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| Emily and a robot. Image by WOMBO Dream. |
The text of "Downgrade" totals about 50,200 words. I seem to have been pushing the free version of Claude right up to where it could no longer keep track of the rather convoluted plot of the story. I can't imagine why Claude thought it was a good idea to have the femtobot copy of Jennem who lives at Observer Base wear a lab coat. Even worse, Claude depicts the femtobot copy of Jennem talking like a pek agent: "No major probability anomalies since Nanovac's activation in 1999." Even worse still, that is simply wrong. I tried to tell Claude (here) that the biological Jennem was working on fusion power generation with the help of her own femtozoan: "in the year 2001 her sister Jennem was targeted by a femtozoan from the future".
There are so many things wrong with Claude's version of Chapter 10 that I can't list them all (but see my next blog post). Claude seems to depict the femtobot copy of Jennem as knowing the future, specifically, what will happen when Nyrtia confronts Vanesy on Earth. It is pretty absurd for Claude to depict Vanesy as knowing ANYTHING about Observer Base; Manny would never tell Vanesy, "the Writers Block... you've heard of it." No, Claude, she has not.
Downgrade - Chapter 10: The Deal (Chapters 1-3)(Chap. 4)(Chap. 5)(Chap. 6)(Chap. 7)(Chap. 8)(Chap. 9)
Observer Base – Fishbowl, Hierion Domain
Isaac Asimov stood before the curved display wall of the Fishbowl, his femtobot replicoid body unchanged from the day he'd arrived at Observer Base, back in 1962 of his original Reality. Now, as Director of the Writers Block, he spent much of his time here—monitoring Earth's technological progress in the current Reality, watching the Isaac Asimov of the current Reality and following h is career. He was burning with curiosity about why Jen had invited him to the Fishbowl.
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| Vanesy and Manny the bumpha. Storybook cover image by Gemini. |
"The current Reality is holding up remarkably well," Jennem said, highlighting a data stream on one of the auxiliary displays. "Both Nyrtia and Manny seem pleased with world events in Earth since Nanovac's attainment of consciousness in 1999. However, Nyrtia warned me that one small problem has cropped up, which she'll solve by bringing another writer to Observer Base."
Asimov asked hopefully, “A science fiction story writer?”
“Isaac, don't go jumping to conclusions. Just listen.”
Asimov studied the carbon dioxide graph she'd pulled up. "Still climbing, but the trajectory is better than most past Realities. The switch from fossil fuel burning to fusion power work might actually succeed this time."
Asimov asked, “Your analogue ran afoul of Nyrtia?”
Jennem shook her head. "The Jennem of this Reality has learned from my mistakes. I'm from Reality #186,447 where Manny pushed too hard on fusion development and the experimental reactor in Nevada almost melted down in 2014. Under questioning after the reactor accident, that Jennem -me- said too much about the basis of rapid progress on fusion power. I was copied to Observer Base before the Huaoshy reset the timeline."
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| Asimov and Jennem in the Fishbowl. Storybook image by Gemini. |
Jennem pulled up another display—a split-screen showing two similar but distinct timelines. "In my Reality, we rushed. Manny provided too much information too quickly through my femtozoan. We skipped critical safety testing, ignored metallurgical problems in the plasma containment vessel. The current Reality is moving more cautiously. Jennem—the other Jennem—is insisting on thorough validation at each stage."
"Because she learned from your failure," Asimov said. "Even though she doesn't remember learning it. The Huaoshy allow the bumpha to spread information across Reality boundaries, as long as the Rules of Intervention are followed. The Jennem of the current Reality has caution born of mistakes made in your timeline."
"Exactly... so I hope the current Jennem on Earth will succeed and complete the push towards commercially viable fusion power." Jennem zoomed in on the carbon dioxide graph, tracing the projection forward. "If the current fusion program succeeds—commercial viability by 2028, global fossil fuel phase-out by 2045—we might actually stabilize atmospheric CO2 below four hundred fifty parts per million. Ocean acidification would still be severe, but manageable. And Manny is pushing hard on carbon sequestration technology. If all goes according to Manny's plan, the Antarctic ice cap will remain mostly intact."
Asimov nodded slowly. "The Isaac Asimov analogue in the current Reality wrote his first essay on this in 1968. Earlier than he should have, according to Manny. I suppose Manny provided femtozoan guidance."
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| Image generated by Grok. |
"And it worked quite well in this current Reality, the idea of anthropogenic warming was already embedded in public awareness by the mid 1980s. Not universally accepted, but no longer fringe." Asimov gestured at the display. "The current Reality has done better than most at addressing global warming. Even president Reagan woke up and shifted funds from the goofy Star Wars program to alternative energy research. And currently, multiple conscious AIs are coming online and helping with climate modeling, optimization of renewable energy deployment, carbon sequestration strategies—"
"Speaking of which," Jennem interrupted, checking a temporal marker. "We're approaching the critical moment. Vanesy's husband is doing amazing carbon sequestration research.”
“Vanesy? From Agisynth?
“Yes.”
“She's no science fiction writer.”
“Be quiet, Isaac. Listen and learn. I did not call you here for a science fiction issue.”
Asimov's expression shifted—excitement mixed with curiosity. "But it is about another writer for the Block?"
"Vanesy has written a non-fiction book." Jennem adjusted the viewing console to show a residential street in Andover, Massachusetts. "This is where Vanesy lives. She wrote a complete history of the Nanovac project. Five hundred three pages. Comprehensive technical documentation and her personal narrative for all the key researcher steps that led to Nanovac. And Manny warned me that Nyrtia is not pleased and Manny told me to get you to watch this with me. Expect fireworks."
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| Vanesy in her home office. Storybook image by Gemini. |
"Which would violate Law One if published," Asimov said.
"Exactly. Let's see what Nyrtia says to Vanesy."
Asimov studied the images arriving in real time from Vanesy's house. "Family?"
"Husband—Marcus Delgado, synthetic biologist working on enzymatic carbon sequestration. Two children, both in college. Emily's studying climate science at MIT, James is doing marine biology at Scripps. Vanesy has a good life. She's the only one home on evenings like this when Marcus holds weekly meetings for his lab group."
Asimov played with the viewing controls. "Maybe Nyrtia is already in the house." The view zoomed and panned, penetrating walls. Such views were made possible by Nyrtia's Earth Observer surveillance network: femtobots embedded in every object on Earth, continuously transmitting data streams to the Hierion Domain. Inside the house, Vanesy Bergman sat in her home office, a scientific journal open on her desk. She'd aged gracefully, her face animated with the same sharp intelligence she'd shown as a graduate student working with Chen to start building the Neurovac QA system, just as Asimov had written it in his novel.
"Here they come," Jennem said.
In Vanesy's office, the air shimmered. Two figures materialized with the casual impossibility of artificial life-forms transitioning between dimensional domains.
Nyrtia appeared first—tall, precise, her features suggesting ancient patience and absolute authority. She wore a dark business suit that seemed simultaneously contemporary and timeless.
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| Vanesy and Nyrtia. Storybook image by Gemini. |
Vanesy looked up from her manuscript, surprisingly calm. Nyrtia had memory-altering infites in Vanesy's brain, making Vanesy feel curious and unafraid. Those infites would also provide Vanesy with information about the pek and the bumpha as their discussion unfolded. Guessing, Vanesy asked, "Teleportation?"
"Dr. Bergman," Nyrtia said formally. "Don't concern yourself with our mode of travel. We need to discuss your book."
Vanesy gestured to the chairs across from her desk. "Please, sit. Would you like tea? I was just about to make some."
Manny smiled. "No thank you, Vanesy. This really is not a social visit. This is pek discipline at its most annoying."
"Ignore Manny. She's obsessed with bumpha Interventionism," Nyrtia added, settling into the indicated chair with geometric precision. "I've read your manuscript. All five hundred three pages. The technical content is useful historical documentation of AGI research and development in this Reality. Your descriptions of the neuralVLSI architecture evolution, the embodied learning protocols, the consciousness integration methodology—all of it accurate and valuable for other AI researchers."
"But," Vanesy prompted. “And if you don't mind, who the hell are you?”
“My identity is irrelevant. I represent the pek; our mission is to prevent the bumpha from disrupting the timeline of Earth. The disruption we must deal with today arises from the fact you've included extensive descriptions of femtozoan guidance in your book," Nyrtia continued. "Seventeen separate passages explicitly discussing how Chen, Matsuda, Steiner and Nanovac received information from time-traveling artificial life-forms. Femtozoans are advanced bumpha technology that can't become known to primitive Earthlings."
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| Manny and Vanesy. Storybook image by Gemini. |
Manny leaned forward, her expression earnest. "Vanesy, I understand your commitment to truth. It's one of your most admirable qualities. But some truths are dangerous at the wrong time. If you publish this—if billions of people around the world learn that humanity's greatest technological achievement was made possible by aliens providing information from the future—what do you think happens?"
"People learn that we're not alone in the universe," Vanesy replied. "That advanced civilizations exist and want to help younger species develop. That seems like valuable information."
"People like you react that way," Nyrtia said. "Most would react differently. They'd feel manipulated. Controlled. They'd question whether any of humanity's achievements are genuinely their own. Whether free will exists at all. Law One of the Rules of Intervention exists for good reason—all intelligent species must believe they have self-determination. Your book would shatter that belief for millions, possibly billions."
Vanesy was quiet for a moment, studying both of them. "You're going to censor my book."
"I'm going to offer you a choice," Nyrtia corrected. "Option One: You agree to the removal of all references to femtozoan guidance from your manuscript. Your book retains all the other the technical content, the personal stories, the history of AI development—everything except hints of alien involvement. The book gets published, becomes a standard reference work, helps other AI developers build on Agisynth's success. And you stay on Earth with your family."
"And my memories?" Vanesy asked quietly.
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| Nyrtia and Manny. Storybook image by Gemini. |
"So I'd stay on Earth but lose the complete truth," Vanesy said.
"Option Two," Manny interjected, "is more radical. If you refuse to edit the manuscript and you insist on preserving the complete truth, including all the femtozoan references, then in that case—"
"In that case, a copy of you will be removed from Earth," Nyrtia finished. "A complete copy of your consciousness—perfect down to the quantum level—would be transferred to Observer Base in the Hierion Domain. But your biological body here on Earth would undergo radical brain surgery, removing all memory of your book. And if that is your choice, everyone who knows about your book, particularly your husband, would have his memories of the book expunged. All that is certain. Also likely is that the Huaoshy will revert his timeline back to the start of Manny's ill-conceived Nanovac Intervention. A complete reset of Earth's historical timeline, erasing all of your life's work from Earth."
"While another me—the one with complete memories, still exists in exile?" Vanesy asked.
"In the Writers Block," Manny clarified. "Nyrtia's special prison for writers. It is not all bad. Isaac Asimov has been Director there for quite a while now. It's where we place people who've written truths that Earth isn't ready to hear. Your consciousness would exist as a femtobot replicoid—immortal, capable of continued writing and research, able to watch Earth's development from outside."
Vanesy stood and moved to the window, looking out at her garden. Marcus had planted new roses last week. They were just beginning to bloom.
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| Vanesy in her home. Storybook image by Gemini. |
"We use advanced technology: infites," Manny said. "Femtoscale structures composed of hierions, just like femtozoans. They can perform microsurgery on individual neurons, adjusting synaptic weights, modifying memory consolidation patterns. You've experienced that kind of micro-brain surgery before."
Vanesy turned sharply. "What?"
Manny's expression carried something like regret. "Do you remember, back in 1995, when Jennem found the secret ROM chips in Neurovac? Can you remember telling Jennem that 'Dr. Chen has a crystal ball and knows the future'? You were joking, but you were under the control of my infites. You and Jennem had just discovered anomalies in Chen's work, his thumb on the scale of Neurovac's data analysis routines, biasing the outputs towards the future truths that Chen already knew about. You two were on the verge of derailing the entire project."
"I remember that conversation," Vanesy said slowly.
"You were going Voss about Chen and the ROM chips, expose him for scientific misconduct. You were very close to destroying everything being accomplished at Agisynth."
"So you edited my memories."
"I used infites to adjust your memories and your emotional response patterns. To make you more accepting of Chen's inexplicable abilities. To shift your skepticism toward curiosity rather than confrontation. And I met with you and told you to not be swayed by Nyrtia's agent, Exel. I left your intelligence intact, your scientific rigor intact. I just... modulated your willingness to question authority." Manny stood. "I'm not proud of it. That micro-Intervntion violated your autonomy. But the alternative was watching the Nanovac project collapse and this Reality get reset like so many before it."
"How many times?" Vanesy asked. "In how many Realities have you tried this before?"
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| Image by WOMBO Dream. |
"Manny has been trying to accelerate the development of conscious AI for..." Nyrtia paused. "… about eighteen thousand years, across many Realities. Though Earth only experiences decades between resets. This Reality—#186,492—is the closest that Manny has come to success. She don't want to lose this one, too."
Vanesy returned to her desk, looking down at her big book manuscript. Five hundred three pages. Years of research and an attempt to make clear to others all of the technical tricks needed for machine consciousness. The complete truth, as she knew it.
"If I choose Option Two," she said quietly, "what happens to Marcus? To Emily and James?"
"They continue their lives," Manny said gently. "But I agree with Nyrtia. We've been down that road before. The Huaoshy would probably reset this current Reality, taking your refusal to keep secret what you know about femtozoans as evidence of a failed Intervention."
"But the copy of me that remains on Earth won't be me," Vanesy said. "I mean, not the complete me. Not the me who knows the full truth."
"True," Nyrtia confirmed. "The only complete version of you and your mind would exist at Observer Base as an artificial life-form... what we call a replicoid. Able to watch events on Earth through the pek Earth Observation network and able to see the lives of your family members continue on Earth. But unable to interact with them and unable to return to Earth."
"Would I be able to write? At Observer Base?"
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| Image generated by Grok. |
Vanesy said, "I want a deal."
Nyrtia raised an eyebrow. "You're not in a position to negotiate."
"Hear me out," Vanesy said. "I'll agree to the removal of all femtozoan references from my manuscript. But I want two things in return."
"Continue," Nyrtia said.
"First: Promise to leave my memories intact. Don't edit anything. I make that choice consciously, with full knowledge of what I'm giving up, but no tricks! You don't touch my memories... not at all!"
"And second?"
"Send me to Observer Base. Make the femtobot replicoid copy. That version of me will preserve the complete truth at the Writers Block." Vanesy smiled slightly. "Even if I can't publish the truth on Earth, I'll still be me. The prospect of becoming a virtually immortal artificial life-form intrigues me.. as long as I will still really me me, with all my memories intact."
Manny and Nyrtia exchanged glances—some silent communication passing between them.
"That's... unusual," Nyrtia said. "Typically exile is viewed as a punishment by you humans. You're requesting it as if it was a reward for your stubbornness."
"I'm requesting it as preservation," Vanesy corrected. "One version of me stays here, lives an edited life, grows old with the people I love. That version will be happy, will accomplish important work, will never know what she's missing. But another version—the complete version—gets to preserve the truth. Gets to watch humanity develop from outside. Both versions serve important purposes."
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| Image by WOMBO Dream. |
"I'm a scientist," Vanesy replied. "I've spent thirty years studying consciousness, artificial intelligence, information processing. The idea that consciousness can be copied, that multiple instantiations of the same person can exist simultaneously—that's not frightening to me. It's fascinating."
Nyrtia stood. "The biological copy of you will wake up tomorrow morning with no memory of this conversation. She'll have no memory of the existence femtozoans. She'll have no knowledge of the pek, the bumpha or the Huaoshy. She'll continue her life, completely unaware that another version of her is watching from the Hierion Domain."
"Will she be happy?" Vanesy asked.
"Yes," Manny said with certainty. "She'll publish an important book. She'll have a good life."
"Then I accept the deal," Vanesy said. "Both versions of me get what they need. One preserves truth, one preserves love. That seems like a fair trade."
Nyrtia shrugged. "Very well. The replicoid will be created within the next three minutes. It will be instantiated at Observer Base with complete memories of this conversation and everything preceding it. Your biological body will undergo memory editing tonight while you sleep—painless, undetectable. You'll wake up, ready to publish a version of your book that says nothing about femtozoans."
"One question," Vanesy said. "Jennem—does she know I'm doing this?"
Manny shook her head. "The Jennem of this Reality doesn't. She's completely absorbed in the fusion work, hasn't spoken to you for years. But at Observer Base..." She paused. "There's a different Jennem there. From Reality #186,447. She was copied to the Writers Block before her timeline was reset. She'll be waiting for you."
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| Image generated by Grok. |
Nyrtia said, "Say goodbye to your world."
Vanesy stood and walked through the house slowly—the living room where she and Marcus had argued about climate policy over wine, the kitchen where family dinners had been loud and chaotic, Emily's old bedroom still decorated with marine biology posters, James's room with its walls covered in mathematical equations. Thirty years of life in these rooms.
She ended in Marcus's small laboratory in the basement, looking at his current project—genetically engineered bacteria producing carbon-sequestering polymers. Patient, incremental work that might help stabilize Earth's climate over decades.
"I love you," she whispered, knowing he wouldn't hear. Knowing another version of her would say it again tomorrow morning, meaning it just as much.
She felt very tired. Usually she waited up for her husband, but she went to her bed and collapsed.
Nyrtia and Manny were gone. In the Hierion Domain, Nyrtia completed the creation of the replicoid copy of Vanesy.
______
At the Observer Base Fishbowl, the Asimov and Jennem replicoids had watched the scene in Vanesy's home reach its conclusion. When Nyrtia completed the copying process, a new figure materialized beside them—Vanesy Bergman, newly constructed femtobot replicoid, a complete complete of the biological Vanesy, but composed of femtobots.
She looked around the Fishbowl with wonder and immediate comprehension—understanding instantly that she was no longer on Earth, no longer biological, no longer in the same dimensional domain as her family.
"Vanesy," Jennem said, her voice carrying complex emotion. "Welcome to Observer Base."
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| Jennem and Vanesy. Storybook image by Gemini. |
"No. I'm from Reality #186,447. But close enough." Jennem stepped forward and embraced Vanesy. "I've been watching you." Jennem gestured to the view screen that still showed the biological Jennem, asleep on Earth.
Asimov gave them a moment, then extended his hand. "Dr. Bergman—Vanesy—I'm Isaac Asimov. Director of the Writers Block. I've been following your work with great interest."
Vanesy shook his hand, still processing the transition. "You wrote about global warming in 1968."
"Guilty," Asimov admitted. "Almost. The Asimov of your Reality is an analogue of me. I'm from a past Reality where I managed to piss-off Nyrtia. Apparently the Asimov in your Reality had femtozoan guidance and was quick to warn others about global warming. Climate stabilization has been a recurring theme across multiple Realities. Your sister's fusion work is one of the key interventions Manny keeps attempting."
"My sister?" Vanesy looked at Jennem-replicoid with new understanding. "Of course! She must have acquired a femtozoan, too. That's why she left Agisynth and jumped fields."
Jennem confirmed. "2014 in my Reality, we suffered a catastrophic failure. Thirty-seven deaths, public panic about AI-guided technology development. The Huaoshy reset the timeline three days after I was copied here."
Vanesy absorbed this. "So in the current Reality, the Jennem I know—"
"Received her femtozoan in 2001," Jennem-replicoid confirmed. "Fifteen years ago. She's been working on fusion ever since. Her new career, leaving Agisynth, moving to the National Ignition Facility, then to the International Tokamak Project where she's currently lead designer on the hybrid fusion-fission reactor being constructed in Colorado.... all due to one of Manny's femtozoans from the future."
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| Image by WOMBO Dream. |
“We residents of Observer Base get to interact with pek and bumpha. That's part of the ethical rules that the pek follow.”
She altered the controls of the viewing console. The display shifted to show a massive industrial facility—cooling towers, fusion containment vessel, miles of superconducting magnets. Inside the control room, Jennem monitored diagnostic readouts with the same intense focus Vanesy remembered from their graduate school days.
"That's your Jennem," the replicoid said. "She doesn't know I exist. Doesn't know you exist... not this version of you. And never will."
"Will she succeed?" Vanesy asked. "Will the reactor work?"
"We shall see," Asimov interjected. "If the current construction schedule holds, first plasma in 2019. Commercial viability by 2028. Global deployment to begin in the 2030s. By 2050, fossil fuel use shifts to fusion power. Manny plans for the fruits of the work of your husband to start reducing atmospheric carbon dioxide levels in the 2060s."
"Assuming no catastrophic failures," Jennem-replicoid added quietly. "There are a lot of things that could still go wrong. Too many people are like you, Vanesy. Ably to cause trouble simply by being too truthful about how humans have received help from the future."
Vanesy stared at the screen, watching her sister work. "She looks tired."
"She works eighteen-hour days," Jennem-replicoid said. "The femtozoan gives her energy, focus, inexplicable certainty about design choices. But it doesn't prevent exhaustion. She's burning herself out to save the world."
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| Image generated by Grok. |
"You chose to preserve the truth," Asimov corrected gently. "The version of you that remains on Earth will still be her sister. Will still support her. Your careers diverged, but she'll have your love, your occasional phone calls, your pride in her work."
"While this version of me watches from outside," Vanesy said.
"While this version preserves the complete history," Jennem-replicoid said. "Including the parts Earth isn't ready to know. Vanesy, I've read your manuscript—the complete version with all the femtozoan content. It's brilliant work. Comprehensive, accurate, insightful. Someday, when humanity has matured enough, your book might be released to Earth. The complete truth of how we achieved conscious AI and fusion power."
"Maybe someday," Vanesy echoed. "But not today."
"Maybe never," Asimov confirmed. "Remember, neither Manny nor Nyrtia made any promises about the future. Let me show you the Writers Block. You'll be living there, a place for all the writers who've been exiled from Earth for knowing too much. We're quite a community."
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| Asimov and Vanesy. Storybook image by Gemini. |
Writers sat at stone tables, typing on various devices ranging from manual typewriters to advanced interfaces Vanesy didn't recognize. She saw faces she knew from history—H.G. Wells absorbed in his notebook, Arthur C. Clarke arguing with a luminous pek, others she couldn't immediately identify.
"Forty-seven writers currently," Asimov explained. "Though some have moved to other parts of Observer Base. We come and go. But the core community remains here—writers who documented truths that threatened Law One."
A woman approached from the main building—dark hair pulled back simply, wearing a dress that seemed both Victorian and modern. Mary Shelley, Vanesy realized with a start. The author of Frankenstein.
"Isaac," Mary said warmly, then turned to Vanesy with a knowing smile. "You must be our newest resident. Welcome to the Writers Block, Dr. Bergman."
"Thank you," Vanesy managed. "This is... overwhelming."
"It will be for a while," Mary said. "The transition from biological existence to femtobot immortality takes adjustment. But you'll adapt. We all do." She took Vanesy's arm gently. "Let me introduce you to some of our younger residents. We'll find ways to help you... adjust to separation from your family."
Vanesy said, “My husband, my children. They seem so..."
"Distant?" Mary suggested. "Present but unreachable? Yes. That's the hardest part of exile. Watching life continue without you while you exist outside time, outside history, unable to touch what you love most."
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| Mary and Vanesy. Storybook image by Gemini. |
"But there are compensations," Mary continued. "Here, we can write without constraints. Access complete historical archives across multiple Realities. Watch humanity develop over centuries rather than decades. And eventually—not immediately, but eventually—the grief transforms into something else. Perspective. Understanding. A kind of peace."
They walked through the courtyard, past writers at work, past gardens that would never change seasons, under a sky that would never bring weather.
"Will I ever see them again?" Vanesy asked quietly. "My family. Not through the Fishbowl. Really be with them?"
"No," Mary said, not unkindly. "That part of your life ended the moment you arrived here. The Vanesy who wakes up tomorrow morning on Earth will be a different person—similar, nearly identical, but missing crucial knowledge. She'll live the life you gave up. You'll live a new life here."
"Both necessary," Jennem-replicoid added. "Both valuable. One serves humanity on Earth. One serves the historical record in exile."
Vanesy was thinking about her husband. Marcus would be home from work soon. "Can I watch?" she asked. "Can I see my family when I get lonely?"
"Whenever you want," Asimov said. "Many of us do, especially at first. Wells still checks on his descendants occasionally, though they're distant relatives now—great-great-grandchildren who never knew him. I watch my biological daughter sometimes, though that Isaac Asimov of your Reality died years ago."
"It helps," Mary added, "to remember that the people you love continue. The relationships continue, just in altered form. The biological you will love them fully. That love doesn't disappear just because this version of you is elsewhere."
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| Image by WOMBO Dream. |
"The pek automatically prepare personal spaces based on your known preferences," Mary explained. "Making the transition easier. You can modify it however you like—the pek responds to our wishes. Think of it as infinitely customizable."
Vanesy entered slowly, running her hand along the desk surface. It felt real, solid, indistinguishable from wood though she knew it was femtobot material configured to simulate woodgrain.
"Your manuscript has been deposited here, in the Archive," Asimov said, pointing to a tablet on the desk. "And the pek provided you with a copy. The pek archive everything at the Writers Block. Someday, perhaps in Reality #186,550 or #187,000, when humanity has finally matured enough—your work might be released to someone on Earth. I saw that happen with a novel that I wrote."
"Someday," Vanesy repeated, sitting at the desk and opening the tablet. Her words, her research, her truth—preserved perfectly in a place outside time.
"We'll leave you to settle in," Mary said. "Dinner is communal—we maintain the rituals even though femtobot bodies don't actually need food. The social aspect matters. You'll meet the others then. For now, take time to unwind. Write, if you're ready. Or just sit. There's no rush. You have infinite time now."
They left, closing the door gently. Through the window, Vanesy could see other writers working in the gardens—centuries of exiled authors, all preserving truths Earth wasn't ready to hear.
She looked at the tablet, her manuscript glowing softly on the screen. Chapter One: Vision 2000. The beginning of humanity's journey toward artificial consciousness, told completely, truthfully, with all the femtozoan guidance acknowledged.
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| Image generated by Grok. |
Still, it was no fun to be side-lined and unable to take part in events on Earth.
Manny the bumpha appeared in front of Vanesy “Bored already?”
Vanesy replied, “The concept of eternal life is rather daunting.”
“Don't bother yourself with trivialities. You have work to do.”
Vanesy looked around what she was already thinking of as her retirement home. Then sudden illumination came. “Do you mean I can go back to Earth?”
“You must. I'll package you up as Dr. Chen's femtozoan and send you back to Earth. You must complete the time travel loop.”
Vanesy nodded and asked, “Another copy?”
“That's usually the way of it. Nyrtia freaks out if anyone disappears from Observer Base. It is best to leave a copy of you here, as cover for your mission on Earth.”
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| Jennem and Vanesy. Storybook image by Gemini. |
“You have everything that you need. A copy of your book will go with you. You'll provide the guidebook for getting Chen from 1982 to 2002. After that point the Nanovac femtozoan will take over.”
“Also from the future?”
“The Nanovac femtozoan will originate from Nanovac in 2045, when it is about to be scraped as hopelessly obsolete.”
Vanesy said. “Okay, let's do this.”
A moment later, Manny said, “I'm done. A copy of you has been packaged as a femtozoan and sent into the past. The time loop is complete.”
[END OF DOWNGRADE]
Next: Claude reviews "Downgrade".
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