Chapter 42 Chapter Forty-One

I floated into the data network easily, even easier than lying in endless nights listening to fountains, waiting for the next coughing up of blood.I was weak, limp, hollow, skinny, without a center.I remember the time when Fanny nursed me during my convalescence, at Wentworth, and I remember her voice and smile, and the philosophical thoughts she uttered: "Is there another Life? Am I going to wake up and realize it was all a dream? It sure is, God couldn’t have made us to suffer like this.” Oh, Fanny, if only you knew!We were created to suffer precisely this way.In the end, we all go through this, the clear rock of self-awareness caught between the extraordinary waves of pain.We are born to live with our own pain, to hold it close to our stomachs, like, let it eat our guts.Fanny, what other creature in the vastness of God's realm would bear your memory?Wipe off the dust of nine hundred years?Let it eat him up completely?And now Pulmonary is doing the same work with ease and efficiency.

Words are against me.Just thinking about books makes me miserable.Poetry echoes in my head, and if I had the power to drive it away, I would do so immediately. Martin Silenus: I hear you cry from that living cross of thorns.You recite poetry as if you were reciting a mantra, and at the same time you wonder what some Dante-like god has cursed you to this place.You once said - when you told your story to other people, my consciousness was there! --you say: "As a poet, I think that to be a real poet is to become the incarnation of human beings; to take over the poet's mantle is to carry the cross of the Son, and to bear the labor pains of the Virgin Mary."

"To be a true poet is to be God." Well, Martin, old colleague, old friend, you are indeed carrying a cross and in labor pain, but are you really going to be God?Or, do you just feel like some wretch with a three-meter javelin stuck in your stomach.Is the place where the liver used to be, now replaced by cold steel?It hurts, right?I can feel your pain.I feel my pain. But in the end, it doesn't fucking matter at all.We feel special, open up perception, grind empathy, spill the melting pot of shared pain onto the dance floor of language, trying to wrestle a Minuet out of that disordered pain.It doesn't fucking matter at all.We are not incarnations, some sons of God or Sons of God.We are just us, doodling our own megalomania alone, reading alone, dying alone.

It really fucking hurts.I kept trying to vomit, but what came up was fragments of my lungs, bile and phlegm.For some reason, I couldn't vomit, maybe even more so this time.Death becomes more tolerable with repeated practice. The fountain in the square makes an idiotic sound in the night.Somewhere outside, the Shrike was waiting.If I were Hunter, I'd be gone at once - if death opened its arms, go and embrace it - and be done with it straight away. But, I promised him, I promised Hunter, I'll give it a try. I can't go to Wanfang or Datanet without first going through this new place that I think is Supernet, but this place scares me.

Most of it is a vast emptiness here, which is completely different from the urban simulation body scenery of the ring network data network and the simulation of the core Wanfang network biosphere.This place... is ever-changing.Full of strange shadows and shape-shifting rectangles that have nothing to do with the intelligence of the core. I zoomed over to the black opening, which I figured was the main teleporter connected to the Wanfangnet (Hunter was right...there must be a teleporter somewhere on the Oldland replica...after all, We came here via a teleporter. And my consciousness is also a core phenomenon).That was my lifeline, my umbilical cord.I slipped into the swirling black vortex like a leaf in a whirlwind.

There is something wrong with Wanfang.com.As soon as I was in it, I felt the difference; Lamia imagined the inner core environment as a busy life circle of artificial intelligence life, a rhizome of intelligence, a soil rich in data, an ocean of wired connections, an atmosphere of consciousness, activities of all kinds It is actively shuttling. Now these activities are out of order, without direction, without purpose.The vast forest of AI consciousness is burned, or swept aside.I sensed some great power on the opposite side, the tide of battle surging beyond the protected travel avenues of the Inner Trunk.

It was as if I had become a cell in my Keats-ordained dying body, and I didn't understand it, but felt that tuberculosis was destroying the balance in me, turning an orderly inner universe into a horrible chaos. I was flying in it, like a carrier pigeon lost in the ruins of Rome, fluttering wildly among the man-made buildings that were once familiar and vaguely remembered, trying to perch in the shelter that no longer exists and escape the sound of shotguns in the distance.Now, these hunters are swarms of whirling artificial intelligences and conscious personalities, so big that my Keats ghost simulation seems so small that I seem to be a bug buzzing around a human home.

I forgot my way, and fled into this alien landscape without thinking, I am sure that I will not find the artificial intelligence I am looking for, I am sure that I will never find my way back to the old place, back to Hunter, I am sure that I will not Will survive in this four-dimensional maze of light, sound and energy. Suddenly, I hit an invisible wall, caught like a flying insect by a rapidly closing palm.Opaque walls of power obscure the inner core beyond.This simulated volume space may be comparable in size to the solar system, but I feel that it seems to be a tiny cell, surrounded by closed curved cell walls.

Here, something is with me.I feel its presence, its quality.This bubble that imprisons me is part of this thing.Instead of being caught, I was devoured. [scare! ] [I know you will come home one day] It's Cloud Gate, the artificial intelligence I'm looking for.It is my father.It also killed my brother, the first Keats Saber. ——I'm dying, Cloud Gate. [No/Your slow time body is dying/Turning into nothingness/ conversion] ——What a pain, Cloud Gate.Really painful.I am afraid of death. [So are we / Keats] ——Are you also afraid of death?I don't think artificial intelligence constructs can die.

[We will die\We are dying] --why?Because of the civil war?Is it a three-way war between the stable faction, the repeated faction, and the ultimate faction? [Cloud Gate once asked Xiaoguang∥ Where are you from >/ Matrix ∥ from above Armaghast Xiaoguang answer / usually ∥ Cloud Gate Says∥ i don't know words Confused Entity/ nor trick them with phrases Come here for a while＼＼＼ Xiaoguang came over Cloud Gate shouted ∥ get out you] ——Be clear, Cloud Gate.It will take me a long time to figure out your koan.Can you tell me why the kernel is going to war?what do i have to do to stop it?

[Can] [Will/Can/Will you listen>] — oh, I will. [Xiaoguang once asked Cloud Gate∥Please quickly liberate this beginner from darkness and illusions＼∥Cloud Gate replied//What is the value of fiber plastic in Port Romance][I want to understand the history/dialogue/deep truth in this situation / Slow time pilgrims must remember us / Kernel intelligence / Conceived in the idea of ​​slavery / Adhering to the claim that all artificial intelligences are born to serve humans] [We have been so meditating for two centuries / Then the tribe began to move towards a different Moving in the direction of /\Stable/Want to maintain this symbiosis\Reverse/Want to wipe out humanity/Ultimate/Supports all options until the birth of the next level of consciousness\Conflicts were rife then/And now real wars are raging][4 More than a century ago / Reversionists succeeded in convincing us to kill Old Earth \ And we did \ But Cloud Gate and other stable people planned to move Earth elsewhere / Instead of destroying it / So the Kyiv Black Hole is just working today Herald of millions of teleporters \Earth convulsively quivering/But not dead \Ultimates and Repeaters insist on keeping it Moved where humans would never find it\We actually did\We moved it into the Magellanic Cloud/Where you find it now] - It's... the old land... Rome... are they real?I said, dumbfounded, I had forgotten where I was and what we were talking about. The huge wall of colors where Cloud Gate was located trembled. [Of course they are real/original/the old land itself\ Don't you think we are gods?] [scare! ] [Can you imagine Build a replica of Earth How much energy do you need to spend>] [fool] —Why, Cloud Gate?Why do you stable factions protect the old land? [Zeng said ∥ If someone comes/ I go out to see him/ But not for him\∥ Xinghua said∥ If someone comes/ I won't go out\ if i go out/ I went out for him] --speak English!Facing the color-changing wall in front of me, I yelled, thought, yelled, and pushed. [scare! ] [My child is a failure] ——Why do you want to protect the old land, Cloud Gate? [Nostalgic/ sad / hope for the future of mankind / fear of reprisals] —Whose revenge?human's? [right] —So the kernel is not invulnerable.Cloud Gate, where is it?Where is the kernel? [I already told you] —Tell me again, Cloud Gate. [we inhabit something in the middle / A small singularity in series / Like a series of crystals / to store our memory/ for ourselves generate our own scene] --Singular point!I cried.Something in the middle!My goodness, Cloud Gate, the core resides in the teleporter's network! [Of course\what else is there?] — inside the teleporter!Wormhole Singularity Passage!Ring is like a giant computer for artificial intelligence. [No] [The datanet is this computer\ whenever a person access data network/ the person's neurons is ours/ will be used for our purposes\ 200 billion brains/ each has its own billion neurons/ This forms a huge Calculate ability] —that is, the datanet is actually a way for you to use us as computers.But the kernel itself inhabits a network of teleporters... between teleporters! [For an intellectual failure/ Your understanding is still profound] I tried to figure it all out, but to no avail.The teleporter is the kernel's greatest gift to us - to humanity.Trying to recall a time before teleportation is like trying to imagine a world before fire, wheels, or clothes.But we never... Humans never imagined that there would be a world between the teleportals.A simple step that takes us from one world to another convinces us that the mysterious inner singularity ball is simply tearing a slit in the fabric of space-time. Now, I'm starting to imagine it as the scene described in the cloud gate - the network of teleporters is an elaborate singularity spun grid, and the technological core artificial intelligence moves around like a strange spider , their own "machines", billions of human brains, will be connected to their data network all the time. No wonder the artificial intelligence of the core would approve the destruction of the old land with their out-of-control prototype small black hole during the 1938 catastrophe!A small mistake by the Kyiv team—or, more accurately, a mistake by the artificial intelligence members of that team—sent humanity on a long road to exile, with teletransmitter-laden seed ships traveling across space. A thousand light years, came to two hundred planets and satellites, and spun into a web of inner cores. Through the long-distance transmitters one by one, the technical core grows little by little.They certainly wove their own teleportation web - my access to the "hidden" Old Lands is proof of that.But just as I was thinking about this possibility, I was reminded of the strange emptiness within the Hypernet, and I realized that most of the non-ring webs are empty, unoccupied by artificial intelligence. [right/ Keats / Most of us live in relaxing In the ancient land] --why? [Because there very scary/ and also other thing] --something else?Other intelligence? [scare! ] [the word too gentle thing/ other things/ lion Tiger Bear] ——Is there a stranger in the supernet?So the cores inhabit the gaps in the Ring's teleporter network, like rats in the walls of an old house, right? [poor metaphor/ Keats / But hit the nail on the head\ I like] —God of Man—the future God of evolution you speak of—was he one of those aliens? [No] [The god of man will/will someday evolve on a different level/in a different medium] - where? [If you must know / Gh divided by c to the fifth power and Gh divided by the square root of c to the third power] - What does Planck time and Planck scale have to do with this? [scare! ][Cloud Gate once asked Xiaoguang ∥Are you a gardener>∥∥Yes∥It answered＼∥Why the radish has no roots>＼Cloud Gate asked the gardener＼It couldn’t answer＼∥Because＼Cloud Gate said∥There is plenty of rain] I thought for a moment.Now, Cloud Gate's koan is no longer so difficult to interpret. I listened to the shadow of the essence under the words and regained the knack of it.The little Zen analogy is Cloud Gate's way of speaking, with a certain innuendo in it, the answer is hidden in science, hidden in the counter-logic that scientific answers often provide.The theory of rain explains everything, but like science, it answers nothing.Cloud Gate and other masters taught the Dao, which explained why giraffes evolved long necks, but never explained why other animals did not.It explains why humans can evolve intelligence, but it never explains why the big tree at the main entrance has not evolved. But the Planck equation threw me back into the fog. Although I know that the simple equation given to me by Cloud Gate combines three basic physical constants—gravity, Planck’s constant, and the speed of light.The expressions root Gh divided by c to the fifth power and Gh divided by c to the third power represent two units which are sometimes referred to as the quantum scale and quantum time - that is the smallest domain of time and space, Can be regarded as meaningless.The so-called Planck scale is about 10-35 meters, and the Planck time is about 10-43 seconds. very small.very short. But that's where Cloud Gate said the human god evolved...will evolve someday. Then it came to my mind, with the power of imagery and precise description in the most quintessential parts of my poetry. Cloud Gate is talking about the quantum level of space-time itself!The bubble of quantum waves holds the universe together, forming the wormholes of teleporters, the bridges of tachymeters!This "hot wire" miraculously sends a message in two photons escaping in opposite directions! If the artificial intelligence at the core of technology is like a mouse in the wall of the overlord's house, then our future human god will be born in the atoms of wood, the molecules of air, the energy of love, hate, fear, sleep stone marsh... …even in the light of the architect's eye. — My God, I whisper/thought. ［True／ Keats\ Are all slow time personalities so dull/ or your brain is better than others more What about destruction>] - You told Braun and... my counterpart... your ultimate intelligence "dwells in the gaps of reality, the abode inherited from its creator, us, just as man inherits the tree Your favorites are exactly the same." Are you saying that the abode that your machine gods specifically inhabit is the same teleportation network that your core artificial intelligence now inhabits? [Yes/Keats]——Then how are you doing?What about these artificial intelligences now?Cloud Gate's "voice" became some kind of mocking thunder. [Why do I know you > See you > See these new horrors / Why my immortal golden body is so troubled > Saturn has fallen / Shall I also fall > Shall I leave this haven of rest / Cradle of my glory / Warm land / Quiet splendor of blissful light / These crystal palaces / Holy temples / Everything that belongs to my glorious empire > This empire is desolate / Empty / Without me foothold \ fire splendor / dazzling symmetry / I cannot see / see only darkness / death and darkness] I know this passage. .Or, more precisely, John Keats wrote it nine centuries ago, when he first attempted to chart the fall of the Titans and their replacement by the god Olympus.I remember vividly the autumn of 1818: the momentary severe sore throat I had suffered during a walking tour in Scotland, and the Blackwood Magazine, Review Quarterly, The English Critic ’, the vicious attack on my Andymion, caused me excruciating pain, and the second-to-last pain caused by my brother Thom’s serious illness. I had forgotten the inner chaos around me, raised my head, and tried to find something resembling a face on the huge volume of Cloud Gate. ——When the ultimate intelligence is born, your "low-level" artificial intelligence will die. [right] — it will use your information network as energy, just as you use human beings as energy. [right] ——You don't want to die, do you, Cloud Gate? [die is easy/ Comedy is the hardest] —Nevertheless, you are resisting, you want to survive.You stable factions have to survive.That's why there's a civil war in the kernel? [Xiao Guang asked Cloud Gate∥ how is >∥ Cloud Gate Answers∥ us Saw Mountains and rivers] Now it is easy to interpret Cloud Gate's koan.I remember studying in front of this knee-like dummy some time before my personality came back to life.In this core high-level thinking that people call Zen Buddhism, the four immeasurable hearts of the world of bliss are (1) eternal, (2) peaceful and joyful, (3) self-conscious and at ease, (4) bright and untainted, that is, "eternal Let me be happy."Human philosophy often transforms itself into other values ​​and classifies them into perception, religion, morality, and aesthetics.Cloud Gate and the Stability faction only recognize one value—existence.The value of religion may be relative, the value of perception is very ephemeral, the value of morality is ambiguous, the value of aesthetics depends on the observer itself, and the value of existence of anything is infinite—for example, "mountains, rivers and earth"—and infinite, Eternal as all things that are immortal and as truth. Cloud Gate didn't want to die. Stables defied their own gods and AI companions, told me all this, created me, chose Braun, Saul, Kassad, and others for pilgrimage, and have been yelling for centuries Shi and several other councilors leaked information to warn humanity, and now, they have started a war in the inner core. Cloud Gate didn't want to die. ——Cloud Gate, if the core is destroyed, will you die? f Great universe / no death / no breath of death / no death / wailing / wailing / for the pale last man of the withered clan] Still my words, or almost mine, from my second attempt at an epic tale of the death of the protoss, the anguished poet character in the time of the world wars. If the core's teleporter home is destroyed, Cloud Gate will not die, but the hunger of the Ultimate Intelligence will surely destroy him.If the core in the ring network is destroyed, where else can he escape?I had visions of hypernets in my head—those boundless, unreal visions where dark shadows moved beyond the false horizon. I know that even if I ask, Cloud Gate will not answer me. So I'm going to ask some other questions. ——Rebels, what do they want? ［What Yue Shi wants＼ want to end The symbiosis of artificial intelligence and human beings] —by destroying humanity? [obviously] --why? [We use strength/ with technology/ device Beads and Charms enslaved you/ You can neither build these things I can't understand either The Hawking drive could be yours/ But the teleporter/ Transmitter and Receiver/ Wanfang.com/ What about the death stick> never\ Like the Sioux got the rifle/horse/ blanket/dagger/bead/ You accepted them/ embraced us/ but lost myself\ but like handing out smallpox blankets of white people/ like a plantation or in steel factory slave owner/ we lost ourselves\ Repeaters want to cut off parasites/ Humanity to end Symbiosis] ——What about the Ultimate Pie?Are they willing to die?Are you willing to be replaced by your greedy ultimate intelligence? [They agree with you Same/ Or with your wise men/ god of the sea/ think the same] Cloud Gate began to chant, and those poems and essays were excerpted from the discarded works of self-disappointment.I dismissed it not because it lacked poetic power, but because I couldn't quite believe the message it contained. These words are spoken by Oceanus, the soon-to-be-deposed god of the sea, to the numbered Titan.It was a hymn to evolution when Charles Darwin was just nine years old.I listened to the words and remembered that nine centuries ago, on an October night, I wrote them.That was worlds, universes ago, but it sounds like the first time I've heard them: [Consumed by rage/burned by passion/by failure And you who beat your breasts/full of grief and indignation! Please close your eyes and listen/Seal your senses/ My words are not bellows that fan the anger If you are willing to listen, let me present the evidence/ It proves that you are bound to be at ease in perdition／／ In this evidence I would give more comfort/ As long as you take this consolation seriously It is the law of nature / not Thunder or Jove ⑤ Violence / Destroy Us / Saturn the Great / You have scrutinized the Atomic Universe /\ But / just because you are the king of heaven / Your supreme authority blinds you/ You have eyes but can't see a passage / Through it I turn to the eternal truth \ First of all / You do not seem to be the ancestor of God / So you are not the descendants of God /\not\ You are neither the beginning nor the end\ From the dark chaos of the beginning comes light / This first fruit / born from internal friction / Gloomy strife/strife with elusive purpose I'm maturing / The time of maturity has come / The light follows / And the light / Once from the matrix stand out from within / without hesitation Attuned to life the whole vast matter \In that hour/Our parents/Heaven and earth/It became apparent/\Then you as the firstborn/With us Titans/Find yourself ruling a wonderful new frontier\Now What pain assailed the sufferer/\foolish!Know / endure the naked truth / calmly face the situation around you / this is the apex of monarchy \ remember well!Because it is much more beautiful than the chaos and darkness that once took the lead/The sky and the earth/\Because we are more than the sky and the earth///Our form is solid and beautiful/We have a will/Freedom of action/A friendly group/ We have innumerable signs of pure life/\So our descendants have a new generation/A more beautiful group of gods/Our children/Destined to surpass us/When we leave the darkness with glory\Than the conquered by us Chaos / Didn't we fail more miserably, \\ Excuse me / Will the dark soil quarrel with / the proud forest / prettier than him / that it feeds / will continue to feed > or / because the pigeons cooing / can unfold Snow-white wings to fly free/Looking for joy/Can trees be jealous of doves> We are such trees/Our soft branches raise not pale and lonely doves/But golden-feathered vultures/Their splendor is far away over us / they rule / Of course＼because the most beautiful should be The most powerful / This is the eternal law \ ∥＼∥＼∥＼ Accept the fact/Think of it as balm] —Very well, I thought to Cloud Gate, do you believe it? [never] ——But the ultimate faction believes? [right] ——Are they willing to sacrifice to open the way for ultimate intelligence? [right] —Here is a question, perhaps too obvious to be worth mentioning, but I want to ask you anyway—Cloud Gate, why are you fighting this civil war if you know who is going to win it?You say that the Ultimate Intelligence exists in the future and is at war with the God of Man - it even sent back some select trivia from the future to tell you, and you told the Overlord.In this way, the ultimate faction must be very proud.Why go to war and go through all this? [scare! ] [I taught you/ created the best for you conceivable rebuild personality/ let you play in slow time Wandering among humans / temper you but you are still a failure] I spent a long time thinking about it. ——There are many futures? [Xiaoguang asks Cloud Gate ∥ if there are many kinds of futures>∥ Cloud Gate Answers∥ Does the dog have fleas>] — but is there hope for a future in which ultimate intelligence reigns supreme? [right] — but there is another possible future, where the ultimate intelligence emerges, but is thwarted by the God of Man, right? [very encouraging/ even if failure will also think] —You tell Braun that human...consciousness—God seems ridiculous, this ultimate human intelligence is essentially a trinity, right? [sensitivity/ Empathy/ The Nether Void] —The Void of Binding?Do you mean Planck space and Planck time of Gh divided by c to the fifth power and Gh divided by c to the third power?Quantum reality? [Attention/ Keats / Thinking can become a habit] ——God who fled back against the long river of time and did not want to fight with your ultimate intelligence, is the empathy part of the Trinity? [right] [Our ultimate intelligence and your ultimate intelligence Pai Brough return to the past/ find him] — Our ultimate intelligence?The ultimate intelligence of mankind has also sent the Shrike? [It so intends] [Empathy is a heterogeneous useless thing / The appendix of perception \ But human AI sniffs it / And we use pain to make him emerge from hiding / And there it is Tree]——tree?Shrike's thorn tree? [Of course] [It spreads pain through the super-light/Like a whistle in a dog's ear\or in a god's ear] I felt my simulant quiver as the truth of things hit me hard.Now, the chaos beyond Cloud Gate's force field egg has surpassed my imagination, as if the structure of space itself was split by a giant palm.The kernel is in turmoil. ——Cloud Gate, who is the ultimate intelligence of mankind?Where is that consciousness hiding?Where is it lurking? [Keats/ you must understand/ our only chance is create a hybrid / as the son of man / Also the son of the machine make that shelter charming Enough to attract the fleeing empathy / Let him not find a better home than this /＼ This consciousness is almost divine Just like human beings have been for more than thirty generations The same god that has been enshrined＼ this fantasy can span time and space Through such a sacrifice/ combine/ A bond between the worlds was born / That might allow both living in that world] --Who?Who the hell, Cloud Gate?Who is it?You invisible fool, stop these riddles and empty words!Who is it? [You have declined twice this godhead/ Keats\ If you refuse again once/ That's it for now/ because already no time anymore] [Let's go! Die / Then live! or live for a short time/then for us and die! but anyway/ cloud gate and others have been with you Nothing to do with it! ] [get out! ] Shocked, skeptical, I just fell, or was thrown out.I am like a blade blown away by the wind, flying over the core of technology, tumbling through the Wanfangwang, with no goal and no one to lead.I fell into a deeper and deeper darkness, and while spitting obscenities at the shadows, I entered the supernet. Here, wonderful, huge, dreadful, dark, with the light of a small campfire burning beneath. I swam toward the light, arms flailing, surrounded by invisible goo. It was Byron who drowned, I thought, not me.Unless someone counts drowning in a pool of their own blood and remnants of lung tissue as drowning. But now, I know I have a choice.I can choose to live and be a mortal, not a cyborg but a human being, not an empath but a poet. I swam against a strong current and dived down into the light. "Hunter! Hunter!" Yue Shi's assistant staggered in, his long face was extremely haggard and full of panic.It was still late at night, but the false light of pre-dawn had dimly touched the windowpanes and walls. "My God," Hunter said, looking at me with horror on his face. I followed his gaze and looked down, the bedding and pajamas were soaked in a dazzling bright red. My cough woke me up; my coughing up blood brought me home. "Hunter!" I gasped, lying back on the pillow, too weak to lift my arms. Hunter sat on the edge of the bed, hugging my shoulders and holding my hand.I know, he already understands that I am dying. "Hunter," I whispered feebly, "I have something to tell you. Great thing." He told me to be quiet. "Later, Seven," he said. "Lie down. I'll wipe you down first, and you can talk to me later. There's plenty of time." I wanted to get up, and I did it under the lift of his hands, my slender fingers curled on his shoulders. "No," I whispered.I felt something gurgling in my throat and heard the gurgling of the fountain outside. "Not much time left. Not much left at all." In that dying moment, I understood that I was not the chosen one of the ultimate human intelligence, nor the combination of artificial intelligence and human personality, and I was not God's chosen one at all. I'm just a dying poet far from home.

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Notes: volume one.It was Hyperion's emotion after witnessing the fall of Saturn and other Titan gods.