Infoquake Part 16

Jara stood and listened to the jabber of the couple beside her as she waited for Margaret Surina to take the stage. Personally, she sided with the doomsayer who feared the imminent collapse of the computational system. She looked around at the thirty-five thousand visible spectators filling the arena and tried to imagine the seraphic order of number needed to describe the bandwidth requirements for so many people.

But the vertigo did not end there. The Surina auditorium statistics told her there were actually 413 million multi projections here waiting for Margaret to reveal the mystery behind the Phoenix Project. 413 million people whose brains were trying to maintain the illusion that they were real bodies inhabiting real Cartesian s.p.a.ce, when that was clearly impossible.

The a.n.a.lyst summoned a calculator and wide-eyed her way through the math. 413 million people wedged into a s.p.a.ce designed to fit thirty-five thousand real bodies. Which meant that right now almost twelve thousand people from every corner of the solar system believed they were standing in the exact same spot as Jara....

Then she noticed that the attendance had skyrocketed another 150 million spectators. Jara shook her head violently. Human minds could not comprehend such vastness. Better to swallow the sweet lotus of multi and be done with it.

Especially when she had so many more urgent questions to contend with. Like where was the rest of the fiefcorp? What was this "Phoenix Project" that had so entranced the public's imagination and completely absorbed the world's richest woman for years? How did Natch fit into this whole puzzle? And how would this new technology affect her job?

Just then, a young woman in a green-and-blue Surina security uniform pa.s.sed mere centimeters away from Jara's right side. The woman-no, the girl-had her dartgun drawn and was clearly petrified. I'd be petrified too, thought Jara, if I had a few thousand Defense and Wellness Council troops on my heels.

Which brought up the most perplexing question of all: What was the Council waiting for?

Moments later, Margaret Surina took the stage. Jara hadn't seen her arrive, so she couldn't say for sure whether Sheldon Surina's heir had multied onto the stage. Margaret had chosen a formless robe that draped across the floor like a tent and slowly changed colors from blue to green and back again. Her frosted black hair lay across her shoulders. She seemed completely calm, like the commander who had already greenlighted a battle plan and now waited for its outcome to slowly unfold.

And just as the bodhisattva opened her mouth to speak, a hundred doors slammed open at once, and the Council made its entrance.

With dartguns crossed over their chests and eyes fixed forward, they came marching into the auditorium single file, like robots. The crowd parted anxiously to make way for the soldiers. Some cut their multi connections on the spot, but most quickly recognized that the officers were carrying few disruptors. No, whatever High Executive Borda's intentions were, sowing panic in the crowd was not one of them. The lead Council officers stopped meters away from the stage.

If Margaret feared an imminent death, she did not show it. She regarded the intruders with an icy stare that said, Whatever you have planned for me, you're going to have to do it in front of 700 million people. Jara did not know much about Margaret Surina aside from the standard drudgic plat.i.tudes and generalities, but at this moment she felt a great surge of admiration for the woman.

The Council troops stood at attention, their rifles before them, and did nothing.

A hush fell over the crowd as the bodhisattva began to speak.

"Once upon a time," said Margaret, "we believed in technology.

"Our ancestors were the original engineers. They discovered the laws that govern the universe and learned how to master them. They paved the earth with rock and sent wheeled machines to rumble across it. They spread to the four corners of the earth and, not satisfied, flew to the heavens. Still not satisfied, they flew to the stars.

"And somewhere along the way, they got lost.

"Somewhere between the first man to build stone tools and the first woman to create an artificial intelligence, our ancestors became separated from their innovations. They stopped seeing their creations as extensions of themselves, and started seeing them as external to themselves. Other. Distant. Remote.

"Science became an impersonal G.o.d, a grim idol beyond reproach or appeal.

"And once technology was no longer a part of them, it became an enemy to conquer.

"The G.o.d that had been embedded within them all became a force to be chained and made to do their bidding. Instead of seeking communion with the G.o.d, instead of striving to understand the kernel of truth that is within us all, they sacrificed their own skills to feed him. Our machines will do more so we may do less, they said.

"And so, in the apogee of their folly, our ancestors created the Autonomous Minds."

A rustle of disapproval from the audience. A hateful murmuring.

"The Autonomous Minds: eight machines committed to managing the world economy, eight machines entrusted to safeguarding the environment, eight machines consigned to solving the problems of human diplomacy. Eight intelligences so vastly other that our ancestors feared to 'taint' them with human morals and ideals. Imagine having more faith in a lifeless machine than in a human being!

"Our ancestors abandoned their independence to the Autonomous Minds. They delivered the reins of the earth into the hands of the Minds. They trusted in the order of the Keepers to convey their will, using the arcane machine tongues that only the Keepers could speak.

"It was to prove humanity's greatest mistake."

A monolithic structure floating in the midst of the auditorium, a holographic representation of the world's first orbital colony, Yu. Circular platforms within platforms performing an intricate dance to the symphony of G-force. Gardens of unparalleled lushness and beauty like that mythical garden lost in the deeps of time. Citizens basking in the warm spring of eternal Progress under controlled atmospheric domes.

"Yu," Margaret continued. "Humanity's greatest hope. An experiment to bring us out of earth's cradle and into the stars. A self-contained community of ten thousand, constructed in orbit above the earth, stocked with a cross-section of humanity's best and brightest. Yu was the culmination of thousands of years of Chinese art, science and culture-and its controls were placed in the hands of the Autonomous Minds and their Keepers.

"But this arrangement was not destined to last."

Shrieks, sighs, tears of anguish from the crowd at the first detonation. And the second.

Daisy-chain explosions rocking the orbital structure, domes bursting and debris spinning off into the void of merciless s.p.a.ce. The spinning discs suddenly still. Pandemonium. Colonists scrambling like mad for their primitive s.p.a.cecraft. Companions reaching to hold their loved ones in a last embrace. And then the death spiral-the shuddering descent into the earth's atmosphere-the shrieking burning h.e.l.lfire plunge through the clouds, in an unstoppable trajectory towards the lofty towers of New York City ...

Bracing for impact- The simulation vanished. Margaret was once again alone onstage.

"We may never know what caused the Minds and their Keepers to strike the first blow in the Autonomous Revolt," she said. "Were the Minds acting in collusion to exterminate the human race, as some have suggested? Or was the sabotage of Yu a power grab by the Ec.u.menical Council of New Alamo? Did the cloned soldiers of the Allahu Akbar Emirates have an agenda of their own?

"The ultimate truth lay buried beneath the rubble of eight continuous years of war, along with the empty burned-out husks of the Autonomous Minds.

"Humanity's cult of the G.o.d had ended.

"The consequences of our ancestors' folly? Nearly two billion dead and the great nation-states of antiquity left in ruins.

"During the Big Divide which followed, the elaborate technologies of our ancestors were gradually forgotten-forgotten, or sabotaged by Luddite mobs intent on destroying all that the Minds had touched. The triumphant engineering works of our ancestors gradually fell into disrepair. New Alamo descended into murderous fundamentalism, the Allahu Akbar Emirates disintegrated, the Chinese Territories and the Democratic American Collective vanished into irrelevance."

A panoply of still pictures now floating about the auditorium, portraits of an age. Skeletal cities. Haggard mobs with makeshift uniforms marching through city streets. Smoke rising from pyres fueled by the gnarled carca.s.ses of inventors and scientists. Demagoguery, fanaticism, starvation. The corpse of a child.

Margaret continued: "And so the surviving nations bowed down before the whims of the mob. Strict anti-technology laws appeared around the globe. The innovators of the age had to present their discoveries on bended knee to the moralists and functionaries and politicians who used the fears of the ma.s.ses to cling to power. Works of the ancient programmers and physicists moldered in decaying books and unreadable discs written on dead machines.

"Science was on the cusp of extinction. Humanity had fallen into its own death spiral.

"My ancestor Sheldon Surina changed all that."

As Margaret paused for breath, Jara surveyed the crowd. The attendance had settled at 738 million multi projections, if the auditorium figures were to be believed, and who knew how many billions more were watching or listening remotely. Whatever the number, Jara had never seen such a ma.s.s of people so mesmerized before. The only sound to be heard throughout the arena was the quiet susurration of shifting fabric and shuffling feet.

Jara looked around and noticed that the Defense and Wellness Council troops remained aloof. No hint of purpose crossed their placid brows.

"Sheldon Surina," intoned Margaret. "The man whom we honor here tonight. The man who would have been four hundred years old today." The Father of Bio/Logics himself floated over her head, a scrawny man with a big nose standing in mid-speech with his arm extended. "My ancestor stood before the proctors at the Gandhi University here in Andra Pradesh-just across the courtyard, in fact-and declared, There is no problem that we cannot solve through scientific innovation. Moments later, he turned this statement into a mission for humanity: There is no problem that we should not solve through scientific innovation.

"Think of the courage that required! Think of telling a world decimated by technology and hobbled by superst.i.tion-a world ruled by the draconian edicts of the Ec.u.menical Council and the crazed prophecies of the New Jesuses-think of telling that world that science could solve all its problems!

"Sheldon Surina did.

"Had he stopped there, the man we have come to know as the Father of Bio/Logics might have ended up just another martyr to the ideals of science. But Sheldon Surina did not just say we should look to science-he came down into the real world and showed us how. He invented the discipline of bio/logics. He designed the first programs to automate the care of the human body. He created the industry that conquered the virus, the industry that tamed the brain, the industry that prolonged life and reengineered birth. All without Minds.p.a.ce, without bio/logic programming bars, without the Data Sea as we know it today.

"Most of all, Sheldon Surina renewed our faith in the powers of humanity. He taught us that scientific enlightenment does not descend to us from without, but grows from within. He showed us we did not have to forfeit our intellects to Autonomous Minds or suffer from the ignorance of Luddism-instead, we could use technology to empower ourselves. Sheldon Surina's words and ideals were the beginning of the Reawakening, that great age of progress and prosperity which continues to this day.

"Of course, progress did not come without peril. The founder of this house spent many years of his life in hiding from the Texan governments that had sworn to destroy him. He watched his friend and colleague Henry Osterman, founder of the OCHRE Corporation, slowly succ.u.mb to bitterness and paranoia. He spent his own latter days combating the forces of tyranny which sought to dominate the world with their ruthless and narrow-minded oppression. A fight that continues to this day."

Margaret's allusion to the Defense and Wellness Council did not go over the audience's head. A low murmur snaked through the crowd. Jara saw one of the white-robed men near her break into a wry grin.

"All things come to an end, and Sheldon Surina's life was no exception. But after Sheldon's death, the Surinas did not shirk their duty to humanity. Through the Center for Historic Appreciation here in Andra Pradesh, through Creed Surina and through the Surina family investments in bio/logics, we have continued to serve humanity's quest for progress and enlightenment.

"And Sheldon Surina was not the last visionary to emerge from Andra Pradesh.

"Six years after his death, Prengal Surina published the Universal Law of Physics, which unlocked the potential of every rock, tree, and blade of gra.s.s to serve as a quantum energy source. His work freed us from the dictates of our surroundings, the limitations of our resources, the oppression of ancient Einsteinian physics. Without Prengal Surina and his Universal Law, an event like this one today would not be possible. Multi projections would be a pipe dream, and subaether communication would be an arcane tool of academics.

"In recent years, my father Marcus took up the family's mantle of service. Marcus Surina had spent many years denying his heritage. But when he finally took his rightful place as the heir to the Surina family, he pioneered bold new approaches to teleportation technology. Many believe that, had he not suffered a tragic death in the orbital colonieshad he been given the opportunity to fulfill his mission-Marcus would have brought cheap and efficient teleportation to the world, and we would live in a better place."

Above Margaret's head, the stern visage of Prengal Surina shifted to that of Marcus in all his Adonic beauty. Jara stared at the dead man and felt the same tangled knot of emotions his face always stirred up. Few had inspired so much hope. Few had left so much devastation.

"And so, what have we, the Surinas, contributed to the world?" Margaret continued.

"I believe Sheldon Surina and his descendants have remained true to the highest ideals of humanity. We have used scientific advancement to improve the human condition. We have provided choices and expanded opportunities. We have enlightened the mind instead of constricting it. And it is in that spirit that I stand before you today."

Margaret paused and took a few dramatic steps forward. "Citizens of earth, Luna, Mars and the colonies-Islanders and Pharisees-I stand here on the occasion of Sheldon Surina's four hundredth birthday to announce the ultimate fulfillment of his ambitions."

All at once, several hundred million spectators took a sharp intake of breath. Inside herself, Jara could feel a gathering hurricane of emotion, wrath and hope that threatened to sweep out of control. She could feel the clouds gathering throughout the arena, and for a moment it seemed as if the hopes and dreams of humanity had suddenly coalesced around one blue-eyed woman in Andra Pradesh.

The Council officers began to shift nervously on their feet. Dozens of dartguns and disruptors surrept.i.tiously crept off the floor and into the soldiers' hands.

Margaret Surina continued, her face devoid of emotion.

"The Surina Perfection Memecorp is preparing to unveil one of the most important scientific breakthroughs since the dawn of the Reawakening-possibly the most important advance in the history of humanity.

"It is the ultimate freedom.

"It is the ultimate empowerment.

"It is the path to complete control over our destinies.

"The Surina Perfection Memecorp has discovered a technology to create multiple realities, and we call this technology MultiReal."

And with that, the storm broke.

It began with a low rumbling of information, a mental thunder the likes of which Jara had never experienced. She could actually sense, somewhere off in the distance, a disturbance in the Data Sea's flow. Data agents converging on some far-away point in the informational topography.

Then there was a sudden eruption.

Jara could hear random soundbites echoing through her head, echoes of Margaret's words spoken in a thousand different voices: Ultimate freedom. Complete control over our destinies. Fulfillment of the Sarinas' ambitions. MultiReal. This split-second of chaos was nearly enough to make her lose her balance. The a.n.a.lyst quickly fired up UnDizzify 93 and, by instinct, reached for something to steady herself against-only to discover that the entire crowd was swaying with vertigo. Everywhere Jara looked, spectators were blinking in confusion at the sudden blast of cerebral white noise.

Black code, she thought.

Jara instantly shot off a request to check the security of her possessions. Her Vault accounts, her dismal apartment, the databanks holding all her programming and personal information. Everything seemed fine, but with the deluge of incoming messages and Confiden- tialWhispers washing in from every side, it was hard to tell. The Vault was spouting off warnings and informational bulletins by the dozens, followed in close succession by scores of redundant updates from the Meme Cooperative, the Prime Committee, her L-PRACG. Horvil, Merri, Vigal and her sister sent her two messages apiece asking if she was okay.

Jara closed her eyes and tried to screen out the chaos. She could only imagine the computational mayhem caused by half a billion multi projections spraying billions of simultaneous requests at the Data Sea.

Things were no better when she opened her eyes.

The Council officers were on the move. Men and women in white robes advanced on the stage with grim looks on their faces, dart rifles drawn. A handful of disruptor blasts sent multi projections flickering out into nothingness, clearing a path to the front of the arena. The rest of the crowd began scattering this way and that in confusion. Meanwhile, the Surina security forces had drawn their rifles as well and had formed a rapidly tightening circle around the stage. Several dozen guards on both sides lay twitching on the ground with black code darts jutting from their torsos.

Unbelievably, Margaret was still speaking. Either none of the darts was flying in her direction, or none of them had managed to hit her yet. Her face was ghosted over with panic, yet she stood firm and tried to make herself heard over the tumult.

"The creation of multiple realities," she said. "It sounds like a tale we tell children in the hive. But soon we will consider multiple realities as common as OCHREs, as practical as bio/logic programs, and as necessary as oxygen.

"What would our lives be like if we had made different choices? In the Age of MultiReal, we will wonder no more-because we will be able to make many choices. We will be able to look back at checkpoints in our lives and take alternate paths. We will wander between alternate realities as our desires lead us.

"The ever-changing flux of MultiReal will become reality.

"Just as bio/logics freed us from the tyranny of the body ... just as the Universal Law of Physics freed us from the tyranny of nature ... just as teleportation freed us from the tyranny of distance ... so MultiReal will free us from the tyranny of cause and effect itself.

"Throughout human history, we have been striving towards greater freedom. Freedom is our destiny and our birthright. And in the age to come-in the Age of MultiReal-we will all be empowered to pursue our individual freedoms however we choose.

"And I say this: "Only when we can truly choose our own destinies will we be completely free."

Jara could not say for certain whether or not Margaret had finished her speech. Because at that moment the Surina security guards elbowed their way onstage, a mere two steps ahead of the Defense and Wellness Council troops. Jara watched with mouth agape as a whiterobed officer raised her dartgun at Margaret Surina and prepared to fire.

But then an enormous man with a blonde ponytail swooped out of nowhere and wrapped his arms around the bodhisattva, shielding her from harm. My goodness, thought Jara, is that an Islander? The Council officer aimed her weapon high and let off a warning shot. Within seconds, the man had whisked Margaret through the stage door. A number of Surina functionaries quickly scrambled after her.

Among those hustling backstage, Jara noted with slack-jawed amazement, was a certain lean fiefcorp master whose wolfish grin she would have recognized anywhere.

4.

THE SURINA/NATCH.

MULTIREAL.

F I EECORP.

Dozens of kilometers above the earth's surface, a cl.u.s.ter of hydrogen atoms danced in a copper tube. After several billion oscillations, the hydrogen maser clock declared that a second had pa.s.sed.

It was midnight.

The news pa.s.sed via subaether to a processing station run by the Meme Cooperative. The station-itself a small metallic box also floating in geostationary orbit-consulted its internal tables and determined that the time had come to sp.a.w.n a data newt for the Pierre Loget Fiefcorp. The newt was born mere picoseconds after midnight.

A data newt did not need sixteen years of hive education to fathom its purpose. The mother station had stamped a destination into the newt's very atomic structure, a destiny to fulfill. But it was impossible to know what paths the data structure would need to take or what obstacles it would face along the way. And so the newt was endowed with a level of autonomy and given all the logical tools it would need to carry out its duties. Internal schedules, communication routines, self-replication instructions, maps of the quantum universe. Then the mother station ushered the newt out into the world.

The newt accessed its internal schedule and noted that its first stop was a set of spatial coordinates in a nearby processing station. Upon its arrival, the station challenged the newt to state its credentials and destination. The newt consulted its fore table and found the answers to these perplexing questions: Pierre Ulyanich Loget Fiefcorp, BizWorks 139.5f, Natch Personal Programming Fiefcorp. Satisfied with the newt's response, the station directed its microscopic visitor towards a collection of static information belonging to the Natch Personal Programming Fiefcorp.