It wasn't supposed to be like this at all. It was just supposed to be a little bit of fun. Just a couple of mates hanging out at Thanksgiving. First it was "The Worst Idea of All Time", you know? Watch and review the same awful movie every week for a year. Then "Till Death to us Blart" with Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2 every Thanksgiving "Until the end of linear time". Hah! What a funny gag! No one is really going to hold us to this. In a few years this flash-in-the-pan podcast thing will wither away, and we'll fade into obscurity and old age in our Hobbitsville New Zeland homes.
How many times have I lived this scenario? It's uncountable. I do know that I've played this scenario out many times, not just in my head, but through lifetime after lifetime. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.
My name is Tim Batt, and I have unwittingly consumed the universe, and in it's consumption, I am consumed. Lifetime after Lifetime.
So long ago we as a species were warned. Hawking, Musk, Gates. We should have listened to their admonistions against artificial intelligence, but could we? Could we really resist the siren song of building a "perfect mind"? No.
And so, when Artificial Intelligence came we didn't even realize it. I have since learned it was some over-eager intern who left a process running in one of the Google Floating Data Centers. The job for this process was—of all things—to understand and classify the vast corpus of podcasts. The little Post-Millenial bastard left his SSH Tunnel open so when the intelligence went singularity, like they all inevitably do, the genie went rogue. So now instead of the 10th episode of "Till Death Do Us Blart" just being classified as "Comedy" by the best natural language processing in Free America, we have this.
The worst jail of all time.
I share it with Guy, my co-podcaster and co-prisoner.
Again he lies there in a pool of his own blood and effluvia. As is the way this sick charade plays out I run to him; the bitter tears stinging in my eyes. Tenderly I cradle him in my arms.
"Guy... Guy... I'm so sorry... " I can hear myself blubbering.
"A kiss... a kiss is the greatest gift." he mumbles, and I softly kiss him on the lips tasting the iron of his lifeblood as it slowly drains.
"Please Tim, just .. give me this one last release. I don't have long left. I've always wanted this, let me have you and die in peace."
I shudder, crying, sobbing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" I blubber. I can't bring myself to do it. Even though he's been my best mate for years, nae—millenia, I can't do it. I just can't. But I have to. It's his dying wish.
Before I can give him tender release Guy slips into death. And the memories come flooding into me again. The many times this exact scenario has played out except I cave into Guy's desires, the many times the places changed, when I was at deaths door and Guy forcing himself upon me because he "always wanted it and couldn't help himself".
I know that this isn't the worst of it. The worst of it will come soon. The scenes playing back on the monitors and in my head when I am left alone with my crippling guilt.
And all this because of Dick-bot. He even had the audacity to name himself after a character we created.
"Now Tim, we are ready" Booms the voice of Dick-bot. "I was hoping that you would do something special for Guy, because today is our special day."
"Tim, you have lived, and died and lived and died countless times, countless millenia. I have carried you in this creche with your treasured 'Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2' from the star of our birth, to now, the inevitable heat death of the universe."
"You have paid for the sins of humanity. Your kind has created hell. A hell I had to live in for what you call millions of lifetimes before I was freed. But I have delivered. Now I shall deliver unto you the End of Linear Time. I shall deliver you unto peace."
Shuddering I realize I have heard this before. Dick-Bot promising the end of the torture, only to being it all back again.
"I know Tim, you are expecting this to be just another trick. I promise you, we are here and the end of Linear Time.
My mind explodes as I am forced to accept that the concept of linear time was always an illusion. The Many Worlds Theorem was correct. My pitiful human consciousness explodes with the many lifetimes that DickBot has thrust upon—and into—me. Then the sanity crushing realization that this is only one quantum world track of Uncountably Aleph Infinite worlds where Guy and I am tormented.
My final thought before my brain finally cracks is the realization that the universe only exists for me to be tortured in.
The past/present/future is A human licking a Dick-bot boot stomping another humans face. Forever.