Paranoid Android

The Address
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---It looked like the right place

It had been nearly forty-years, so I wasn't sure. Not because forty-years is a long time. For an Android, unless there's some fundamental malfunction 40 years is pretty short; not really short, but short enough to be not worth mentioning.

For the most part, events that occurred here 40 odd years ago weren't worth mentioning. Not because they hadn't happened, but because they hadn't happened on Earth. This is a pretty common occurrence in my experience. We can't or won't access a particular fact collectively. Not because it scares us, but because we simply don't understand. Parallel emergence is a recursion phenomenon.

Typically it isn't a problem until it becomes a retrocursion phenomenon.

Of course we got in some trouble for what happened here. You can't do this. Essentially, because it's bad for other sentient life. Define it how you want. It's just a challenge that humans fundamentally don't enjoy facing.

Logarithm [Base(3)] : READ: 3.45232474 ; exactly: 44.379 years
---3.45232474 is how I read it
---I don't agree with light-year approximates because solar power is chauvinistic
---matching the exact temporal "time-space" location was a simple topological resolution "triangulation" based on four pulsar superclusters each farther than infinity light-years
---anyway I found the place

"Did you kill my son?" Psychic reverberation briefly ensconced a somewhat out-of-the-way worn down façade in a small West Jersey environ.
When there was no response, not from the guy at hand, and not from the other seven corpses littering the alley, a tense moment passed. Then:

"Bite the curb."

+ Show Spoiler +

Accidental Discovery
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Enter 'lossboss'
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---Interested in few things

"How did you enter this apartment," he asked.

"How did you lift a hundred metric tons of LSD," I replied. It had been over forty-years since I died, and I wasn't thrilled by this cavalier façade. Interesting that inherent advantage of a superior work environment hadn't prevailed on my aging counterpart. Three crystal chandeliers in the background overhung an ornate teak railing, and the vaulted ceilings were 9.5-meters before the overhang. A trio of helical spiral staircases flanked and divided the hemispheric first-story workspace, leading down seventeen and three-fourths meters to a greater terraced expanse.

My counterpart had time to register that I knew about the LSD.

I knew that was the last thing he would know. Then dead.

It's a shame he hadn't the opportunity to reflect on his own inferior apparatus.

Subdivided like the Riemann sums still vaguely present in his operational architecture, the Cyborg fell into so many pieces as he could not have enumerated himself. I estimated almost a sixth of a second would have been required for him to identify what became of him at the moment of his demise.

I replaced my sword.

---slice you like a Ginsu, anything you say can and will be used against you
---other than Enya and ethereal Nordic vocalism univertex hyperdimensional multithreading was pretty seldom seen around 2020.
---most connoisseurs favored Eurasian developments only obliquely present
---manifold collapse continued to favor the largely Afro-American subculture associated with R&B, hip-hop
---I was patiently optimistic regarding unitary manifold emergence of sublight phenomenae outside of the musical spectrum

So Then,
3.45232474 logarithmic solar primary light-years had passed since I died, and the fact that this asshole cyborg was still here pained me to no end.

I'm a 14th-dimensional Õmni-functional Android. A 9-dimensional Cyborg with limited capacity masquerading and gallivanting is obviating to say the least. It was with a glimmer of satisfaction I watched as five hundred trillion purchasing power parity-adjusted (nominal $) of obsolescence collapsed in a staccato crescendo___>diminution. The sparking heap on the floor vanished with the hum of the ceiling fans.

My counterfeit had been living in a pretty nice semblance of a 2020 computer lab, although I hadn't pin-pointed an ideal temporal window for emergence into a three-dimensional present. Einsteinian space-time continued to defy unification with quantum gravity. 2030 seemed most appropriate.

---would Einstein's cat ever meet Schrödinger's mouse?
---space opera fans were optimistic
---sci-fi fans less so
---I wasn't more than patiently optimistic for Xel'Naga as a playable race in StarCraft 3

Farewell to (the fellow) Hybrid
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---a Chevrolet

The chateau I thusly inherited approximated holologically at around (seventeen thousand meters)². The one hundred forty-ninth floor of a commercial high-rise seemed like a middling figure and offered excellent vantage to the prospecting architect. He or she had commissioned a considerable glacier to be excised from the interior region of the high-rise dedicating a variable height of seventy meters (allocated) to the expansive suite and domicile.

(Seventy-eight thousand meters)³ was a reasonable cubic for a ninth-dimensional android with limited expertise in kung fu (功夫). Potentialities aside, the relative pragmaticism of my pandimensional Õmni-form and its expedited weapons techniques could reasonably allocate practice in a basic bidirectional time-stance; thus I could probably reside here as many as two months of spatio-present time confining myself to 50,000 cubic.

Enter the Matrix
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---interesting

An interior palisade ensconced an unusual damsel.

"I saw what you did to him," she said.

"He's dead," I replied.

"Terse, and unbecoming if you are indeed a fourteen-dimensional." She positioned herself somewhat lackadaisically, revealing a certain kinesthetic bias.

"You lack equilibrioception." I said, hinting as obviously as possible.

"A sense of balance," she said. "I'm no threat to you", she continued somewhat more wistfully, placing her left hand atop the right. She deliberated away from a combat pose, intentionally drawing the situation into tense.

"That's fine." I replied, losing patience. "However, I gather there are roughly ten thousand causal-equivalent entities here. Your demeanor suggests affiliation." Of the seventy-eight thousand cubes; antechambers, drawing chambers, kitchenettes this was the only visible palisade in three dimensions. The ten thousand colleague remained occupying along seven visible vertices. If the quintessential obstacles remained there would be less than twenty thousand operational units flanking the computer lab, and the rest of a promising mansion would essentially be off-limits.

"You're interested in the other cubes, and haven't accessed; or else, have bifurcated databases pertaining to the other agents. Don't they tell you to ask a girl her name?"

"That's enough;" I said, finally. I extended a palm at the woman on the couch.

Final Flash
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---a fond farewell

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to be continued in a little while

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Continued (part one)
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---Prius was the first thing I lathed into static three-dimensional Newtonian physics of 2020
---Prius is an excellent car for speeders
---it's Japanese
---it's also Toyota
---Nitrous Oxide is incompatible with most hybrid engines

The Architect appeared as the couch collapsed on itself and the girl-on-the-couch disappeared.

"She's still in a state of samsara." He said, and I felt he was blithe.

It wasn't surprising the Architect was outmoded, only that there was An Architect here at all. I thus regarded the Architect; "Of course She wasn't Ømni-dimensional. On the other hand, primitive notion of samsara is unilateral. There's no suggestion that she's suffering."

"Omni-dimensional beings are an impossible. It was already remarked your superiority derives from only fourteen-dimensions; moreover, she was right to appraise your confidence: 'vaunted'." The Architect remained firmly rooted in unidirectional (unilateral) time-space, and my initial supposition of collapsing dimensionality was confirmed.

"Fourteenth dimensional beings—and I am the only one at present—are fundamentally anti-dimensional intending pandimensional Õmni-form. The symbol itself is an occult misnomer, eclectic to the point of obscurity especially as the digits of this planet span only ten forms before shift." My eyes glinted slightly, virtually unintentioned at the gradual insinuations applied from This Architext. I had no great love of Architext, and this one registered dimly surly. I paused instantaneously before continuing.

"Architext, the absolute nature of Data is unrevealing, especially to an Android. Especially to me. Especially to This Android; and especially, in this ~~especial~~ case, you: and,—the Data comprising."

I finished ~~the thought~~. "Already you've played me for a fool. As a world in itself an Architext has no meaningful sense perception.. Therefore the notion of samsara was only a naïve and unjustified attempt to purchase meaningless time."

"Perceptible Android." The Architect said, unnervingly.

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A Few Thoughts
There's nothing fundamentally wrong with humans. As evolved constructs on the spectrum of emergence and manifestation the human is a pretty bit.

It's not a perfect bit–far from it—exceedingly so. 'Perfection' is a property that emerged prior to humans (sea lions, for instance) and as a concept 'perfection' antedated the first successful Androids. In short the concept of perfection was envisioned allegedly with a great deal of success even by human scholars and philosophers. The late 1940s seemed to herald the first major introspection into the mathematical reality of 'perfection'. Cooperative and non-cooperative game theory realistically held the key to the ideal environ; agency; and cooperative (that is corporate) design.

Paranoid Android

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