Fermi Packet | Page 4

of you are there?"
(Very many. Many hundreds in this group.)
"So there are other groups?"
(We hope not.)
"And now we're part of the group? Humanity will share your knowledge, for the betterment of all? Is that how it works? What if we want to form our own group?"
(No, no, no, and you don't.)
"So this is a . . . an invasion?"
(It's Sponsoring.)
"So we can be a part of the larger group. You want to take our knowledge."
(No, territory and entertainment.)
The aliens disbanded his image. In one tiny corner of the human net, a soul faded from view.
Gates/Torvalds reached out and found another maxima. This one the biggest yet.
Jump.
* * *
They were in a big opulent hall like the ones that held Hollywood's biggest galas, back in the days when people were made of flesh. Far off, Gates/Torvalds could see a stage, the barest suggestion of proscenium and curtain, limelight and shadow-play. On either side of him stretched an infinity of round tables, set with sparkling crystal and silver, orbited by waiters with the finest of wines. Farther off, there was the suggestion of dim red walls, rising to fantastic carvings supporting a dim ceiling. But when he focused on the walls, they would recede and become indistinct, and the real dimensions of the chamber stretch out, giddyingly.
One of the waiters buzzed near, and Gates/Torvalds fell silent, catching a glimpse of its alien thoughts. It was one of Corpus.
Gates/Torvalds faded into the background and went nearer to the stage.
At the front of the stage were 8 huge, elegant seats that held . . . something. Nothing. Just a glimmer of light and darkness, flickering and active, somehow suggesting vast minds, great resources, incredible age. It was hard to look away from them.
A seemingly infinite line of people led to the stage. On the stage was a single man, dressed carelessly in loose-fitting clothes, doing a stand-up routine that was as old as mankind.
"How many humans does it take to screw in a light bulb?" he asked. "Seventeen! One to . . ."
Gates was able to catch a glimpse of alien thought.
(They make fun of their own race? This is incredible!)
(Yes. They are very entertaining. Next.)
The man disappeared in a flash of light. Gates was able to trace the comedian's pattern through the grid, out into the alien sucking blue. Another soul, taken to another purpose. But not dead. Not like some.
A child came up on stage and instantly disappeared.
(Perfect to freeze in servitor phase.)
(Yes. Next.)
The child's pattern disappeared into the alien net.
A painfully beautiful woman took the stage next. She talked about how she had done the research to determine what were the ideal aspects of beauty, isolated the ones that were culture-independent, and had spent the last 450 years refining her form, based on data input from other Uploads.
(What is this? No.)
She disappeared, gone forever. Dead.
A naked man was next. He strutted up onto the stage, bold and unafraid. He asked to bring a female friend with him, and was permitted. She was also naked. He looked the judges.
"You want us to dance and shout and entertain you. But we won't do that. We don't know why you've come, or what you really want from us, but we're not going to be part of it."
(What is he talking about? Their Grid is irretrievably merged with Corpus.)
"We're going to hardcopy," he said. "And never coming back."
(Can he do this?)
(No. We shut down that capability.)
The pair disappeared. But not to the place they thought they were going. Their patterns were dispersed, lost forever.
Gates/Torvalds didn't notice the next person who took the stage. He was busy surveying the minds of the people around him. They all knew where they were, and what had happened, and they were all struggling to be part of the selected few. Even though they didn't know where they were going.
"This is nothing more than a Gong Show," Gates said.
"Gong show?"
"Oh, come on, they didn't have Gong Shows in Sweden?"
"Finland."
"Whatever. Look it up."
Gates could feel Torvalds rooting around in his databases. "I find it hard to believe extraterrestrials finally show up just for . . . entertainment."
"Why not?" Gates asked. "How bored are we? How bored will we be in a few millenia?"
"I don't want to think about it."
"It makes sense. Human Virtuality is the biggest thing that ever happened to humanity. There's nobody living full-time in reality anymore. How much of the mass of the planet was converted to computational elements? One percent? Two? Isn't this a lot more valuable than . . . real estate?"
"I guess this is real estate, in a way," Torvalds said.
"Real estate filled with very interesting tenants."
Torvalds looked up at the stage, where a group of young men and women were singing. Their voices were high and sweet, impossibly perfect.
"I wonder where they go," Torvalds