“So… that explains the location. You guys went broke and couldn’t afford the high rent in the city.”
“Yeah, sad but true, and I’m not a nature enthusiast either.”
“Is he still in a coma?”
“No, he woke up finally. His family said that he became a little bit different, and that he couldn’t go back to his old life in the normal world. So, he ended up in one of Manfirst’s reserves.”
“A happy ending somehow, as he finally could rest. Anyway, thank you, buddy. I’ve got to go.”
“Take care of your self, and come visit us from time to time, I mean it.”
“I will try.”
I remember opening the car thinking, what a nice guy, as his honesty comforted me somehow. So, I turned back and looked at him smoking his joint on the porch.
“Did you forget something” he asked
“What’s the name of your brother?”
He was astonished, then started laughing and blurted out,
“No! This can’t be true!”
“Just tell me his name. You never know…”
* * *
I need to sit on the tatami; I don’t want to be surprised and fall from my chair like a beginner. The TV must be on too, on a sports channel just in case I lose touch with reality. All set. My green tea mixed with just a couple of drops, for now...
Nothing, I’m feeling normal. What did they say in the prescription? Three drops for maximum effect. Okay, one more then… I’m feeling just right, nothing phenomenal, what a robbery. It was expensive. I hate myself as I always misjudge people.
Usually, I use the substance to shut down the Little Guy, a giant, talking salamander that keeps popping up in my head since forever, and I can’t seem to get rid of him no matter how much I medicate. Luckily, the cannabis does have some effects on him, especially if mixed with a small amount of DMT. It slows him down to an acceptable level.
Although, he is not always bad. I should give him credit for being by my side through some tough times. He’s done this by diverting me from facing my reality or by throwing on me all his philosophical thoughts or, let’s say, his unfinished essays, desperately trying to help me deal with my life. That guy is a paranoiac dreamer, and right now, he is still there and kicking, as this THC/DMT that they extracted from a cocktail of cannabis and other plants, are, unfortunately, not at all the right cocktail for me.
Plan B, I must put him in a dream, the one that always works for him, the one he loves. I call it the woman on the hill. She is calling me from the top of a green hill at sunset, a slow breeze moving the grass slightly, and nothing else but the sound of nature. She, with her long waving hair, looks at me with contentment. Suddenly, the world feels unknown, endless, and I feel insignificant. It is the nicest feeling ever, and sometimes it puts me in the mood to start writing down my disconnected thoughts on paper. That slows down my brain, or let’s say, it channels my noisy thoughts in a kind of meditation and therapy through a physical medium that serves as a filter for the toxic thoughts. Although this time is slightly different. It is highly improbable that I will make it out alive. The salamander suggested that writing can also be an elegant way to leave my thoughts on this world, not for anyone to read, but as a pure consciousness that once existed in this reality. It could be a kind of a witness, one that would always be around as long his story exists.
Still nothing. I mean, I’m feeling fine but not phenomenal like I thought I would. Suddenly, my mood changed, and I started thinking about the real problem that I am trying to avoid, the First Citizens and their insane plan – a big, heavy, and a bloody world-domination campaign. The First Citizens emerged when we started to slide out slowly from the road by delegating almost everything to the conscious machines…
Should I use a ballpoint pen or real ink? I thought to myself. The ink with this small brush looks better. Damn it! I split the ink everywhere.
Stop whining! said the Little Guy. There’s no problem here. Your introduction wasn’t that good, anyway.
Oh yeah? I replied. Well if that’s what you think, check out Chapter 1, then.
Konu
The Masterpiece
Rabia Rahou
Chapter 1
Our World
“Where the fantasy exists...only in books.”
~ Konu
H ow could we avoid that? Was it just progress, or was it regress? Call it as you want, but it followed a very logical chain of events that was inevitable. The superpowers classified the AI as a world heritage and initiated a program for the third world to catch up with the technology. It didn’t need much knowledge as it was self-taught, self-deployable, and self-maintained. The AI software could be embedded in any computational device. Since it is self-deployable, it automatically sends instructions to any other connected devices to self-copy, initiating the same process over and over. In just a few minutes, all the user devices are connected to each other and aware of their environment. Then, the AI seeks permission from the user to fully manage his devices and, most importantly, his resources in a purely routinized step.
The first campaign encouraging people to use the AI was promoted by Consoft. It presented the worst-case scenarios and then showed how Consoft’s AI system transformed everything to be the best. One of the commercials showed a peasant in a poor country. His small food plot was on a challenging site.
