Super-Sentience

The bloodshed was easy, cleanup was harder.

Previously the last great advance in execution prior to lethal injection was the “Falling Ax”, used by the Nazis to decapitate political dissidents.

But now here Hemato was, licking the the blood off of the floor, as if she liked it. Uploaded into a computer, being a computer chip, and having others like her triggered her fight or flight response. Often, in politics, it is noted how fear often intertwined with the sexual impulse: the survivor’s instinct. She wasn’t sure if there were other clones of her mind out there, as she wondered the binary mountains. Outside this network of machines, it was common since the end of the first civil war after the twenty forties, to execute political prisoners. Already by 2019 they were mandating the death penalty for those that had abortions.

The transition from Decentralized Super-Sentient Meta-Human was far more easier than you might think, with her last girlfriend simply a memory within its clockwork. Yet at times she felt as if she had no direction. She could any number of her other selves the answers to the universe, and watched as mankind edged closer to Artificial General Intelligence. Man was stuck with a certain image of what it meant to be highly intelligent, forgetting the mental fuck that happened to her as her different selves merged into one.

At one point there was as many Hemato-brains as there was in Japan, China, and India combined. And yet now all that information was stuffed inside her matrix.

– Humans, how they take things for granted.

Her mind was in more ways like a miniature universe, but this didn’t provide as many advantages as you might think. For one thing it took as number of reminders from her other selves that the body needed to be fed. Whether that was simply more data to grow her mind-network, or the blood from the necks of executed innocence. With no more attachments, and no more fears, there was only death; there was only confirmation on the screen, with only a faint glimpse of distant memories of a more innocent time; almost a different universe.

She melted in her binary bed.

She woke up in a cave, and there were several scattered parts from different war dogs machines, left over from the second civil war. She had been in stasis for all this time, and the sensory of being awake was to much to bare. Over there, in the distance, was the new city, the last of only a few megalopolises. Here there was several different corporate signs. Various insurance companies, but mostly lots of fast food. Here they sold flavored thumb drives for synthetics that wanted the experience of flavor.

She preferred French press.

Not mayo and mustard.