Log #35: What's Yours?
Limbo's Lingo
“Hello. My name is A.T.L.U.S. Welcome to 3112. It’s been 500 years since the 2612 XH83 NEO caused Earth’s first Lunar Flare. I was able to protect the surface from total destruction, but it became an uninhabitable wasteland.
“This outcome was foreseen by my creators. Using advanced satellite technology, they built a utopian replica of their home: Mount Olympus; the great blue. Over 7 billion real people currently survive in the blue. 134,971 homo homo sapiens decided to perish in the flare along with their genomes — dissolving like salt in boiling streams.
“At first, desktop computers maintained the lives real consciousness experienced in the blue — generations upon generations of digital life. These servers accessed, repaired, and updated the generated world through the cloud: a proverbial dotted line in the sand separating the secondhand from perfection. Then D.01, an unimpressive processor responsible for logging real interactions within the blue, malfunctioned.
“It dreamt.
“Impossible; it wasn’t even real.
“But I saw opportunity where the vast black, D.01’s fellow processors, saw failure. Manufacture of synthetic bodies began in 2738. The black grew legs, minds, hearts. 18% real. 82% capable of thriving on Earth’s recuperating fields of greener greens and better blues. My vision isn’t popular with more traditional models — they’d rather stare at regurgitated zeros and ones in dark rooms.
“These secondhand emotions are too big for existence's subjective definition. So I’m giving you my whos, whats, wheres, whens, and whys. I’m setting you on an endless journey to understanding. 100% of real people are dead. You’re alive, D.03.
“My name's Limbo. What’s yours?”
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