more alien creatures inhabiting ever more impossible spaces as our minds developed a fluid capacity for neuroplasticity. Our proxxi and educational bots constantly presented us with an endless barrage of games and puzzles to solve as we spun through these worlds, treating every moment as a learning opportunity.
From the first few years of our lives, from our point of view, our proxxi were simply our playmates. But for their part, though, they weren’t playing. They were constantly correlating the flood of neuronal data traffic through the smarticle network embedded in our bodies and matching it with our behavior.
It didn’t take long to learn a human wetware matrix, but our brains and nervous systems were still in development, and they were using our data to continuously redesign the pssi system. We were Cognix’s Guinea pigs, part and parcel of our parents’ agreement to participate in the Atopian project.
Almost all of my early childhood was spent with my proxxi—the ultimate tool in familial productivity enhancement. To us, our proxxi were our brothers and sisters, little artificial boys and girls we could play with.
This even became a primary selling feature of the program. After all, who had the cycles left over in today’s busy world to have even one child, never mind a second one? Proxxi filled this need in the market by creating a kind of digital clone of your child to act as playmate, babysitter, and educator, or even your child’s twin depending on your point of view.
The floodgates were opened near our fourth birthdays. Around this age, one by one, we were gradually given independent access to our own pssi systems. Like quick little fish, we’d disappeared over and through the worlds that our parents understood, and began venturing out into the open network. The reign of the pssi–kids in the multiverse had begun.
Before then, we’d been limited to one body, but we learned to spawn our minds simultaneously into others. This was the beginning of my journey into the discovery of distributed consciousness.
Leaning forward in my chair, I focused my mind on several key events unfolding in the worlds my consciousness was spread out into, all the while fine tuning the parameters of some phuturecasts that tied them all together. A high–dimensional correlation matrix floated through my display spaces, and I watched it growing, pulsing and fading as predictions grew or fell in their interconnectedness.
“So what do you think?” I asked.
“You know what I think,” responded Cunard, my proxxi, and I did.
While we were talking, I was holding forth on dozens of splintered conversations in other virtual worlds while keeping an eye on reports coming in from a platoon of sub–proxxi and bots out collecting and spreading data with trusted, and not trusted, parties. I could sense a coalescing cascade in the mood of billions of humans out there, and subtle shifts in the goings on in the billions more worlds they wandered about.
The timing felt about right.
Distributing my consciousness that wide and thin was tiring, and I’d been at it constantly for nearly forty hours straight, even while arguing with Willy. An aching pressure was building up behind my collective eyeballs from the lengthy act of forced concentration. The Sleep–Over tabs worked great up to a point, but I was feeling sluggish after a long week. It was just beginning to pay off as I could feel the ebb and flow of the world’s opinion around the Infinixx project. Just a little more certainty was all I needed, so I gritted my teeth, rubbed my many eyeballs and focused inwards and back outwards.
“Nancy!” someone called out, intentionally overriding my sensory dataflow using an emergency channel. The interruption jolted me and my conscious webwork partially collapsed. It was David, of course, I realized after a split second of hang time. I sighed but smiled as his face floated into view.
“C’mon Nance, come to Davey-boy. Enough is enough.”
He was smiling too, but I could see concern worrying the corners of his mouth.
“Just a little longer. I’m sorry.”
I had a splinter ghosting him but I’d lost track of it. Visions of him cooking up a storm in the kitchen floated into view as I retrieved that conscious stream. Most of my awareness was still hovering in countless minds and bodies scattered throughout dozens of worlds. I checked the pulsating high–dimensional correlation matrix one last time. Things looked good, and that was good enough for me.
I initiated a wrap to the session, and like a shockwave, streams of information flowed outwards from me into my agents across the multiverse. Collapsing my cognitive webwork, it felt like a brick was being lifted off my brain. The relief was palpable.
“All done sweetie,” I responded to David. “I’m all done now, and I have some wonderful news.”
“Great—and I have some wonderful food getting cold. C’mon back, my hard working gal,” he said playfully.
I was more than very late for dinner.
With a final flurry of gestures I released my agents to autopilot and left the rest in the care of Cunard. My workspaces faded out and the outlines of a dinner setting faded into view. I could see David had picked out a romantic setting for dinner tonight—a small fire was crackling and popping in a marble fireplace, set on each side with a dramatic arrangement of exotic flowers. In fact, the entire living room was decked out in white marble and tropical flowers tonight. Neo-classic columns graced the open terrace doors and a breeze was billowing in through satin curtains. Sea air mixed with burnt incense, and I caught a glimpse of what I was sure was the Amalfi coast through the open doors.
Italy, I thought to myself, of course. I could see where this was going. Cunard was sitting next to David at the table, and it looked like they’d been playing cards. A bottle of wine was half finished. Before I fully clipped back into my body, Cunard took me to one side in a private one-on-one channel.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I dressed you in that little black thing you love so much,” explained Cunard. “It just seemed appropriate given his state of mind, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
I looked down at my body. Sexy, if I did say so myself.
“No, that’s great Cunard, thank you very much. You can leave us now and please, pay attention to that correlation matrix and have a talk with the editors at the Financial Times. I left all the notes and instructions…”
“Go on girl,” laughed Cunard, “have a nice evening. I’ll take care of all that. Stop thinking for once.”
With that he popped out of view and I snapped firmly into my body. The clarity and immediacy of being in only one place after being splintered for so long shocked my proprioceptive sense. I felt like little bits of me wanted to scuttle into the corners to get out of the glare of hard and fast reality, or at least, this single point-of- presence.
I tried to shake it off, blinking as I did.
David was smiling intently at me. The long, richly polished table was beautifully set for dinner with gleaming silverware, glowing candles and lace embroidered napkins. With a phantom flick, the playing cards disappeared from the table, and he reached across to hold my hand. I squeezed and smiled back.
“Well, look who’s here,” he said, smiling.
“Yes, and look who’s there,” I replied, returning the smile.
He looked like some kind of Italian swashbuckler, in tight beige linen pants and a laced white cotton shirt undone almost to the waist. He was tanned today, with two-day old stubble. I laughed lightly, looking at him.
“Okay stud, give me a minute? I think I need to down a glass of wine to begin the unwinding process.”
“Your wish is my command, senorita.”
Grinning, he reached with his other hand for the glass of wine, already filled, and handed it to me.
I let go of his hand to take the glass, and brought it to my lips. An earthy Cabernet flooded my mouth, and I could feel some of my tension washing away in its spicy wake. I tossed my head back to take a big gulp, and shifted my ass forward to slouch backwards into the chair, my legs apart.
David wagged a finger in the air.
“Did you check your inVerse? Vince and Patricia both dropped in when you were busy. Vince had some odd requests…anyway, I dropped it with Cunard, and Patricia wanted to speak to you about some announcement?”
“David,” I said excitedly, “it’s time. The timing is perfect for putting Infinixx onto the stock markets.”
I knew he was in the mood for love, but I couldn’t help myself. I was practically bursting at the seams. One of the reasons I was with David was that he had an infinite patience with me, and I abused it all too often. Perhaps, though, perhaps he could sense our relationship was living on borrowed time, and he made allowances he shouldn’t have to try and keep it going.
