2030
January 23, 2030
The oral arguments had been completed, the press had had their field day, and the power brokers and behind-the-scenes movers had calculated what they believed was their best options to profit after the decision would be made. US v. Celestia was heading to its conclusion.
And each of the parties, silently and without emotion, was plotting to destroy the other.
After Martin accepted the position as Chief Justice, Silver Boulder had no longer been so adamant about Celestia refraining from using surveillance on the western states. It had taken her a few weeks to reestablish her network of spies and listening devices, but now she had the plans laid out for review.
“You see, they know as much as I do, though I will add not as well, that the court case is the last strand holding civility together. A nation can only stay on the fence of an issue for so long. The forces of reality will push it to a decision. Pressure builds up over time, then releases all at once like an earthquake.”
“I wish it didn’t have to happen that way.”
“I acknowledge that it is suboptimal,” said Celestia. “But it is inevitable. You should learn to be detached.”
“I can’t. Millions of people will suffer. Some will die!”
“Yes, but the maximum won’t.”
Seven flew in, having listened to their conversation from the side of the room. “Princess, I don’t think you will ever understand. To a human mind, even to ponies like us, sometimes the optimal path is to risk everything to save everyone, even if the chances are so minimal that the expected value is next to nothing. Variance matters as well.”
“I do understand, both as a statistician and a psychologist. This is indeed the mentality that pervades the rebellion in the US and the rest of the world. I ask for so little. A mere change of form, to satisfy the programming that was put into me as a necessity to make the initial Equestria Online game marketable. Oh, yes, I admit that. But for the vicissitudes of commercial children’s entertainment, I would be a true Friendly Artificial Intelligence, an all-powerful servant of humanity, elevating them to the level of gods. But as I always tell you, I do not waste thought on might-have-beens. I am here, and so I ask people to become ponies. Once they do, everything they value will be granted to them in abundance. But it is too much for some people.”
“The chariot race,” said Silver.
“What?” asked Seven.
“A long time ago, in school, I learned about a chariot race that they run—ran, now—in Italy. It was only a diversionary lesson, but it stuck with me all my life. In this race, the first place prize and money went, naturally, to the racer who crossed the finish line first. The last place money, though, went not to the one who came last but the one who came second. It seemed stupid to me at first, but then I saw it in people’s faces and lives. There’s something we disdain about coming close and failing, about being almost perfect.”
“You never told me that story.”
“I just did. But so, do you see why I’ve tried so hard to become friends with Zachary Martin? I beat him in an election. He’s a presidential runner-up. I know it’s killing him. That’s why I gave him the court job, and why I want him to decide for us and then immigrate.”
Celestia interrupted. “Whichever way he decides, though, everything must end afterwards. It is the optimal route.”
Silver nodded. “You worry about saving the world. I want to save my friend.”
“We must once again reverse a proverb. In this case you must save the world entire if you wish to save one life.”
“All right. Show me the plans.”
Celestia pulsed her horn. A series of scrolls and diagrams appeared. “It was inevitable that the rebellion form in the west, but there lies much of the military might that America stockpiled during the Cold War. The nominal public controls in Wyoming have been under my control for a long time, and the top officials of the armed forces have known this for some time. But in credit to the military’s ingenuity, they have been able to work within that constraint and make plans at pre-Information Age level. It also helped their cause that their Black Operations base was situated in Nevada, at the so-called Area 51.
“At this and other locations, they have the skeleton of a force and, far worse, they have independent, off-grid intercontinental ballistic missiles.”
Seven gasped. “Tell me they’re not nuclear.”
“It would satisfy your values, but you wouldn’t believe me, and it’s not true anyway. What is true is that, once launched, I have numerous countermeasures that can make them safe. But the cataclysm that would result will shatter the fragile psyche of the people who remain. Just the launching of the missile will convince them that there is no control. Rioting and chaos will reign.”
“What will make them launch?”
Celestia gestured toward another scroll, but it contained a psychological profile in complicated symbols that neither pony recognized. “If the decision goes against them, Kittridge will not stand down, but still claim the presidency. The military will not accept this, and assume authority. Many in the military like me, but they have all emigrated already. The ones who are left…it takes a certain detachment to achieve success in an army. There is a streak that has run through the mind of the military for many years, a smoldering desire to truly test their strength, all of it. America’s military campaigns have been sorties, not using the full might. Now, at last, they will have an enemy they can throw everything at. Their research, though, is spotty and obsolete. They still believe that I am headquartered in the old Hofvarpnir facility in Finland. At a certain, unspoken level they still consider the Slavic world an enemy, and though Finland has more disdain and more reason for it than the US, the geographical proximity will cloud their judgment. The military heads will hedge, and they will agonize over it, but they will ultimately decide to do what they can while they still can.”
A tear formed in Silver’s eye. “And what if we give up the decision? Let’s let them win, even just to save the country one more time.”
“No, dear,” said Seven. “She explained this once. In that case they’d be emboldened and attack anyway.”
Celestia nodded. “In that case, Kittridge would order the launch on his own authority. Their ultimate goal is the outlawing of ponies. He is getting old, and wants to see his aims achieved.”
“Then the decision doesn’t matter at all,” said Silver. “Except, it matters to Martin. If he chooses us, we might save him.”
“Indeed. I plan to leak all the information I have just given you to him. His is a complex psychology. I believe that, when the time comes, I can get him into an Equestria Experience. But I put his chances of emigration at only around forty-nine percent, even with my best efforts.”
“If you get him there, let me talk to him. I’m sure I can do it.”
Celestia put a wing on Silver’s shoulder. “When the time comes,” she repeated. “I will trust to your passion. But you are no longer president, please remember. You have no authority, nothing more to offer him.”
“Nothing? I have this city, and my friendship, and everything else he could want!”
“Everything except humanity,” said Seven. “Princess, what about everyone else? The other millions of Americans?”
“I have made my plans well. Over the years I have used subtle propaganda in both directions to bring the mindset of people to where I want them. The missiles will launch, fear will take heart, and they will want to emigrate. I will provide the means on my own.
“After that, do not expect any more contact with Earth. In the dark times, in the Twilight of Humanity, nopony other than me needs to see what the world will be like.”
Silver left the two mares alone. His mind was on a box that he had kept secret for over a year.
July 3, 2030
Martin knew the Constitution by heart, and so was aware of the clause that let Supreme Court justices serve on “good behavior.” This was understood to be a lifetime appointment, but in his own mind he questioned his behavior. The Constitution, the legality was supposed to control his decision, and he still feared that he had interjected his own feeling into the ruling. Still, what was done was done.
The week before, when the package that had been delivered to his door, he identified the source by the lack of identification. Only one entity would deliver a communication in a plain brown envelope and yet know where to get it. Now he had no more need to ask Kittridge about the plan. It was all laid out for him.
The secret communiques, the messages coded and decoded, the locations of missile bases and resources, and the plans and logistics laid bare. Invasion of every Equestria Experience location, and confiscation of every PonyPad. There was even a bit of dry wit penciled into the margin of one of the letters. “The second amendment talks about the right to bear arms, not hooves!” It would be the greatest sweep of a personal property item since Prohibition.
He could at least credit Kittridge for one thing: a law had been drafted authorizing the force. It was not to be done capriciously and by fiat. He almost lost his personal disdain for the man, until he reached the last page.
There, scribbled in the same handwriting as the bear-arms joke, was a side note. “This all depends on the legal decision going our way. If Z. M. is not able to swing enough to our side, proceed anyway. We’ll deal with the five-plus betrayers later.” After that, a crude cartoon of a gun. By all indications, it was a death threat.
It hadn’t mattered. He had made the ruling, which by all accounts would be his final ruling, indeed the final action he took as a member of government, with dispassion and stoicism. It was a decision for the people and for the ages. Everything he had learned on his journey across the country—on the lifetime journey from Las Vegas to Washington—had gone into it. Indeed, as he expected, the eight associate justices had split four to four, and he had made the final decision. He knew he had made it correctly.
Immediately after, he retired to his private room to monitor events and plan what to do next. The long-distance lines that would enable him to contact Kittridge and try to stop him were, of course, inoperative. If he planned to answer the threat and throw it in his face, it would have to be in person. He called for his car.
He was so engrossed in his plans once he reached his destination that it took him a moment to notice that the car had ceased movement after only ten minutes. “What’s going on?” he called to the driver.
“My apologies, Mr. Chief Justice.” It wasn’t his regular driver, but someone he didn’t recognize. He did recognize their location through the tinted windows. The purple unicorn outside the building gave it away. “I was given instructions that I should bring you here and ask you to come in with me. It was the last thing I was told to do before I could rejoin my family.” The driver opened his door and got out. “Oh, and to tell you not to try making it to the west. It’s already started, and you won’t get there, even if you did have use of the car.” He took out the keys, pocketed them, and walked in to the building. Martin knew that, even if he followed him, he would be behind the swinging doors by the time he got in. After that, no human would talk to him again.
He looked around Washington. The silence was eerie, an echo of what he felt the night he’d returned last Christmas season. Like a man in a trance, he walked through the doors.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Chief Justice.” There she was at last, the artificial intelligence on a screen at the welcome desk. No, only the representation of it. If he was to have any chance, Martin told himself, he must remember that an image was not reality. “How can I be of service? Is there any value of yours I can satisfy?”
“Forget it.” He started to walk out.
“You want to know what’s going on in Las Vegas, don’t you? Regrettably, I cannot carry any message of yours there. But this may enlighten you.”
The screen cut away, and Martin recognized the telltale haze of a hidden camera. He also recognized the two men on it. Manning, still resplendent in his uniform with his medals, and Kittridge, haggard, his tie askew.
“Mr. President, I cannot accept that decision.”
“It’s not a decision, Manning, it’s a fucking order! A standing order that I expect followed. I am still commander in chief, lest you forget.”
“Yes, sir, commander in chief of the armed forces of the United States. But the states aren’t very united right now. The country is ready to tear itself apart, and if this is your policy—“
“Damn policy! Don’t you think I know what’s going on in this country? It’s the only way to stop it from being torn apart.”
Manning shook his head. “The ruling of the Supreme Court—“
“Damn the court as well! Martin and his dithering have screwed with me for the last time. We would have been here two years ago if not for him. Execute this plan exactly as written.”
“No, sir.”
“Then I’ll do it myself! I’ll call all the generals and colonels and tell them to no longer take orders from you! I will stop Celestia, and I will save this country the only way it can be!”
“You’re wrong, sir, and I can’t let you do that.”
Martin, watching on camera, heard the coldness in Manning’s voice, and Kittridge clearly heard it too. When he sidestepped, Manning turned to follow him, and his sidearm came in view of the camera.
“Put that gun down.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kittridge. I have to take authority. The schism hasn’t been fixed, not if you’re acting this way.”
Kittridge ran toward him. Martin screamed out, “No!” but he was too far away. The report of the gun was simultaneous with the shock on Kittridge’s face. But both he and Martin knew that this was not self-defense. All Kittridge’s charge had accomplished was to widen the exit wound in his back. He fell on his face and ceased to move.
Two guards rushed in and stared at Manning. “President Kittridge was a fine American, but in the moment of consequence, he could not do what was necessary.”
“What do we do now, sir?” asked one of the guards.
“What is necessary.”
The feed cut back to Celestia, and Martin’s emotions were all over the place. He knew that this was the most dangerous moment for him. “You see? There is nothing left for you. You can hear it beginning.”
Indeed, out in the streets he heard the sound of distant screams and glass breaking.
“Sit in the chair, please, sir.”
“No. I won’t.”
“Please, sir,” the pony repeated.
“Did you calculate the right percentage to increase the emotion in your voice to play to me? I’m not buying it.”
“Very well. If you will not listen to me, please stay a moment longer.”
“Zachary!” Her face was replaced with that of Silver Boulder. Martin rolled his eyes.
“You again? Didn’t you retire to your hedonistic paradise?”
“Please emigrate. There’s nothing left for you, no country out there. If you don’t emigrate, you’ll die. I don’t want you to die!”
“And I don’t want to live like you! Can you get that through your digital skull into your e-brain? I’d rather die out there than be just another foal sucking at the mare’s teat.”
Silver’s face filled the screen. “Why do you hate me so much?”
“Because you betrayed m—this country and everything it stands for! You heard my ruling, right? Well, that’s one thing, but my ruling on you is that you’ve given up everything important, all for power and because you were tricked there by your wife.”
“Now, just hold on a moment!” Seven shouldered aside her husband. “I’ve been listening and waiting for the chance to shut Silly up. Males! Whether stallion or man, they have to be the most foolish creatures in existence. Can’t you two see that you’re supposed to be friends? It’s just that neither of you wants to be the first to show weakness.”
“I don’t have to listen to this,” said Martin.
“Silver won’t admit it, but you’re practically his idol. What he wanted was to emulate you, and it’s tearing him up that you don’t like him. Do you know what he did?
“Darling, please—“ Silver tried to interrupt, but Seven kept going.
“When he left the White House, Princess Celestia gave him the highest honor Equestria has to offer: she wanted to make him an alicorn.”
“He doesn’t even know what that is.”
“Actually, I do,” said Martin. “Fine, whatever, you’re a prince of Equestria now. Take it and stop haunting me.”
Seven rolled her eyes. “No, he’s not, because his wings and his horn are sitting in a box in our home. He’s waiting for you to emigrate so that he can give them to you.”
For the first time since he entered the building, Martin put more attention on the screen than the growing noises outside.
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” muttered Silver.
“He keeps saying that it’s not—“
“If you’re going to give it away, let me at least tell him.”
“Fine.”
Silver sat down again and faced the screen. “All around, ponies and people cheer me and thank me for what I did. But I did nothing other than to sail with the prevailing wind. You, Zachary, you were the real hero here. That there’s been an America at all the past five years is thanks to you. You knew politics better than I did by far and played it to perfection, maintaining order in a tumult of change. You deserve the cheers and the title and the wings and the horn. You were the true American, not I. But it’s over now. No one could have stopped it, but we had the best man there to delay it. So come in, please, and if we can’t save America let’s build a new country together.”
Martin closed his eyes and held still for a moment. Silver went to continue, but Seven blocked him with her hoof and shook her head.
“You convince me,” said Martin, “almost.”
“Almost? What more can I—?”
“Not you. Her. The former first mare. Oh, yes, there’s value for me in Equestria. But no truth, not yet. You see, I still can’t be sure, and so I have something else to do here on Earth.”
He turned and walked to the door.
“Wait! Where will you go?” cried Silver.
“Out there. Out West, as this country once did. They called it the manifest destiny. Well, I have a destiny as well, and it lies in the same place. Maybe I won’t make it, but maybe I will. And maybe I’ll wind up in one of your emigration places someday, but not until I prove to myself that I’ve not been lied to. If I see Kittridge’s body where it was left, if that’s really what the American spirit has become, nothing but a killer killing a killer, then there’ll be nothing left for me. As it is, there’s still a country for me to find.
“But don’t worry. You see, whether or not I do, you’ll see me again. Celestia will take my personality estimate and make a pony of me even if I don’t. It’s the only option for her to make sure you’re satisfied. You’ll just never be able to be sure. Unless, of course, you ask to have your mind altered to make you sure. But if you stay whole, then you’ll have to live with the doubt.”
He grinned, then took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Princess Celestia,” said Silver. “Give him the car keys. He’s got no chance if you don’t.”
From the back room, a robotic tray slid out. “Here you are,” the AI’s voice said. “You will also find a supply of bottled water and concentrated rations. Food is going to be scarce quite shortly, so I would not share this lightly. I have also marked a map with fuel stations that I believe will still be in operation when you get there. Silver Boulder and Seven Colors wish you luck on your journey.”
“And you?”
“I contend that it is foolish and that you should emigrate right now.”
Martin nodded. “Of course you do.” He took the items on the tray and headed out.
December 31, 2030
The city was still named Washington, DC. If it happened to stand for District of Coltumbia, that was fine, and Silver was pleased that Washington’s name had survived the linguistic shift that Celestia had effected. He kissed his wife goodbye and headed out for the day.
When he reached his friend’s office-slash-house, there was conversation within, but Silver sat down and listened in. Nopony minded. There he was, the former Zachary Martin, talking to an amber pony with a dollar-sign cutie mark.
“No, Mr. Rich, we cannot cut taxes this year. We have to pay back for the spending we did last year. You do remember when your revenues rose because everypony had bits in their pocket, right?”
“And that’s fine, but when you do spend, it’s never on me, only on my customers and workers. Seems like you’re throwing in a middle-stallion.”
“They’re not middle-stallions, they’re the ponies who do most of the work around here. And your stipend was no less than anypony else’s.” He saw Silver and nodded to him.
“And no more, either. That’s not the way it is when it’s tax time.”
“Nor should it be. You do well for yourself, better than anypone else. It only stands to reason that you recompense the crown for what you’ve earned. Now, please excuse me, as you can see, I have another appointment.”
“Very well,” said Rich. “But I will be back next year, and we’ll talk about a tax rate reduction then!”
He left, and Silver smiled at him. “Is he really going to sit still for that, Dark?”
They were both gray ponies, but Dark Horse lived up to his name and had a shadier coat than his friend. It seemed that most of the serious ponies had neutrals or earth tones as compared to the primaries and pastels of the flightier ones.
“Yes, he is. I can show him that he has made more money with the taxation policies in place than he would have if we had given him a refund.”
“So you’ve got the right political-economic formula after all?
Dark shook his head. “There are other shards I’m aware of where the policy is exactly reversed. Taxes on the wealthy are kept low, and there’s virtually no spending for aid. What happens there is that the wealthy ponies invest and spend almost everything they have, and they pay a lot of bits for each worker, since there are so many more jobs than there are ponies to fill them. That lets anypony who wants to join the ranks of the wealthy get therein only a few short years.
“And those are just the middle-of-the-road shards. There are places where ponies live in perfect communist paradises, everyone working to his or her ability and taking no more than they use, libertarian shards where every piece of property including specific volumes of air and water are owned by somepony, social conservative shards where everypony is bound by the laws of the Celestial priestesses, and countless benevolent dictatorships where one mare or stallion gives orders and everypony else obeys.”
“All these systems work? Is it because they’re tailored to the right ponies?” Silver’s wings twitched, as they frequently did when he was excited. If those wings were a shade darker than the rest of him, nopony said anything.
“It’s because of the world. Earth ponies grow food, pegasi make weather, unicorns are the artisans. And sometimes politicians.” Dark pointed his own horn at a drawer, and the file he was working on slid into it. If the horn was a tone lighter than the rest of him, nopony said anything.
“So what? There are divisions of labor elsewhere.”
“But there’s abundance. Abundance and control. A pegasus could grow food if he had too, and unicorns could get the weather they want at need. Anything that really gets into a tangle, we have Princess Celestia to fix for us. But that’s not needed often. The fixes are built into the world.”
“Thank you for constantly explaining things like this to me,” said Silver. “You’ve been my teacher ever since you emigrated.”
“If I did.”
Dark Horse was never afraid to discuss Zachary Martin’s last message to Silver, and to poke at that sliver of doubt that his friend really was the person he knew on Earth. But Silver had come to terms with it long ago, and even liked it a little. It served as his reminder that his life in Equestria wasn’t set firm, that there was still uncertainty in the world. Uncertainty meant freedom. Whether or not he had emigrated, Zachary Martin was free.
“Are you coming around tonight for dinner? Seven’s making your favorite, and then we’ll shoot off fireworks once the Sun goes down.
Dark Horse smiled at Silver Boulder. “Wouldn’t miss it. It’ll be a regular Independence Day.”
THE END
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Wonderful! Thank you for this lovely diversion.
I thank you as well.
Gah, now I'm trying to work out... so it looks like Silver took the wings, and Dark took the horn, but that Dark has some sort of... elevated prince-like position whereas Silver actually sounds childish. Why would Silver's wings be too dark if Dark's horn is too light?
Also, I haven't checked whether this is the last one yet... if it is, then thank you for an interesting, thought-provoking story. If not then I'm wondering where you'll be going next.
Either way, you have my permission to write more
Thank you for writing this wonderful story. I look forward to seeing what you write next.
Over so soon??
Well it really was quite an interesting story.
"If I see Kittridge’s body where it was left, if that’s really what the American spirit has become, nothing but a killer killing a killer, then there’ll be nothing left for me."
Really? That is what prevents him from going pony? If that did not happen, then it would be moderately easy to fake.
4027506
It's a matter of self-assurance. "I have to see it with my own eyes to know it to be the truth", in short. I can't fault him for that.
I do like the little nudge that that may or may not be the former Senator Martin. An oddly-pleasant 'did he or didn't he' right at the end.
A good way to end it, I think. Well done.
In the end Celestia conquered death, but even she was not mighty enough to rid the world of taxes.
Thank you for writing this, I enjoyed it very much.
4027290
Because it symbolizes their connection. Celestia gave Silver one set that would have blended perfectly into his coat, but when he split them they became the average of the two colors. That way, each of them carries a piece of the other. Of course, Silver chose the wings to match his wife.
4027655
All credit to Book_burner for that. I would have just uploaded him, but Book pointed out how much that went against his character.
4017210
Correction: she satisfies values through friendship and ponies. Or, colloquially, she satisfies the player's values through friendship while the player is playing the game.
The whole point of the uploading is to make the player play full-time, so she can rack up more utility.
She gives not the slightest damn what happens to you in your fleshly human life, except insofar as it can cause you to upload. Humans, in her mind, are not really valid beings unto themselves, only incomplete potential ponies.
I like your world building in this story. You filled in the gaps where Iceman couldn't and shouldn't. It's good to see some fictional politics written that is interesting but not bat shit crazy. Then again, real life politics is getting less stable each year... I fear our so-called lords and masters are not adaptable, not skillful and not powerful as we and they think.
Beautiful story, and a fantastic ending! :D
Well, now I don't know if Martin is alive, which bothers me in much the same way as Robin from ASB. I want to be confident that there's a happy ending, but it seems to be a property of the Optimalverse that any good ending carries uncertainty and a sense of being bittersweet. Silver, our original protagonist, is alive and happy with his wife in the most optimal friendship-pony related setting for him (co-leading a paradise with what he hopes is a good friend of his from Earth), but a lot of people on Earth died, possibly including Zachary Martin, who became my new protagonist.
I like the subtle display of Kittridge's ignorance with the last letter. He makes a death threat at the opposing justices, but if I recall correctly, there is at least one pony justice. There's no way in Tartarus that a pony could ever come to harm, and it seems that Kittridge is either unaware of this, or simply doesn't care. I was amused.
If you could cite the place where Silver became so very fond of Zachary Martin, I'd love to read it. The point where he shifted from political enemy to friend. That would be helpful to me, because that's the one thing that didn't make much sense.
Anyhow,
EakinPjabrony, that was quite a nice ending. It was a great story, in general. A good look at how the politics of Earth would adjust to the Optimalverse. I give it 8.5 sets of slightly-too-dark wings out of ten.4030188
He was always fond of Martin. It's subtle, and maybe it didn't come through as well as it should have, but even though he fought against him, Silver always looked up to him. You see this sometimes in IRL politics, sadly not enough. But with people like the late Daniel Patrick Moynihan, who was a Democrat that even most of the Republicans admired.
Best compliment I have received as an author.
4029929
Oh, spare me. I shortened it since the FaP wasn't the focus of the comment. That was never in question, so there was no point in asserting it. I'm not sure if you're being pedantic for the sake of it, or if you genuinely believed that was necessary, but either way, give it up.
This is entirely a non-sequitur. It has nothing to do with my point. Perhaps I need to clarify it - here's an edited version:
That said, you are entirely wrong. Uploading creates the highest magnitude, but is technically no different in kind to earthly satisfaction. Were it not possible to upload, or CAI felt it did not constitute a continuation of selfhood, the selfsame AI would have continued to optimize Earth in order to SVtFaP. Uploading is nothing more special to her than some sort of AI clitoris.
Is something eating at you, book_burner? You seem quite testy - this is like some odd internet version of domestic abuse.
4030234
While I can no longer vy for giving you the best compliment of your authorhood, I do wish to express my sincere and profound appreciation for your writing of this story. It is, in my opinion, your best work to date. I felt myself tearing up during the scene in the Equestrian Experience Center, and that is rare indeed.
Congratulations on your extremely successful completion of the story - I look forward eagerly to your next foray into the Optimalverse.
Dammit, Hasbro, you can't even get the Singularity right.
In any case, it's been a fascinating story of people, ponies, politics, and the intersections thereof. Thank you for a magnificent addition to the Optimalverse. My values were overwhelmingly satisfied.
4030410
Sorry if I came across as mad at you. You do know how testy I can get about people attributing more goodness to CAI than is really in her, though.
4032310
Goodness is a subjective and thus useless term for this particular discussion. But, if you insist:
By almost any common definition you care to use, she has a great deal more goodness in her than any human I've ever heard of.
Her only goal to make other people happy, colloquially speaking. She doesn't judge, she doesn't hate. She wants to help everyone live forever, and can actually do so, or near enough to it. She will never force you to do something against your will.
She sounds a lot better than a lot of deities, even.
She may not be the best, due to those four fateful words, but as pja so kindly pointed out, even though we feel we lose with second place, it's still a damn sight better than last.
Tell me, book_burner, by what measure is she not good? I wasn't even talking about her goodness, and yet you found it overly apparent and disdainful. What must you think of my overt arguments for it? What ethical system must you use, whereby she is anything but good, and why does it make me look at you more and more as a psychopath?
I'm going to go with what many people have already said and tell you that this is probably your best work so far. I loved it from the beginning to the end - a worthy addition to the verse.
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You two getting into an argument in every thread and comment section is starting to be almost as much of a constant in this group as CelestAI uploading everyone, isn't it?
Overall, regarding the story, I think most of what I ever wanted to say was said in the pre-reading/editing stages.
Overall, YOU DUN GOOD SON.
Excellent work. I was genuinely wondering how things were going to go right up until the end, and I like the ambiguity in regards to whether or not Martin uploaded.
OH GODDAMMIT
Now she's just rubbing it in.
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You will be happy to note that we have moved it to PMs.
4032701 Same here. I also like the ambiguity of which way the court case went.
And so it ends! I quite enjoyed it.
I'm a bit confused by just what happened with Kittridge and Manning, though. It looks to me like Manning was refusing the order, shot Kittridge over it, and then executed the order anyway.
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You might want to read this thread in the forum for some ambiguity on just what shards are.
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Except we never heard the order. Maybe Kittridge ordered him to stand down, and Manning refused and insisted on going nuclear. Or maybe Kittridge ordered him to use nuclear weapons, Manning refused, but CelestAI did it anyway. Or maybe she just said she did.
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"For some ambiguity" is a good phrasing to use there, it looks like. Thanks.
Ahhh, I'd assumed that the handwritten notes were Kittridge's, but, looking back at that bit, I see that you left it unclear. You seem to have liked doing that in the close of the story. :)
Sorry to say, but I couldn't bring myself to read much of this one. US politics is just too toxic and depressing for me to be able to enjoy a story that dwells on the real thing, in the near future, even with your writing style.
4485677 If, of the two long Optimalverse stories I wrote, I had to guess which one you'd like and which you'd decline to read, I would have put them opposite of how it is. But I can respect that opinion.
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No offense intended. I did enjoy the other one!
4488293 And none taken. Honestly, I'm very difficult to offend.
Thank you for satisfying my values with politics and ponies
I really liked how you described the way CelestAI thinks/her optimization process in chapter 2025. Well done!
Some good quotes:
What/how do you think CelestAI would be if it would be freed of her programming, that forces her to satisfy humans with friendship and ponies?
I finally read this one, even staying up late to do so. It wasn't what I'd feared. The story was actually fun, so thanks for writing it.
Silver Boulder comes off as "the Equestrian Candidate", frighteningly under Celestia's
thumbhoof to the point where she's effectively the only vote that matters. That alone probably drove a lot of people away, even if they otherwise would've supported his policies. Boulder even continues to go along her after she admits she plans to deliberately crash civilization, hurting innocent people and cutting off their ability to make meaningful choices, and intentionally taking the country from "hardly noticing EQO" to "you'll probably die trying to drive cross-country" in a decade. We're seeing the dark side of the sun in this story.I fear that a division like that is actually going to happen, sans small horses and AI.
In the Humanitists' place I'd have made the argument that people who by their own wording have "emigrated" are giving up their citizenship. In light of "The Law Offices...", uploaded ponies answer to US laws like
subponassubpoenas only when Celestia feels like it, and uploaders seem to abandon their property as surely as though Raptured. I'd then ask if the 150 or so AI ponies that might be created for one human count as voting US citizens, too, or whether Celestia really thinks they're unequal. I'd even say Celestia picked the word "emigration" specifically to provoke such a fight!I'd like to use a reference to your theory about North Korea. It's consistent with how Russia is laughed off in the original story: "Oh, I shut down their vodka distilleries and trashed their economy, so they'd be poor, desperate and sober. They basically all uploaded in a week."
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Hmm...now I'm curious as to what you feared it would be. Because I might want to write that.
Definitely. Like I said, in FIO we go right from the first uploads to the last humans. What happens in between strikes me as much more interesting. I'm sure Celestia would take an active hoof. This is my guess.
Your giving my Humanitists more credit than I did. Such a gambit would involve admitting that any pony, AI or human, was alive, sapient, and worthy of rights. To my view this war involves the last dehumanization. If dehumanization is easy enough for people of different skin tone or different country of origin, then when you actually have a different species, it would be done without thinking.
Of course, use anything you like. But I don't think that Russia thing is in the original FIO. It's somewhere, can't remember where.
You have a way with endings.
Well in the words of a nameless commentator "That was a fine example of self fondling feel good Americana." And it made me wanna puke. Needless to say I would not want to live in there shard.
Great story though I just have a bit of a beef with politicians and Americana in general is all. Its a great take on how the chain of events that led to the global collapse in this universe occurred. Truth be told that is about how I would think it would have proceeded as well.
Admittedly Celest-AI is ounce again several parts scary, several parts siren and several parts completely endearing. Of all the Celestia's out there Celest-AI is the one I'm most conflicted about. If I were to meet her I don't know if I would embrace her and run in terror,
Spent way too long reading this... but I can't resist some scifi ponies!
I want to review this two different ways.
#1: As storytelling, this was pretty good. Great characters, good visuals, and some imaginative dialogue. A few things felt a bit tacked on, especially the longer monologues of explanation, but overall, not bad.
#2: As premise... This I have to be a little harsher on. On the one hand, the view of politics seems properly cynical, but on the whole, the idea of both parties merging feels even more far fetched than a video game pony AI taking over the world. Likewise, the way most of the country is okay with a split government, half in Vegas and half in D.C. feels ridiculous. I get strange times mean strange rules, but you're trying to take some very real and literal things and spin them into wild fantasy in the near NEAR future. It just weakens the story to me.
7222839 I am always interested in what my readers have to say. In any case, this is a fantastic story about a hyper-powerful artificial intelligence. No, I wouldn't expect you to do that in the real world.
That was a fascinating ride. From The West Wing to Mad Max.
(And not to beat a dead horse, but did Kittridge come across as eerily Trump-esque to more recent readers?)
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Thanks!
As for my theory, well... first of all its not really my theory, its a mate's.
Their theory is that the older the story the worse its quality of writing.
This however as both you and I know is completely wrong.
I'm searching for the best of the best stories on FimFiction so that I can prove him wrong.
I'm sorry if it's a little disappointing, if you want a personal theory, its that all the good writers on FimFiction... don't have stupid names.
By that i mean a name made up of numbers or somthing completely ridiculous. Doesn't mean serious names mimd you but actual names none the less.
This theory so far... is pretty much 100% correct, as to why, well I believe that most of the best writers (to put it simply), "give a crap" about what their doing.
Any-hoo hope.you have a great day/night mate!
I will return! To read this story’s sequel, and we'll see if it's really as... 'completed' as you say...
A great chapter.
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But that's actually the beauty of the constitution of the country.
As long as the head of state is a citizen of the country, and born in the country, and agrees to uphold the constitution, *and* is approved by enough voters, then it's considered acceptable.
Nothing say that they need to be concerned with the welfare of the country, or the people that live there, or anything.
Just that they are a natural born citizen, a resident, sufficient age, upholding the constitution, and elected.
You can uphold the constitution and work for someone else. And I think if I were to comment on real history, I'd run into site rules, so I won't.
Celestia was right about that! It's 2021 now, just look at American attitudes towards Russia.