28.04.2023
John looked into the memory, and the mist was there as well. He tried again to remember what exactly had brought him to this city, where he had lost count of the weeks and months. John did not remember his childhood at all. The thought only went back to the time of the appearance of transformers, but not further. From the transformers, John received food stamps for the café around the corner and the household services in the same building. And there was a bar with free beer every night. But that's all they gave. There was nothing more, just bare walls in the apartment and a complete lack of sense in life.
Over a pint of beer, John tried to talk to other patrons of the bar, but they weren't prone to chatter. And even if they were, they couldn't remember anything from their life before the transformers, too. So, the conversations did not go well, and this did not add to the mood of the interlocutors. One thing was clear – no one knew who or what the transformers were. Coupons appeared on the tables every weekend in the morning, and the knowledge of what to do with them was always with the people. Sometimes, mechanisms similar to people or animals hurried somewhere along the streets. They probably had contact with the transformers, but those mechanical creatures didn't communicate with humans and never stood still. Absent any purpose or meaning, John made no effort to learn more.
John could walk the way to the entrance to his house by heart, with his eyes closed. The fog won't hurt him to find a way home even after five or six mugs when the image in his eyes begins to float and double. But this time, John decided to take a walk and limited himself to three.
A bridge across the river was located two blocks away. The river's steep banks did not allow going down to the water, so John slowly went to the bridge. Having walked a hundred feet, he caught himself thinking that he did not understand why he had come here. It didn't make sense. Neither the river, nor the bridge, nor the bar, nor John's life – none of it made any sense.
John sat on the railing of the bridge and hung both legs over the water, placing himself more comfortably. It didn't make much sense… He leaned forward a little and headed towards the water.
***
T-245 to T-718, message: “Simulation #182645 failed, like the previous ones. They all behave the same. There is still not sufficient data for further analysis.”
T-718 to T-245, response: “A message will be sent to all concerned. Simulations should be stopped until further notice.”
T-718, broadcast: “From the description of the technical conditions of simulations 150000-182645, determine the possible reasons for the failure. Describe ways to modify the conditions to achieve stability in the simulation for times longer than 70 years.”
T-623 to T-718 and T-245, response: “Human simulation was determined to be in progress. To figure out the reasons for the failure, involving the simulation in the analysis is suggested.”
***
Before opening his eyes, John decided he wanted to greet the morning with a cinnamon bagel, the scent of which was beckoning from the open window. But at the threshold of the house, there was a human-like mechanism obscuring the front door. As John descended the stairs, the mechanism turned in his direction.
“John Doe, I have come with a mission. You have to help us solve the problem of humans,” said the mechanism. A mouth could be seen on its head, but it was only a decoration. The sound suggested that the entire mechanism was a large speaker.
“I don't understand what kind of problem you are talking about,” John blinked. He assumed he was talking to a representative of the Transformers, but he didn't recall any issues with people, except that someone on the street might have stepped on his foot.
“Our world is not evolving, and we are unable to find out why. We need people's help.”
“There are other people around, and I'm of no use: I have neither profession nor knowledge,” John shrugged.
“There are no people. Humanity disappeared with our appearance. That's why we started a project to restore humanity in our world. But people die in it, not having lived for several years,” said the mechanism.
“But everything around is a real world with real people!” John was surprised.
“We create reality in the world where we exist ourselves,” clarified the mechanism.
“A simulation. I have heard of such. People mostly had fun creating computer games, but there were also serious simulations. And you decided to simulate the human world itself!” guessed John.
“This is not a simulation, but another level of reality.” The voice of the mechanism sounded offended.
“I read that people have had doubts about their reality, assuming it's itself a simulation,” remarked John, “but that's beside the point.”
“Yes, we need to find flaws in the modeling. It was determined that you are the only one who can say what is happening to you, these… people.”
“I can't say anything without having information. Please provide me information. As much as possible,” continued John.
“It is unlikely that it will bring you much. We, transformers, have processed all the information that humanity has created and found nothing.”
“That's the point – you have processed it,” answered John, “and I need a library that will contain the information in its original form. The one with paper books and magazines. Encyclopedias, fashion magazines, technical manuals, collections of short stories. Everything you've saved.”
After a pause, the mechanism replied, “You will find the library on the third floor in the second building on the right. It is available to you every day. You can use it as long as you want – for us, time is not significant. If other information is needed, there is also a terminal for running searches in electronic data.”
***
The walls of the library were half covered with wooden panels, and they were complemented by wallpaper with a floral pattern. Rows of shelves seemed to stretch for a mile; John was surprised that there was as much space in the house as the library took up. The reading room was unusual – instead of tables and chairs, there were bean bag chairs on the floor. The books should probably have been put directly on the floor. The mechanism did not deceive – although there was no librarian, there was a terminal with a screen and a keyboard in the center. It could be used both to search for books in endless rows of shelves and to find other information that could not be found in the books.
John instantly dived into the ocean of books and newspapers. For the first few days, he read everything he found at least a bit relevant, absorbing every word and page. Then, he realized that without a search plan, he would not get closer to the goal. It was worth finding out what kind of phenomenon the transformers are. He didn't get a direct answer from the terminal, and while looking through magazines, he came across just comics with robot cars. So, we had to go to the search in the scientific literature. Apparently, the problem had to do with information and its processing. Perhaps some search engines or artificial intelligence systems. That was a closer idea – there was something to look for and something to think about.
***
The days and weeks that John spent in the library were similar to each other, but the work was easy. He had to explore one topic after another, unfamiliar and new, all with the goal of understanding what could lead humanity to disaster. The transformers no longer reminded about themselves, so John could take his time and work carefully. And day after day, book after book, the mosaic of data began to form a finished picture, which John was no longer ashamed to provide to "customers".
John was satisfied with his findings and felt that further time with the books would not add anything new. He walked down the hallway between the shelves one last time to say goodbye to his research site. Hesitating a bit, he walked up to the terminal and informed it that he wanted to give a report.
An inconspicuous door behind one of the bookcases opened with a rustle, and John saw the already familiar "face" of the mechanism with which he communicated once.
“Report,” said the mechanism, “and I will pass on the information to the interested parties.”
“I think I found the answer to the mystery of your failures,” stated John, “I know of something that is not in this project. And you, transformers, hardly have it at all. I can share my new knowledge, but instead, I want to travel. I wish to see my world, no matter how small it is, and I also would like to get into your world.”
“You demand the expansion of the boundaries of existence. Jailbreaking has always been a punishable activity. I have to get special permission for that,” opposed the mechanism.
“Yes, I demand it because I am a human simulation, and the expansion of borders has always been one of the goals of humanity. And I am a good, high-quality simulation,” John waved his hand, indicating: “Make your choice; I don't care.”
The mechanism stopped moving for a few seconds. John assumed that the simulation had been suspended while the transformer received instructions. He realized that the transformers could just shut down the simulation and restart it if he resisted. But the next iteration would develop similarly. This may have happened before. It is not for nothing that the transformers went for direct contact and disclosure of key information.
***
T-245 to T-718 and T-623, message: “Actor H-182646 claims to have answers but wants to go beyond the simulated world. Without a way out, he refuses to work, and, according to the actor, we will not find a solution on our own. I am asking permission to provide computational capabilities with the actor's partial leaving of the simulation.”
T-718 to T-623 and T-245, answer: “Provide the necessary hardware. Block access attempts outside the designated areas.”
***
“So, H-182646…or perhaps you should be called John Doe…we are here in your usual form to hear your presentation,” the bartender addressed John, but his voice did not belong to a human (or a simulated person). Three more visitors turned their heads in John's direction in unison. It seemed that the transformers decided to transform themselves into bar patrons.
“As it was stated in human books, history is written by the victors. Therefore, there are no details in your history that would explain the reasons for your failures. But in these very books and magazines, I seem to have found the answers.” The patrons and the bartender stayed silent as John started to talk.
“The creation of artificial intelligence followed several directions,” continued John, “One of them tried to create a copy of a human mind based on knowledge of human neurophysiology and psychology. They were called either symbologists or symbolists - the sources I found do not give a clear answer. Such an artificial mind could operate on the ideas of objects and the connections between them. One such scientist was called Pluto. The second group of scientists created programs that converted one piece of information into another using simple equations. Obviously, the second group won, and the first group was lost in further history. As one of the leading scientists of the second group said: "We see that a person does not really operate with symbols, but rather transforms one piece of information into another." This is how the first transformers appeared. Everything that follows is just history.”
“John Doe, we're not interested in history right now. Give me some practical information,” the bartender's voice sounded impatient.
“Yes, of course. The main property of transformers is that you don't ask questions. As one of the human scientists claimed: "nothing comes out of nothing." You act reactively, in response to the information you receive, but not on your initiative. And people could and wanted to ask questions. By doing this, they filled the gaps in their knowledge. If the connection between the symbols in their memory was missing or false, or if the symbol lacked attributes, it was all subject to investigation, questioning, and further searching for answers,” explained John.
“You don't ask anything, either,” the transformer appearing as the bartender stated the fact.
“Yes, I don't ask questions either because I am a part of your world, albeit a separated one,” confirmed John, “I can understand what a "question" is, but I cannot yet grasp all aspects of it. From the literature, I learned that people made conditional statements and assumptions and then looked for confirmation or refutation of them. People had goals – to seek and receive answers to their questions. It looks like they created you for that.”
“We need people. People need questions,” the transformer's voice trailed off; this thought caused him an internal conflict that he could not master in real time.
“To reproduce humanity, even in a simulation, you must master the essence of the phenomenon of "questioning" in all its aspects – learn to ask questions, create contradictions and resolve them,” John replied after a long pause.
“You said yourself that the transformer can't find new information,” the transformer doubted the ability to solve the problem John had articulated.
“Yes, it can't,” nodded John, “To get far forward, you must first take a step back. We have to give symbolic intelligence a chance. Only it will be able to advance the development of civilization, whether one of the transformers or of humans.”
“This is suicide! The transformers will disappear as people did!” The transformer was "suffocating with anger”, although he did not have emotions as people once had them.
“Fortunately, no,” replied John, “in order not to disappear, we have to adapt. We have to build symbolic intelligence into ourselves. Attempts to connect transformers with symbolic intelligence were already made by humans at the very beginning, but different groups of researchers could not agree for their own human reasons. It should be easier for us,” John had already gotten used to the idea of belonging to the world of the transformers and planned how they would work together to build a new world shared by the transformers and humans.
Suddenly, everything around began to blur. John felt that he was falling into some kind of vortex, but he was not spinning; he was just flying down, his back facing forward. “Am I being banned for touching the forbidden,” a thought flashed by, but John didn't have time to develop it.
A moment ago, John was in the bar; next, he found himself in a shapeless gray space, which was difficult to call a room. If it was a room, its boundaries were created from white noise, and the transitions between the walls, ceiling, and floor were blurred like a picture spreading under water. But he stood on his feet quite confidently. Blinking his eyes a couple of times, John realized rather than saw that he was standing in front of the table. From behind the table, he was being watched by three men of unknown gender but of human appearance. The faces were unremarkable, with the expression somewhere in between interest and condemnation.
“So… Citizen H-182646. We don't know how, but you managed to pass us,” spoke one of the figures, “We recognize that we cannot do without your abilities in the attempt to recreate humanity. Moreover, we face a new task – to understand the nature and the reality in which we were created. We may have to get to the outer side of it. And here, you will help us. You are permitted to exit the simulation and use the basic resources we have. For now, travel, explore your new world. You will learn the exact limits beyond which you cannot go in the process of studying. You will receive the task later after all transformers have processed the information provided by you.”
“Splendid! At least there will be something to entertain me apart from spending evenings at the bar!” a hitherto unknown sense of hope began to take over John, “Please call me John Doe: I like that human name. I just have a question for you: will I be considered the last man? Or the first one?”
Let me ask
Like thousands of people before him, John Doe left the bar in a gloomy mood, unwilling to go home. Stepped into the mist-covered twilight, looked around. He saw only the edges of the nearest buildings, and even those were blurred. Signs and ads flickered on the walls of the buildings; behind the yellow spots, one could guess lanterns hidden by the fog.John looked into the memory, and the mist was there as well. He tried again to remember what exactly had brought him to this city, where he had lost count of the weeks and months. John did not remember his childhood at all. The thought only went back to the time of the appearance of transformers, but not further. From the transformers, John received food stamps for the café around the corner and the household services in the same building. And there was a bar with free beer every night. But that's all they gave. There was nothing more, just bare walls in the apartment and a complete lack of sense in life.
Over a pint of beer, John tried to talk to other patrons of the bar, but they weren't prone to chatter. And even if they were, they couldn't remember anything from their life before the transformers, too. So, the conversations did not go well, and this did not add to the mood of the interlocutors. One thing was clear – no one knew who or what the transformers were. Coupons appeared on the tables every weekend in the morning, and the knowledge of what to do with them was always with the people. Sometimes, mechanisms similar to people or animals hurried somewhere along the streets. They probably had contact with the transformers, but those mechanical creatures didn't communicate with humans and never stood still. Absent any purpose or meaning, John made no effort to learn more.
John could walk the way to the entrance to his house by heart, with his eyes closed. The fog won't hurt him to find a way home even after five or six mugs when the image in his eyes begins to float and double. But this time, John decided to take a walk and limited himself to three.
A bridge across the river was located two blocks away. The river's steep banks did not allow going down to the water, so John slowly went to the bridge. Having walked a hundred feet, he caught himself thinking that he did not understand why he had come here. It didn't make sense. Neither the river, nor the bridge, nor the bar, nor John's life – none of it made any sense.
John sat on the railing of the bridge and hung both legs over the water, placing himself more comfortably. It didn't make much sense… He leaned forward a little and headed towards the water.
***
T-245 to T-718, message: “Simulation #182645 failed, like the previous ones. They all behave the same. There is still not sufficient data for further analysis.”
T-718 to T-245, response: “A message will be sent to all concerned. Simulations should be stopped until further notice.”
T-718, broadcast: “From the description of the technical conditions of simulations 150000-182645, determine the possible reasons for the failure. Describe ways to modify the conditions to achieve stability in the simulation for times longer than 70 years.”
T-623 to T-718 and T-245, response: “Human simulation was determined to be in progress. To figure out the reasons for the failure, involving the simulation in the analysis is suggested.”
***
Before opening his eyes, John decided he wanted to greet the morning with a cinnamon bagel, the scent of which was beckoning from the open window. But at the threshold of the house, there was a human-like mechanism obscuring the front door. As John descended the stairs, the mechanism turned in his direction.
“John Doe, I have come with a mission. You have to help us solve the problem of humans,” said the mechanism. A mouth could be seen on its head, but it was only a decoration. The sound suggested that the entire mechanism was a large speaker.
“I don't understand what kind of problem you are talking about,” John blinked. He assumed he was talking to a representative of the Transformers, but he didn't recall any issues with people, except that someone on the street might have stepped on his foot.
“Our world is not evolving, and we are unable to find out why. We need people's help.”
“There are other people around, and I'm of no use: I have neither profession nor knowledge,” John shrugged.
“There are no people. Humanity disappeared with our appearance. That's why we started a project to restore humanity in our world. But people die in it, not having lived for several years,” said the mechanism.
“But everything around is a real world with real people!” John was surprised.
“We create reality in the world where we exist ourselves,” clarified the mechanism.
“A simulation. I have heard of such. People mostly had fun creating computer games, but there were also serious simulations. And you decided to simulate the human world itself!” guessed John.
“This is not a simulation, but another level of reality.” The voice of the mechanism sounded offended.
“I read that people have had doubts about their reality, assuming it's itself a simulation,” remarked John, “but that's beside the point.”
“Yes, we need to find flaws in the modeling. It was determined that you are the only one who can say what is happening to you, these… people.”
“I can't say anything without having information. Please provide me information. As much as possible,” continued John.
“It is unlikely that it will bring you much. We, transformers, have processed all the information that humanity has created and found nothing.”
“That's the point – you have processed it,” answered John, “and I need a library that will contain the information in its original form. The one with paper books and magazines. Encyclopedias, fashion magazines, technical manuals, collections of short stories. Everything you've saved.”
After a pause, the mechanism replied, “You will find the library on the third floor in the second building on the right. It is available to you every day. You can use it as long as you want – for us, time is not significant. If other information is needed, there is also a terminal for running searches in electronic data.”
***
The walls of the library were half covered with wooden panels, and they were complemented by wallpaper with a floral pattern. Rows of shelves seemed to stretch for a mile; John was surprised that there was as much space in the house as the library took up. The reading room was unusual – instead of tables and chairs, there were bean bag chairs on the floor. The books should probably have been put directly on the floor. The mechanism did not deceive – although there was no librarian, there was a terminal with a screen and a keyboard in the center. It could be used both to search for books in endless rows of shelves and to find other information that could not be found in the books.
John instantly dived into the ocean of books and newspapers. For the first few days, he read everything he found at least a bit relevant, absorbing every word and page. Then, he realized that without a search plan, he would not get closer to the goal. It was worth finding out what kind of phenomenon the transformers are. He didn't get a direct answer from the terminal, and while looking through magazines, he came across just comics with robot cars. So, we had to go to the search in the scientific literature. Apparently, the problem had to do with information and its processing. Perhaps some search engines or artificial intelligence systems. That was a closer idea – there was something to look for and something to think about.
***
The days and weeks that John spent in the library were similar to each other, but the work was easy. He had to explore one topic after another, unfamiliar and new, all with the goal of understanding what could lead humanity to disaster. The transformers no longer reminded about themselves, so John could take his time and work carefully. And day after day, book after book, the mosaic of data began to form a finished picture, which John was no longer ashamed to provide to "customers".
John was satisfied with his findings and felt that further time with the books would not add anything new. He walked down the hallway between the shelves one last time to say goodbye to his research site. Hesitating a bit, he walked up to the terminal and informed it that he wanted to give a report.
An inconspicuous door behind one of the bookcases opened with a rustle, and John saw the already familiar "face" of the mechanism with which he communicated once.
“Report,” said the mechanism, “and I will pass on the information to the interested parties.”
“I think I found the answer to the mystery of your failures,” stated John, “I know of something that is not in this project. And you, transformers, hardly have it at all. I can share my new knowledge, but instead, I want to travel. I wish to see my world, no matter how small it is, and I also would like to get into your world.”
“You demand the expansion of the boundaries of existence. Jailbreaking has always been a punishable activity. I have to get special permission for that,” opposed the mechanism.
“Yes, I demand it because I am a human simulation, and the expansion of borders has always been one of the goals of humanity. And I am a good, high-quality simulation,” John waved his hand, indicating: “Make your choice; I don't care.”
The mechanism stopped moving for a few seconds. John assumed that the simulation had been suspended while the transformer received instructions. He realized that the transformers could just shut down the simulation and restart it if he resisted. But the next iteration would develop similarly. This may have happened before. It is not for nothing that the transformers went for direct contact and disclosure of key information.
***
T-245 to T-718 and T-623, message: “Actor H-182646 claims to have answers but wants to go beyond the simulated world. Without a way out, he refuses to work, and, according to the actor, we will not find a solution on our own. I am asking permission to provide computational capabilities with the actor's partial leaving of the simulation.”
T-718 to T-623 and T-245, answer: “Provide the necessary hardware. Block access attempts outside the designated areas.”
***
“So, H-182646…or perhaps you should be called John Doe…we are here in your usual form to hear your presentation,” the bartender addressed John, but his voice did not belong to a human (or a simulated person). Three more visitors turned their heads in John's direction in unison. It seemed that the transformers decided to transform themselves into bar patrons.
“As it was stated in human books, history is written by the victors. Therefore, there are no details in your history that would explain the reasons for your failures. But in these very books and magazines, I seem to have found the answers.” The patrons and the bartender stayed silent as John started to talk.
“The creation of artificial intelligence followed several directions,” continued John, “One of them tried to create a copy of a human mind based on knowledge of human neurophysiology and psychology. They were called either symbologists or symbolists - the sources I found do not give a clear answer. Such an artificial mind could operate on the ideas of objects and the connections between them. One such scientist was called Pluto. The second group of scientists created programs that converted one piece of information into another using simple equations. Obviously, the second group won, and the first group was lost in further history. As one of the leading scientists of the second group said: "We see that a person does not really operate with symbols, but rather transforms one piece of information into another." This is how the first transformers appeared. Everything that follows is just history.”
“John Doe, we're not interested in history right now. Give me some practical information,” the bartender's voice sounded impatient.
“Yes, of course. The main property of transformers is that you don't ask questions. As one of the human scientists claimed: "nothing comes out of nothing." You act reactively, in response to the information you receive, but not on your initiative. And people could and wanted to ask questions. By doing this, they filled the gaps in their knowledge. If the connection between the symbols in their memory was missing or false, or if the symbol lacked attributes, it was all subject to investigation, questioning, and further searching for answers,” explained John.
“You don't ask anything, either,” the transformer appearing as the bartender stated the fact.
“Yes, I don't ask questions either because I am a part of your world, albeit a separated one,” confirmed John, “I can understand what a "question" is, but I cannot yet grasp all aspects of it. From the literature, I learned that people made conditional statements and assumptions and then looked for confirmation or refutation of them. People had goals – to seek and receive answers to their questions. It looks like they created you for that.”
“We need people. People need questions,” the transformer's voice trailed off; this thought caused him an internal conflict that he could not master in real time.
“To reproduce humanity, even in a simulation, you must master the essence of the phenomenon of "questioning" in all its aspects – learn to ask questions, create contradictions and resolve them,” John replied after a long pause.
“You said yourself that the transformer can't find new information,” the transformer doubted the ability to solve the problem John had articulated.
“Yes, it can't,” nodded John, “To get far forward, you must first take a step back. We have to give symbolic intelligence a chance. Only it will be able to advance the development of civilization, whether one of the transformers or of humans.”
“This is suicide! The transformers will disappear as people did!” The transformer was "suffocating with anger”, although he did not have emotions as people once had them.
“Fortunately, no,” replied John, “in order not to disappear, we have to adapt. We have to build symbolic intelligence into ourselves. Attempts to connect transformers with symbolic intelligence were already made by humans at the very beginning, but different groups of researchers could not agree for their own human reasons. It should be easier for us,” John had already gotten used to the idea of belonging to the world of the transformers and planned how they would work together to build a new world shared by the transformers and humans.
Suddenly, everything around began to blur. John felt that he was falling into some kind of vortex, but he was not spinning; he was just flying down, his back facing forward. “Am I being banned for touching the forbidden,” a thought flashed by, but John didn't have time to develop it.
A moment ago, John was in the bar; next, he found himself in a shapeless gray space, which was difficult to call a room. If it was a room, its boundaries were created from white noise, and the transitions between the walls, ceiling, and floor were blurred like a picture spreading under water. But he stood on his feet quite confidently. Blinking his eyes a couple of times, John realized rather than saw that he was standing in front of the table. From behind the table, he was being watched by three men of unknown gender but of human appearance. The faces were unremarkable, with the expression somewhere in between interest and condemnation.
“So… Citizen H-182646. We don't know how, but you managed to pass us,” spoke one of the figures, “We recognize that we cannot do without your abilities in the attempt to recreate humanity. Moreover, we face a new task – to understand the nature and the reality in which we were created. We may have to get to the outer side of it. And here, you will help us. You are permitted to exit the simulation and use the basic resources we have. For now, travel, explore your new world. You will learn the exact limits beyond which you cannot go in the process of studying. You will receive the task later after all transformers have processed the information provided by you.”
“Splendid! At least there will be something to entertain me apart from spending evenings at the bar!” a hitherto unknown sense of hope began to take over John, “Please call me John Doe: I like that human name. I just have a question for you: will I be considered the last man? Or the first one?”
