There Are Many Tokyos In Flower

Chapter 17: In Cyberspace, No One Can Here You Meme

Martin — obviously — didn't know the way to this 'Cat Video Repository'. If BIRD did, the little machine wasn't particularly forthcoming, preferring to remind Martin that since the power was back up, he could damn well use the internet like anyone over the age of ten could manage.

"And obviously, I will peck out your eyes if you look up 'porn'," BIRD added, a post-script on a blistering monologue about the inferiority of human intelligence, how BIRD could barely call it intelligence, and how much better everyone's lives would be if it ran things. All in all, as far as Martin was concerned, it was one porn search from being your average ten year old boy.

"Right, right," Martin said, only half-listening. And even that half was only because he was afraid that if the little machine noticed he wasn't listening at all, it would start over.

Martin had already punched the course into his phone and plugged the phone into his bike. He slipped his goggles onto his face, beginning to regret having used his helmet as a stress ball. "Oh well. At least I can't swallow any bugs on the Information Highway," he said.

"It's a nature-less wasteland paved-over by corporate greed and human avarice. Like every author's vision of the future," BIRD said.

"You know that isn't true at all," Martin said. "You keep saying this universe of ours is the creation of some extra-dimensional writer."

"A hack," BIRD interjected.

"Yeah, but I've read some of that classical literature. So far, I'd much rather be living here than in some of those other stories. Would you really rather be living in a world where the ideal relationship is an abusive lust-and-tear fest with a werewolf billionaire mafia boss, like most of Wattpad?"

"Enlightenment optimists busy insisting we live in the 'best of all possible worlds' might have had a point, if their vision of of the future was the romance section of most digital book sites," BIRD said. "I'd rather put my head in a hard-drive grinder."

Having made a point, and silencing the little robot for the moment, Martin turned on his bike and let it boot up. "Hey BIRD, on that topic of the universe being governed by a writer, what do you think I need to do, to save Rin?"

"Oh, it's pretty straightforward. You need to go on a date. Or a few. Realize you have feelings for her. Have an emotional moment. Realize something important that lets you grow as a character. And then once you've fixed the missing issue you somehow hadn't noticed earlier, you'll do it right and save her in an emotionally and narratively satisfying fashion."

"You sound like you're certain that's how it'll play out," Martin noted.

"It's the curse of being staggeringly intelligent, while living in a universe created by someone who doesn't share that quality," BIRD said. As the little machine spoke, it spread its wings and stared up at Mars, as if daring the writer to smite its tiny frame.

"Yes, it sounds really terrible, being gifted with intelligence beyond any and all other created things."

"It's my own personal horror show, Marty," BIRD said, in a tone both weary and resigned. Like Sisyphus on failing his most recent attempt to push that impossible boulder up a hill. "You're just the latest torment the author dreamt up."

The little robot really believed the universe existed just to torment it. Martin wondered, idly, if it was the most tragic story he had ever heard, or the absolute pinnacle of arrogance. He let that thought distract him from his own worries as he put the bike into motion, and began following the guiding lights out of Wiki University.

Martin was almost relaxed, as the bike climbed past a hundred kilometres an hour. The streaking lights turned into solid lines as the segments passed too quickly to tell apart, like a reel of film finally spinning fast enough to show a movie. He was even humming an old tune as he took the on ramp to the highway and really started to pick up speed.