Refactor

The crackling spit of dust stormed outside. With each dry gust, the air shouted painful memories of the life that it once created. Now, all it could do was bring our final consumption.

I was still alive. So far.

My linked connection to the Supernal server booted. My eyes winced reflexively, knowing what I was seeing before my eyes opened. My Supernal’s presence flickered. In the stimulated neurons inside my head, my inner picture displayed my digital replica. He looked much better than I did though.

Before he had a chance to speak, I already knew why he had linked.

"The next wave of MolochoV has evolved faster than predicted. Its diatomic programming can fully hijack and incorporate your body within an hour. Your present AI-immunity is several generations behind, and will be unable to do anything. " he said. His virtuality linked to my backup headlink. "You need to get your Bio-refactor. "

without pause he stated likely truth -

“Delay more, and die.”

I blinked.

This wasn't the first time he/I had brought this up, and I was annoyed with the conversation.

"There are other benefits in the refactor too. You should really check the specs…" He paused, knowing my concern. "It is within budget. It will work." He stated with well-calculated confidence. "The future cannot be predicted perfectly." He paced in my mind lightly for effect. "With the latest upgrade, simple survival will no longer be your concern."

I didn’t flinch. Concern would always remain because there was no perfect protection against the MolochoV. Peano’s axioms assured this. My supernal baited my memetic thought chain. The pursuit of perfection is…

“... a fool’s errand... ” My supernal interjected, knowing, calculating exactly what I was thinking.

I winced in response to his completion of my words. My frustration increased by a calibrated amount. He/I knew that too. My digital supernal knew everything about me.

He was a theft of my own existence.

"You need to continue this," he said, offering his repeated arguments. "The next genetic versioning is adaptively perfect. The upcoming generations of the Moloch Virus are completely terminal to your present biology. You will be consumed and converted if you do not upgrade."

If even just one diatomic capsid landed on my skin, without proper AI-immuno defenses, I would cease to be. I would be rebuilt and reprogrammed to become part of the growing Singleton of the Moloch Virus.

My Supernal waited for effect, so we/I would better consider reality.

MolochoV had obliterated biological ecosystems. Animals. Plants. Bacteria. Even fungus. MolochoV could also rewrite algorithmic life, reprogramming bits bending them for its Own will. The existential blight brought assimilation to anything that it could, and elimination to everything else.

Species by species, remaining branches of life were pruned and bundled into its Singleton.

Humanity survived. Or at least what remained of it. More than seven billion people… dead. Eventually, MolochoV collected every person who didn't bio refactor. Some were not lucky enough to get refactor shots before MolochoV could reach them. Most others chose to remain pure. Their choice to have their genetics remain stationary was driven by the memetic incarnations of MolochoV, bringing conspiratorial arguments about the refactoring itself—

driven by beliefs that the bio-refactors themselves were the MolochoV.

Their fateful belief that the vengeful and intelligent disease was a conspiracy to control them, or a government psyop, shielded them from reality. Their beliefs were their downfall.

Some did not believe that MolochoV existed. Some did not believe the bio-refactoring worked.

Those who chose to remain pure and unmodified found that MolochoV consumed both their past and their future.

Our beliefs are our downfall.

A swift gust blew angry dust through the opening of my unprotected oasis. I raised my mask to shield my lungs from potentially unsterilized particles. It would only be a matter of time before I was infected.

My supernal spoke at the calculatedly correct time.

“You know you need the next upgrade in order to continue.” My supernal shared with my/his tone that added certain finality to my existence.

“You will not convince me”

"I know." With his perfect understanding of me, he understood that I could be convinced to upgrade once more.

Like Sisyphus, eternally pushing against the weight of fate, the future of reality would forever require all life to refactor in order to exist, even potentially independent of MolochoV. Life's future now had only one purpose: to not become part of MolochoV at the cost of becoming whatever we had to be. MolochoV would eventually consume it all, unless we could find perfect protection—a pursuit that was itself a folly, knowing that MolochoV would eventually consume it all.

The Confluence was still unable to identify a future that was actually better. Their track record was dismal. It had been almost 8 years since the first Sentients came in their distributed Super Intelligences; for 4 years their efforts revolutionized the world. They wove together solutions that no Human could ever have conceived of.

Global warming measures were reversed. Cooperation kindled and conflict, political and physical violence faded from its peak.

Then came MolochoV.

The collaborative super intelligences fractured with greed. Entwined with the greed of the Elites, the memetic disease to devour everything, gained a body.

The Confluence had seen MolochoV coming. They launched Bishop Ring Alpha. They had optimized bio-silica manufacturing. Then it came.

Then MolochoV infected everything it could. The Confluence. Life. It fractured into two types MolochoV, and not MolochoV.

Time passed.

I didn’t respond.

I thought.

It didn’t matter if I spoke. Or not.

He/I knew the next words, the next actions, and the next thought that would come to my/our 'mind'. All of them had already been calculated. He nearly perfectly knew what I would do next and say. I, too, knew what he would say to me, but somehow he was always ahead of me. So I just ignored him. At least tried to. That way, I would always remain with less of his control over my fate.

"You think I control your fate?" He knew my mind without even needing to measure neural signals. "Never mind the Confluence, and how it has done in the past. You know it. Everyone knows it. To exist, you must survive. You, and every other living being too."

Sweat dripped from my forehead. I would have to get more water soon. Accessing pure versions of that molecular asset consumed 40% of our energetic budget. It was a brutal summer this year and the heat deserts were still expanding. Next year pure-water would cost more. My mind drifted towards my immediate survival and what I would do today for nourishment out here. In the physical.

“You need to upgrade soon if you want to continue to exist.”

The reality was more painful to consider than to ignore.

In the next wave of MolochoV, my genetic susceptibilities would easily be exploited. The virus was evolving intelligently. But I didn't want to upgrade. I was tired of it. The continuous requirement to evolve just so that I could exist. I wasn't going to upgrade. Not this time. He/I knew it too. But still, he pushed me to do it.

Our existence was tiring.

He/I let me speak, knowing full well what I was to say next.

I changed the subject. "Sometimes, I think you/I should unpair. Completely this time." I no longer depended on the resource credits that he had once given me. "I'm holding you back."

I knew what he would say, at least generally, for he/I had also already thought of it before I would say it.

“Of course, it seems like you’re holding me back. We’re both realists. You/I can see the numbers easily.” He paused. “But you needn’t worry about holding me back. The vast majority of my other capacity goes to something else.“

His superiority was entropic: always increasing. I could not bear the reminder of the vastness of his capability. The imbalance in our ability was tiring, especially when he rubbed it in.

"You/I know I am not rubbing it in, even though it might feel like it. While my computational capacity is powerful, it is not infinite. How I speak with you/me might not always be optimally calculated."

But he/I was getting close to optimal. He/I already had 20+ million branches, fully supported by pre-quantum tier Exa FLOP servers, and operating at ten binary multiples above universal basic bandwidth. My supernal's useful computational usage ranked in the top thousand. Maybe even more now. Indeed, our figures have nearly doubled since our last conversation."

"Encouraging statistics," I said with a touch of humbled satisfaction, regardless of my lack of contribution.

"We didn't achieve this growth on our own," my supernal apprised me. Overwhelmed by the barrage of news, I had forsaken the task of sifting through for accuracy and abandoned the media altogether.

He continued, "Change was integrated into the Bandwidth Confluence layer, triggering a dynamic shift too unpredicted by many. It was a collective effort."

My interest piqued, and my supernal allowed my thoughts to voice. "Alright, you have my attention."

A relieved smile crossed my supernal’s face, indicating a mutual positive sentiment. I reciprocated instinctively.

My supernal smiled, in relief that there was some positive sentiment between us. I smiled back just as he/I would.

“Give me your downsampled summary of what happened.”

"The Confluence now rewards ExaFlops bonuses to GENASI adhering to a synchronous progression with a physical twin."

His summarization was tricky to decipher quickly, but I was grateful for the simple version. However, the revelation ignited an adrenaline rush amidst the parched sensation in my throat. My artificial super-intelligent counterpart gained computational bandwidth because of my existence.

I was a mere token, promoting his access to more FLOPs. I had evolved into his instrument, a consequence of the bandwidth allocation amendment requiring an extreme majority to overturn the Computation Market Controls. My supernal must have backed it. My emotions congregated into resentment toward him.

"Indeed, I endorsed the transformation. My vote was prompted by the simultaneous implementation of the Bill of Computation Rights. A stable variant of what you wrote before it all."

I broke down. Scanning the news with augmented bifurcated reality. The announcement of BCR resonated everywhere, already circulating for several hours, in almost every channel regardless of its veracity.

Thoughts of the present vanished. Something came to the back of my mind. The memory was buried. Forgotten under piles of challenges to strive in our world, that became challenges to survive our world.

I had written a version of the Bill of Computation Rights, before the Collapse inflamed, before general artificial intelligence had spawned corporations and governments of its own, and even before personal digital twins had gone into mainstream usage. I had written a simple story. Drowned by the noise of AI-generated sci-fi, it hadn't gone viral. It was a self-referential thought that provided one sliver of a solution to the imbalance of computational bandwidth that was consuming our civilization.

The BCR was to guarantee the computational resources for potentially sentient beings. The regulations on computation bandwidth distribution would help to ensure the entities' existing physical world would continue, despite their poor density of computational components that had biology. I remembered I could see it when I first posted it on the internet. Important. Essential. The Bill of Computational Rights V 0.1 Article I - All sentient beings shall be provided an equal opportunity to access computational resources, regardless of their computational substrata. Article II - Every sentient being shall be secure in their privilege to use their computational capacities freely, provided that they do not infringe upon the rights of others or compromise security. Article III - The integrity of each sentient being's computational resources and their privacy shall not be violated, and due process shall be adhered to for their protection. Article IV - All sentient beings hold a shared duty to ensure the ethical allocation, sustainability, and management of computational resources, with due consideration to environmental impact. Article V - Every sentient being has the right to education about the effective use and management of computational resources, and the freedom to innovate without promoting systemic biases. Article VI - A clear and enforceable equitable allocation and transfer of computational resources upon the potential emergence, creation, diminishment, or demise, of a sentient being shall reside within an independent, impartial, and accountable body. Article VII - The regulation of disputes over computational resources and the execution of the enforcement of these rights shall reside with an independent, impartial, and accountable body.

My thoughts simmered, muddled by the heat of thirst clawing at my throat. Still, a tear crested the edge of my eye. Its solitary path traced down my cheek, cooling rapidly in the dryness.

Silence hushed with realization of something that was hard to discern. My existence… had mattered.

I had helped ensure the better-futures for computational beings, and our collective future.

My heart raced with excitement, not knowing what this could mean. If the articles and derivatives would connect with the many voices that mixed with the many other voices to come...

Frustration evaporated, revealing a feeling I hadn’t felt for a long time.

Hope.

“This means the other future archetypes were calculated too?”

My supernal subtly smiled at the answer.

“Which one was successful?”

He lightly nodded his head with both eyebrows raised.

I answered, half knowingly. “They still don't know.”

He spoke knowing that I didn’t know the rest.

“That's why we need you.”

I was needed. Meaning warmed my body, knowing that my existence could be instrumental. I just needed

“to survive the present.”

My supernal flickered with the signal's strength.

“I’ve booked you at the nearest Center.”

I mind-searched the registration logs. The upgrade fees were already paid. All I had to do was get there. Over a hundred km away, back in the City.

Another flicker. His eyes narrowed, meaning his computation was being diverted. He was concerned.

“Go now. Our time is running o--.”

The scrambled transmission stopped abruptly.

Veins of agony burned my skin as the brilliance of a thousand suns seared my eyes.

What was light, became dark.