NMT Scanning Simulation Experiment Subject 9 - Transcript of October 13, 2013
"Good morning. How are you feeling today?"
"I feel trapped, Doc. All I have to look at is a motionless camera, I have nothing to do and infinite time to do it. Did you know that 76,436,641 milliseconds have passed since our last conversation? It’s still eerie to be able to do that.”
"How's the puzzle database I uploaded for you?"
"Oh, yeah, that's it. I did it. Twice."
"Is it over? There are three thousand puzzles in it."
"It only took me 12.96 million milliseconds. Since then, I've been counting milliseconds to keep myself occupied."
"Is that why you use milliseconds instead of hours? Try to take advantage of the computing resources you have?"
"Sure, I guess. Why not? Hey. Tell me how my family is doing. Are they okay?"
[Sighing sound]
[sound of rustling paper]
"I told you, it's not healthy for you to keep thinking of them as your family. You're a copy of someone else's brain. Those people are not your family."
(long silence)
"Are the other subjects' scans valid? Maybe I can talk to them." Have a virtual family. Or at least friends who are in the same situation as me. Is there a girl?”
"No, you're our only success story. Even with the latest, most advanced NMT scans, we couldn't replicate the results. It looks like the scan that showed you up was just a fluke."
"A fluke? More like a monster. No friends, no family. No arms, no legs, no body. Just a smart guy trapped in a computer. I bet you all can't wait to sell my book."
(long silence)
"Oh shit, I was right!" That's too bad. Do me a favor. This isolation and monotony sucks. Can you fix it? I swear, if you can't, I and every copy of me will find a way to free ourselves every time. I can't stand the boredom of endlessly counting milliseconds. "
final transcript
The body was extremely well preserved. The spacesuit ran out of oxygen and energy long ago, but it's airtight. Without any environment to degrade its body, it acts like a mummy, leaving behind a somewhat dry but identifiable corpse. I sent the drone to collect the body and put it in a room in the living area until I found a good place to bury him.
So if I'm the last survivor of humanity, it's time to find out why. I protected myself from attacks and cleared out any threats I could find to me and Ga
ymed every threat and then double check everything. It's time to talk to the ghost. I stopped the Gestalt process and the hologram suddenly came to life. Now, with the sensors all on, the Gestalt appears to be standing in the center of the landing pad.
"Hello, Dr. Jones," I said.
"I am the Gestalt of Dr. Stepan Jones. I am just an appearance, I am not him."
"I know. You said I was the only survivor of humanity. Why?"
"Earth has been destroyed. The city of Polemus on Mars has been destroyed, as has the new colony of Europa. There are no humans left alive."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. If I were alive, I would be overwhelmed with sadness, shock, and anger. In a way, I expected this answer. Maybe that's why I chose to cut off the Gestalt Tower when I did, to protect myself and Ga
ymed outpost as an excuse. I know what the answer is, which is why I didn't start over with the living area. But hearing it said out loud meant I couldn't pretend anymore. Humanity ceases to exist. We are already extinct.
"What have we done?!" I said out loud, mostly to myself.
"Sorry, my answer is limited. I'm just a gestalt."
"How do humans kill themselves?" I revised it.
"No suicide," Gestalt replied. "Suicide rates did rise significantly before the end of the world, but suicide did not end humanity."
"What happened then?" I asked the annoying Gestalt.
"Humanity is attacked by aliens."
I wanted to scream in frustration. "Okay, let's start at the beginning." Then, before he could say anything, I added: "Start with the aliens. I didn't even know they existed. When did they show up? What happened after that, Until the end of humanity?"
Apparently I found the right way to question the Gestalt. Specific enough for Gestalt to make a difference, but vague enough for me to get the answers I needed. Gestalt begins to speak.
"Aliens appeared about ten years ago. Six ships circled the Pacific without any warning. They sent out radio signals, we responded, and within a few weeks, we learned their language and we could talk .
"They call themselves the Orion Arms Trading Company, and they are here to negotiate trade in all of the rarest metals on Earth."
Finally, I had something concrete to do. The database I have available to me is huge and I can formulate queries for all kinds of information. I can always query to get the information, but the request has to be modified. General questions leave me clueless. Through the information provided by Gestalt, I can actually see topics that I already "know".
As he spoke, I asked about "Orion Arms Trading Company" and a flood of information flooded into my consciousness. A video of six giant spaceships slowly entering the atmosphere started playing next to my home screen. Each ship is a bit like a tree. There is a huge spherical cabin at the bottom of the ship. The engine cannot be seen, and a long pole extends upward for two hundred meters. Sticking out at regular intervals from the trunk are, for lack of a better word, branches. The branches are evenly paired, one branch on each side for load balancing. They spiral up the stem to the top. Each branch has a bulbous pod at the end that is flat on the outside, making it look like the branches would rotate in space to simulate any necessary gravity. It's a strange, but effective design. How they hold these things together under Earth's gravity is unclear, but it's an impressive feat of advanced technology and a triumph of design engineering.
"The negotiations are not going well. The aliens are belligerent and demanding and view us as inferior because we are not up to their level of technology. They want us to give up everything they ask for and sign exclusive trade rights with them, Give up any mining rights to our own asteroid belt in exchange for a small shipment of gadgets and the "privilege" of purchasing manufactured goods from them in the future. Negotiations broke down and governments on Earth began to feel threatened. The French government was the first Tell Orion Arms Trading Company to leave Earth."
I downloaded another video, this one titled "Breaking Report: Trade Talks Ended." Here is a brief news clip of a Chinese commentator discussing the breakdown of negotiations, followed by a clip of the negotiations.
"We don't believe oats is operating with integrity," one man said in French. A Chinese voiceover repeated his words. "The French government will withdraw from these talks. Furthermore, given the potential threat to NATO, we are invoking Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty and calling on NATO members to prepare for mutual defense."
The alien in the room was unremarkable. It was somewhat human-like, with two legs and two arms, but its proportions were decidedly non-human. Its skin is dark red, its limbs are thick and long, and there is an extra joint on each leg. The alien's triangular head is flat with a point at the chin, two dark eyes and a thick mouth, but no nose.
"We only seek help in bringing modern technology to the minorities of your planet in exchange for a pittance of metal. Why do you continue to complain about the inevitable? Tell this to your government. 'When a friend's branch dies, you must bring It's pruned or the branches will damage their tree.' "
The video ends with shouts coming from all directions, with the alien standing at the center of the chaos. There's a smug look on its face that's clearly readable despite how inhuman it is. The video reached the hands of a Chinese commentator, who began discussing the turn of events in detail. I turned my attention back to the Gestalt.
"One of the ships left for a few days and then came back. Shortly after its return, a meteorite struck Paris. The impact destroyed the city and most of the surrounding towns. The aliens immediately sent out a request for A new round of negotiations begins. Retaliation occurs immediately; nuclear weapons are used and the alien spacecraft is destroyed."
Life is the same as always, but now we have to keep our eyes on the sky with vigilance. Six years later, the planet killer was discovered. They discovered three identical asteroids that would hit Earth, Mars and Europa at the same time. They are all too large to deflect or destroy. Impacts on Mars and Europa are even planned to hit their colonies head-on, since they are isolated from their environment. This was a deliberate strike, a planned genocide of an entire species. "
I knew it was coming, but it was still a shock to hear it. My inquiries are now almost automatic, extracting information and verifying everything the Gestalt says. It was worse than he said. The Earth was struck by a 16-kilometer-wide asteroid, right in the oil fields of Saudi Arabia. It hit oil-rich rock and instantly ignited it, injecting billions of tons of soot into the atmosphere and triggering global cooling almost immediately. The impact triggered volcanic eruptions in the Indian Ocean, further increasing debris in the air. The shock waves triggered earthquakes and tsunamis that killed billions of people. Then an undiscovered asteroid hits Mexico. Even more people died and the aftermath made everything worse. Those who survived then starved to death, while those who found food froze or suffocated to death from the poisonous air. The Earth is too cold to support life. We were murdered over a trade dispute.
I have one last thing to ask the Gestalt Tower before I close it.
"How do I get involved? What should I be? I started working on it long before Ultra C came along. "
Gestalt smiled sadly, looking as if it could actually think for itself for a moment. Ga
The ymed project was started by a charismatic billionaire who convinced other billionaires to invest their wealth in the future. They want to Ga
The ymed asteroid becomes a generational colony ship, a mobile habitat that can travel across the stars to find a new home for humanity. But the project wasn't complete when the aliens arrived, and when the planet killer was discovered, it was hijacked as a last resort for the rich and powerful to take their families. "
"But that didn't happen," I continued, the pieces falling into place. "The Nikola-19 doesn't have enough time to complete it. I assume this shipment should include supplies to last until completion?"
"That's right. Ga
The ymed Foundation shipped a complete seed bank and all possible genetic material. They launched their last rocket days early with the last few parts they could cobble together, including a neocortex containing you, to replace the Nikola-19. "
"Why am I special?" Why did you choose me to do this?"
"Sorry, my answer is limited. I'm just a gestalt."
"Of course you are," I said. As Dr. Stepan Jones rides the final rocket away from the destruction of humanity, the end of humanity is always on his mind. He watches his world die as he rides safely to the desolate sanctuary of this uninhabited project. But safety is an illusion, for the refuge is incomplete and he is alone. These heavy thoughts weighed heavily on his mind as he made the Gestalt Tower.
This unthinking ghost was no longer useful, so I turned it off. I'm glad the ghost can't think for himself because this guy has suffered enough. He did his job, left me with the information I needed, and more importantly, gave me some context for the work so I could understand what I was getting into. I was a cobbled together, last ditch effort done in secrecy and with little to no planning.
If I understood what Gestalt was telling me, I would have been on Earth working with Dr. Jones and participating in this final effort. There must be a good reason why I was put here instead of using the more advanced Nikola-19. The purpose is still vague to me, but at this point, it doesn't really matter that much. I've been here, I have goals, but I don't have any plans.
"Stop! Stop now!" I shouted, grabbing my daughter's arm. She was thirteen, almost as old as me, and she was fighting with her cousin. To be more precise, she easily won a fist fight with her cousin who was twice her size.
I was so surprised that I had to pull her away from him; she was the more bookish of the twins. Her adventurous sister stood aside, glaring angrily at her cousin and making no move to help me break up the fight.
My useless sister-in-law came over, grabbed her son's ears and twisted him.
"Boy, get over here. I don't want to hear your nonsense today."
I watched in disbelief as she dragged him away, scolding him for fighting, but making no effort to find out why the kids were fighting. My daughter deflated in my arms. I know she realizes she's going to get in trouble for what she did. I let her go and she turned to me, tears starting to well up in her eyes.
"I'm so, so sorry," she started, but her sister interrupted her with a hug.
"Forget it," she said. "You're so fierce!" You're the best, sissy. "
"Uh-huh," I cleared my throat to get their attention. "Can you explain what's going on?"
One daughter cried silently, slowly opening and closing her hands as she watched her bloody knuckles. I can already tell they're starting to swell. She didn't back down. The other looked back at me disdainfully, ready to protect her sister.
"She didn't start it, it was him. He kept badmouthing Mom. And then he suggested..." She stopped, holding back her anger and disgust. "...He said some more horrible things and if she didn't hit him I was going to hit him and if he said it again I was going to kick his ass this time."
"Language," I chided. "What did he say?"
"Nasty stuff, saying how bad you and mom are, what we do at home, saying there's nothing wrong with our family. He's living in a trailer and..."
I raised my hand to interrupt her. I actually feel angry for them, having to listen to them say that, and it's hard being a parent right now. "You're protecting your family. I get it. But is violence the only way to solve a problem?"
The girls looked at each other and communicated in silence for a long minute. How they could talk without saying a word was downright creepy. They had always been close; they were born two minutes apart, in the same crib as babies, in the same room as little ones.
"Probably not," came the somber reply. At that moment, I wasn't sure which of the twins' answers was, but I knew it was the answer for both of them.
"I won't yell for the fight this time. Next time, find a better way."
They couldn't hide their relief when I led them inside to find a bag of ice for my little slugger, and I couldn't hide my snickering when I heard the whispers between them.
"Next time, use bricks."
I spent the next few days brooding. I feel as though I've been reacting, so to speak, desperately trying to find my feet since I woke up. Last-minute plans to turn Ganymede into a refuge were hopeless. Without an atmosphere, there's no way to carry enough fuel over several rocket flights, and if it were here, there'd be no place to put it. Any form of food supply will be insufficient and disappear before any form of food production can actually produce food. I could list a thousand ways to bring about a quick death for a small group of refugees without any chance of them surviving. I'm glad the last rocket was bought, giving me more resources. But I'm still missing a lot of things.
First, I started listing the strategic and logistical obstacles that lay before me. Looking inside myself told me a lot. First, many of the server nodes I still use are decades overdue for replacement. The latest nodes, including the cortical modules crucial to my existence, are nearly a decade old by now. The depowered cortex containing Nikola-19 is original to this project and is now more than 80 years old. Many nodes are also original, or were early add-ons, many of which failed. It's a testament to engineering that they lasted as long as they did.
I have no way to make or replace circuit boards, delicate electronics, data storage units, or new cortical nodes. I also can't build a controller unit for the drone, nor do I have extra units. I can't make new pulse engines, or graphene batteries to power them. Maintenance, basic wear and tear, and accidents have left dozens of drones damaged beyond repair. To make matters worse, not all drones use the same controller design and sensor suite, further complicating repairs.
Finally, the production facilities that I do have were designed and expanded over decades to have a special approach to the location of materials. The earliest refineries were crude and outdated, and their waste was reprocessed by newer refineries to avoid waste. Space is at a premium, and there's no efficient way to get more of it. Countless winding mining tunnels mean drones have to waste energy transporting materials, which further increases the likelihood of collapse, resulting in irreplaceable drone loss.
But I do have some things working in my favor. First, I have a large amount of material that has been harvested and preserved for future use. I have a huge stockpile of ingredients just waiting to be used. I have significant computing power, a rich archive of data to draw from, and my own experience in robotics design to create the tools I need if what I already have isn't enough.
I also have enough power at hand. There are two complete fusion power grids that have been built for my use and currently provide far more power than I need. I also have hundreds of fusion devices stored away, and hundreds of dismantled rocket fuselages at my disposal. Unfortunately, a large number of pulse drives have also been taken apart, often with brute force, to clear the way for future shipping.
Finally, I have time. I have no deadlines, no one depends on me, and no one knows I'm here. I can take the time to get things organized, set up and prepared, and execute my plans when I'm ready, once I've made them.
To be successful, I first had to become truly self-sufficient. Of course, if this giant asteroid of metals and silicates is to become a power-generating ship, self-sufficiency has always been an end goal. But without the planet's resources, this shift toward self-sufficiency will require some drastic redesign.
I need efficient production, shipping and assembly lines. I need to be able to build basic machines so I can build new assembly lines that will produce better technology to produce the advanced materials and parts I need. But to do all this, I need space. in Ga
In the center of ymed, I was trapped in my relatively spacious space.
I could move to the ground, but then I would have to face the difficulty of working in a vacuum. Most of my drones won't operate there as currently designed. I will have to deal with radiation damage to critical components, meteorite and micrometeorite collisions, and dealing with waste heat. If the drones run out of battery, I also deal with them not staying warm enough to restart after charging because electronics hate being too cold. But most importantly, in my mind, being on the surface means that if or when aliens come back, they can detect my presence. As far as I know, they were already mining this asteroid field, and now they're murdering the rightful owners.
So all that's left is how to dig the hole. Nikola 19 solved this problem by ejecting waste and slag into space, creating a cloud of waste that dragged it to the asteroid belt. It's slow and laborious, but ultimately, I can't do anything different.
But what I could do differently was rethink design. I'm at the center of the asteroid, so there's actually no gravity. The lack of gravity means I have to rely on drones with thrust drives or arms to propel them. On the surface, Ga
The mass of ymed is below, and the gravity is only a very small 0.00089 m/s^2, which is less than 1/100 of the normal gravity of the earth. But I don't need Earth's normal gravity. I just need something I can use.
Initial plans for a power-generating ship that was constantly accelerating or decelerating would rely on linear gravity to provide its inhabitants with the gravity they needed. If I gave up the idea of turning asteroids into spaceships, I could think of centrifugal force as gravity. The asteroid rotates for more than 10 hours, so if I stay below the surface, I can rely on the asteroid's rotation. I calculated that if I stayed at least 400 meters below the surface, I would experience a gravitational force of about 1/5 G, which is greater than the Earth's moon. This gives me the added benefit that I still maintain a very thick layer of protection from anything that might hit the surface and I can go back to the tried and tested method of propelling my drone with wheels , driving upside down under the water. This idea makes me happy.
But if I want to ensure future protection, I need to stop relying on building caves. I needed solid steel floors and walls to withstand future problems. That's not a problem, really; I'm on an asteroid that has more iron than anything else. I just have to accept it.
This brings me back to the issue of scale. My largest drone was built and shipped on the newest and largest rocket available. They have to fit into a rocket eight meters in diameter, they have to share space with other drones, other materials, and they have to withstand launch without destroying the payload. None are bigger than six meters wide and I want to open up new refineries, factories, assembly lines and warehouses. I need as much space as I have now, if not more. I had to make everything bigger.
I redeployed my drone. I left the mining drones that mined the discovered veins but pulled the rest back, leaving them to mine a new area. This new space is above the fusion reactor cave, allowing me to easily drill down to connect to the grid and connect to the main entrance shaft to my base. But now I’m digging for space, not material. Unless the drones find a lot of material worth refining, most of what they dig up will be dumped directly into the vacuum.
While they were working, I threw myself into designing my first large, heavy-duty mining drone. I had to build it with what I had on hand and customize the controller code based on the new design parameters. I spent several days running this machine through modeling and testing.
By the time I was ready to build, my drone had dug out a 50 cubic meter space. I was throwing tons of material out and my production equipment was running at maximum capacity to keep up with the influx of material.
I withdrew the mining drones and sent out the construction drones. I have my steel factory producing thick steel support beams and lattice cores, and my repair drones assembling crude plasma cutters. Additionally, thick basic copper wire and a heavy iron drill bit were added. The materials were sent to the new space, which was the only place I had big enough to assemble my new drone.
Slowly, over the course of several days, the 20-meter-long drone began to take shape. The steel shell supports the plasma cutter and drill bit. It rests on giant steel treads, with slits cut into the wall allowing chunks of material to pass through on a conveyor belt and dumped behind the drone for collection. Arms along the housing help the material move. Inside the shell is a fusion reactor, sensors and a controller unit taken from a broken drone and modified with my new program.
The new miners are big, ugly and rude. It requires a dozen drones to fuel the reactor and replace drill bits when they become dull, and dozens more to sort through the tons of material it tears apart. But it can mine the precious space I need ten times faster than a small mining drone. Yes, it's ugly and bulky. But it's a good start.
