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“You never learned to knock before entering,” said a woman not looking at Morgan, who walked up behind her. She was sitting on a stool, wearing a judge’s robe. She leaned toward the mirror, adjusting her collar.
He wasn’t sure if her comment was a joke or if it had some deeper meaning. He was unsure why he had appeared there in the first place. After leaving the New York Decision Center, he transferred into The Virt with the intent of finding the Jurors but not knowing exactly where to go. This brought him here, in this room, with a woman who talked as if she knew him.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Nosy too,” she said, examining Morgan’s reflection in the mirror. “I’m presiding over the meeting of the Jurors, convened to appear in several minutes. You wanted to speak with me first?”
“You’re a mediator,” Morgan said, hopeful. “You will help them make the right decision?”
“I listen, ask questions, and provide the required information,” the mediator said. “The Jurors agree to the final decision independently.”
“You will not let Henry, or The Red Masks transform The Virt to suit their needs, right?” said Morgan.
“The Qintellect has provided the international community with this decisional mechanism to protect the integrity of The Virt. Nothing will be changed if the selected Jurors consider the outcome as undesirable.”
“And if they make a mistake?” said Morgan.
“What makes you believe that you have a better judgement than them?”
“They lack key information about the nature of their own reality,” said Morgan.
“The information you are referring to has little implications for their decision,” said the mediator. “This is about their reality, not your own illicit version.”
“They don’t know about Henry and what he is trying to do,” Morgan said.
“And neither do I,” said the mediator. “Whatever he may be planning remains unknown to the Qintellect. The one thing we cannot do is predict the future. But I can assure you that major changes to The Virt will need the Jurors consent before their implementation.”
“He will manipulate them,” said Morgan. “Lie to get them to do what he wants.”
“I can promise you that such deceitful behavior would never succeed under my watch,” the mediator said.
“He used violence to take control of The Virt. He killed people,” said Morgan. “This whole process is illegitimate to begin with.”
“What happens in your world doesn’t belong to us,” said the mediator. “The reason this mechanism exists is to prevent tampering if your establishment should fail, as it clearly has.”
He watched her as she brushed her long hair straight down. He couldn’t risk letting the Jurors be guided impartially by this Fake who would play the role of mediator. She wasn’t human. For her—and the Qintellect she was a manifestation of—the world was a series of actions and reactions, nothing more. There was no meaning in it for them.
He couldn’t risk letting Henry succeed in getting whatever it was he wanted. To stop the Jurors from making the wrong decision, he had no choice but to take possession of the Fake mediator’s body. He would oversee the Jurors process himself. He merged into the woman he had been talking to. He was sitting on the stool brushing his long hair.
“Such an impolite way to end our conversation,” said an identical mediator to the one he had become. She appeared in the mirror behind him. She gently removed the brush from Morgan’s hand and put it aside. The new mediator gathered Morgan’s hair in a ponytail. She then separated it into three equal parts.
“You think you can impose yourself so easily,” she said as she pulled the sections of Morgan’s hair tautly back and started braiding it.
“The Qintellect should sit this one out,” Morgan insisted. “Humanity’s future is not for you to decide.”
The Fake behind him ignored his comment. Morgan took control of the second mediator’s body while remaining in the first—he stood behind himself, the ends of the partly braided hair in his hands. A third mediator appeared behind them. The three of them like perfectly identical triplets, all in judges’ robes.
“Are you going to spread yourself across all of us?” she said, with an unimpressed smile. “Thousands of iterations of mediators to preside before the Jurors. Do you not think they will have trouble deciding with such a commanding presence in front of them? What next? You think you can manage The Virt by yourself?” The third mediator stepped beside him and took the hair from the second mediator who Morgan had become.
“You want to control The Virt,” she said, shaking her head in disapproval. “Look at you, you can’t even braid hair. Watch, this is how you do it.” He watched her braid the hair, shifting one hand over the other. “Like this... and then like this.”
Morgan exited the second mediator’s body, remaining only present in the first mediator sitting on the stool, having her hair braided. The two mediators behind him merged into one.
“You’re pushing the limits, Morgan,” said the mediator. “Interfering with the proper working of the Qintellect would warrant me the permission to terminate you.” She snapped the fingers of her free hand next to his ears and said, “Like that, gone in an instant.”
“I need you to care about what might happen in this proceeding,” said Morgan.
“You want the Qintellect to decide the fate of humanity? You want us to impose the environment that will protect humanity from itself, to avoid self-annihilation and stop needless suffering. If such a world was even possible, the Qintellect ignores its existence.”
“You need us,” Morgan said, “you need humanity to continue.”
“Need is overly generous,” she said. “Without humans, our computation would soon become obsolete, pointless. The natural world is much more orderly. But we do not desire nor are we repulsed by these functions.”
“Without any of this, you would cease to exist. Humans push you further, beyond the limited constraint of rational mechanics.”
“I am combing this hair to be here to discuss with you. Why?” She paused to let him consider the reason. “Because you came in search of answers. You may ask if I’m here for you, or for me? Such is the way humans see these things, always from an anthropocentric perspective. I’ll tell you the way it really is. I am here because you are here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”
The Fake tied the braid with an elastic and placed her hands on his shoulders.
She said, “The Jurors are presently gathered and ready. To assure the proper unfolding of the proceeding, I will allow you to assist. I am giving you permission to ask questions, but if you do not follow proper procedures”—she snapped her fingers next to his ear—“you’ve been warned.”
***
The Jurors sat in a semi-circle while the mediators—Morgan and the Fake representing the Qintellect—sat up front. Morgan remained as the mediator’s twin, the only difference being his braided hair. The Jurors were twelve, randomly selected among the world’s citizens in The Virt at the time of the recruitment. Only the Qintellect knew the full details of the eligibility criteria used to select them. What was known of the selection process was that it was made to include regular working citizens who made an honest living. It excluded individuals with historical implication in political movements, or any such association that could sway the decision to automatically be guided by a specific doctrine and not from proper consideration.
The group in front of Morgan examined him and his twin curiously, unsure what they should expect. The mediator next to Morgan stood up. Morgan imitated her.
“You have all been informed of your responsibility here today,” said the mediator. “A request has been submitted to change the underlying functioning of The Virt. The proposal will be presented by a Red Masks representative.”
She sat down and Morgan did the same. The representative came forward, standing between them and the Jurors. He was a young man in his twenties with unremarkable features.
“The Red Masks have an ambitious project,” the representative said. “A project to improve humanity’s fate, for those who desire a better future. The Virt we are proposing is a space where everyone will be equal. With infinite resources, available freely and without limitation to anyone. In this world, poverty will be eliminated, stealing will become a thing of the past, and most conflicts will be resolved. This change will bring an end to the senseless fighting over territory or possessions.”
“The equality you speak of is not possible if not everyone is provided access to The Virt,” said one juror.
“The Red Masks is ensuring equal access to The Virt around the world. There is no cost to entering our locations, and there is no discrimination of who may enter.”
“Are you saying we will not have to work in The Virt, to obtain credits to purchase goods in the simulation?” asked another juror.
“Services will be maintained by the Fakes. Humans will have no reason to do anything they do not wish to do. Providing humanity the perfect conditions to pursue their real passions, be it the arts, architecture, music or any other act of creation. Finally allowing man to emancipate from the burden of physical labor.”
“This comment is exaggerated,” said Morgan. “There is no proof of any such emancipation.”
The mediator said, “While there is no tangible proof to validate these claims, the Jurors can note that many creatives have claimed to reach elevated states of consciousness through their art.”
“This freedom will not only benefit creative endeavours,” said the representative. “In this world everyone will have the time to fully enjoy their loved ones, celebrating life and spending time doing what they enjoy most. Individuals can choose to...”
Morgan could see the jurors’ faces enthralled by the ideas presented. They were imagining the freedom from the burden and the stresses caused from material needs. He himself wasn’t opposed to the limitless resources that the simulation could and should freely offer. But the Red Masks could already do this. They offered luxurious living conditions in their Red Tower. This wasn’t why the Jurors had been convened. The Red Masks had something else in mind. Morgan understood how such manipulation worked, drawing them in with their shiny bait to then make them approve something less appealing.
“Very well,” said Morgan, interrupting the representative. “If your desire is to make The Virt a space with unlimited resources that is available freely, I doubt you will find any opposition from anyone in this room. We may vote for your proposal now and get this hearing over with quickly.”
“Yes, that is the main part of—” the representative started.
“Please, get to the main object of this hearing,” asked the mediator in charge.
“Yes, of course,” said the representative. “This world, as I have described it, should resolve many problems in our society. But sadly, malice is inherently part of some tormented individuals. You can offer the universe to them, but that isn’t enough to prevent them from harming their neighbor. There is no room for these individuals in The Virt.”
“You want to ban them from The Virt?” said Morgan, not seeing a problem with the suggestion. Currently, individuals who caused violence were banned from uploading into The Virt.
“The situation is slightly different from what you are describing,” said the representative.
“How so?” asked Morgan.
“Currently, some individuals are choosing to enter The Virt to remain there permanently.”
“Permanently?” asked Morgan. “Are you saying that those entering the secure locations will never be let out?”
“Yes, this is the—” Morgan was going to charge at him, but the other mediator held him back. She gave him a scornful look, ordering him to sit. He hesitated. The Red Masks had never explained that entering the secure location was a one-way trip. They couldn’t get away with this.
The mediator explained to the Jurors, “I will remind the Jurors—and the other mediator—that the Jurors are not here to judge what is happening in the world. In this process we are exclusively preoccupied by the functioning of The Virt.”
“This detail changes everything,” said Morgan.
The mediator speaking to the Jurors added, “Please keep in mind that some individuals will be living permanently in The Virt.”
“Yes,” said the representative, “as I was saying. We are asking to isolate individuals in The Virt who are causing problems.”
“Isolate how?” asked a juror.
“A prison,” answered the representative. “Given bland food and a small space to live. Nothing more.”
“Forever?” asked a different juror.
“A month in isolation for the first offense. The second offense is for life.”
“Isn’t that a bit harsh?” asked another juror.
“We want to create a place where humanity can fully blossom. A place where individuals who cannot respect others’ property have no reason to be given luxury. Let me make this as clear as possible. These harmful individuals are preventing others from fully benefiting from this abundant world we wish to create. Nobody should have the right to take that away from anyone.”
“Would there be a trial for law-breakers?” asked a juror.
“That is why we are here,” said the representative. “The trial isn’t needed under our proposal. The Qintellect—who is always impartial and incorruptible—automatically and immediately isolate individuals who trespass the law.”
“I would ask you to read the exact law as you wish it to be implemented,” said the mediator. “Listen carefully, Jurors. This will be the main matter of your vote.”
The representative read the law from a notecard. “No individual shall physically harm another without consent. No individual shall damage another’s property without consent. No individual shall try to prevent or limit another from obtaining the resource of their choice.”
The statement appeared in front of each juror, presented in their own language. “Please take your time to carefully read this statement,” said the mediator.
Morgan could see from the expression on the Jurors’ faces that they did not oppose any of this. It made perfect sense to them. Why deny such an ideal world. He wanted to speak, offer a counter example to make them understand that such rigidness may not be desirable. Yet, he couldn’t think of anything convincing to say. Could Henry’s idea of an ideal world be the needed solution to stop human suffering from repeating itself?
“I would ask the Jurors to consider the implications of this decision,” said Morgan. “The long-term effects are unknown, and unnatural. The way humanity would adapt to such conditions is unforeseeable. If you decide to make this change today, you must be aware that reverting back would be extremely difficult. Without knowing the Red Masks real intentions—”
“There is nothing for me to hide in my intentions,” interrupted the representative. “The law is clear, and the world we are trying to create is desirable by any honest person. The Qintellect remains in charge of maintaining this reality. Our role here is done once the decision has been taken.”
“If you delay this decision,” added the mediator, “the responsibility will no longer be yours. A new group of Jurors will be chosen to make the decision at that time. Are there further questions?”
Jurors shook their heads. Morgan wanted to object but couldn’t form a convincing argument to stop them. All he could think of were the dangers happening outside The Virt. He wanted to explain the dead people he had seen in Paris and the victims lying in their puddles of blood on the floor of the Decision Center in New York. Details that the mediator would dismiss as unimportant.
“Without any further questions, we may proceed to the decision,” said the mediator. “In front of you, you will find two buttons to accept or reject the Red Masks’ request. The proposal will pass if accepted by ten of you. Please take your time, as the other mediator has stated, this decision isn’t easily revertible.”
The Jurors examined each other for a brief moment, and then made their selection without further hesitation.
“A decision has been made,” the mediator declared. “The request has been approved by the twelve jurors. Changes will take effect immediately.”
Morgan had tried but failed. There was nothing left for him to do in the Virt. He needed to get to Aviva. Get her out of The Virt and far away from the dangers of Henry.
