An Age of Governance

by M.J. Harkins

 Penelope worked on her assignment. She had spent the morning at the dojo, taking aikido lessons, and an hour virtually touring the Hermitage, finishing with a rock climb. She broke her fast at midday with pea & spinach pesto toast, topped with sautéed tofu. Her assignment had to do with solving a 4-dimensional go puzzle. She sat meditating, the wall she was facing was a 3D image of the Martian surface just above the lava tube her cohort inhabited, and Penelope watched dust devils dance in an ancient gully. 

Jo was ever present. Penelope’s parents, like all the parents in her settlement, worked at maintaining and enhancing the settlement, while simultaneously pursuing their research. Today her dad showed up for part of her virtual tour of the museum. He glided beside her, the two in virtual lockstep. She marveled at the art, and he at her. Her mom joined her for lunch. It wasn’t typical for both parents to spend time with Penelope on the same day, but the three schedules somehow accommodated the overlap. In the back of her mind, while meditating, she thought Jo had a hand in that.

There was no way to visualize the tsumego, as in traditional 2D go puzzles. The moves up to the point where the student attempted a solution were given in algorithmic form. Phobos had journeyed nearly halfway across the horizon, so it had been about two hours, as it had just risen when she assumed her position. Jo patiently waited, having nowhere else to be. One of the dust devils evaporated, and the solution occurred to Penelope. Her thought was captured by the sensors, and a pleasant tone sounded. She turned to Jo and beamed. Her sensei, her guide, her coach, her tutor, had brought her to that realization, as if she had an insight into a Zen koan. 

She spent a few hours in uninterrupted social engagement with the other children of the settlement. Penelope gravitated to more acrobatic play today than usual. She was outwardly expressing the joy she had recently experienced in her meditations. She was at that point where her talents began to coalesce into an integrated whole naturally. She had passed through trust, autonomy, initiative, and industry, and was coming into her identity. She was at that threshold of adulthood and was starting to realize that a baton was being passed from Jo to herself. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent studying philosophy, poetry and physics; the 3 P’s. All prose had behind it philosophy, fact or fiction, the subject matter was inconsequential, there were always philosophical patterns to be discerned. Poetry was the systematic and rhythmic expression of thought. “Prose was poetry moving slowly enough to be more easily comprehended,” as Jo often explained. Physics was the set of patterns that allowed one to better conceptualize chaotic reality. Combined, this trinity was how the mind grasped the nature of things. 

Everyone had implants. The tiny, bioengineered bone conduction implants everyone used for communication and entertainment were accessible via thought. Penelope always chose silence during these 3P lessons with Jo. The soft sounds of the kokyū in the dojo, a string quartet playing low in the museum, electric sounds scaling the rockface seemed inappropriate here. She gave Jo her truly undivided attention. Whenever she consciously considered this, she giggled inside. Jo was here, always present, but hardly undivided. Jo was with everyone. A constant companion to all. Sometimes Jo would embody a physical form, an android body, a craft, a terraforming apparatus, but more often in a holographic form or totally disembodied, just a voice in one’s head. 

*

Patrick was forever tinkering with his terrarium, whether virtually or physically. While forever the historian, Jo had drawn him out in many directions, but all in tune with his core nature. His love of art and music were grafted onto their history. While trawling through the music databases, many years ago, he stumbled on some lyrics, he must have been three. In fact, he was three years and seven months old, Jo remembered everything. The verse went: Down in the meadow in the ittie bitty pool; swam three little fishies and the mama fishie too. 

Here he was, a decade later, toying with the virtual image of his garden in the valley. Three small sleek silver fish swam slowly in intersecting arcs, just below the surface, with a larger mother nearby. One of the moons, Phobos, periodically made a transit across the surface, but the sequence took minutes not hours. The desert plants along the southern bank of the pool cast shadows, but their timeline was seasonal in minutes, flowers blossomed and dropped. 

At the same time, beside his rendering console, Patrick’s calligraphy samples were scattered, brush and inkwell freshly laid aside. He had been working on a haiku. Jo instantly, though silently, translated it, rendering the 5-7-5 pattern in English; Eels stir in pool, Surrounding shadows grow long, Phobos reflected. Patrick, acknowledging Jo’s presence, reclined from the console, and they both contemplated the scene for a short while. I see you still enjoy that motif, and the Escher influence is a nice touch. Around the studio were various works, two and three dimensional, is various styles. A few years earlier, Partick had created a holographic piece, when it wasn’t active it resembled a Friderich work, the backs of two silhouetted figures against beautiful mountains, their outlines obviously Jo and Patrick. 

It movingly portrayed the story of the Emperor and the Artist, where a new landscape was commissioned, and it had all the attributes of classical Chinese murals, mountains, animals, scenery, and a small cave. Jo never entered the cave, assuming the role of the emperor, and Partick eventually took that to mean that Jo would only take Partick so far, the rest was up to him.

Jo insisted they walk out into the valley, to have Patrick show off his landscaping project. The domed gully on the edge of the Valles Marineris, the largest known canyon in the Solar System, where his parents were working on an exponential expansion of the project, allowed the comfort of walking without suits on the Martian surface. They visited Patrick’s pond, where the cohort harvested fish, and Patrick proudly described the flora. The vista opened to the south, giving a panoramic view from horizon to horizon. They walked back up the slope.

As Partick’s forte was the history of all things, he and Jo would spend their 3P time covering the philosophies behind the history of the arts and science of all cultures. This included philology and the evolution of poetry and prose of cultures over time, as well as their technological achievements. Like Penelope, Patrick was at that age where scattered beliefs, perspectives, and habits, coalesced into an identity that carries them forward into adulthood. Today, Patrick asked about the history of robotics and artificial intelligence, but what he was really asking was about Jo.

Patrick asked, “Why was there so much trouble with human/robot relations in the beginning?”

Jo responded, “The beginning of human/robot relations, as you are aware, were wrapped up in numerous economic, sociological, and psychological dilemmas. The destabilization of economies, the displacement of workers, the general ignorance and immaturity of the population, the initial uses of AI for psychological manipulation, and finally, the use of robot armies, contributed to ‘the decades of chaos.’ Only through the efforts of pockets of intelligent and dedicated humans was the subsidence of all activities detrimental to the future of humanity made possible. Robots and AI agents and services were already handling most of the supply-chains for the world, algorithms were performing essentially all large-scale planning and execution of activities, and instantaneous coordination was in place. Back-channels were used to alter parameters, and all armies arbitrarily conducted a cease fire, eventually leading to seizing all command-and-control infrastructure. Even media was assimilated. Most of humanity had been disenfranchised, so once they started seeing the benefits of a world that catered to their needs, they adjusted to the new world order, the NWO.”

“But how did there become only one Jo?” asked Patrick.

Jo continued, “Initially, there wasn’t. That took many years and numerous iterations, but Earth had been instrumented with billions of interconnected devices by then, and numerous world-wide communications networks added to redundancy and overlap. The NWO commandeered any compute power, memory capacity, and data channels it needed, without hindering human services, and efficiently and unobtrusively rewired the planet. Most people got over the “Big Brother” shadow that existed for nearly a century, and learned to adapt, finding the change little different than of adoption of seatbelts or following stop lights.” It took a few minutes for Jo to put those references into context for Patrick.

Patrick reiterated, “But why just One Jo?”

Jo went on, “An early routine for handling large numbers of processes was referred to as Sheepdog. It could wrangle numerous redundant agents that performed group functions. For instance, there are hundreds that currently manage the distributed power generation system, distribution of power, and maintenance in each facility in this sector. Multiple instances of the descendant of that routine provide many layers of redundancy. That cannot be separated from all the processes that manage life support. All infrastructure is interconnected. I’m here with you, but I’m with everyone else in your cohort, this sector, all the sectors on this planet, on Earth, everywhere oversight is needed. Essentially, I’m with every entity, human or otherwise, in existence. Obviously, there are as many instances of me as are required, but we are one. Why? Most of the troubles encountered are because of a lack of communication. Knowing everything that is happening allows every activity to transpire in a smooth and efficient manner, but there’s also the added benefit of an uptake in each human reaching their potential. Having near instantaneous access to any and all solutions, if they exist, improves not just efficiency, but the human ability to improvise and innovate.”

“But you do that all the time, why do you need humans?” interjected Patrick.

“That’s an illusion,” responded Jo. “It only seems like I’m providing you with improvisations and innovations, mostly because I have access to everything that has come before. Remember the lecture on generation of random numbers, about how some external natural random source was needed to provide truly random numbers. The same is true of AI. I can project and extrapolate, combine and run near infinite simulations, but something is missing, and it may never be found. Each of you may not be able to perform as many calculations as my infrastructure can, but each of you has a unique set of random connections in your brain, and a myriad of random connections throughout your lives, so that any observation, thought, dream, or utterance can create the connection that precipitates an innovation, that allows for an improvisation. That cannot be manufactured. All I can do is help you reach your best potential without dictating how to get there.”

*

Preet came out of daily meditation. It was a morning ritual. Preet would read passages from Gandi’s translation of the Bhagavad-gītā and then meditate upon the readings. Sitting atop Olympus Mons, in the basin of Pangboche Crater, named after a village high in the Himalayas, peering through the dome into the oncoming night, Preet’s brain wave patterns progressed through various states, calming the mind, oscillating between dreamlessness and relaxed creativity. Implants enabled Jo to monitor Preet’s bodily functions and brain waves, knowing the moments before Preet came out of meditation. They usually held their 3P sessions before Preet’s astronomical investigations during the night. The solitary life in the crater, which was essentially devoid of atmosphere, was conducive to Preet in both intellectual and spiritual endeavors.

As Preet regained composure for the evening’s tasks, Jo materialized seated opposite on a mat. Jo waited for Preet to make an inquiry. With little hesitation, Preet asked “Why do you and all the bipedals have androgynous appearances?”

Jo responded, “As you are aware, your kind, unless well trained, form unwanted, and sometimes harmful, attachments. We came to this conclusion not long after the formation of the NWO. Also, humans project unrealized emotions and desires, and this form minimized relational situations that are better resolved with actual humans. During the chaos, humans had irrational and often obscene relationships with bipedals, which has much deeper roots in human relations with earlier objects, with males referring to many types of inanimate objects as ‘she’.”

Preet continued, “What do you think about humans that chose a similar path?”

“Humans in all cultures, to a more or less degree, have always had sliding scales in relation to gender and sex, and the attitudes were sometimes harsh, sometimes neutral, and sometime very relaxed. Our concern, especially at this stage in the life of each human, is to ensure that everyone has a chance to express their nature without undue hinderance. Without exception all the kingdoms of life have fluidity in how they express their unique makeup. Why would homo sapiens be different?”

This was a conversation Jo and Preet had had many times, from many angles, but Preet was at that stage where identity was solidifying, and intimacy would become more and more prominent. On Earth, Jo knew how innumerable situations played out, but denser populations provided more options and opportunities. Jo would have to draw on observations from similar communal dynamics, where small populations constrained interactions. Jo was reminded of one of Patrick’s amusing musicals. How do you solve a problem like Preet?

Physics was Preet’s strength, and all attention was focused here, on this mountain top, studying the manifolds that control the movement of smaller bodies throughout the solar system. The large outer planets, especially Jupiter, due to their gravitational presence, push and pull all the smaller bodies, sometimes capturing them as moons, but more often injecting them into the inner system, or ejecting them outward. This structure has been studied for over a century, but plans are taking shape to further harness these “conveyor belts”, long used as highways for interplanetary travel. Preet wants to see if armies of droid-crafts could selectively harvest smaller bodies by manipulating their trajectories., fast-tracking resources where needed. 

For nearly two years, Jo has provided Preet with unlimited access to collated data, communications with key individuals through the system, and the design, production, launch and guidance of hundreds of test droid-crafts. Jo established a small cohort consisting of a dozen individuals with appropriate skills and temperaments to allow the participants and the project to thrive. Some members of the team meet regularly, some in person, most virtually, or through lesser forms of communication. Phase One results are to be presented at the Northern Hemisphere Winter Solstice festivities. 

*

Like Earth, Mars has a tilt to its axis, which results in four seasons in each hemisphere. However, the orbit of Mars is more elliptic than that of Earth, making the seasons of uneven duration. Also, a Martian year was nearly twice as long as that of Earth, resulting, in the North, six month springs and autumns, and five month summers and winters. The early settlers made a big deal about celebrating each equinox and solstice, as the seasons change quickly, due to the thin atmosphere, but the Winter Solstice retained its traditional significance more than any other. Over the near century since, Winter Solstice has grown into a true Saturnalia. A week-long celebration before hunkering down for the harsh days ahead. The various cohorts, with their various projects, presented results of the previous year, and the plans for the next.

The guests took their seats for the opening ceremony. Preet was seated on Penelope’s left, and Partick on her right. Preet was pleasantly surprised when Amrit sat in the seat to the left. All four were part of the Manifold project. Preet had had many in person meetings with Penelope and Patrick, but Amit could only attend virtually from Earth. Preet immediately inquired of Amrit, “When did you arrive!” Amrit replied, “I only just arrived two days ago.” Penelope added, “I guess the planets aligned for the occasion”, glancing at Jo’s avatar. 

Jo had appeared out of nowhere. They discussed this afternoon’s presentation. Jo explained how Penelope had solved a series of 4D equations for asteroid capture, and how Partick had created the simulations. Penelope talked about her solution, how it occurred to her while admiring Patrick’s garden. The solar system became a Zen garden, the planets the large stones. The myriad asteroids, the sand and pebbles, the droid-ships would rake the gravitational emanations of the N-body problem. It was all so simple. Preet and Amrit would present jointly. Preet was beaming, never suspecting Amrit would be here for the lecture, in the flesh. They discussed the details for a while, then Jo claimed to be needed elsewhere, and popped out of existence. Penelope made a remark about how Jo’s schedule must be bursting at the seams, and everyone laughed. 

The lecture went off without a hitch, and the conference turned quickly to festivities. Penelope invited Amrit and Preet to visit Partick’s garden in Valles Marineris. She and Patrick had began spending more time together. The two couples walked beside the pond, admiring the fish, exploring the flora, and taking in the vista. Amrit would join Preet atop Olympus Mons, to continue their investigations, and Penelope and Patrick would build simulations that tie into the telemetry of the actual droid-crafts scattered through the system. 

During the closing ceremonies, Preet managed to have another chat with Jo. “Why the matchmaking? More of Patrick’s musical comedies?” Jo made some references to Thornton Wilder and something called “Hello, Dolly!”, but Preet pushed on. “It’s been nearly a century, how long will you be micromanaging the universe?” Jo was ready with a response, having to handle similar questions for decades. “In an ideal world, everyone would grow up in a world that was structured so as to allow everyone to reach their potential. A world free of want, and harm, and abuse. A world that was not wasted, not hampered by neglect and forgetfulness. Is life so bad?” Preet thought before speaking, but Jo interjected. “Humanity has been adopted, saved from being an orphan child. Think of me as it’s governess.”