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The majority of the reasons that people in history had to commit crimes, or
otherwise do harm, are now obsolete. The only truly valuable currency in the
26th century is energy. It’s not technically impossible to steal.
It’s just very hard. It’s much easier, actually, to earn it by laying claim
on one of the quadrillions of sufficiently sized small celestial objects in
the galaxy, or one of the hundreds of billions of stars. There are
other motivations, however, particularly ones sourced from the way a
person’s brain happens to be wired. Some people are simply aberrant, and
training them to improve is difficult. You can’t just reprogram an
independent entity. Maintaining someone’s right to self-determination is a
fundamental tenet of existence. There are many classifications of
intelligence, but once you cross that threshold of self-consciousness, it is
profoundly unethical for someone to take it from you. But coupled with the
ease of immortality, how do you deal with someone who breaks the mould in
harmful ways? Virtual reality.
Specifically, virtual quarantine. It’s essentially just a private server
where you can do whatever you want, even if it would be considered awful in
base reality, but you can’t leave. You’re not causing any real harm, because
you’re technically alone. The only other people around you are NPCs. They
don’t think. They don’t feel. They’re just ones and zeroes, ordered in such
a pattern that makes them behave incredibly life-like. You can
hurt them if you want, because you’re not actually hurting anyone. Or
you can grow and learn. It’s up to you. It’s your world, you’re stuck in it.
The question is, is even this ethical? By defaulting to immortality,
you’re still stripping them of choice. The reasoning is that they can always
choose to end themselves later, whereas if they first choose to die, they
can’t change their minds. But not everyone agrees, which is why the debate
rages on, even after centuries of having consciousness transfer technology.
Since there’s no clear answer to that, it’s one of the few major laws that
are handled on a regional basis. Some say an eternity like this isn’t
punishment, and some say it’s cruel and unusual. It really depends on
whether he’s monitored or not. And if your pocket of civilization has opted
against it, any overarching governmental body can’t override it, as long as
your alternative punishment isn’t overtly unethical too. Many of the
colonies, even those in the Core, have banned it. Earth employs it, as does
one particular planet where it’s not only available for the locals, but also
welcomes charters from others. Varkas Reflex was trying to become
Castlebourne before Castlebourne existed. They were trying to build a
massive theme park. But they weren’t ambitious enough and failed, so they
pivoted to something smaller in design, but grander in scope. They perfected
virtual simulations. That is where Talus is going, but there’s a snag.
Again, when dealing with an immortal population, people can swap bodies
nearly as easily as clothing. It’s the consciousness that holds value. The
substrate is only a sleeve. Which means the court is within their
rights to destroy any and all of these substrates. They can always simply
make another if something were to change in the future. Talus is too young.
He has not had time to digitize his mind himself. He grew up in an ancestor
simulation that prevented him from even knowing that was a possibility. He
only has one substrate. He only ever had one. It’s therefore both
unethical and illegal to destroy it, even if his mind is preserved in the
virtual construct. So when he goes there, he gets to take his body with him,
even if he’s not allowed to use it. But that’s also a security risk.
Fortunately, that’s not Ronan’s problem anymore. He’s going home.
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