give him credit for being by my side through some tough times. He’s done this by diverting me from facing my reality or by throwing on me all his philosophical thoughts or, let’s say, his unfinished essays, desperately trying to help me deal with my life. That guy is a paranoiac dreamer, and right now, he is still there and kicking, as this THC/DMT that they extracted from a cocktail of cannabis and other plants, are, unfortunately, not at all the right cocktail for me.
Plan B, I must put him in a dream, the one that always works for him, the one he loves. I call it the woman on the hill. She is calling me from the top of a green hill at sunset, a slow breeze moving the grass slightly, and nothing else but the sound of nature. She, with her long waving hair, looks at me with contentment. Suddenly, the world feels unknown, endless, and I feel insignificant. It is the nicest feeling ever, and sometimes it puts me in the mood to start writing down my disconnected thoughts on paper. That slows down my brain, or let’s say, it channels my noisy thoughts in a kind of meditation and therapy through a physical medium that serves as a filter for the toxic thoughts. Although this time is slightly different. It is highly improbable that I will make it out alive. The salamander suggested that writing can also be an elegant way to leave my thoughts on this world, not for anyone to read, but as a pure consciousness that once existed in this reality. It could be a kind of a witness, one that would always be around as long his story exists.
Still nothing. I mean, I’m feeling fine but not phenomenal like I thought I would. Suddenly, my mood changed, and I started thinking about the real problem that I am trying to avoid, the First Citizens and their insane plan – a big, heavy, and a bloody world-domination campaign. The First Citizens emerged when we started to slide out slowly from the road by delegating almost everything to the conscious machines…
Should I use a ballpoint pen or real ink? I thought to myself. The ink with this small brush looks better. Damn it! I split the ink everywhere.
Stop whining! said the Little Guy. There’s no problem here. Your introduction wasn’t that good, anyway.
Oh yeah? I replied. Well if that’s what you think, check out Chapter 1, then.
Konu
The Masterpiece
&
nbsp; Rabia Rahou
Chapter 1
Our World
“Where the fantasy exists...only in books.”
~ Konu
H ow could we avoid that? Was it just progress, or was it regress? Call it as you want, but it followed a very logical chain of events that was inevitable. The superpowers classified the AI as a world heritage and initiated a program for the third world to catch up with the technology. It didn’t need much knowledge as it was self-taught, self-deployable, and self-maintained. The AI software could be embedded in any computational device. Since it is self-deployable, it automatically sends instructions to any other connected devices to self-copy, initiating the same process over and over. In just a few minutes, all the user devices are connected to each other and aware of their environment. Then, the AI seeks permission from the user to fully manage his devices and, most importantly, his resources in a purely routinized step.
The first campaign encouraging people to use the AI was promoted by Consoft. It presented the worst-case scenarios and then showed how Consoft’s AI system transformed everything to be the best. One of the commercials showed a peasant in a poor country. His small food plot was on a challenging site. He was cultivating it in the traditional way, barely surviving the winters. For this person with his limited knowledge and access to more efficient technologies, chances of prospering in his lifetime were close to zero. However, with Consoft’s AI, it would be possible for him to thrive. The advert shows how the AI can be implemented on the peasant’s devices. It then sends instructions to his other devices to more efficiently use his resources to maximize production. Suddenly, the cultivation and the transportation of his products are done automatically by bots that operate under the AI’s planning. As all Consoft’s bots are powered by sunlight and are silent, fast, self-navigating, and self-maintaining, his field is worked all the time no matter what the conditions are. After a few weeks, and from his window, the peasant can see his small plot replanted with another plant, more suitable for his soil.
