Deus X
“and as she did, the apostles, the table, the room, the Pope herself, all broke up into pixels, revealing the entire reality for what it was—the bits and bytes of an animated simulacrum manipulating the virtual phosphor-dots of my visual recognition subroutine.
The pixels randomized, became the multi-colored quantum confetti of a television receiver tuned to an empty channel, a void so absolute it lacked even mathematical emptiness.
Only one image remained, an outline of a woman’s mouth, the sardonic disembodied smile of a Borgia Cheshire cat.
“This is all too real,” it said in a dead electronic voice. “Behold the reality of the Big Board itself with no sensory simulation software up and running.”
Then the smile dissolved and I was alone in it.
There was no up or down, no sense of direction, indeed not even the lack thereof, for I had no sense of personal orienting locus. Yet there was … input.
Data streams pulsed through the void, a vast webwork of them, crisscrossing, interconnecting.
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