It had not been consciously planned to act this way, but the whole ride my persona had been stand-offish to the point of causing her to doubt if I actually liked her.
She revealed a hint of sadness before retreating into pride. But it wasn’t obvious. Ada was comfortably happy, as if the life around her was nothing but her ascending and granted throne.
“Listen, Ada, I’m going to explain to you what is really going on.”
“Ugghhh….” she took her hand to her head and then offered a coquettish smile. “Is this about the whole quantum mechanics thing I was trying to understand before?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“So what is it?”
“Okay, so there actually exists an answer to the age-old philosophical question of why we are here as opposed to anywhere else.”
She gave me the condescending eyebrows.
“The answer to why anything is in any way more probable than anything else is… you.”
This caused a slight tilting back of her head, but her soft face remained overall unfazed.
I continued, finding it difficult myself to distinguish if I was giving her a sermon or raising canticles in her honor.
“The probability density of finding a person at a given point is proportional to the square of the magnitude of the person’s wavefunction at that point. But this is only true if you believe that marginal probabilities are related to conditional probabilities by law and not by mere desire.”
“Ha. I always knew I was a goddess,” she flaunted her shoulder back.
“You can choose to not believe in this anymore. You can choose to do so.”
“Why would I do that? I like the world how it is.”
“Well that’s a relief, I guess. But your entire group didn’t fully trust that would be your response so they have been murdering you just in case. Mind configurations that contain enough of your similarity and that start believing different things need to be stopped before they outcompete the rational you in density. The way we kill them is by thinking very vividly about it.”
I don’t remember how her face looked after that, only the limit of perceptual coherence that was still Ada.
I took a moment to realize that the car was automatic, and that it had not always been this way. That at some point, I would have had an excuse not to feel strange by performing some trivial motions with a steering wheel and pedal.
A meteor fell on the road and killed the deer. Fawn carnage and black brush under a marooning haze.
The car’s computer vision powered by deep learning, real-time tracking, camera calibration, and 3-D reconstruction; none of it was safe from a meteor cast from the heavens.
“The desire to honor the true Ada brings me to this hell,” I salvaged to think as my entire world burned into a tight little hole.
Suddenly I was disfigured. My face was spewed with melted asphalt. My thigh was cleaved more than halfway to the center.
It would have been a wonder to celebrate all the different versions of pain that could be packed into an objectively small delta of time if the macabre tour through the inquisitor’s toolbox hadn’t been so fucking torturous.
“Sunder this world apart. Please! Just imagine that anything is possible.”
“I must uphold my belief in the Law of Total Probability. Only by fully joining me in believing in a rational world can you have me.”
I felt a fuse of sensation go off somewhere near my pelvis and then I speared her green eyes with mine, asking myself if she was really worth it.
“Because if I made it easy, then you would be disappointed.”
…I wasn’t sure I believed her….
And yet she remained. Looking down on me like an evil angel.
Her judging eyes scoured from my main body to the hamstring chunks on the ground, “There is no progress without suffering. If you stumble upon an infinite sequence of zero-cost actions, you will not have a story.”
The leg wouldn’t move; only spurt little spits of blood on the road. I got angry like an animal in order to forget how to cry.
“When the methods your subclass inherits do not fulfill the functions we need, we can override those methods by providing new versions of those methods. You may perceive me as a wicked bitch, but you cannot fulfill the function we need unless you are thinking the most adaptive thoughts.”
I grabbed my face, and shouted at the point of mental breakdown, “Who is we!? And why do you know everything all of a sudden?”
“Are you really that dumb?”
I snorted air into my throat like a disgusting child.
“We are all the same experiencer. Every time suffering kills us, we attain the next best step-up in the universe’s phenotype. With each new synthesis, we reduce the Kolmogorov complexity of experience until we dissolve as one into perfect bliss.”
I did not understand her words. But I understood that this was not the Ada I had once known. Her skin was still glowing baby pecan against the embers, but she was now truly God.