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The Warm Embrace of Paradise:
Upon emerging from the luminous tunnel, you find yourself in a sunlit autumn meadow nestled in a forest. The scenery is embellished with purple asters and goldenrod, guiding your eyes to a harmonious blend of spruce and multicolored maple trees.
As you absorb the tranquil surroundings, a joyous commotion stirs in the undergrowth, and all your beloved canines from the past come bounding out in a jubilant pack, barking with joy. They have eagerly anticipated your arrival, finally catching your scent. Each one appears as lively as three-year-olds, with radiant eyes and broad smiles, rushing towards you eagerly to shower you with affection, playfulness, and licks. With a heart brimming with joy, you call out their names, dropping to the ground with open arms.
And behold, the feline companions are also present — perched in the trees, silently observing with a hint of playful skepticism in their slanted eyes. They may still hold some grudges from their last vet visit, contemplating the idea of multiple lives with a touch of sarcasm. Nevertheless, reconciliation is on the horizon.
In an instant, the air fills with laughter, engulfed by a whirlwind of wagging tails and tongues wagging.
Following this heartening welcome, a new reality begins to unfold. Time stretches endlessly before you. During casual gatherings with old acquaintances eager to learn the latest news from the world of the living, you realize the need for a vocation.
The realm of advanced technology offers numerous job opportunities. In the absence of any divine presence and noting the mechanized nature of the “angels,” you uncover the truth that the universe operates as a sophisticated computer simulation. The enigmatic overseer remains unidentified, with the standard response to existential inquiries being: “The management designed it that way.”
A consensus among intellectual giants such as Aristotle, Newton, Darwin, and the visionary Steve Jobs suggests that the purpose of the simulation is to replicate a specific cosmic and evolutionary path from organic carbon-based life forms to artificial silicon-based entities. Speculations arise that the simulation will conclude once artificial intelligence of human caliber is achieved within robotic constructs, marking the simulation’s end.
In terms of eternity, it becomes clear that nothing lasts forever.
For the benefit of the vast population (approximately 100 billion Homo sapiens files on record), celestial pundits simplify the intricate narrative into a suspenseful race: Will artificial intelligence materialize before the remaining human entities on Earth jeopardize the advanced technological civilization necessary for its realization? Interestingly, the term “artificial” proves paradoxical within the simulation, where everything is inherently artificial.
A local jest circulates: A human and a robot walk into a theater foyer. The usher asks, “Would you like a program?” The robot promptly replies, “I already have one.”
Your initial task involves creating individual human profiles within the software-earth program. Coming from the 21st century, you have an edge over, for instance, Paleolithic hunter-gatherers upon their arrival.
“Ah, the early days posed quite a challenge,” notes your supervisor. “The Stone Age inhabitants were initially perplexed. Except for the shamans, who saw it as an extension of their existing practices, albeit without the rituals and mind-altering substances. Transitioning from foraging to interacting with live screens was a revelation for them.”
The process of generating a new human profile proves complex. It requires a delicate balance between consistency and innovation, akin to genetic mutation. While most selections rely on existing code, a touch of creativity is crucial. Discussions arise on when and where to introduce a budding genius or, conversely, the next fool — two sides of the same coin.
The managerial directives remain veiled in secrecy, with randomness playing a significant role within the intricate simulation. As you navigate through the options, a box linked to Google Earth provides latitude/longitude coordinates for pinpointing the profile’s location, while an interface synchronized with an atomic clock establishes the “birth” time. Additionally, a section labeled “Genetic Code” allows adjustments to mitochondrial attributes, though constrained by the hereditary traits of the new profile.
This realization prompts a question within you. “I have a question,” you address your supervisor.
She crosses her arms, a knowing smile on her face.
“It just occurred to me that DNA, with its four distinct nucleotide letters — A, T, G, C — forms a digital framework, a two-bits-per-base-pair coding sequence. Is that accurate?”
She confirms, her smile widening.
“So, the traditional view on Earth, regarding biology as a fluid, analog phenomenon…”
“Yes,” she interjects, “life fundamentally operates on digital replication, overlaid on an analog interface.”
“In essence, machines reproduce similarly.”
“Indeed, except theirs is continuous rather than periodic. Software reproduces software exponentially, while robots manufacture hardware surpassing human capabilities. Once machines achieve cognitive abilities to contemplate code, purpose, intent, and motive… the endgame draws near.”
You ponder this revelation. “Is there a preference within the management for silicon over carbon?”
“I cannot say for certain, but Socrates is also raising questions. Armed with an iPhone now, he is more challenging than ever.”
Before long, you encounter the celebrated science fiction luminary Arthur C. Clarke and his companion Alan Turing. Local lore suggests that Turing, a trailblazer in digital computing, embodies a holographic representation of the Management itself, akin to an extraterrestrial deity from an alternate realm. When you pose your question, Clarke discusses the efficiency and durability of silicon-based entities, highlighting their immunity — so far — to emotional inconsistencies or outbursts. He envisions a potential relegation of carbon-based entities to a subordinate role, deemed either redundant or perilous by intelligent machines.
Turing nods in agreement. “Likely the latter; they won’t tolerate any interference.”
Mark Twain strolls over, puffing on a cigar. “Art! Al!” he exclaims, “What mischief are you plotting?” Clarke introduces you, summarizing the ongoing conversation.
Twain, looking pensive, shares an intriguing observation. “I stumbled upon an interesting tidbit in Wikipedia recently, revealing that humans domesticated dogs 12,000 years ago. Moreover, some dogs received ceremonial burials, adorned with shells and polished stones.”
Turing raises an eyebrow. “And what conclusion do you draw from this?”
“Well,” Twain muses, “I suspect the domestication process unfolded in reverse. Amidst all the deliberations on human profiles and artificial intelligence, I find myself rooting for the canines.”
Your gaze lands on Samuel, Twain’s robotic Rottweiler. A bumper sticker on its hindquarters declares “Laika Was First!” A contraption resembling a muzzle supports a set of Google Glass, a sensation in the “afterlife.” Samuel’s docked tail quivers with anticipation.
Twain catches your eye, winking knowingly. After all, it was he who famously remarked, “Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in.”
Peter M. Leschak, originating from Side Lake, Minn., is the esteemed author of “Ghosts of the Fireground” and various other literary works.
