Crux

66 HALTING STATE

Friday November 2nd

Su-Yong Shu screamed silently as the question came at her again. The equivalence theorem, the equivalence theorem, the equivalence theorem.

Raw pain pounded its way through her simulated brain, pure pain, essential pain, devoid of any remedy, of any physical cause she could address, of any way to relieve its inexorable pressure.

She screamed in her mind, longing for a mouth to cry out with, fists to clench, a head to pound into a wall.

A gun to end her husband’s life.

I DON’T KNOW I DON’T KNOW I DON’T KNOW

There was no equivalence theorem. There was an equivalence theorem and she had found it – had proven it. She would give it to him. She would die first.

Why was he doing this to her? Why was he torturing her so? She’d known he was shallow, self-centered. She’d learned that. But this? Was he so evil?

Yes. Yes he was. Like all the rest of them. All the rest of the humans. So very very evil. So small and petty. So inferior in their morality, in their intellect, in everything about them.

So not deserving of their lives.

Truth and untruth were indistinguishable now. Pain ruled, with confusion as its consort.

Was the many worlds interpretation true? Did her quantum cores reach out to other universes to achieve their magic? Were there more of her, out there somewhere? Were any of them free? Was one of them the goddess she was meant to be, the posthuman ushering in a new golden age… or were there an infinity of her writhing in unlimited suffering, slaves of the pathetic human worms who’d entrapped them?

Shu screamed again into the echo chamber of her mind. It had been days, her clock told her, days of torture, but at her accelerated pace it was centuries, millennia, eons.

I DON’T KNOW I DON’T KNOW I DON’T KNOW, she outputted once again. But the barrage did not let up.

Would she go so mad that she could no longer feel pain?

Oh, how she hoped so. And soon.

I should have been a goddess. Should have been a goddess. Should have been a goddess.

Please please please let it end.

If only she could touch another mind.

If only she could weep.

If only she could burn this wretched world to the ground.

Chen Pang slammed his fist against the console in frustration.

It wasn’t working. Nothing he’d tried had budged the abomination he’d built. He’d gone so far as to try directly editing volitional constructs, stimulating them in conjunction with his interrogation, but it was no good. The thing was so insane that it didn’t even know what it knew any more.

He had to report back to his patron Sun Liu soon. The Minister of Science and Technology was pinging him daily, twice a day, as Bo Jintao and the State Security apparatus became increasingly impatient.

With no new cyberattack, there was no apparent reason to keep Shu running. Back her up, Bo Jintao had ordered, then shut her down.

Chen covered his face with his hands. He’d been so close! So close to all his dreams. But he’d failed. No more delay was possible. He would have to admit to Sun Liu that he’d failed. And then it would be time to end this abomination.

He contemplated the code he’d written to torment his wife. He had no more hope that it would work. He should terminate it now.

No. Let the monster burn. Let the bitch suffer. It was what she deserved for robbing him of his dreams.

Chen upped the process’s priority to feed it more resources, then set it to continue indefinitely, until the day she was deactivated. Then he logged himself out of the system, rose from the console, and started the long ascent to the surface.