Carl Frederick by Teddy Bear Toys

Author:Teddy Bear Toys
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-02-10T15:22:25+00:00

In near shock, Niel pushed himself back from the monitor. Usually a generated story was no more than a tale about someone with the same first name as his, but this time it was different. This time, the main character was him—and the story somehow had predicted his Teddy Bear Toy scheme. Everything, even down to the LED flashlight.

Impulsively, he checked his watch. He had to rush off to Teddy Bear Toys immediately so not to keep Dennise waiting. He’d enter his thoughts and think about the implications later. There had to be some rational explanation for all this.

But still, he stared at the computer monitor, held captive now by a feeling of guilt about verbally abusing Victor. Again, he slapped himself. Recursion … again! He laughed at himself. “Feeling guilty about a simulation of myself telling off another simulation,” he said aloud. “I must be losing my mind.” And why did I get mad at Victor? He shook his head. More strange still was his simulation deciding to not buy the game. That, he couldn’t understand at all. Maybe my sim is trying to tell me something. He laughed nervously. Could it be that the simulated Niel, a composite drawn from his lifebook, was actually advising him? My sim seems to have a better quality of life than I do. He closed tight his eyes. “Maybe Victor was right. Maybe I am a computer simulation. A simulation of myself.”

He pounded a fist on his desk. “Free will,” he said to the monitor. If he had free will, then he couldn’t really be a simulation, could he? Abruptly, attempting to exercise free will, he changed his mind about trying to get a copy of the game. He swiveled and strode to the door. “Maybe,” he thought, “maybe I can persuade Dennise to go to a coffee shop with me.” He thought they could discuss computers, philosophy, and life. And then maybe afterwards, they could do something together—something unambiguous, something real.

At the door, he stopped, swiveled and returned to his desk. He was in no condition for a date with Dennise. He blew out a long breath, then phoned her on her mobile, pleaded illness, and arranged they meet tomorrow.

In an attempt to organize the jumble of wild ideas going through his mind, he moved his hands to the keyboard and, as he’d always done after reading a story, entered his thoughts.

He keyed the final period with a flourish—and then decided to truly make it final; he’d quit the project. It was the only way to save his sanity.

He picked up the phone and dialed Professor Kendrick’s lab. It was late, but Kendrick all but lived in his lab.

When Kendrick answered, Niel said, “Professor Kendrick. This is Niel.” Then, on impulse, he added, “Am I real?”

Rather than laughing as Niel had expected, Kendrick said, “Of course you are.” Then, he added, “Why don’t you come over to the lab? We can talk.”

“Now?”

“Why not?” said Kendrick. “We have just been reading your entry.

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