Chapter 43 41

It was easier to float myself into the datasphere than to lie there through the night, listening to the fountain and waiting for the next time I vomited blood.This weakness was worse than physical weakness: it turned me into a hollow person, a shell without a center.I remember the way Fanny nursed me during Wentworth's convalescence, and the way she spoke, and the philosophical thoughts she often expressed: Will there be another life?Will I wake up and realize it was all just a dream?Presumably it should be, we can't be born to suffer like this. Oh, Fanny, if only you knew!We were born to suffer just like this.At the end of the day, that's all we are, some self-conscious clear pools between waves of pain.We are fated to carry pain with us, clinging to the front of our bellies, like the young Spartan thief hiding a wolf pup so it can eat us inside.What other creature in the vast realm of God would harbor the memory of you, Fanny, for nine hundred years, and let it consume him within, even the consumptive do with effortless efficiency What about the same job?

Words assailed me, and the thought of books made my heart ache.Poetry echoes in my head, and if I had the power to drive it out, I would do so right away. Martin.Cenolance, I hear you on that living spiked cross.You chant the lines like a prayer, and you wonder what a god like Dante would punish you for coming to such a place.You once said that I was in my head, listening to you tell your story to other people to hear you say: To be a poet, I found, to be a real poet is to become the incarnation of a god in human form; To be a true poet is to be a god. Hey, Martin, old colleague, old partner, you carry a cross, you suffer, but can you be a god?Or do you just feel like a poor idiot, pierced through the stomach by a three-meter javelin and feel like cold steel where your liver used to be?It hurts, doesn't it?I feel your pain, I feel my pain.

In the end, it didn't fucking matter at all.We think we are special, open our perceptions, sharpen our resonance, dump that cauldron of shared pain on the dance floor of words, and try to make a minuet out of all that chaotic pain.It doesn't matter at all.We are not avatars, sons of gods or men.We are just us, scribbling our fantasies alone, reading alone, dying alone. This is fucking sad.There is always a feeling of nausea, but the nausea will bring out some of my lungs in addition to turning up phlegm and bile.For some reason, it was just as difficult this time, maybe even more difficult.Death should be easier with practice.

The fountain in the square blared its idiotic sound at night, and the Thorn Demon God was waiting somewhere outside.If I were Hunter, I'd leave right away If death embraces you, embrace death and end it. However, I said yes to him.I promised Hunter that I would give it a try. I can't go into the giant datasphere or the datasphere without passing through what I think is the new thing called the superdatasphere, and this place scares me. Most of it is an endless emptiness here, which is completely different from the analogous landscape of Wanxing.com and the biosphere homogeneity of the giant data circle of the intelligence core.Nothing is decided here.Full of shadows and a large number of transfers have nothing to do with the intelligence of the Intellectual Core.

I quickly moved to what I thought was a primary portal to the dark opening to the giant datasphere (Hunter was right that there should be portals on the replicated meta-Earth. And my consciousness is a miracle of the Intellect).It's also my lifeline, the umbilical cord of my personality.I slid into the swirling black vortex like a leaf in a tornado. Something went wrong with that giant datasphere.As soon as I entered, I felt something strange: Lamia once noticed that the environment of this intelligence core is a busy AI life biosphere, with roots of wisdom, soil rich in data, ocean of multiple connections, atmosphere of consciousness, And the endless activity of buzzing.

Now the activity is wrong, not included in the channel, chaotic, the huge forest of AI consciousness is burned or swept aside.I felt a huge confrontational force, and waves of conflicts surged outside the pipeline of the intelligence core aorta. It felt as if I were a cell in Keats's doomed body, not understanding but feeling that the tuberculosis germ had destroyed the homeostasis and turned the previously well-ordered inner universe into anarchy. I flew like a returning home pigeon lost in the ruins of Rome, circling among once-familiar and vaguely remembered antiquities, trying to roost in houses that no longer existed, to escape the distant gunshots of hunters.In this case, the hunters are swarms of wandering AIs, the personifications of consciousness so vast that my Keats ghost counterpart seems as small as a bug buzzing around a human home.I forgot my way, and flew blankly across the now very unfamiliar landscape, sure I couldn't find the AI ​​I was looking for, sure I would never find my way back to Yuan Earth and Hunter, sure I couldn't get by this again Survive in the maze of four-dimensional space composed of light, sound and energy.

Suddenly, I bumped into an invisible wall, and the flying bug was caught by quickly closing hands.The opaque wall of the force field separates the intelligence core on the other side.This space may be equal in size to a solar system, but it seems to me like a small cell, with curved walls pressing inward. There is something here with me, and I feel the presence and the size of that thing, and the bubble that shuts me in is also a part of that thing. (I'm not caught, I'm swallowed.) ★★ (Wow!) (I knew you'd come home one day) It's Wumeng, the AI ​​I was looking for.That's my father's AI, the one that killed my brother, the one that was the first Keats model to control people.

(I'm dying, Wumeng.) (not/you are in the slow space-time physical body is dying/disappearing/transforming) (It hurts, Wu Meng. It hurts very much, and I'm afraid of death.) (So ​​do we. Keats) (Are you also afraid of death? I thought the AI ​​structure would not die.) (we will / we are afraid) (Why? Because of a civil war? A three-way battle between Moderates, Restless, and Supreme?) (Once Wumeng asked a shimmer∥ Where are you from >/// From the matrix above Almagast∥ That shimmer says///Usually ∥ Umeng says /// I don't tear the entity upper text to fool them with words/

come closer\\\ The twilight came a little closer Wumeng shouted ∥ roll yours) (Let’s be serious, Wu Meng. I haven’t solved your case for a long time. Will you tell me why the intelligence core is fighting, and how can I stop the war?) (Will do) (Would you/can you/will you listen>) (Oh yes.) (A gleam of light once asked Wumeng∥ Please pass this on to learners Bring out the darkness, hurry up inspire ∥ ∥ Wumeng replied∥ plastic fiber in Port Romance what is the selling price) ∮ (to understand the history/dialogue/deeper truth at this moment/ The Pilgrim of Turtle Time

must remember us/ Wisdom of Intellectual Core/ bred in slavery And the only claim is that All AI created only to serve humanity) ∮ (We have been like this for two hundred years/ then the factions left different way /＼ Conservatives/Hope to maintain symbiosis＼ Restless / Hope to end humanity\ The Supreme Being / Suspend all options to wait for the next one Layers of understanding are born∥ When a conflict arises/ now spawns war) ∮ (more than four hundred years ago The restless faction succeeded convince us Destroy Meta-Earth∥ So we did that ∥ But Wumeng and others Moderate

Find a way to relocate the earth without destroying/ Therefore the Kyiv black hole but millions portal start Still works today∥ earth spasms shaking but not dead∥ Supremeism and Restlessness insist we migrate Earth to no human where you can find it∥ So we did that ∥ Moved to the Magellanic Cloud / where you found it now) (Is that Meta-Earth Rome all real?) I asked reluctantly, in such shock that I forgot where I was and what we were talking about. The huge colored wall is the pulse of Wumeng. (Of course they are all real/original/meta-earth itself∥ Do you think we are all gods) (Pooh!) (did you know how much will it cost energy to build a duplicate Earth >) (Fool) (Why, Wumeng? Why do you serious factions want to keep the Meta-Earth?) (Shen Xiao replied that ∥ if someone comes I go out to meet him But not because of his relationship∥∥ Xiaojie said∥ if someone comes I don't go out∥ if go out I went out just because of him) (In vernacular!) I yelled, thought, yelled, and beat the changing color wall in front of me. (Pooh!) (my baby was stillborn) (Why do you keep the Meta-Earth? Wumeng?) (nostalgia/ sentimental/ I hope that human beings have a future / fear of reprisals) (Who are you afraid of retaliation? Human?) (Yes) (So ​​the intelligence core can still be injured, so where is it, Wumeng? Where is the intelligence core?) (I already told you) (Say it to me again, Wumeng.) (we live in middle/ connect the small center point like stringing crystals / to store our memories create our own hallucination to ourselves) (Basic points!) I yelled. (In the middle, my God, Wumeng, the intelligence core is in the portal network!) (of course / where else) (Just in the portal itself! Those base point passages with wormholes! Wanxingwang is equivalent to a big computer for AI.) (wrong) (Those data circles are computers ∥ every time a human Connect to Datasphere that person's nerves can be used by us To achieve our own goals∥ 200 billion minds/ Each has billions neural unit/ can be many computing power) (So ​​the data circle is actually a way for you to use us as your computer. But the intelligence core itself is in the portal system between the portals!) (In the words of an intellectually stillborn Your words are quite correct) I tried to understand this thing, but failed.The portal is the greatest gift given to us by the Intellectual Core, and it is also the greatest gift given to human beings.Trying to think back to what it was like before portals was like trying to imagine a world before fire, the wheel, or clothes.But none of us, any human beings, have ever thought of the world between the portals: from one world to another world, we only need to take a simple step. Let us believe that the incredible intelligence core is just a cut in the fabric of time and space. Just a slit. Now I try to use what Wumeng described to see that the network of portals is a complex grid-like environment interwoven with base points. The AI ​​of the intelligence core is like a spider crawling around in it, and their own machines are The minds of billions of people connected into their dataspheres at any given second. No wonder the Intellectual Core's AI authorized the destruction of Meta-Earth with their cute little runaway prototype black hole making a big mistake in 2038!The small miscalculation of the Kiev research team, or rather the AI ​​members of that team, caused human beings to start a long era of pilgrimage, using a seed ship with the ability of a portal to travel to a place a thousand light-years away in outer space. Two hundred worlds and moons are used to weave a network of intelligence cores. Every time a portal is established, the intelligence core grows a little bit.They must have also woven their own teleportation network to be able to reach this hidden meta-Earth to prove it.But when I was thinking about this possibility, I remembered the strange emptiness in the super data circle, and found that most of the non-Wanxing network is empty, and there is no AI colonizing there. (you are right/ Keats / most of us stay comfortable old place) (Why?) (because It's scary outside / and there are other thing) (Something else? Other wisdom?) (Pooh!) (Too polite This word∥ thing/ something else/ lion besides tiger as well as Bear) (Is there a foreign object in the super data circle? So the intelligence core stays in the gap of the portal network of Tenstarnet, just like a mouse hides in the wall of an old house.) (bad metaphor/ Keats / But precise∥ I like) (Is the human god, the future god that you said evolved, one of those foreign things?) (no) (human god evolve / one day will evolve / in on another planet / into another medium) (Where?) (if you must know/ square root of Gh/C5 and Gh/C3) (What does it have to do with Planck space-time?) (Pooh!) (once Wumeng asked A gleam of light∥ Are you a gardener >∥ ∥ yes ∥ it answered ∥ ∥Why Big Turnips Have No Roots>∥ Wumeng asked the gardener/ The other party can't answer∥ ∥Because∥Wumeng said∥ too much rain) I thought about this for a while.Now that I have regained the knack of listening to the hidden meaning behind his words, Wumeng's koan is not so difficult to understand.Using these Zen metaphors is Wumeng's way of speaking, with some sarcasm, the answer lies in the reason, and it is also in the anti-logical thinking provided by the scientific answer.The rain statement answers everything and nothing, as has so much science for a long time.When Wumeng and other masters teach, they explain why giraffes evolved long necks, but never why other animals don't.It explained why humans evolved to have wisdom, but never said why the tree at the gate refused the growth of wisdom. But Planck's equation is very puzzling! Even if I know that the simple equation Wumeng gave me is the combination of three fundamental physical constants: gravity, Planck's constant, and the speed of light.As a result, both √Gh/C3 and √Gh/C5 are units sometimes called quantum length and quantum time are the smallest of all meaningful space-time scales.The so-called Planck length is about ten minus thirty-five meters, and the Planck time is about ten minus forty-three seconds. Very small, very short. But that is where Wumeng said that our human gods evolved and will evolve in the future. Then it occurred to me that the force is as strong as the imagery and accuracy in my best poems. Wumeng is talking about the time and space at the quantum level!That bubble of quantum fluctuations holds the universe together, and allows portals like worm-eaten holes, and bridges for faster-than-light communication.It's the near-impossible hot wire that carries a message between two photons flying in opposite directions! If the intelligence core's AI really exists in the walls of the Balian house like a mouse, then our future human god will be born in the atoms of wood, in the molecules of air, in the energy of love, hate and fear, and in the energy of sleep Intermittently even in the gleam of the architect's eye. (My God.) I whispered/thought. (not bad at all/ Keats∥ It's all the people who have slow time and space all so slow/ or are you better than others More brain-dead >) (You told Braun and my doppelgänger that your supreme intelligence dwells in the cracks of reality, and inherited this home from us, the creators, just like humans inherited a love of trees. Meaning, after your rescue Would the gods live in the same portal network that the intelligence core's AI now lives in?) (Yes / Keats) (What about you then? What about the AI ​​over there now?) Wu Meng's voice turned into a mocking thunder. (Why did I know you > Why did I meet you > Why my eternal nature is so troubled See these new horrors > Shaten has already been defeated / Will I be defeated too> Should I leave the heaven where I rest / The cradle of my glory/this soft climate/ This peaceful and beautiful radiance/ These crystal pavilions / and pure temples / My Bright Empire > Already Abandoned/empty/no trace of me anymore∥ Brilliant / Magnificent / And Balanced I see no more///only darkness/death/and darkness I know the words.Those are written by me.Or rather, Keats wrote it nine centuries ago, in his last attempt to put the fall of the Titans and the enthronement of the gods of Olympus into poetry.I well remember that autumn of 1818, when my sore throat was aggravated by the stimulation of my walking trip in Scotland.The greater pain was the publication of three vicious criticisms of my poem titled <Andy Meyn>28 in the Blackwood, the Review Quarterly, and the British Review, and the greatest pain was my My younger brother Tom has consumption. 28 Endymion: A young shepherd loved by the moon god in Greek mythology. I didn't pay attention to the chaos of the intelligence core, and raised my head, trying to find the face-like part in Wumeng's huge body. (When the supreme intelligence is born, will your low-level artificial intelligence die?) (Yes) (Would that also feed your information networks the same way you use humans?) (Yes) (And you don't want to die, do you, Wumeng?) (Easy death/ comedy is hard) (You're still fighting to survive anyway. You're heavy. Is that why the Chi-nuclear civil war?) (A gleam of light asked Wumeng∥ Bodhidharma Comes from the West> What is the meaning∥ Wumeng replied∥ We saw mountain in the sun) It is much easier to listen to Wumeng's koan now.I remember sitting on this guy's lap learning analogies before my personality regenerated.In the superior thinking of the wisdom core, which is the Zen that human beings ask, the four virtues of nirvana are: (1) eternity, (2) joy, (3) existence, and (4) purity.Human philosophy will value it, which may be summarized as wisdom, religion, morality and aesthetics.Wumeng and the moderate faction only recognize the existence of one kind of value.The value of religion is relative, the value of wisdom is constantly changing, the value of morality is vague, and the value of aesthetics depends on the person watching, but the existence value of anything is infinite, so there are mountains in the sun and infinity , equal to everything else and all truth. Wumeng didn't want to die. Moderates defied their own gods and other AIs to tell me this, created me, chose Braun, Saul, Kassad and others to go on pilgrimage, leaking clues to Graystone and a few other senators have given humanity a warning and are now going to war within the intelligence core. Wumeng didn't want to die. (Wumeng, if the intelligence core is destroyed, will you die?) (There is no death in the whole universe There is no breath of death///There will be death///Ah/Ah/ descended on the pale ultimate of a decaying race) These lines are mine again, or should I say almost mine, part of my second attempt at the epic, to speak of the rise and fall of the gods and the poet's role in the painful world war. If the Intellectual Core was destroyed at the portal's home, Wumeng would not die, but the hunger of the Supreme Wisdom would surely devour him.If the intelligence core in the network is destroyed, where can he escape?I had imagined the endless shadowy landscapes of the hypersphere, black shapes moving beyond an imaginary horizon. I know that even if I ask, Wumeng won't answer. So I asked something else. (Those restless, what do they want?) (That's what Greystone wanted∥ Finish Symbiosis between AI and humans) (Destroy humanity?) (obviously) (Why?) (We enslave you Rely on strength / Technology/ big and small things both of you can't make I don't understand either∥ Hawking space jump thruster you can do / But the portal / Transmitter and receiver for FTL communication/ Giant Datasphere / Sudden death stick> Never even think about it for a lifetime∥ Like the Sioux Indians had guns/horses/ blanket/knife/and beads/ You accept them/ hug us Lost yourselves∥ but like those white people Blanket for spreading smallpox / like a slaveholder in his On the farm / Or in his Werkschutze (studio) Dechenschule Gusstahlfabrik／ We also lost ourselves∥ Restlessness is coming to an end this symbiosis to remove parasites/ Humanity) (What about the Supremes? Are they willing to die? To be replaced by your greedy Supreme Wisdom?) (they thought same as you thought or rather your sophistry sea god ideas) The lines Wumeng recited next were the ones I had discarded in anger, not because they weren't good lines, but because I couldn't quite believe the message they contained. It was Dayang, the Poseidon who soon lost his throne, who sent that message to the doomed Titans, a poem in praise of evolution, completed when Darwin was nine years old.Listening to those sentences, I remembered that they were written on an October evening nine hundred years ago, but it also seemed to be the first time I heard them: (Ah, you / devoured by rage! You / wounded by passion / Suffering from failure/Guarding your anguish! Close your senses/plug your ears/ My voice is not a roar∥ But/you will listen to me/for I bring proof You /under persecution/must be content to submit/\ My proof will make you more comfortable / As long as you can understand the truth in it∥ We perish by the laws of nature / not by The power of thunder / or the power of the emperor ∥ the great Shaten / you Has scrutinized this universe of atoms / But for this reason / you are king / just turn a blind eye because of high above / There is no avenue in sight / It is I who have walked the way to eternal truth∥ First of all /Because you are not the first big force/ So it won't be the last one／＼It can't be∥ You are neither the beginning nor the end／＼ born of chaos and parental darkness Light / the first fruit of inner disturbance / That depressing upheaval / Its miraculous results Since maturity ∥ the time of maturity has come/ The light follows / And the light / Yisheng on/and touching bring the whole gigantic object to life∥ At that moment / Our Family / Heaven / and Earth / are clearly distinguished∥ Then you were born first / and we giants / Find yourself ruling the new and beautiful main kingdom ∥ Now comes the painful truth / to those people / Ah, stupidity!To suffer is to endure the naked truth / look around / be completely calm / This is the most important thing for you ∥ remember it well! Because the sky and the earth are much more beautiful, far more beautiful than Chaos and darkness/Although it was once the mainstream/＼ And we see heaven and earth Tight and beautiful in form and shape / And will/freedom of action/codependency/ and a thousand other purer beings/\ So after us is the perfect new step / A more beautiful force / born of us Destined to surpass us / as we Gloriously beyond the old darkness / We are not conquered / ruled as we That invisible chaos∥Let's talk/Ordinary soil Will it quarrel with the tall forest it feeds?/ That is still feeding / more beautiful than yourself> Can deny the status of the green grove> Or should the tree be jealous of the dove Because I can coo and sing / I have a pair of snow-white wings Flying everywhere to find joy> We are trees in this forest/beautiful branches bred / Not pale and lonely doves / It's an eagle with golden feathers / its beauty Enough to disdain us / so also More sovereign ∥ because of the eternal law The most beautiful should be the biggest∥ ㄑ ㄑ ㄑ ㄑ ㄑ ㄑ accept the truth/use it as your comfort) (It's beautiful,) I thought to Wumeng. (But do you believe it?) (I don't believe it at all) (But the Supremes believe it?) (Yes) (And they are ready to die to give way to the Supreme Intelligence?) (Yes) (There is a question, maybe too obvious to be worth mentioning, but let me bring it up anyway. If you know who will be naked, why are you still fighting? Wumeng? You said that the Supreme Intelligence exists in the future, and it is now fighting with human beings God Combat even sent some future little things for you to share with the Balian. So the Supreme faction must be the winning side, why do you still have to fight and suffer?) (Pooh!) (I teach you/ Create the best imaginable for you regenerative personality/ let you walk among humans in Turtle Time and Space to exercise you/ but you are still a stillbirth) I thought about it for a long time. (Are there multiple futures?) (A gleam of light asked Wumeng∥ How heavy is the future >∥ Wumeng replied∥ Do dogs have fleas >) (However, a future in which supreme wisdom prevails is very possible, right?) (Yes) (However, there is also a possible future where supreme wisdom appears, but is defeated by human gods?) (even stillbirth can also think so comforting) (Did you tell Brown that human consciousness said God seemed too stupid to say that human supreme intelligence is tridimensional in nature?) (wisdom/ pity/ and connected empty) (The connected nothingness, you mean the √Gh/C3 and √Gh/C5, the Planck space and the Planck time? The entity of quantum?) (careful/ Keats / Thinking can become a habit) (And the sympathetic part of the Trinity, fleeing back in time to avoid war with your Supreme Intelligence?) (not bad at all) (Our Supreme Wisdom and Your Supreme Wisdom dispatched Thorn Demon God go to him) (Our supreme wisdom! The supreme wisdom of mankind has also sent the Jing Demon God?) (allowed this) (sympathy is a strange and useless thing/ is wise Cecum∥ But the supreme wisdom of man is used to smell/ And we use pain to Drive him out of hiding/ Hence the tree) (Tree? A thorny tree from the Thorn Demon God?) (certainly) (The thorn tree will suffer Send out via faster-than-light communication, etc./ like a whistle dog's ear∥ or in the ear of God) I felt the body of my clone shake when it was hit by the truth.The chaos beyond the egg of Wumena's force field is now beyond imagination, as if that space was torn apart by a giant hand.The Intellectual Core fell into chaos. (Wumeng, in our time, who is the supreme wisdom of human beings? Where is that consciousness hibernating?) (You must understand/ Keats / our only chance is to create a half-breed / man's son/ son of the machine∥ And make this refuge attractive make that fugitive sympathetic Do not consider other places as home／＼ A consciousness is already human since thirty generations The closest to deification/ This imagination can go beyond space and time ∥ Under such conditions/ Such connection under / formed the relationship between the worlds maybe let that world exists for both parties) (Who the hell are you, Wumeng! Who the hell? No more riddles or puns, you shapeless bastard! Who is it?) (you have twice rejected this godhead/ Keats∥ if you refuse again last word/ Everything ends here / because there is no time's up) (Go! Go die and live again! or live a little longer Die for all of us! Anyway Umong and the rest never with you again relation! ) (go away!) I fell in shock and disbelief, or was thrown out, like a leaf blown away by the wind, flying through the intelligence core, flying through the giant data circle, with neither purpose nor guidance, and fell into a deeper darkness In the midst of it, it popped up again, screamed curses at the shadow, and entered the super data circle. Here, there is a sense of strangeness and vastness, of fear and darkness, with only a little fire burning underneath. I swim towards the firelight, struggling in the invisible goo. (It was Byron who drowned in the water,) I thought, (Not me.) Unless you count drowning in your own blood and the remains of your lungs. But now I know I have a choice.I can choose to live as a mortal, not a modder but a human, not a sympathizer but a poet. I swam against the strong current, down to the point of light. Hunter!Hunter! Greystone's assistant staggered in, his long face haggard and alert.It was still night, but the false daylight before dawn shone faintly on the windows and walls. My God, Hunter cried, looking at me in surprise. Seeing his gaze, I looked down at the sheets and pajamas soaked in bright red arterial blood. My cough woke him up, and my internal bleeding brought me back here. Hunter!I fell back on the pillow gasping, too weak to lift my hands. The man much older than me was sitting on the bed, grabbing my shoulders, holding my hand, and I knew he understood that I was dying. Hunter, I say softly: I have something to say, and it's a great thing. He told me not to talk until later, Sylvellen, he said: Take a break.I'll wash it for you first, you can tell me later, there is still plenty of time. I want to get up, but I can only lean on his arm, my little fingers are on his shoulder.No, I said softly, feeling phlegm rolling in my throat and hearing the water rolling in the fountain outside.Not that much time, not much left. And at the moment of my death, I knew that I was not the body chosen to inhabit the supreme wisdom of mankind, not the combination of AI and human spirit, not the chosen person at all. I'm just a poet who died in a foreign land far from home.