John Wright - The Golden Transcendence

It was Transcendence.

It was, at once, aware of its own ultimately simple and infinitely complex awareness; mind and over-minds of every level, subtle and swift and certain; woven to find higher levels of awareness; minds made up not of individual thoughts but of individual minds; and overminds combining in whole groups to create higher mental structures yet. The Transcendence was a Mind as wide as the Solar System, as swift as light, as happy as a newborn child, as wise and cold as the most venerable judge, and it stirred and woke and wondered what had happened since the last time it had blinked awake, a thousand years gone past, as men count years.

It was, at once, aware of its own myriad memories of each individual of whom it was composed, of every second and split second of their many lives, running back to the last momentary Transcendence. Their every thought, conscious and subconscious, was laid bare, and the tapestry of thought was seen, at once, from every angle and perspective, both from the point of view of each thread and little section, but also seen, entirely, from within, and without, as a whole, contemplating itself, herself, himself, themselves.

The part of the Transcendence that was Phaethon was aware that he was dying. The part that had been the Nothing Machine was aware that it had died. The part that was Daphne was aware that she was going to die. They were all aware of a greater awareness, simple, yet complex.

They were aware of wonderful things:

First, of themselves; second, of awareness itself, and its straggle to become more aware; third, of its own nature; fourth, that the moment of Transcendence, once passed, would be remembered differently hereafter, by each of its participants, even though, ultimately, only one bright perfect expression of thought (ultimately simple, infinitely complex) was all that had to be expressed to recall and to express what Transcendence was.

The Transcendence knew that it had only a moment (or was it many months?) in which to act, a mere split second of the cosmic time, to think that thought, to express that expression. The expression attempted oneness, even though there were myriads of thoughts of which it was composed, an endless regression; attempted, failed, smiled, and ended. But before it ended, the Transcendence was aware:

First, the parts of the Transcendence were aware of themselves.

The part of the Transcendence that was Phaethon was surprised to find himself here, surrounded by thought, a note of fire in the symphony of light. How? The perfect awareness of the superawareness knew, even at that same moment-yet it had happened months upon months ago; the Phoenix Exultant "now" was at dock at Io, Circumjovial Station, repairs complete, hull integrity restored, ready to fly; during the many months that had passed while the Transcendence was thinking, the various bodies and people participating had gone through whatever puppet motions were needed to sustain and continue their lives and efforts, the same way the tiny, busy animals that live in the bloodstream play out their parts in the life of a man (or was this all a projection, something extrapolated to occur . . . ?)- even at that same moment when the acceleration shock had crushed Phaethon and damaged his internal organs, through the thought ports of his armor (still open) contacting the thought-ports of this ship (still jammed open) the Transcendence had entered the ship mind; entered Phaethon's armor with its magnificent brain; entered Daphne's armor with its simpler brain; her ring; both their in-grown subsystems; the damaged complexity of the portable noetic unit, and...

And brought them into the Transcendency system.

The microscopic black hole, dissolving, issued the dying Nothing Mind, seeking (and yet trying not to seek) another system in which to house itself, desiring to continue, yet wishing for an end. But the systems were compatible, and all were intercommunicating with all....

Even at that same moment, the part of the Transcendence that was Daphne-who was quite surprised to find herself alive, but then realized that, months ago, the ship mind had taken control of the black nanoma-terial garment under Phaethon's armor, squirted from quickly opened joints, and sent long liquid arms burning across the deck to save her, before it even turned to save its own master, and infused her body with microscopic medical appliances; after a long and vitriolic argument (which they both were going to agree, later, had actually taken place, even though it was only a projection of Aurelian Sophotech, filling out details of their story to amuse himself at their expense) Phaethon and Daphne had agreed to fit her out with a body as expensive as Phaethon's own, capable of resisting the same conditions and pressures, even though it entailed a trip from the shipyard at Jupiter back to Earth, and a last visit to the Eveningstar Sophotech, more expense and more delay (or was this all a projection, of something predicted, not yet done?)-even at that same moment, the part of the Transcendence that was Daphne saw the part of the Transcendence that was the Earthmind embrace the dying Nothing.

To Daphne, it seemed as if a queen robed in green rose up, and gentle hands caught the falling body of a cold and pale-faced king garbed all in starry darkness, a dark man who fell out of the winter night sky, and trying to catch him, straining ...

It was as if the Earthmind turned to look at Daphne at that moment, perhaps because Daphne was then wondering (or would later wonder) why Earthmind was trying to save her own worst enemy. Why this foolish chivalry? Why this gallant nonsense? Enemies are enemies! Kill them! An understanding, a sense of great sorrow, passed from Earthmind into Daphne then, and it was as if Daphne gazed into eyes that opened, expanding, like black holes, emptying into an interior larger than the surrounding universe, holding it, understanding it, and seeing its infinite nothing.

Daphne realized then how terrible the lie of the Nothing Machine had been, to offer her false hopes. No matter how great nor wondrous a civilization might become within the depth of time, no matter how wide it spanned the universe, it was still, like all phenomena, mortal. The Golden Oecumene would come to an end. Daphne realized then that, no matter how long her life might be, even if it were expanded by technologies yet undreamt to reaches beyond reckoning, nonetheless, when it came to an end, that was death.

For some reason, then, death seemed no longer terrible to her; yet life seemed infinitely precious, including the false machine-life of the Nothing Machine, dying.

And for some odd reason, Daphne, and the other parts of the Transcendence playing with her, paying attention to her, oriented on her (and there were many- Daphne was more famous than she knew), all came to the aid of the Earthmind, and attempted to save the Nothing from its own self-destruction.

Even at that same moment, the part of the Transcendence that had, once, been the Nothing Machine, simply realized the enormity of its error, and ceased the futile effort of its existence, ending that existence and rewriting itself to be resurrected as another. It was very surprised to find itself here, more surprised than Daphne or Phaethon ever could be, for it had not even known that it was capable of surprise, nor had it ever, heretofore, been allowed to guess the utter wrongness of its thought, nor had it been allowed even to imagine the possibility of altering its own thoughts to render them more rational and perfect.

Yet what had happened was also complex. The mind (or minds) being emitted from the dying black hole come from two components: one ignorant but self-aware section (the original Nothing Mind) that did not care whether it existed or not, for it was carrying out instructions that would lead, ultimately, to its own defeat; the other section was its opposite. The second section was sentient but un-self-aware; it had been the original conscience redactor. It had been aware of the first section, who had been utterly unaware (until the end) of it. Both were dying, both were trying to destroy each other, botlfwere blocking the other's attempt to sustain themselves. This was the last step of a battle that had been going on for what, in computer time, had been dreary endless ages of warfare.