The Blind Gods
Copyright© 2025 by Wau
Chapter 68: Simulations
And nothing happened. The Wau was still in the laboratory with the liquid metal spheres, under Ismaël’s supervision.
“Is there a problem?” asked the Wau.
“I can’t say. I know everything about this machine, including how it works, and yet, yes, I observe that nothing has changed.”
“Have you perhaps sent a double of me into the simulation?”
“No, it doesn’t work that way. And yet...”
He displayed a two-dimensional diagram in space. He pointed to a small red dot in the middle of a sea of grey.
“This dot means that you are in the simulation.”
The Wau tried to analyze the graph, but what he understood of it brought him no more clarity. A civilization that had “completed mathematics” and created “a scale-1 simulation of the universe” ... and if all of this was some sort of theatre or illusion? He strolled through the room, then went into another, facing the bay that showed the magmatic currents.
He thought of the copy of the universe that existed in the After, and which had little success. The universe is beautiful and terrible, with its suns and deadly black holes, and its bleak, abandoned planets. No wonder humans prefer the colorful virtual worlds of video games ... He imagined what kind of video game the Travellers might have created, and then he realized.
He was in the simulation.
But since it was scale 1, identical, he had no way to perceive it. No way, except one. He said “Exit,” and found himself, as if moved miraculously, back on the pedestal in the laboratory.
“Did you enjoy the experience, Wau?” asked Ismaël.
The Wau looked at his metal-gloved hands. No difference between the simulation and the real world.
“It’s remarkable. Could you put me back in?”
“Of course.”
Ismaël activated a command, and again, nothing happened.
“Uh, it should work,” said Ismaël. “I’ll run a test.”
He can’t notice it. We are one floor down in the simulation. He has sent my simulation into ... well, into a simulation of a simulation, while I myself come from the layer of reality above him.
He thought of all the living beings in the simulation. Did they have hopes, sorrows, lives of their own? Of course-since this was a simulation in every detail. The thought made the Wau dizzy.
But what could it be useful for? He could dash to Earth, try to kill the Aleph, and if things went badly, just say the exit word? But what is the point of this simulation, for heaven’s sake?
“Can we access other parts of the universe, say, like a camera flying over the simulation?” asked the Wau.
“No. The simulation reproduces the Universe absolutely, with its limits.”
Let’s try something.
“Ismaël, I’d like to test the simulation again. I have a feeling this time it will work. The exit word will be Exit 1.”
“Exit 1? Noted.”
He activated the simulation again. And again, the Wau found himself in exactly the same place, on the pedestal. Had it worked? he wondered, as Ismaël apologized again. He took a step, said “Exit 1,” and was moved back to the pedestal. He took another step, said “Exit,” and was again moved back to the pedestal.
It took his breath away. Not only could the machine simulate the universe at scale 1-which is theoretically impossible (you need more than one molecule, for example, to simulate a molecule)-but it could also simulate the simulation machine itself, meaning you could enter simulations of simulations. It was dizzying.
Ismaël asked:
“Was that an experience you were satisfied with?”
“Yes, but I want more. Always keep the word as Exit.”
Ismaël started the machine.
Floor 1, Exit 1. Floor 2, Exit 2. Floor 3 of the simulation. The Wau walked a few more steps in the lab. One mustn’t get lost in the simulation floors ... he could never meet his double, always travelling one layer below. The magma looked different through the window, though he couldn’t say why ... surely there was still a limit to simulations, wasn’t there?
He returned to the laboratory. Floor 4. Floor 5 ... Floor 10. Floor 11.
Ismaël said:
“It’s not working.”
Ah-different words. The Wau looked at Ismaël. He no longer had the appearance of a Wau. He was humanoid, very roughly. “It’s not working!” he cried plaintively, while the Wau went back to inspect the magma. It was a large, solid orange-red patch. He looked at his hands. His armor was intact. Everything else seemed ... smoother, without detail.
Eleven floors. We’re reaching the limits of the simulation.
“I want to test the simulation,” he told Ismaël.
“Same exit word?”
“Exit 11.”
“OK. Go up.”
At worst, he could return to the upper floors.
Floor 12. It was degrading. Entire sections of walls were now missing, replaced by a computational grid. Ismaël was a wireframe skeleton, no longer speaking, but still understanding.
Floor 13. The visible walls shrank. Through the gaps, the Wau saw magma, which sometimes vanished to reveal stars-mere white dots.
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