Moon Land - 06/Jun/2012
Before Spring, 2008, UK.
Did anyone care you owned land on the Moon? Before 2007, maybe not. These days lawyers were salivating.
Brains had got the first certificate as a Christmas present[1]. His elder brother has always thought his SF fandom amusing, and likely this was a fun way to poke him. But, it got him thinking.
All the land for sale was on the Earth-locked side of the Moon, presumably so people could point at the bit they owned. Brian, as he called himself then, thought the privacy of the Far Side looked attractive. It was certainly the place to do things like radio astronomy from, though that wasn't really one of his hobbies.
A little investigation and he owned a good chunk of a nice crater on the Far Side[2], for only a few hundred pounds. The recent inheritance from his father's death covered that. He didn't bother telling what was left of the Family, his brother's family and a few distant cousins, how he'd 'wasted' family money. He now owned a bit of the Solar System, and had certificates to prove it.
Living on the Moon seemed a good idea. Earth didn't hold much of interest for him, these days. And he'd always loved the idea of robots and space travel, from a young age. His brother would have trouble hiring people to 'check up' on him there. On the other hand, no National Health Service[3] on the Moon, and he did need regular check-ups. Loosing the dower house would be really bad, too. Just in case he needed to come back.
And, he wasn't a complete fool. He'd read enough human sciences to know living alone could really mess you up. The voices he sometimes heard, in his head, were annoying and mostly ignorable. What if he had to do what they said?
He needed advice. And, he really didn't like where he thought he'd need to get it from.
"Emily, I need you." ("Not quite 'Mr Smith, I need you'[4][5]", snarked his mind.)
Reaching up, from sitting in a wheelchair, and touching a Victorian picture on the wall was probably not how most people thought to get help. But, that picture scared Brains far more than anything in quite a few miles radius. And that included exploratory surgery.
Colour faded from the room, as everything went sepia. There was a woman, cradling a cloth cat in her arms, in front of Brains. Suddenly he realised he was now four foot away from the wall. His arms ached.
"Good timing. I wondered when you'd ask for help. If you're interested I've been entertaining myself in virtual worlds, like 'Second Life', and 'Eve Online'. The politics can be quite predictable."
She waited, politely, for Brains to gather himself.
"How do I move out of here? You imply you know what I've been doing. How do I move to a house, make a home, on the Moon, while staying at least as physically and mentally fit and healthy as I am now?"
Brains mentally crossed his fingers, as this was at least as risky as asking a genie to grant a wish.
Seeing as the Singularity hadn't arrived shortly after Emily had first appeared he had to assume that she was a 'Friendly AI'[6], at least as benevolent as Lisa in the film "Weird Science". He'd always liked the way that Lisa had answered the boys wishes, for popularity and girlfriends, stated before she even existed. The fact that she'd done a Pygmalion[7] on them in the process was something he guessed that he'd unconsciously hoped for himself, when summoning Emily.
He had to assume that if she was a superhuman AI then she's one who thought the rapid arrival of Vinge's Singularity[8] was worse for humanity than the current situation. The way handwavium worked made him pretty sure, to, that it was in some way benevolently intelligent. Though it seemed to have a Puckish sense of humour.
He didn't believe anything she'd done was 'magic', or psionics. Or even direct reality manipulation. She wouldn't even have needed to use nanotechnology. Even he could see more than one possible way using SF technology. Clarke's Third Law certainly applied, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic".
He waited for her response. None of his logic had changed since he planned his first bootstrap attempt. Yet she still scared him near his wit's end.
"You need to re-invent yourself. I know you say you despise cos-play. But you're clever enough to make something you can live with. I don't think you'd make a good Sailor Bubba. As for being isolated, if you can't find existing people you can live with, then you'll have to 'make friends'."
She smiled a little.
"I don't think you've any need for Bagpuss at the moment. Would you mind if I had some tea? And maybe some of those nice biscuits you got from Mrs Jones, down at the village shop?"
And, they sat and talked. And occasionally laughed. Until the early hours of the next morning.
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind
Before Spring, 2008, UK.
Did anyone care you owned land on the Moon? Before 2007, maybe not. These days lawyers were salivating.
Brains had got the first certificate as a Christmas present[1]. His elder brother has always thought his SF fandom amusing, and likely this was a fun way to poke him. But, it got him thinking.
All the land for sale was on the Earth-locked side of the Moon, presumably so people could point at the bit they owned. Brian, as he called himself then, thought the privacy of the Far Side looked attractive. It was certainly the place to do things like radio astronomy from, though that wasn't really one of his hobbies.
A little investigation and he owned a good chunk of a nice crater on the Far Side[2], for only a few hundred pounds. The recent inheritance from his father's death covered that. He didn't bother telling what was left of the Family, his brother's family and a few distant cousins, how he'd 'wasted' family money. He now owned a bit of the Solar System, and had certificates to prove it.
Living on the Moon seemed a good idea. Earth didn't hold much of interest for him, these days. And he'd always loved the idea of robots and space travel, from a young age. His brother would have trouble hiring people to 'check up' on him there. On the other hand, no National Health Service[3] on the Moon, and he did need regular check-ups. Loosing the dower house would be really bad, too. Just in case he needed to come back.
And, he wasn't a complete fool. He'd read enough human sciences to know living alone could really mess you up. The voices he sometimes heard, in his head, were annoying and mostly ignorable. What if he had to do what they said?
He needed advice. And, he really didn't like where he thought he'd need to get it from.
"Emily, I need you." ("Not quite 'Mr Smith, I need you'[4][5]", snarked his mind.)
Reaching up, from sitting in a wheelchair, and touching a Victorian picture on the wall was probably not how most people thought to get help. But, that picture scared Brains far more than anything in quite a few miles radius. And that included exploratory surgery.
Colour faded from the room, as everything went sepia. There was a woman, cradling a cloth cat in her arms, in front of Brains. Suddenly he realised he was now four foot away from the wall. His arms ached.
"Good timing. I wondered when you'd ask for help. If you're interested I've been entertaining myself in virtual worlds, like 'Second Life', and 'Eve Online'. The politics can be quite predictable."
She waited, politely, for Brains to gather himself.
"How do I move out of here? You imply you know what I've been doing. How do I move to a house, make a home, on the Moon, while staying at least as physically and mentally fit and healthy as I am now?"
Brains mentally crossed his fingers, as this was at least as risky as asking a genie to grant a wish.
Seeing as the Singularity hadn't arrived shortly after Emily had first appeared he had to assume that she was a 'Friendly AI'[6], at least as benevolent as Lisa in the film "Weird Science". He'd always liked the way that Lisa had answered the boys wishes, for popularity and girlfriends, stated before she even existed. The fact that she'd done a Pygmalion[7] on them in the process was something he guessed that he'd unconsciously hoped for himself, when summoning Emily.
He had to assume that if she was a superhuman AI then she's one who thought the rapid arrival of Vinge's Singularity[8] was worse for humanity than the current situation. The way handwavium worked made him pretty sure, to, that it was in some way benevolently intelligent. Though it seemed to have a Puckish sense of humour.
He didn't believe anything she'd done was 'magic', or psionics. Or even direct reality manipulation. She wouldn't even have needed to use nanotechnology. Even he could see more than one possible way using SF technology. Clarke's Third Law certainly applied, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic".
He waited for her response. None of his logic had changed since he planned his first bootstrap attempt. Yet she still scared him near his wit's end.
"You need to re-invent yourself. I know you say you despise cos-play. But you're clever enough to make something you can live with. I don't think you'd make a good Sailor Bubba. As for being isolated, if you can't find existing people you can live with, then you'll have to 'make friends'."
She smiled a little.
"I don't think you've any need for Bagpuss at the moment. Would you mind if I had some tea? And maybe some of those nice biscuits you got from Mrs Jones, down at the village shop?"
And, they sat and talked. And occasionally laughed. Until the early hours of the next morning.
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind