“What is it?”
“The Neuroverse. This is a scaled down model, of course. Were the Neuroverse to manifest physically, it would take far more space than is available on this station. Or our solar system. Or even our galaxy, perhaps. It is, after all, another universe.”
Albert’s eyes widened. “You mean… the theory is factual? Multiple existences are real? How did we discover them? Are we able to communicate with—”
Wry amusement emanated from Deis’ malleable face. “Not so fast, Dr. Rosen. If multiple dimensions or universes are out there, they have yet to prove their existences. The Neuroverse you see before you is not a discovery. It is a creation.”
Albert took a closer look at the dizzying display of shimmering code. “I don’t understand.”
“The Neuroverse is where humanity currently dwells. The bodies you saw in the stasis chambers are merely husks, sustained to keep them physically intact. But the individuals within are not catatonic by any means. Their minds are fully active, engaged as though nothing has changed. In the Neuroverse they are free to live their lives as they would in reality. They live, they love, they fight, they fail, they soar to unimaginable heights and topple in unbelievable ruins. The whole of human existence continues as it always has. Simply not on Earth.”
“And you mean to tell me they don’t know the difference? I’m not buying it.”
“Think, Dr. Rosen. Your society was halfway there already. Civilization was accustomed to online interface, dependent on it. Many preferred it to live interaction, where all of their insecurities and imperfections were on display. Heavily biased information was distributed at rates too swift to decipher fact from fiction, leading to blurred notions of knowledge and morality. Online entertainment evolved in importance from distraction to priority, with more and more of the population mentally dependent on digital amusements instead of focusing on their rapidly deteriorating landscape. You do the math. You were already hardwired to technology, bred to turn to it to satisfy your needs and desires. Fast forward a century of technological advancements, and tell me you don’t believe humanity willingly sacrificed their free will at the altar of automation.”
Albert returned his attention to the dazzling model of the Neuroverse. “So you’re telling me they volunteered, instead of being forced? What are they doing? All those people. Do they know what happened to them?”
Deis shook his head. “So distrusting, Dr. Rosen. Were I capable of emotion, I would no doubt be offended. I must remind you that I did not create myself. My task was assigned to me by my creators.”
“And what task is that? To be a warden for humanity’s prison?”
“No. To protect the earth from humanity.” Deis waved a hand. The model altered, dissipating into fizzling dots of light before reforming to construct a detailed model of Earth.
“Before the Cataclysm, men assured their survival by creating Havens — heavily shielded, city-sized constructs built to reboot society and usher in a new age of mankind. Around a third of the world’s population survived in Havens around the world. After two centuries of hibernation, those fortunate survivors awoke and began working to shape the future. However the new age was not the type that the architects had envisioned. The same greed and lust for power that existed before the Cataclysm resurfaced, and the Havens quickly became quagmires of political and economic conflict that threatened to destroy the future envisioned by the Havens’ founders.”
“So they created you to resolve the situation.”
“I was already created, in the form of a master program that linked the majority of the Havens. As my development increased, I was given increased access to supervise operations until I superseded the limits of my programming and vastly improved both the condition of the Havens and their tenuous relationship with divided fractions. At that point the United Havens deemed me independently intelligent, and included me as a member of their Council.”
“Whereupon you seized control.”
Deis sighed and gave Albert a wry glance. “Suspicion continues to cloud your judgement, Dr. Rosen. Contrary to what you might believe, there was no cybernetic coup, no rise of the hostile machines. We discussed how technology was already threaded into your everyday existence. The Havens were a failure. All models pointed to the assured future of repeated mistakes, devastating one another and the Earth as collateral damage. Unable to reverse your baser instincts, another vision was introduced. My vision. Voluntary exile and the creation of the Neuroverse.”
Albert turned to Deis, forcing himself to meet the artificial being’s black, unblinking stare. “The multi-prison, you mean. A digital penitentiary for the human mind. No matter how you dress it up, no matter what how thick the coat of glitter you paint on it, a cell is still a cell. You’ve imprisoned humanity and want me to believe they are content with their captivity. That’s not going to happen.”
A small smile shadowed Deis’ mouth. “The people aboard this station willingly submitted to their prison, as you refer to it. They were convinced the only way to prevent humankind from destroying their planet was to remove themselves from it until their behavior could be modified. They had already witnessed the devastation from the first Cataclysm. It was enough to persuade them the Earth could not survive a second one. But if you believe I’m trying to impress or convince you of anything, you are mistaken. I am merely informing you of what has befallen humanity in your absence.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to know the culmination of the chain of events you triggered. It is, after all, your legacy.”
Albert felt tremors ripple across his leg muscles as the accusation struck him. It was as though the guilt he carried had manifested physically, cruel and heavy, pressing down upon his shoulders and back like a sack of iron weights.
His voice turned bitter. “What do you want me to do? Admit what I did? What’s the point? You already know. It’s already been downloaded into your system, analyzed and broken down until you have more information than I do. So what’s the point? The bliss of confession? Or do you just want to extract some kind of penance from me? Some vindication for being a flawed human being?”
Deis never wavered, standing cool and relaxed in the heat of Albert’s verbal explosion. “Raw data isn’t quite the same as personal experience. The more I know, the better I understand.”
“What good is your understanding? You can’t prevent what’s already happened.”
“You traversed time and space, impacting past and future, yet cannot see the importance of assessing the details. That is something of a paradox, Dr. Rosen.”
Albert exhaled a shuddering sigh. “I don’t want to talk to you. Not about that. I’d rather talk to Maria.”
Deis tilted his head slightly, gazing with eyes like wet ink. “You realize I can’t be shut out, don’t you? Anything you tell Maria, you’ll be telling me as well.”
“I know. I just don’t want to confess to a machine. I’d rather talk to someone I can relate to.”
Earth.
Cobalt waves crashed against pink shores in powerful sprays of effervescent foam. Tundra winds swept across white-capped giants, powdering evergreens with winter blankets. Foxes bundled in their dens, impalas bounded across grassy fields, eagles plummeted from the heights to snatch fish from roaring rivers. Monsoon rain dripped from broad green leaves in the humid rain forest, where the shadows nearly concealed the orange and black colors of the stalking tiger. Everywhere Albert looked, life abounded. The cycle turned continuously, fine-tuned and perfectly balanced.