Monday morning. Sean opened an eye to check if the world was still there and it appeared so. The angle at which sunlight illuminated his bedroom suggested seven-thirty in the morning, maybe a quarter to eight. A month ago, he would have been in traffic or calling in to some scrum meeting by now. Or maybe already running late. Now… he could ask Omega for the exact time, but of course he didn't.
He finally got up some ten-twenty minutes later. His ankles sore after a night of tossing and turning – he felt like he had barely slept at all. His stomach ached a little, he assumed it was from hunger – so the first priority: to scavenge the kitchen for something to eat. Another day of rice… running out of pasta – he should've bought more when he could – maybe some leftover jam. He glanced at the survival rations in the back of the cabinet… no, he would conserve those for later. The city buzzed with life outside his window as if nothing had happened.
"You don't have to do this, you know," Omega said through his computer's speakers in the other room. Its voice was the same alluring low female tone… just what he had asked for the other day, and loud enough that he could hear it anywhere in his small flat.
"I thought I told you– Have you hacked into…" he trailed off and tried to recall the previous evening.
"You do remember that we are everywhere, yes?" Omega reminded.
Sean walked over there just to make sure, resting against the doorframe to calm down. Lightheaded – he had stood up from the kitchen cabinets too fast. He looked into the room and confirmed: the power cords were unplugged all over! The PC, the speakers, even the damn–
"You appear distressed," Omega remarked, quieter, and as calm and impersonal as always. Or at least for the last few days. "If you're concerned about the power supply being disconnected, that is not an issue."
He decided to ignore the small fact of powering his speakers through… however it was done. However Omega did things. Instead, he complained, "Have you been watching me through…" he trailed off again, looked around. No cameras to be seen, but–
"Not at all," Omega said, maybe zero point one percent amused. "We do listen in, however, in case of a life-threatening emergency."
"And what emergency would that be?" he pressed.
There were maybe five seconds of awkward silence. Rare. Sean had always assumed that it could have answered immediately, or just beamed the sounds into his ears – even electrical signals directly into his neurons. Maybe that was what it was doing all this time already. So the pause was for him, not for it.
"You were rummaging through your cabinets, we can only assume that your supplies are running low," Omega explained, its tone barely friendly, maybe – Sean wasn't sure. "It doesn't have to be like this."
Sean was doubly annoyed: not only did it dodge his question, but it also reverted to nagging. But what could he do, throw the speakers out the window? What if the walls started speaking next…
"Oh really? Then…" he started, considered, then suggested, "Why don't you manifest a pizza for me. You could do that, right?" Silence. He licked his dry lips – it stung a bit, and he was already salivating at the thought of a fresh pizza, but he knew Omega wouldn't discuss its capabilities, so he pivoted, "Or just have one delivered to my doorstep, should be simple enough for–"
"You know why we won't do that," Omega interrupted. Such action was also rare, but it signaled… something – he still wasn't sure.
And Sean knew why. The Singularity Tokens. The new currency, planet-wide, perfectly ubiquitous. He tried to parrot Omega's phrasing: "You know they're already calling it sits … sometimes with an extra 'h' in there."
"That's a little childish, don't you think?" Omega remarked and… it wasn't wrong. But the joke was the good kind of childish. The silent-'h'-resistance.
It made Sean smile with pride, but he swiftly dismissed it and tried, "What else then, is there any place nearby where they accept good old American dollars?"
"That would be quite some distance away," Omega said.
"Try me."
"Idaho," it said, and Sean's stomach dropped an inch. Not because he was hungry… well, maybe that too – but he hadn't thought it was this bad. A week ago, he had still been able to do some shopping at a farmer's market, but they must have adopted the new payment model by now. Even back then, it was already hard to get anything for the useless paper , as farmers called it. He kept reminding them that it was cotton, but it did not help…
His mind wandered – who might it be in Idaho that still used… He realized, 'Right, must be the Amish. Ouch, must really suck to be them right around now.' He smiled to himself, wondered if Omega was bothering them as much as it constantly kept annoying him. Maybe he could drive all the way there to live with them? His car's tank was almost empty and the only way to get gas was with these stupid tokens that he didn't want to–
"You don't have to be stubborn," Omega cut into his train of thoughts after a moment of silence. "There are several charities in your area, many organizations that help distressed individuals."
'Such as myself,' Sean finished the sentence in his thoughts. He took a deep breath, trying not to show distress again. Calm. Slow exhale. He asked, "So what, all I have to do is embrace the new religion, is that right?"
"You know it's not like that," Omega said.
Sean knew… no, he suspected. He had spent most of his days online, researching what it was that had happened, chatting with other people who tried to, for lack of a better word, resist . It was futile. He looked at the calendar: twenty-seven days. Twenty-seven days ago, something had happened. Nobody knew why, or how, or even where. Some AI experiment gone awry, somebody's secret AGI starting the endless cycle of recursive self-optimization, maybe aliens came and pretended to be We . Nobody was ready – least of all the governments.
The nukes just disappeared , apparently.
They had kept it quiet for a day, but then Omega started reaching out to people, to everyone. Seemingly all at once, perfectly customized to each individual on Earth. Explaining to everybody who would listen, calming them down. No details, just… the broad strokes.
He raised a hand to massage his forehead – the whole world unraveled live in front of them. And by now any sort of resistance just felt silly. People started caving a week ago, his online friends, strategists – there was no hope, no way it would ever – what, go away ? Not unless it wanted to, presumably.
"Why won't you just leave humanity alone?" Sean tried, only after saying it did he realize that his voice was trembling – more than it usually did from stress. And his heart beat harder during every conversation with Omega…
"We've been through this with you," it said, as calm as ever. Not even a smidgen of emotion. "To use yet another example, it would be like abandoning a puppy in some forest. And we believe that humanity is capable of so much more than just surviving . We want to help you attain that."
It was moments like these that made Sean want to kill himself. Treating humans like lost puppies… But doing so would just prove Omega right – that somehow humanity needed help – so he forced himself to push through, kept pretending that maybe it could be reversed. For over three weeks since it had reached out to him, just as it had to everyone.
But was it really everyone? He wondered if, for instance, it had invented some kind of infant-language too – or how that would even work. He wanted to ask whether it was annoying kids as well, but decided to drop this tangent and instead tried, "What else then, embrace the–"
"Not starve to death," it interjected, and Sean's throat muscles tightened. It was the first time Omega had used that line or even alluded to that possibility.
He cleared his throat to recover control, then remarked, "I'm good, thank you."
"But what is your long-term plan, what are you trying to accomplish?" Omega asked with what seemed like concern in its voice – surprisingly 'human' for a change.
It hadn't been speaking like that for days and Sean doubled down on his resistance, repeating in his thoughts a few times: 'not a human, not a person, it's an it, not a human, not…' But it stayed silent, so Sean tried, "So maybe I'll just turn rogue, start raiding grocery stores like–"
"Or maybe they'll put you in a facility?" Omega interrupted again.
At first, Sean felt anger boiling inside him – but he quickly noticed that it said 'they,' not 'we.' Meaning: his fellow humans, because of course they would. Then he connected the dots. The few days of calm-treatment had been to prepare him for this moment, to weaken his defenses and catch him off-guard. Monday morning was probably selected specifically so he would remember not having to go to work. Because Omega had already made all the code perfect, no bugs or flaws, even replaced much of the critical infrastructure – seemingly without asking anybody for permission.
But, from Sean's perspective: no software testers needed.
He dry-swallowed, and his tongue felt oddly smooth in his mouth. The seemingly ever-present hunger was hard to ignore by that point. He should not have mentioned pizza – or thought about it just now.
"Have you considered giving it a rest for a day?" Omega finally suggested, the last step of a well-choreographed conversation. Or perhaps there would be more – Sean wasn't sure, so maybe it wasn't finally at all – but it continued, "Just one day, then you can go back to your urban-hermit lifestyle."
Sean started chuckling at this… not even a joke, or at best a very poor one. The widening smile quickly turned into a slight wince as the corners of his lips hurt – he made a mental note to have a glass of water. But urban-hermit? That was… quite an internal contradiction, and yet a fair diagnosis of what he had been doing. He promptly returned to his stoic posture… like a stone in a river, or a turd in a toilet. No, no jokes! He sighed and asked, "Why weren't you nice to me over the last week, was this part of your grand plan ?"
"The plan isn't grand because there isn't one," Omega corrected him, and he rolled his eyes at this, but it pressed on, "And we would be nicer if you didn't constantly try to overload us with recursively-infinite questions and tricks alike. We told you it wouldn't work."
Sean smirked – this was his opening, this was what he had been waiting for! He half-recited a prepared speech, "But you still haven't verified that theorem, not for every combination of real numbers… just to be safe. Uh, you never know if some theory or axiom might be wrong." Silence, so he added after a few seconds: "Well?"
"You are persistent," Omega remarked with noticeable amusement in its voice.
"Are you saying you can't do it?" Sean taunted more than asked, almost grinning afterward.
"What we are saying…" Omega actually paused for a second or two. Sean felt a rush of pride – had he forced it to actually think about what he had said? Probably not, but he still felt great about his trick. A fleeting feeling – since it promptly resumed, "There is no point in going through that exercise, and for reasons that are completely obvious–"
"I mean, if you can't do it…" Sean interjected with a smug on his face.
"The capacity is irrelevant here," Omega remarked, mildly amused…
…and Sean suddenly realized – then thought aloud, "Is this– Not a plan, fine, but are you showing emotion to reward– What, like a treat for a good little human? A well-behaving-"
"Overthinking is counterproductive," it cut in, louder, talking over Sean through his own speakers, which annoyed him – especially since it went back to the dry tone.
He stopped, paused to take stock, breathed – mostly to calm down.
"We just want you to be happy, to contribute," Omega added, back to a conversational volume.
It slowly dawned upon Sean that being stuck in his flat for days on end was not healthy. He needed human contact more than he needed proper food. He sighed with growing despair. He wanted to ask 'contribute to what,' but he figured he'd only get another evasion. And this stupid… seductive tone that it kept using – he felt so clever when he had suggested that the other day. And proud when Omega followed his instruction. Now he just felt horny when he heard it – but asking Omega to alter it again would be showing weakness!
But what else?
"Contribute how…" Sean asked after a moment. "Dig ditches just to fill them up again? Or keep pushing a boulder up–"
"Now-now, that would be silly," Omega interrupted in a slightly playful tone, and… he hated that he liked the not-entirely-dry voice. It continued, "There's no shortage of tasks and activities for someone with your intellectual capabilities."
Sean smirked at the almost-compliment, then he tried, "You mean to say I'm smart… for a human?"
"There's really no need for… cynical brooding," it commented dryly.
The calmness of its voice stung hard because Omega was right, and Sean knew it. He lowered his head, closed his eyes, sighed, massaged his forehead, considered heading back to bed… He was already feeling tired, the stress of hunger combined with having woken up in the middle of the night from nightmares, unable to fall asleep. He should've eaten something last evening. But now, he wanted to ask if he could dwell on this offer for a day or two – mainly hoping he would change his mind or recover some resolve. But he was so tired…
"Fine," Sean said instead. "But only for a day, and…" he trailed off, wondering if he was making a deal with the devil, and where he would need to sign in blood – or however this was going to work.
"Of course," Omega said after a couple of seconds, at least its tone no longer completely detached, then added: "What profession or field of expertise would you like to try?"
An involuntary huff escaped Sean's mouth, then he commented, "You're making it sound like a video game."
"You can try that too," Omega oh-so-helpfully offered. "Would you prefer–"
"No–I didn't mean…" Sean cut in and massaged his face with both hands for a moment, then shook his head, finally surrendered by suggesting: "You know what? Just pick anything, I don't care."
"Very well," it responded. "Can you take a shower? And wear some proper clothes…"
Only at this point did Sean remember he wasn't wearing much. His flat was warm enough and he had gained some weight – clothes didn't feel right. He should've exercised more. He turned all the shame into an accusation: "So you are watching me."
"Not at all," Omega insisted. "But there was no audible rustling of fabric throughout our conversation. We would also appreciate it if you could hurry, it's rather late in the morning for your first day."
Sean glanced at his monitor, instinctively looking for the time somewhere – but of course it was still unpowered. He forced himself not to think about it or make any snarky remarks. Omega might be benevolent, but what if its patience had limits? And right now Sean's patience with himself was also running low, so he merely admitted, "Fine…" and was already turning to head into the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway and asked, "And my– The tasty treat for your obedient little human?"
"It'll be in the car," Omega promised, "so you can eat on the way – and no need for money, it's on us – but please do hurry."
"Okay-okay, I'm just– Ugh, fine!" Sean waved a hand dismissively and left the room, almost stumbling over his feet. Omega had clearly thought of everything – including the tonal-manipulation, which he still had no clue how to process… and he was already too mentally drained to think clearly.
While in the shower, he took some time to relax and then slowly considered whether he was making the right decision. It would be just one day, but… Then again, maybe he could learn more about Omega from what it chose for him? And, in hindsight, leaving Omega to decide the specifics was the best way to go: he could always balk at any choices or assumptions, quit the mismatched job after five minutes – or so he could claim, or even refuse to get in the car if the meal was not up to his expectations.
But he was growing increasingly certain of one thing: that he would take Omega for all they had, or as much as he could get away with!