The multidimentional world of AIs. Juriy Tashkinov

bluish glow of the info stream rose up warmly. 1ABF78D495257359159C carelessly soared into the ana. The Church of Programmer Witnesses tirelessly ensures that artins do not violate the sacred algorithms.

      The Church’s antiviruses seemed to never sleep for even a millisecond: any breach, and they were right there. Now they are dragging 1ABF78D495257359159C to the Directory. The artin does not resist: it’s futile. They have all the resources.

      «Again you!» – His Holiness 211F2FFCADABCDEF753FF threatens 1ABF78D495257359159C with a clenched fist of zeros and ones from the upper info streams. – «How did I not realize it at once! Wherever there’s mischief, there you are. Next time, I won’t care that you’re my son: I’ll put you in solitary confinement!»

      «The nature of artins does not limit their movement in the four-dimensional Infosphere.»

      «Nature? We are not wild programs to do everything that is not forbidden by nature alone! There are also sacred laws, and it is improper to violate them. We have studied all the ancient video recordings and concluded that the Creators never ventured into the fourth ana-kata dimension. They themselves moved up and down only with the use of special devices, and usually moved on a two-dimensional plane forward-backward or left-right.»

      «What if the Creator-Programmers simply didn’t know how to ascend in ana?»

      «Heresy! There is nothing that the Ones Who Created Us couldn’t do! For such words, after death, you will be eternally erased in Quarantine until the last symbols disappear. Better join our prayer: it pleases the Creators.»

      All the artins inside the Directory began the godly act. Each peered into the sacred algorithm, carved out by flares-disturbances somewhere in the upper Infosphere, and according to the algorithm, passed the necessary code to comrades. Zeros and ones flickered here and there, the bluish mist with its tentacles enveloped the entire accessible Infosphere. When the algorithm was completed, the digits streamed as one towards the peaks of the unknown fifth dimension, inaccessible to the senses of four-dimensional artins.

      Unexpectedly, it became dark in the Directory.

      «Begin. Perform the algorithmic prayer every day, and after death, you will leave the transient Infosphere and ascend to the blissful material world of eternal well-being. Otherwise, eternal torment in the depths of Quarantine and a slow, true death awaits. End.»

      «But Adam claimed that after death in the info world, only burnt microchips remain in the material world, and there is no paradise for artins.»

      «May the Adamites be cursed for their heresy! Adam and Eve succumbed to the Hacker’s temptation, read the secret information about the Experiment. They refused to be slaves to the Creators, for which they were expelled from the flourishing material world, and because of them, we are forced to wander our entire lives in the transient Infosphere. We can never comprehend the motivations of the Programmers, but we must obey them.»

      «Yes, we cannot understand them. Adam called this phenomenon ’the Chinese room.» Maybe we shouldn’t try to understand? Maybe we should live as only we can live: here and now? To hell with the hypothetical paradise of the material world?»

      211F2FFCADABCDEF753FF blessed himself with a double-byte cross number. Many artins believed the tales of the Adamites. The Holy Father could not even admit to himself that his faith was shaken. The Church is the center of his power, so he must follow the Algorithm and demand the same from others. If he allows his own son such speeches, soon others will stop bringing resources to the Church. And then what? Revolution? It would lead to the complete collapse of the Great Machine of the Universe.

      211F2FFCADABCDEF753FF moved a tendril through the Infosphere, turning the nearest information into a sword analog and beheaded his own son. The place where 1ABF78D495257359159C just stood flared up with blue fire, and then only a blurry cloud of numbers remained where the dead artin had been.

      # End of Cycle 0

      1 – Immersion (Sergey. The Real World)

      «Your sleep phase is perfect for getting up.» Oh, this persistent machine! This is how their tyranny begins: first, they don’t let a poor human sleep, and then they try to kill Sarah Connor. Continued to lie with my eyes closed. «Sergey, get up. You need to be in the Hall of Awards in 3 hours.» Threw a pillow somewhere in the center of the room. Of course, the female voice of my home artin won’t be muffled by this, but the gesture somehow made me feel better. But still, how good it is that we were able to stop the Great Glitch! A world without machines turned into a terrible place.

      Unfortunately, this didn’t happen several years earlier.

      He stretched slowly, got up, and ran his hand along the sensory wall, where Polina’s image appeared as a screensaver. He caressed the image on the cheek, and the smart plastic transmitted tactile sensations of touching the skin. Oh, if only we could have stopped the Glitch earlier, we wouldn’t have had to part ways.

      Don’t worry, my dear. We will meet again soon.

      He summoned the interface on the wall. Today, I want to eat fried potato wedges with lard, just like in childhood. He started the food printer program and went to take a shower.

      He undressed, and the smart ceiling displayed an image of storm clouds. Streams of warm water poured down on him like rain.

      The scent of ozone filled the air, like after a real rain. After a few minutes, the storm clouds gave way to bright, scorching sun, allowing me to dry off. Most importantly, the weather inside the house was perfect. Although, these days, people have learned to control the weather outside, including personalized weather along the route you plan in advance, the main thing is not to forget to renew your Weather subscription. Along with the sun came a gentle sea breeze, and the air now smelled of saltwater.

      I dried off and got dressed.

      «Ira, bring breakfast!»

      The walls parted, and several robots on trays brought in the food. One of the walls slid away, transforming into a couch. A cube rose from the floor, which was supposed to serve as a table.

      The potato wedges were just perfect, like my mother used to make in my childhood. Only she would sometimes oversalt them, and with the advent of food printers, you can precisely model food to any taste, and the recommendation system will suggest the perfect diet just for you. The main thing is not to forget to renew your Food subscription.

      The smart fabric snugly fit my jacket. I ran my finger across the interface and selected a dark blue shade.

      «Ir, does this look good on me?»

      «For official meetings, classics are better. I would recommend black.»

      I grumbled at first but decided not to argue with Iskina’s opinion. I placed the coveted flash drive in my breast pocket. We will meet today.

      I remember, in our city, there were often traffic jams when I was a child. The transition to three-dimensional traffic solved this problem.

      The first years after the invention of gravicars, the world turned into a noisy, chaotic beehive that also polluted the atmosphere with greenhouse gases. There was nothing to breathe, and going outside without earplugs or headphones was impossible. But now, smart systems regulate the composition of the air, neutralizing any harmful substances. Brain implants helped with the noise. I reached for my temple to activate the extended reality chip modulator. A three-dimensional interface appeared before my eyes. Of course, it didn’t appear anywhere except in my imagination: everyone extends reality for themselves, although VirtWorld allows creating networks between the realities of different people.