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Renata gets up from her cot, trying to keep the squeaking to a minimum. She
leaves the room, and goes into the common area, climbing the ladder up to
the loft where Lycander is keeping watch. “Everything okay?”
“You still need sleep,” he warns her. “You were made to think like an
organic, which comes with its disadvantages, like spending a third of your
life in bed.”
“I’m not awake because I think I’m better than everyone,” Renata tries to
explain. “I’m awake because of insomnia. I suppose that was programmed into
me too.”
“Everyone is at risk of suffering from insomnia. They didn’t give it to you
on purpose. It’s likely happening because you’re struggling with some
things. I’m not a psychologist, though, so don’t listen to my advice.”
“I understand.” She stood there in silence for a moment, looking out at the
desert expanse. “So, you’re a natural-born human, right?”
“We don’t really use that term human anymore, but yes,” Lycander
replies.
“And this planet is...just a giant theme park?”
“More like tens of thousands of theme parks. Some of them are for adventure,
but some are more low-key.”
“I hear you don’t have to work anymore in the real world.”
“That is an oversimplification, but still true. If you want to live a very
comfortable, immobile life, you don’t have to contribute a single thing to
society. If you want more—if you wanna travel—you have to do something. It
doesn’t have to even be particularly valuable. You could be the absolute
worst painter in the world, but if you paint, and you put your artwork out
there for others to see, you get credits for that. If you save up enough,
you can spend it on transportation somewhere.”
“So, that’s what you did? You were on your homeworld, but you had a job, so
they let you come here?”
“They let me cast here,” he clarifies. “I’ve actually never been on a
ship before. I basically sent my mind to a new body at faster-than-light
speeds. It costs fewer credits, and it’s a lot more common.”
“You can move your mind around. So we’re all robots.”
“Like we’ve said, the distinction doesn’t hold much meaning. There are
people out there whose substrates are designed almost just like yours,
except they were born before that. No one really cares about the
differences.”
“Right.” She nods, not wanting to talk about that all again. “But you still
work. Are you trying to leave this world now? Cast again, or go on a
real ship.”
“No. I’m making credits, sure, but I’m not concerned with them. I don’t pay
much attention to my account. I work because I find it fulfilling. That’s
why they created the post-scarcity society. A lot of really smart
people worked very hard to make that happen, so people would finally have a
choice. If you want a job, you can just go get one. There is
always an opening. If it’s typically automated, they’ll have you
replace some of that automation. Even if it makes the process a little
slower or less efficient, no one’s really bothered by that, because we have
such an abundance. And if you quit, or just don’t feel like coming in one
day—or for a few months—it’s no sweat off their backs. They’ll backfill your
job with automators in your absence.”
She pushed Quidel to explain what it’s really like before, but he
insisted that everything was fine. Maybe Lycander will have a different
answer, especially since he does still work. “Sounds like a paradise. What’s
the catch?” Was that offensive?
“The catch is, there are gaps. Energy credits don’t just pay for the
transportation itself, but also materials, which is why casting is cheaper,
but it has lower overhead. Anyway, it’s not only about leaving where you
are, but building a new home somewhere else. While no one is poor in the
sense that you’re familiar with, there are definitely wealthier people.
They’re the ones who can afford to construct a centrifugal cylinder and
leave others behind...stuck. It really just depends on what your priorities
are. If you want to stay in civilization, you’ll be able to find happiness
pretty easily. Even if you go the cheaper casting route to a new planet,
you’ll be living around others, and you won’t always get a choice on who
those people are. A lot of people want that choice. They want to choose
their neighbors, or choose not to have any neighbors at all. That’s the
hardest life to achieve, because it takes a crapton of energy credits, and
while you’re saving, you’re living in a way that you probably don’t care
for. There is no such thing as an advance, and loans come with sometimes
untenable stipulations. As I was saying, my work is easy because I can
always leave. Those who need a lot of credits can’t, or they’ll never
realize their goals.”
“Energy. It’s based on energy?” Renata presses.
“That’s the only thing that matters. It’s the only thing that ever mattered.
Everything we do is in service to survival, and you can’t survive without
energy. And material to stand on, or in.”
She sort of frowned.
“What is it? What’s on your mind?”
“What happens to me when I leave? I won’t be a banker anymore. I won’t even
be a spy. How will I earn credits? Should I even try?”
“That’s up to you. As an emerging intelligence, you will be entitled to the
same basics as everyone else, including an energy stipend. That stipend is
based on your physical requirements, and cannot be lower than what you need
to be alive and conscious indefinitely. Since you started out without any
choice in life, I’m sure they will make arrangements for you to travel
anywhere you want, totally free of charge. Not everyone gets that, of
course, but the way they see it, forcing you to live where you were created
would be immoral.”
“Well, you were created at a certain place, and had to pay to leave,
didn’t you?”
“That’s different. I was born, and some of my physicality was even designed,
but my mind wasn’t designed. Yours was. I hesitate to call it
slavery, but their reasoning is, if they make you stay here, it will
lean more in that direction than before, because you now have agency.
I shouldn’t be talking about any of this. I am not an expert. Someone will
explain it to you in greater detail, and more accurately.”
“No, I appreciate it,” Renata says gratefully. “Now I have something to look
forward to. Except I have no clue if I would even want to travel. How many
other worlds are there, and what are they like?”
