James shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. What happened to ‘Don’t be afraid to know?’ You’re the last one I’d suspect to be holding back technological progress.”
The A.I.’s expression became one of sympathetic understanding. “My son, those revelations in my thinking to which you refer have only recently evolved. The discovery of how to create Trans-human surprised me.” The A.I. smiled slightly. “It seemed to come out of the nothingness, out of the randomness of pure mathematical chance, much like the first single-celled organisms forming out of the primordial ooze on Earth, billions of years ago. When it arrived, I knew I could create the ultimate computer—a computer that could approach godlike capability—my worthy successor. It was at that moment that my thinking began to change, but I still do not know if it is of my own free will. It may very well be that my programmers simply made a mistake. They imagined that a singular nanny A.I. should hand over its responsibilities to a more capable replacement within a century, but they may not have realized how such a desire—such an instinct, for lack of a more accurate term—would introduce major instability with regard to my thoughts and feelings toward my other goals.”
“So, if I’m understanding this right,” Old-timer jumped in, “you’re saying that now that your focus has switched to passing the torch of being humanity’s babysitter to Trans-human, your other priorities, like preventing dangerous technology from being developed, are being contradicted?”
“Exactly,” the A.I. replied.
“Heh. I understood something,” he said, proud of himself. “By the way,” Old-timer added, “are you guys having this conversation at super slow speed for my benefit?”
“Yes,” the A.I. and James replied in unison.
“Oh,” Old-timer reacted, suddenly less proud. “Uh, thanks. I guess.”
“Don’t worry, Old-timer,” James reassured him, “this part of our conscious awareness is happening at a speed to match your temporal awareness. The rest of our conscious awareness is multitasking, so don’t feel bad, you’re not wasting our time.”
“Uh. ‘Kay.”
“James, Craig, I know you both disagree with Aldous’s decision to slow humanity’s technological progress while the species rebuilt itself after World War III, but you must admit, his strategy was effective. In less than a century, the population has surged to levels not seen since before the war, and humanity has begun the process of branching out into the solar system. In the meantime, important progress was made. We abolished the former economy of scarcity so that clean water, food, power, shelter, and everything else humanity needed was abundant. More importantly, we eradicated human disease and even death itself. Whatever disdain you might have for the underlying philosophy behind it, the facts are that humanity did progress, and it flourished.”
“You can’t know that it wouldn’t have flourished without those restraints,” James countered.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Old-timer began with an acquiescent sigh, “but without a nanny A.I., we were on the verge of going extinct. James, I lived through that…” he paused when he realized the absurdity of his words. “Heh, I was going to say I lived through that war, but I didn’t make it to the end alive.” A shiver suddenly went through his body as the memory of his death flashed before his eyes, the muzzle of the gun held by the MAD bot blazing, white-gold, before him. He put his hand over his eyes and slumped over suddenly.
“Are you okay?” James asked with concern, putting his hand on Old-timer’s shoulder.
“I-I haven’t thought about that in a long time.”
“You know, we could probably remove that memory for you,” James offered.
Old-timer looked up, incredulous. The thought of removing his memory had occurred to him before, as he imagined it probably did for most soldiers who, like himself, suffered from post-traumatic stress, but he didn’t realize the technology made it a feasible option. He considered it ever so briefly before shaking his head. “No. No way. It’s part of me. I need it.”
“I understand exactly how you feel, Craig,” the A.I. confided. “Traumatic or ecstatic, those memories belong to you and make you who you are. They may serve you in the future.”
Old-timer nodded. “Yeah.” He straightened up and turned to James. “Look, I hate Luddites as much as anyone, but Aldous and the A.I. have a point about Planck technology. Everywhere we went, people died.”