Wired - Douglas E. Richards [132]
But now, having achieved a second level of optimization that was truly staggering, she had gained a perspective far different from that she had achieved at the first level. She marveled at the preposterous hubris she and the others had exhibited at this level. Incredible. Now that she had achieved a truly transcendent plane of thought she was sure of only one thing: she understood absolutely nothing!
The universe was infinite, and there were most likely an infinite number of universes. To sit on one tiny planet in an ocean of infinite infinities and believe you understood anything about the true nature of existence and reality was absurd. The convictions of the arrogant minds of those at the first level of enhancement were just as flawed as any they had replaced.
Was there an afterlife? Maybe. Perhaps there wasn’t even a need for one. Perhaps all consciousness was already immortal. The widely embraced Many-Worlds interpretation of the bizarre experimental results found in quantum physics suggested that whenever different possibilities for the future existed, all of them were realized. The universe was constantly splitting into multiple universes, like branches on a tree, with each branch continuing to branch an infinite number of times.
In the past a bullet fired from a helicopter had been hurtling toward Jim Connelly as he stood in a clearing. In this universe it had missed killing him by a few inches. But as the bullet was hurtling toward him the universe had branched. There were now an infinite number of universes in which the bullet had killed him, and an infinite number in which it had missed entirely. But within these infinities going forward, until the end of time, there would always be at least one universe in which the colonel’s consciousness survived.
The possibility of quantum immortality was accepted by a number of mainstream physicists as they used their normal human faculties to understand the fantastic implications of quantum effects. But there were possibilities her alter ego had glimpsed that human scientists had not even begun to suspect. There were at least as many reasons to believe in the existence of immortality or an afterlife as there were not to.
Was there a God? It was impossible to answer this question for sure, but the level of human understanding was so insignificant it was the height of arrogance to rule it out. She had posed the question: if God could exist without need of a creator, why couldn’t the universe? But the converse was also true. If the universe could exist without being created, why couldn’t God?
But even if God existed, there was no guarantee this being would have all the answers; would fully understand the nature of reality. An omniscient being could be all-knowing and yet have far more to learn. Infinite infinities yet again. Even if God’s mind could grasp and contain within it the infinity of numbers between 0 and 1, there were still an infinity of numbers outside of this set.
But if God might be unable to fully comprehend the true nature of existence, where did this leave poor humanity? To what end should this lowly species aspire?
Miraculously, Kira’s alter ego had come up with an answer to this question: one she found immensely satisfying. The purpose of consciousness—any consciousness—was to achieve infinite comprehension. It was as simple as that. If a God existed, humanity must strive to discover this God and help this deity become omniscient, not just in one infinity, but in an infinity of infinities.
This was one possible purpose for her species. But her alter ego, using symbolic logic, had arrived at a possibility she considered much more likely: that humanity’s purpose, together with all life across all universes, was not to discover God—it was to become