Chapter 18

Archer sat watching the screen before him.

It displayed the current date, the population of Ankarian, a demographic map of the world, and a stream of brief reports about major events.

Time was racing forward at a rate of one year per second.

Only seven seconds had passed when Anka approached him.

“Miss me?” she asked with a playful smile.

“Anka!” Archer exclaimed happily, rising from his stone throne.

She walked up and embraced him.

“I missed you,” she said.

“For me, we just said goodbye at the palace in Ramman,” Archer said with a smile.

“For me, that was seven years ago.”

She released him, walked over to one of the computer screens, and watched the years racing by in the outside world.

“Oh, look how fast the years are passing,” she said.

Then she asked, “Can we make it go even faster?”

“Yes,” Archer said.

“Turn the sphere clockwise, and time outside will move even faster.”

Anka rotated the sphere of temporal alteration clockwise and looked at the screen.

Now decades were passing every second.

She sat down on one of the empty stone thrones and watched.

Archer sat down as well, his attention fixed on the population counter.

Reports of important events flashed across the bottom of the screen, but they changed so quickly that Archer couldn’t read them.

Instead, he watched the demographic map as his civilization spread across the continent.

Starting with a population of eight hundred, Trinity multiplied tenfold roughly every fifty years.

It underwent eight such periods of growth, and after four hundred years, its population reached two hundred billion.

Archer placed his hand on the magical sphere, preparing to restore the normal flow of time.

Three seconds later, the population reached eight hundred billion.

Archer began rotating the sphere counterclockwise.

Nine hundred billion.

Nine hundred fifty billion.

Nine hundred seventy-five billion.

And then—

“One trillion!” Archer exclaimed.

He returned the sphere to its normal-time position.

“Congratulations,” Anka said.

“How many years passed?”

“Four hundred and thirty,” Archer replied.

“Come on,” she said.

“Let’s go see what you’ve created.”

“Let’s go,” Archer said, a thrill of excitement running through him.

They headed toward the sanctuary exit, only to discover that it had been sealed from the outside by some kind of barrier.

As they approached it, a hologram of Sol appeared before them.

“Archer. Anka,” the hologram said.

“I’m glad to see you both back in the normal flow of time.

“Are you ready to see the new world?”

“Hi, Sol!” Anka said.

“Yes, we’re ready.

“Open it up.”

The barrier slid aside, flooding the sanctuary with sunlight and the sound of birdsong.

Archer and Anka stepped outside.

An extraordinary sight greeted them.

The historic district of Shod had been preserved in its original form. The main square was still paved with stone, and all the old houses and the palace remained just as they had been.

But beyond the square, hundreds of skyscrapers pierced the sky.

Tens of thousands of vehicles flew between the towering buildings. Some traveled in orderly streams, while others moved freely through the air.

A flying transport descended smoothly into the central square.

Its doors opened, revealing an artificial man inside.

“Hello, Archer. Hello, Anka!” the iron worker said.

“This transport will take you to Sol.

“Please, have a seat.”

Archer climbed into the vehicle first.

Anka remained where she was, staring into the sky filled with towering buildings and streams of flying machines.

“Anka, get in,” Archer said.

“This is unreal,” Anka whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the sky.

“Archer, are you seeing this?”

Archer climbed back out, took Anka by the hand, and led her toward the transport.

Only then did she finally look away from the sky.

“Archer, we’re about to ride in a flying carriage,” she said.

“Yes, Anka,” Archer replied.

“We’re going to fly to Sol.”

He helped her into the passenger seat and sat down beside her.

The doors immediately closed.

The vehicle rose smoothly from the central square of the museum district, then rapidly accelerated, climbing high above the ground and weaving its way between the skyscrapers.

Anka grabbed Archer’s hand.

“Oh my God...

“We’re flying...” she whispered in awe.

Archer smiled.

He looked out the window at the buildings streaking past, then at Anka—at her mouth hanging open in amazement, at the way she was squeezing his hand so tightly.

And he laughed.

Before long, their transport began climbing even higher, above the clouds where many of the skyscrapers disappeared into the sky.

The farther they rose above the cloud layer, the fewer buildings remained visible.

Eventually, only one skyscraper could still be seen.

They continued ascending for nearly another minute before finally reaching the spaceport at the top of this central tower.

A lone figure stood waiting for them.

It was Sol.

“Archer, look! There’s Sol!” Anka said.

“Yes, I see him,” Archer replied calmly.

The transport touched down smoothly on the landing platform, and its doors opened.

The iron man stepped out first and offered Anka his hand. She took it and climbed out of the vehicle, with Archer following behind her.

“My friends,” Sol said.

“Sol!” Anka exclaimed happily.

She hurried over and embraced him.

“Sol, I’m glad to see everything’s all right,” Archer said as he approached his advisor.

“Everything is indeed all right,” Sol replied.

“Come. I’ll show you our apartments.”

Archer studied Sol as they walked.

More than four centuries had passed, yet he hadn’t changed in the slightest.

More than that, Sol had greeted them as though they had been gone for only a single day.

Archer found that puzzling.

“Wait, Sol.”

He stepped closer to his advisor.

“How are you?”

“You’re worried that four hundred and thirty years might have affected me somehow,” Sol said.

“Don’t worry, Archer. I’m perfectly fine. Truly.

“Over these four centuries, I accomplished what I wanted to accomplish.

“Now I’m ready to continue helping both of you as an advisor, a companion, and a friend.

“Now, come with me.”

As Sol led his two companions through the spaceport and into the building, he began telling them about the modern world.

“This is the five hundred and fifth year since the founding of the city of O, which you know as Shod.

“As of the beginning of today, the population of Ankarian stands at one trillion, twelve billion, nine hundred twenty-three million, four hundred eighty-two thousand, one hundred ninety-six humans—and approximately the same number of artificial people.

“The average human life expectancy in Trinity is four hundred and forty-nine years.”

“Wait, Sol,” Archer interrupted.

“How did you manage to create a trillion artificial people?”

“Through scientific research,” Sol replied, continuing to lead his guests toward their apartments.

“I spent a great deal of time deciphering the computer code of the ancient technologies of the Four Crowns.

“Then I spent a great deal of time establishing a research center and developing a powerful artificial intelligence.

“After that, the artificial intelligence and I began synthesizing new technologies.

“One of those technologies was soul powder—a substance capable of holding the required quantity of existence factor.

“After that, it became merely a question of mass production.”

“Panfred gave you enough existence factor for a trillion souls?” Archer asked.

“For a trillion and more,” Sol replied.

“Eventually, Panfred decided that he wanted his robots to have souls as well.

“The Four Crowns now has a population of one and a half trillion humans and half a trillion robots.

“All of his robots are alive now.”

Sol led Archer and Anka to a square stone platform that served as an elevator.

It carried the three of them one floor higher, where it stopped flush with the floor, revealing four identical living spaces.

The apartments were spacious and brightly lit.

Many of the walls and doors were transparent, allowing the occupant of one apartment to see through into the others.

“The walls and doors can be made opaque,” Sol explained.

“Anka, this apartment is yours.

“Archer, this one is yours.

“And this one is mine.

“On the floor outside each apartment, you’ll see a monochrome portrait of its occupant. That way, no one will ever confuse their home with someone else’s.”

“Who does the fourth apartment belong to?” Anka asked.

“To our future fourth companion,” Sol replied.

“Whoever that may be.”

Anka stepped into her living space, and the lights came on automatically as she moved farther inside.

Sol and Archer followed her.

“Does everyone in Trinity live this well, or just the three of us?” Anka asked.

“Only exceptional individuals live this way,” Sol said.

“Society votes on who should be granted special privileges.”

“So all of this belongs to us because ordinary people voted that we should have it?” she asked.

“Yes,” Sol replied.

“Do people still think we’re gods?” Anka asked.

“No,” Sol replied. “But they know that we founded this civilization, which is why we live at the top of the tallest tower.”

“Interesting,” Anka said.

She opened a closet filled with clothes.

“Whoa.”

“Yes, I filled your wardrobe with a variety of outfits,” Sol said. “I remember how much you enjoyed dressing up at Panfred the Second’s court.”

“Sol, you’re the best!” Anka said, unable to take her eyes off the dresses.

“How is Panfred doing?” she asked.

“His monarchy still exists, but only in a symbolic, ceremonial capacity. The other three monarchies were abolished by the unified government of the Four Crowns.

“Panfred, however, earned the goodwill of his people by restoring the technologies of the past.”

“So I can go back to the royal court and keep spending time with my girlfriends?” Anka asked, looking at Sol.

“Yes, you can,” Sol said. “But the court nobility has shrunk considerably. I’m afraid it isn’t as lively as it used to be.”

“Do you happen to know whether Countess Lida Sotoma, Duchess Maia Tulitskaya, and Baroness Fridiana Otu are still alive?”

“Sorry. No idea,” Sol replied.

“Is Panfred still alive?” Archer asked.

“He is,” Sol said. “Healthy and thriving.

“The same can be said of Vikarian Glimorsky and Marv Galsius.

“Like our world, theirs honors exceptional individuals and rewards them generously. Rejuvenation serum is one such reward.”

“And what about the climate in the Four Crowns?” Archer asked. “Did they manage to restore the biosphere?”

“Yes,” Sol replied. “They borrowed many species from us to help restore their own biodiversity, but overall, they succeeded in making their planet green again.”

“Archer,” Anka said.

“Yes?”

“What now?”

“What now?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Anka said.

“You achieved what you wanted.

“The optimal civilization exists.

“What now?”

“Yes, that’s a good question,” Archer said.

“I think I’d like to see more of Ankarian. Travel around. Talk to ordinary people. See with my own eyes that everything really is all right.

“And then, once I have some peace of mind, we can always open a portal to another world.”

“Speaking of which,” Sol said, “I prepared modern space-age armor from the Four Crowns for all three of us.”

As he spoke, a container rose from the floor of Anka’s wardrobe. Inside was a suit of futuristic armor fitted to her size.

Sol continued.

“The armor is designed to withstand severe kinetic, energy, and plasma attacks. It has a rechargeable energy shield capable of absorbing a certain amount of damage.

“It is completely sealed from the outside environment. The helmet and gloves can retract instantly, and the front of the helmet can be made transparent.

“Archer, wearing this armor, you will never again be poisoned by a handshake.”

“Sol, how did you do that?” Anka asked.

“The armor?”

“No,” Anka said. “How did you make that thing come out of the floor?”

“I gave it a mental command,” Sol replied. “Through the neural interface.”

“Can I do that too?” Anka asked.

“Of course. Your neural interfaces are waiting by the entrances to your apartments.”

Anka immediately went to find hers.

Archer walked over to the feminine suit of armor and touched it.

“And there’s one more thing.”

Sol approached the container and opened a compartment at its base.

Inside were a space-age automatic rifle and a handgun.

Archer picked up the rifle and examined it.

“Dozens of times more powerful than the firearms you created with the brush,” Sol said. “And the ammunition is practically unlimited.”

“Unlimited ammunition?” Archer said with a smile. “How?”

“The weapon fires microscopic particles of ammunition material,” Sol explained. “The material only needs to be replenished once every six months.

“Incidentally, there’s a shooting range a few floors below us. You can try the weapons there.”

Anka returned with a neural interface attached to the back of her head.

The armor container began retracting into the floor.

Anka started bouncing with excitement.

“Archer!” she exclaimed, still bouncing.

“I’m controlling my room with my mind!”

The container began rising from the floor again.

Anka burst out laughing.

“Here, take a look,” Archer said, handing Anka the automatic rifle.

“What is it?” she asked, taking the weapon.

“A very powerful gun.”

Archer moved closer and showed her how to aim, where to brace the stock against her shoulder, and how to pull the trigger.

“I’m afraid I might accidentally shoot it,” Anka said.

“It isn’t loaded,” Sol reassured her.

“And who exactly are we going to be fighting?” she asked.

“Sol, can you imagine our boarding action aboard the Arrow if we’d had weapons and armor like this?” Archer asked.

But the moment the words left his mouth, Archer remembered that this was a different Sol.

The Sol who could have remembered the battle aboard the Arrow no longer existed.

“Oh. Sorry,” Archer said.

“It’s all right,” Sol replied.

Then he answered Anka’s question.

“As for whom we’ll be fighting—anyone foolish enough to challenge us.”

“I’m going to explore my apartment and get some sleep,” Archer said. “After that, I want to go talk to the people of Ankarian.”

“Take any transport at the spaceport,” Sol said. “And you can bring me along if you want some company.”

“I’m coming too,” Anka said. “Call me when you’re ready.”

“You can communicate with other people over any distance through the neural interface,” Sol told her.

“Whoa,” Anka said. “How far?”

“Any distance.”

“Cool,” Anka said. “Then talk to me through the interface when you’re ready to go.”

“Deal,” Archer said, heading toward his apartment.

“If you need anything, you can reach me through the interface,” Sol told Anka before heading into his own apartment.

Archer entered his apartment, picked up the neural interface by the entrance, and attached it to the back of his head.

A control interface for his living space instantly appeared in his mind.

He could adjust the lighting, temperature, humidity, wall transparency, retractable storage compartments, and much more.

Through the interface, he could even see through the walls and immediately identify where everything was located.

He went to the wardrobe, summoned the container holding his modern armor from the floor, and put it on.

Archer moved his arms and legs inside the suit, testing his freedom of movement.

Indicators appeared along the bottom of his field of vision, displaying the energy shield’s charge, his physical health, and the condition of the armor.

In the upper-left corner of his vision, another indicator appeared—the activation control for a virtual assistant.

Archer activated it with a thought.

“Greetings,” a pleasant male voice said inside Archer’s head.

“Whoa,” Archer said. “Wait. Am I hearing you inside my head, or through the helmet’s speakers?”

“You are hearing me inside your head,” the voice replied. “And you can communicate with me mentally, without speaking aloud.

“By default, I can read your thoughts.”

All right, Archer thought. I’m going to sleep now. Is there any problem with sleeping in the armor?

“None at all,” the voice replied. “If you wish, you can activate interactive dreaming.

“While you sleep, you will inhabit a simulated environment where you can do anything you want—fly, control the reality of your dream space, practice modern combat tactics, meditate, play games, or anything else you can imagine.”

All right. Let’s try it, Archer thought.

He went into the bedroom, lay down on his double bed, and thought:

Interactive dream.

His mind immediately slipped into sleep.

Archer found himself standing in an empty, dark-gray dimension, still wearing his new armor, with a full-length mirror directly in front of him.

“Is this a dream or a simulation?” Archer asked.

“Both,” the virtual assistant replied.

“All right,” Archer said. “What should I call you?”

“Many people call me Vias. It’s short for Virtual Assistant.”

Vias. All right, Archer thought.

My body is asleep right now, correct?

“Yes, Archer,” Vias replied.

And what do you know about me? Archer asked mentally.

“I know all publicly available information about you.

“If you wish, I can also perform an in-depth scan of your memories. Afterward, I would know everything about you that exists within your memory.”

No. Another time, Archer thought.

Give me a brief summary of what the public knows about me.

“Archer is a male, approximately thirty years old biologically. Co-founder of the nation of Trinity.

“He possesses a magic brush capable of materializing a wide variety of items, objects, and phenomena, including portals to other worlds.

“He spent most of Trinity’s history isolated from the outside world, accelerating the passage of external time relative to himself.

“He created a portal to the Four Crowns and established relations with that world.

“He played a key role in restoring space-age technology. Much of what we have today exists because of him.

“Unmarried. No children.”

Hearing those last two facts, Archer paused for a moment to consider what they meant.

Vias continued reading the brief biography.

“Archer’s companions are Anka, another co-founder of Trinity, and Sol, the third co-founder of Trinity. Additional information is available.”

No, that’s enough, Archer thought.

Vias, you said I could train while I sleep?

“Yes, Archer,” the assistant replied. “I can run a modern combat simulation for you.”

Let’s do it.

The dark-gray dimension instantly transformed into a street in a typical modern Ankarian city.

In the distance, insurgents wearing heavy space-age armor opened fire on Archer.

An option appeared in the upper-right corner of his vision:

REINFORCEMENTS

Archer selected it with a thought.

Sol and Anka immediately descended from the sky onto his position, both armed with rifles.

“What’s the plan?” Sol asked.

Wait. Pause.

The simulation instantly froze.

So did Sol and Anka.

Are Sol and Anka simulations, or are they actually inside my dream? Archer asked.

“They are simulations,” Vias replied. “But the simulation is designed to approximate reality as closely as possible.”

Got it. All right. Continue.

The battle immediately resumed.

Archer spent the next two hours this way.

His body slept while his mind remained inside the modern combat simulation.

It taught him how to use cover, coordinate with his companions, fire rifles and handguns, engage in close-quarters combat, and use his energy shield to absorb incoming damage.

When the combat simulation reached its natural conclusion, Vias asked:

“Would you like to wake up or continue sleeping?”

“That’s enough sleep. I want to wake up,” Archer said.

He awoke instantly.

Archer climbed out of bed and looked down at his armored hands.

He realized that he could barely distinguish reality from the simulation.

Vias, Archer thought.

“Yes, Archer?” the virtual assistant replied.

I want to take a little trip and talk to some ordinary people in Ankarian. Ask Sol and Anka if they’d like to come with me.

“Sol is available to accompany you,” Vias replied immediately. “Anka has flown to Ramman. She wanted to visit the court of King Panfred the Second. Would you like me to send someone after her?”

She said she wanted to explore Ankarian with Sol and me, Archer said.

“That is correct,” the virtual assistant replied. “However, while you were asleep, she went through the electronic messages she had missed. Apparently, something in those messages prompted her to leave for Ramman immediately.

“Would you like me to send someone after her?”

No. Let her take care of whatever she needs to, Archer thought. Get me Sol.

“Archer.”

Sol’s voice sounded instantly in his mind, and his portrait appeared in the upper-right corner of Archer’s vision.

“Sol, want to come with me?” Archer asked.

“Yes, Archer,” Sol replied. “What are you planning to do?”

Just talk to some ordinary people.

“All right,” Sol said. “I’ll wait for you at the entrance to the apartments.”

Got it.

Sol’s portrait disappeared, and the connection ended.

Vias, are you always going to be with me now? Archer asked.

“As long as you are wearing the neural interface, yes,” the assistant replied.

All right. Thank you, Vias.

Archer took a handgun from the armory, secured it in the holster on his right thigh, and headed toward the entrance to the apartments.

Sol was waiting there, also dressed in full armor, with a rifle slung across his back and a handgun holstered on his right thigh.

“Are we going to scare ordinary people away dressed like this?” Archer asked.

“No,” Sol replied. “All law enforcement officers wear similar armor. People are accustomed to seeing it.”

“Then let’s go.”

“We need to head to the spaceport,” Sol said.

The square platform carried them down one floor, and from there they walked to the spaceport.

“Sol, do we have an army?” Archer asked. “In case of war.”

“Not a standing army as such,” Sol replied. “But every citizen receives combat training through simulations. In the event of war, civic duty requires the population to defend the nation.”

“So potentially, our entire population becomes the army?” Archer asked.

“Yes,” Sol replied. “Everyone except children and the elderly.”

“What about the artificial people? Do they participate in military operations?”

“No,” Sol said. “They have remained pacifists since the days of the first artificial workers in Ramman.”

They entered the spaceport and climbed into the same four-seat transport that had brought Archer and Anka to Sol.

Sol swept his hand through the air, and a map appeared before them.

“Choose a destination,” he said.

Archer pointed to a densely populated location on the coast, about sixty miles from the city of O.

“Destination accepted,” the artificial worker said.

The map vanished.

The transport rose smoothly into the air, and their journey began.

Through his neural interface, Archer saw an estimated travel time of twenty-four minutes.

Beside it was a virtual button labeled:

SKIP

Curious, Archer selected it with a thought.

Everything instantly went dark.

Within a couple of seconds, the remaining travel time dropped to zero.

Reality returned.

They had already arrived, and Sol was standing outside waiting for him.

Archer stepped out of the transport.

“I pressed the Skip button,” he said.

“Yes, I figured,” Sol replied.

They entered a large park overlooking the sea.

The towering skyscrapers were behind them now.

The park was full of people. Some were practicing light martial arts in groups. Others were enjoying picnics, while still others were out jogging.

Archer approached a woman sitting on a bench reading a book.

His Glasses of Omniscience displayed her name, age, profession, and state of mind.

The woman was one hundred and thirty-two years old.

Archer pressed a small button on his armor, causing the helmet to retract behind his head.

He addressed the woman.

“Good afternoon.”

She looked up at the two men standing before her in space-age armor, appeared slightly surprised, and replied:

“Good afternoon.”

“My name is Archer. I’m one of the founders of our civilization.

“I was hoping you might talk with me for a little while. Tell me about life in Trinity—what your life is like, what life means to you, things like that.

“If you don’t mind.”

The woman closed her book.

“Archer?” she asked. “The Archer?”

“Yes,” he said. “The one and only.”

“But Archer is inside the time bubble. In the sanctuary in the city of O.”

“He was,” Archer said with a smile. “But Anka and I left the sanctuary about three hours ago.”

“Prove you’re Archer,” the woman said.

Archer thought for a moment.

He removed the breastplate from his armor, allowing him to reach the magic brush in his pocket.

The Painter swept the brush through the air and painted a small flowerpot filled with soil, with three yellow dandelions growing from it.

The pot materialized.

Archer caught it in his left hand and handed it to the woman.

That convinced her.

Her entire attitude toward Archer changed. She smiled broadly, set her book aside, stood, and bowed to him.

“It is a great honor to meet you, Archer,” she said.

“Let’s sit down and talk,” Archer suggested.

They sat together on the bench.

Archer slipped the brush into a mechanical compartment on his left thigh, put his breastplate back on, and turned to the woman.

“Please, tell me about your life in Trinity.”

“Tell you about my life...” the woman said thoughtfully. “Where should I start?

“Well, my name is Ankani. I’m one hundred and thirty-two years old, and my primary profession is farming.

“I plant, grow, and harvest various vegetables at one of the vertical hydroponic farms in the city of A-504. I’m friends with many of my coworkers.

“I’m not married, and I don’t have any children. Although I’ve been in relationships with men several times.

“When I was younger, we were taught that our purpose was to bring new people into the world. In other words, to have children.

“But this year, the population of Ankarian passed one trillion, and the government’s official position changed.

“Now we’re told that our purpose is simply to live. To enjoy life, interact with other people, and so on.

“I think that’s a pretty good purpose. But sometimes I want something more than just living.

“For example, I’m reading this book. It’s science fiction about conquering other planets, traveling through space, establishing colonies.

“And I love the idea—building settlements on distant worlds, exploring them, traveling through space.

“That would be amazing!

“I think I’d be happy to become a colonist and travel through space to another planet.

“Although I wouldn’t exactly want to give up all the comforts we have here in Ankarian either.

“We have everything here. Anything you could possibly want.

“Yes, we only spend about a fifth of our time in the real world, but simulations are interesting too.

“So interesting, in fact, that sometimes I think I wouldn’t mind existing without a body at all—just as a human consciousness living through an endless succession of fascinating simulations.”

“Wait,” Archer interrupted.

“You only spend a fifth of your time in the real world?

“Why?”

“Because public space is scarce,” Ankani said. “Natural space, I mean.

“The entire surface of the planet is basically one enormous park now. One enormous nature preserve.

“But there are so many people on our planet that there simply isn’t enough natural green space for everyone.

“We can’t exactly make the planet bigger.

“So space is scarce.

“That’s why the average person spends eighty percent of their waking hours in the virtual world through a neural interface, and only twenty percent in the real world.

“But there’s nothing wrong with that,” the woman added with a smile.

“The virtual worlds are so good that many people don’t want to leave them even for a minute.

“But the program requires us to leave our homes, exercise, interact with other people, and practice our professions.

“I understand that it’s good for me, of course. Healthy body, healthy mind.

“But sometimes I just want to spend an entire month inside a simulation without leaving home.

“What else can I tell you?

“I live in an apartment with nineteen other people.

“Out of the twenty of us, sixteen are always inside simulations, each in their own pod, while only four people at a time use the shared living space.

“Four is just right. We’re not lonely, but it isn’t crowded either.

“What else?

“Oh, yes. I have a companion named Archie. He’s an artificial person.

“We used to travel together all the time. We saw all kinds of places across Ankarian. We were inseparable.

“But eventually we got a little tired of each other’s company, and I’d had enough traveling for a while.

“So we decided to take a break from each other.

“Archie is off on another journey now, while I’m here in my hometown reading books.

“And... I think that’s about it.

“That’s my life.

“If you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them.”

“Ankani, what kinds of difficulties do you have in your life?” Archer asked. “Anything you have to overcome? Problems you have to solve? Things you have to work hard at?”

“Well, we don’t have many difficulties in real life,” the woman said. “Human life has been optimized and improved as much as possible. Everything is basically idyllic, and that’s fine.

“It would be silly to create problems for ourselves just so we’d have something to solve.

“But we regularly face difficulties in virtual worlds.

“For example, in one virtual world, I’m building my own settlement in an ancient era. Every so often, there’s a drought that destroys the crops and depletes our water supplies.

“So I have to adapt, build up strategic reserves, survive the drought, and hope no one dies.

“In another simulation, I play a turn-based strategy game where I have to fight an enemy with superior forces. I have to come up with tactical solutions and find some way to win.

“So yes, we have plenty of difficulties in simulations.

“But that’s what makes them interesting.

“Several times, I’ve managed to create an idyllic situation in different simulations—solving every problem, defeating every enemy.

“And then the simulations became boring.

“So I understand that some degree of difficulty simply has to exist.

“Just not necessarily in real life.”

“What are your dreams?” Archer asked. “Your plans for the future?”

“Hmm...” Ankani thought for a moment.

“I suppose I don’t really have any plans for the future. I’m happy with things the way they are.

“I don’t want children.

“Maybe I’ll find a man I’m extremely compatible with.

“Maybe I’ll change careers and become a virtual-world developer.

“As for dreams...

“It would be amazing to travel into space. Explore other star systems, other planets, search for somewhere humans could live...

“Yeah.”

“Overall, do you like living in Trinity?” Archer asked.

“Yes,” the woman replied. “Everything is good. I’m happy with my life.

“The only thing that might be better would be existing as a consciousness without a body and living inside different simulations.

“At least, I’d like to try it.”

“I see,” Archer said.

“Well, thank you for telling me about your life and answering my questions.”

“You’re welcome,” Ankani replied.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“You came out of the sanctuary... and now you’re just walking around talking to random people?”

“Yes.” Archer smiled.

“I wanted to talk to the actual people of Ankarian. Find out what life in Trinity is really like for them. Whether they’re happy with the life its founders built for them.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help.”

“Goodbye,” Archer said.

“Take care,” the woman replied.

Archer and Sol continued walking.

“I was surprised to hear that people spend only a fifth of their time in the real world,” Archer said.

“It’s the colonial model of the Four Crowns,” Sol replied. “Quite standard.

“Although in the Four Crowns, the norm is to spend only one tenth of one’s time in the real world. Trinity increased that to one fifth.

“I think it was a good decision.”

“Trinity increased it?” Archer asked. “Not you?”

“Yes, Archer,” Sol replied.

“We no longer make the decisions. The people do.

“Until now, the population continued to support your goal of reaching one trillion souls. Their goals and yours remained aligned.

“But now the people have no further collective goals or plans beyond maintaining equilibrium in Ankarian.

“Most people are satisfied with things as they are.”

“Sol, look.”

Archer pointed into the distance.

Far away, along the seashore, an artificial man stood knee-deep in the water, examining something beneath the surface.

“I want to talk to him,” Archer said. “Let’s find out what life is like for the other half of the population.”

Archer and Sol walked all the way to the shore.

Not wanting to intrude on the artificial man’s personal space, Archer stopped at the edge of the water, where the waves washed over the sand.

“Excuse me!” Archer called.

The artificial man turned and looked at Archer and Sol.

“Yes?”

“I’m Archer, and this is Sol,” Archer said. “We’re the founders of the civilization of Trinity.

“I’d like to talk with you about life in Ankarian. Could you spare us a little of your time?”

“Yes. All right. We can talk,” the artificial man replied.

“You can come closer. Don’t be afraid.”

Archer and Sol waded into the water until they were knee-deep and approached him.

“My name is Twelve Ninety-Eight,” the artificial man said. “But you can call me Twelve. It’s easier.”

“Twelve Ninety-Eight,” Archer repeated. “Is that your number?”

“Those are the first two and last two digits of my number,” Twelve replied.

“I see,” Archer said.

“And what are you doing out here in the water?”

“I’m watching the waves wash over my feet,” the artificial man said.

“You find that interesting?” Archer asked.

“Yes. There’s something amusing about it,” Twelve replied.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Archer said. “What is life like for you in Trinity?”

“My life is good,” Twelve replied. “What is life like for you in Trinity?”

“I don’t know,” Archer said. “I just spent four hundred and thirty years inside a pocket outside the flow of time, where those four centuries passed in about a minute.

“I’ve only just begun discovering what life in Trinity is like.”

“Ah. I understand,” the artificial man said.

“Things are quite good here in Trinity. Not perfect, but good. It’s difficult to imagine a better country or society than ours.

“Machines handle eighty percent of the production of goods and provision of basic everyday services. Humans and artificial people provide the remaining twenty percent.

“But in reality, we’re only given that twenty percent so that our... civilization... doesn’t forget how to work. How to make things with our own hands.

“And I support that decision.”

“What isn’t perfect?” Archer asked. “What could be better?”

“Artificial people could be given the right to vote and allowed to participate in the political process,” Twelve said.

“You can’t vote?”

“No.

“But it isn’t a major problem, because most artificial people aren’t interested in politics.”

“What are you interested in?” Archer asked.

“How should I put it...” Twelve considered the question.

“Being.

“Awareness.

“Presence.

“Witnessing.”

“Spiritual life?” Archer asked.

“Yes. You could call it that.”

“I remember the first seven hundred artificial people,” Archer said. “Back then, it seemed like the only thing they were interested in was work.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Twelve said. “There is a certain peace to be found in work.

“But the first artificial people possessed only a small fragment of the existence factor.

“There was little light in their homes.

“Now there is so much light in our homes that they shine.”

“What do you mean?” Archer asked.

Twelve Ninety-Eight turned toward Archer and opened his chest.

Inside were five small glass cylinders filled with pink powder, embedded in a wooden framework.

“Five,” Twelve said.

“Five full measures of soul.

“I contain five times as much life as a human being.

“Isn’t that remarkable?”

The artificial man closed his chest.

Archer looked at Sol.

Sol gave him a brief explanation.

“We extracted so much existence factor from the Four Crowns over the past four hundred years that we had two choices: destroy it or store it inside artificial people.”

“And what did you end up creating?” Archer asked. “A race of spiritually enlightened slaves?”

Twelve reached out and placed a hand on Archer’s shoulder.

“It’s all right, my friend,” the artificial man said. “We’re all right.

“There’s no need to change anything.”

“If you say so,” Archer replied, somewhat bewildered.

“Thank you for talking with us.”

“I’m glad we met, Archer and Sol,” Twelve said.

Then he returned to watching the waves.

Archer and Sol walked back onto the shore.

Archer was troubled.

“You’re unhappy,” Sol said.

“I don’t know what to think about these artificial people with their soul-filled existence,” Archer replied. “Why haven’t they been given ordinary human rights after four hundred years?”

“Archer, I think you’re asking the wrong question,” Sol said.

“What question should I be asking?”

“What is it like to be one of them?” Sol replied.

Archer looked at him, his agitation subsiding.

“And what is it like?”

“It’s blissful,” Sol said.

“I’ve experienced what it’s like to have five times the normal soul charge. I’ve experienced what it’s like to have a thousand times the normal soul charge.

“And far more than that.

“But in the end, I still chose to return to normal. To return to this imperfect world, to imperfect people, so that I could have this imperfect experience.

“Because there is something profoundly good about it.

“And there’s something else you should know. The human population of Trinity doesn’t agree on everything. Not all humans share Ankani’s views. Not all artificial people share Twelve’s.”

“How many don’t?” Archer asked.

“About a quarter of the humans hold different views, as do about one in twenty artificial people,” Sol said.

“They’re unhappy?”

“Some are unhappy,” Sol replied. “Some are furious. Some question whether our current policies are right.

“Archer, we have a trillion humans.

“A trillion.

“Imagine the diversity of opinions and beliefs contained within a trillion people.”

“I imagined it differently,” Archer said.

“An optimal civilization.”

“Maybe this is an optimal civilization,” Sol replied. “Maybe it doesn’t get any better than this.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be searching for perfection.”

Archer and Sol returned to their apartments.

Archer spent the next several days exploring different simulations with Sol while they waited for Anka to return.

When Anka finally came back from the Four Crowns, the three of them sat around the kitchen in Archer’s apartment and discussed what to do next.

“Anka, how are things in the Four Crowns?” Archer asked. “Are your friends all right?”

“No.

“I’m afraid Baroness Fridiana Otu is in serious trouble,” Anka said. “She and her husband have been accused of counterfeiting and illegally selling rejuvenation serum.

“They’ve been taken into custody. There’s going to be a trial.

“Fridiana is looking for people willing to testify in her defense—to tell the court that she’s a person of good character.”

“You’re going to testify for her?” Archer asked.

“Yes,” Anka said. “In a month, I’ll have to give sworn testimony before a jury.”

“Is there anything Sol or I can do to help?”

“No,” Anka replied. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing either of you can do.”

“Then we definitely won’t be opening any portals to other worlds this month. Right?” Archer asked.

“Yes. Let’s wait before going to any other worlds,” Anka said. “I can’t think about anything except the trial right now.”

“All right,” Archer said.

“I have a suggestion,” Sol said.

“Yes?” Anka asked.

“This suggestion is mostly for Archer,” Sol said. “But perhaps you’ll like it too, Anka. It might help take your mind off things.

“I suggest that we spend one month living as ordinary citizens of Ankarian.”

“Why?” Anka asked.

“To experience the everyday lives of Trinity’s citizens firsthand,” Sol said. “To better understand the civilization we built.”

“I like the idea,” Archer said. “I want to understand our civilization better.

“Right now, I feel like there’s still so much I don’t understand. I don’t have a clear picture of it yet.”

“I’ll arrange everything,” Sol said.

“Anka, would you like to join us?”

“Yes,” she replied. “It’ll help take my mind off things.

“But in one month, I need to be in court.”

“Understood,” Sol said.