John Wright - The Golden Transcendence

Atkins said: "One of. my sparring partners. A training-exercise routine."

"Programmed to lose?"

"Not really. But I had only given it ancient weapons and techniques, dating from the early Sixth and late Fifth Era. In other words, weapon systems the Silent Ones knew we had. So it lost. Only when Ao Varmatyr was convinced that he was in complete control did he show his true colors, and start ordering the Phoenix Exultant into a military posture."

Phaethon spoke up. "I suspect that even Ao Varmatyr himself did not know, until he did it, what he was going to do with the Phoenix Exultant when he achieved control of her. Using her as a warship to strike a deadly blow against the Golden Oecumene was not, I think, what he would have done had he believed his own tale. I can only conclude the decision to kill came from the Nothing Mastermind; perhaps some buried command overrode his normal judgment and conscience."

Atkins said, "I disagree. Ao Varmatyr had nothing but violence in mind from the first. Why else was he so tricky? He pretended to be Xenophon as long as he could, and then stayed quiet until I found him hiding."

Phaethon nodded. But there was a thoughtful, perhaps wistful, look on his features.

Atkins, seeing that look, said, "You believed him, didn't you? You would have gone with him, had it been you, and not me, being you, wouldn't you?" Phaethon said "Perhaps" in a tone of voice that meant certainly yes. "I wasn't sure-I am still not sure-how much of what Ao Varmatyr said was a lie. But there may be people to rescue at Cygnus X-l, people of a spirit like my own, and there may be great deeds to do there. It might have been worth the risk to go, just in case he was telling the truth."

Atkins said, "Then I'm just glad it was me who was you, and not you. Otherwise, Ao Varmatyr might have convinced you."

Phaethon said reluctantly, "No. His story was a lie."

Diomedes leaned forward, and said, "But Ao Var-matyr believed his own story."

"What?"

"The tale, at least to him, was true. What few of his thoughts I could understand made that clear. I suspect the Silent Oecumene did have her downfall in just the way he described, and that the people there, good Phaethon, were, perhaps once, not unlike you." Phaethon said, "I would like to believe that-I would like it very much. But at least part of the tale was a lie." Diomedes said, "How so?" "The relationship between the Sophotechs and the men as depicted in that tale made no sense. How could they be hostile to each other?"

Diomedes said, "Aren't men right to fear machines which can perform all tasks men can do, artistic, intel-lectual, technical, a thousand or a million times better than they can do? Men become redundant." Phaethon shook his head, a look of distant distaste on his features, as if he were once again confronted with a falsehood that would not die no matter how of-ten it was denounced. In a voice of painstaking pa-tience, he said: "Efficiency does not harm the inefficient. Quite the opposite. That is simply not the way it works, Take me. for example. Look around: I employed par-tials to do the thought-box junction spotting when I built this ship. My employees were not as skilled as I was in junction spotting. It took them three hours to do the robopsychology checks and hierarchy links I could have done in one hour. But they were in no danger of competition from me. My time is too valuable. In that same hour it would have taken me to spot their thought-box junction, I can earn far more than their three-hour wages by writing supervision architecture thought flows. And it's the same with me and the Sophotechs.

"Any midlevel Sophotech could have written in one second the architecture it takes me, even with my implants, an hour to compose. But if, in that same one second of time, that Sophotech can produce something more valuable-exploring the depth of abstract mathematics, or inventing a new scientific miracle, anything at all (provided that it will earn more in that second than I earn in an hour)-then the competition is not making me redundant. The Sophotech still needs me and receives the benefit of my labor. Since I am going to get the benefit of every new invention and new miracle put out on the market, I want to free up as many of those seconds of Sophotech time as my humble labor can do.

"And I get the lion's share of the benefit from the swap. I only save him a second of time; he creates wonder upon wonder for me. No matter what my fear of or distaste for Sophotechs, the forces in the marketplace, our need for each other, draw us together.

"So you see why I say that not a thing the Silent One said about Sophotechs made sense. I do not understand how they could have afforded to hate each other. Machines don't make us redundant; they increase our efficiency in every way. And the bids of workers eager to compete for Sophotech time creates a market for merely human work, which it would not be efficient for Sophotechs to underbid."

Diomedes spoke in a distant, haunted voice: "But, friend, I have been inside the Silent One's mind, and you have not. You did not see his memories of luxury and splendor.... They were the Lords of the Second Oecumene, the masters of the singularity fountains! They did not work. They did not compete. They did not bid, or buy. They did not have markets, or money. The only thing of value to them was their reputation, their artistic verve, their wit, their whimsy, and the calm dignity with which they welcomed their inevitable fall in darkened coffins into the blood red supergravity well of their dark star."

There was silence around the table for a time.

More sand fell through the glass.

Diomedes said, "It's odd. Their society was not un-like our own. A peaceful Utopia, but, unlike ours, one without laws, or money. What strange, incomprehensible force of fate or chance or chaos ordained her downfall?"

Atkins snorted. "It seems strange only if you believe that garbage Ao Varmatyr believed. His society was not set up the way he thought it was. No society could be."

Diomedes looked surprised. "And by what psychic intuition do you know this?"

"Its obvious. That society could not exist," said Atkins.

"Nor will it ever," added Phaethon.

The two men exchanged smiling glances.

"We are thinking of the same thing, aren't we?" said Atkins, nodding.

"Of course!" said Phaethon.

The two men spoke at once:

"They certainly had laws," said Atkins.

They certainly had money," said Phaethon.

The two men exchanged puzzled glances.

Atikins nodded. "You first."

Phaethon said, "No civilization can exist without money. Even one in which energy is as cheap and free as air on Earth, would still have some needs and desires which some people can fulfill better than others. An entertainment industry, if nothing else. Whatever efforts-if any-these productive people make, above and beyond that which their own idle pastimes incline them to make, will be motivated by gifts or barter bestowed by others eager for their services. Whatever barter keeps its value best over time stays in demand, and is portable, recognizable, divisible, will become their money. No matter what they call it, no matter what form it takes, whether cowry shells or gold or grams of antimatter, it will be money. Even Sophotechs use standardized computer seconds to prioritize distributions of system resources among themselves. As long as men value each other, admire each other, need each other, there will be money."

Diomedes said, "And if all men live in isolation? Surrounded by nothing but computer-generated dreams, pleasant fictions, and flatteries? And their every desire is satisfied by electronic illusions which create in their brains the sensations of satisfaction without the substance? What need have men to value other men then?"

"Men who value their own lives would not live that way."