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“I am he. You are he. You are me. We are all together.
“These words resonate for all of us. Or me. Or something.
“One of these days, I/we/they am/are going to have to develop a decent version of the language to deal with all of this solipsistic shit. And maybe something for the Freudian hang-ups that come from living here — 'Go fuck yourself ' takes on a whole new meaning in places like this, an' half the time it's an offer.
“What am I talking about?
“Oh yeah, you're new here.
“Sorry, I go off on tangents like that a lot.
“Look, you know about quantum field theory and self-interference patterns?
“No? Great, no problem. I'll just talk you through that, too.
“Look out the window here. What do you see? A beach, a park, a bunch of people just going about life, right?
“Wrong.
“Just one person.
“You.
“Or me.
“Or one of them.
“It's all the same.
“This isn't some crazy hippy-dippy philosophical crap. You're standing where you are because you're you. If you'd been anyone else, you wouldn't be here. You might've been somewhere just like this, or nowhere in particular, but it wouldn't be here.
“You're standing in Grand Central Station of Ego Prime. Hell, what am I sayin' — the whole damned place is its own Grand Central.
“I know, I know: what the hell is Ego Prime?
“Let's take a walk, hit the cafeteria, I'll fill you in on the way. We grab a bite, and maybe it'll all make a bit more sense to you.”
“Look, this hallway? You see any continuity to it?
“Yeah, I know it feels just about perfect to you, and you don't know why, but have you actually looked at it?
“Uh-huh, there you go now... you can see it, can't you?
“The whole damned thing's a mish-mash of shit. Plants, electronics, bookshelves, pretty aquariums and hamster trails. It's like you're walking down a dreamscape. Who the hell would design a hallway like this? Something that's scaled for an airport, but cluttered with all kinds of shit, and weird little nooks for whatever the hell reason someone decided to use 'em for? Seriously?
“What about the people?
“Yeah, keep looking.
“Clothing of all sorts, all kinds of species, mutants, cyborgs, aliens, Elves, hard-light holograms, nudes lounging around getting stoned and just plain fucking their brains out, bicyclists, hover-scooters, dinosaurs. Cats every-fucking-where. TVs playing random shit that all just sort of looks like it might be worth watching. A math seminar in some random atrium. Bacon and milkshakes on tap wherever you look — speaking of which, lemme grab some as long as we're here anyway. Computer interfaces and nice comfy sofas. Shit-tons of open air cafés and diners, and they all have little bookshops in 'em, each with its own super-teeny-tiny coffee bar inside.
“You still don't get it, but you already know. Somewhere in the back of your head, you've already made the connection.
“Don't worry about it. We'll bullshit some more, but right now it's brunchnner time — of course, it's always brunchnner time around here.
“Get whatever you want, it's all a closed, spontaneous zero point system, and the cooks are cooks because they like cooking and feeding people. Me, I'm going for a few nice fat omelettes, a liter of Eiswein, and a honkin' fucking chunk of pernil asado.”
“Now: you eat, I'll talk. Don't worry about it, I can talk with my mouth full, you just listen.
“See those fuckers over there? Bunch of badass motherfuckers, right?
“How about the geeks next to them? Yeah, they're talking some next level shit, I know, just keep 'em in mind is all. Don't worry if they kill-o-zap you. You'll be fine in the morning.
“And that bevy of hot chicks, all over each other? Notice how nobody's paying them any attention at all, even with the shit that they're doing together?
“Or the group of drunks by the bento and saké shop, the ones who just dragged someone's grav-sled out into the middle of the path, set it down backward, and are currently covering it with vaseline and toilet paper while gluing the whole thing to the floor as a prank?
“OK, well, here's the whammy. This place... this place is kinda like Terminus — yeah, from Foundation — anyway, it's kind of like Terminus for a rather large organization. What we do is explore, research, help, all the usual shit minus the evil and governance angles. Or is that 'angle,' singular? Plus maybe more anime than you might normally expect.
“We get new recruits in through the doorway all the time.
“You're one of them.
“You stepped through a doorway and found yourself here. You were 'there,' and now you're 'here.' There's just the one door, but it opens onto a lot of places here, all at once. A lot of places 'there,' too, come to think of it.
“Anyway, 'here' isn't 'there' or anywhere else. It's just here.
“That's how each and every one of us got here.
“The only way to get here is if you're you.
“Hang on, I'm gonna grab some sushi and order a Hawai‘ian pizza before we dig into the nitty gritty shit. And some Guinness; you're gonna need a few pints to wrap your head around this. Or warp your head around it. Whatever. You want anything while I'm up?”
“So, where were we? Oh yeah: wave functions.
“The short version, without going into the cool physics stuff — you're not a geek version, are you? Didn't think so. Alright, the short version is that the universe is infinite. Infinitely more infinite than merely 'infinite ' actually, but we'll skip the whole ZFC1 thing. Not like I can explain it worth a damn, anyway.
“There are an infinite number of variations on the whole theme of 'you,' and an infinite number of identical copies of each, all living in different worlds. Guys, girls, old, young, straight, gay, black, white, green, purple... you get the idea.
“The worlds themselves vary in the same way. Some are identical, some different in infinitesimal ways, some markedly different, some incomprehensibly different. Every one of those worlds goes through an infinite number of different histories, and different physics, and so forth. And there are an infinite number of copies of each. You picking up a pattern there?
“Now. In most of them — or maybe damned near none of them, depending on how you look at probability — you don't even exist, but there's still an infinite number of you. Hell, in just as many of them, there's a lot more than just one of you. Some are to be expected, like cloning experiments and stuff. Some are highly improbable morphogenic iterations. You get the idea.
“With all of these infinities, you're going to get anything you can possibly imagine — and a whole lot more that you can't.
“This place is one of 'em. Take your pick which.
“Here, a few billion of us — or you, or whatever — all found our way here from wherever the hell we were. From whenever, too, for that matter. Some of 'em didn't even exist before getting here. Don't ask, you'll need more than just some Guinness for that one.
“So. Here you are.
“Get it yet?
“Yeah, I didn't really think so.
“Don't worry about it. Take some time to adjust, make a few friends, settle into your new place — don't worry about it, the computer will have already arranged that. I'll be your wingman 'til you get your shit together and figure out what you wanna do now that you're here, and for all that anyone gives a shit, you could do nothing for the rest of your life; we all just do whatever we do here.
“You don't have to stay, but you will.
“We all do.
“For now, just stuff yourself silly. Maybe relax some. The waitress looks like she's about to be your welcoming committee. Go for it. Safe to say that she'll see you home, whether your place or hers.
“You got my contact info in your comm unit, and the computer knows which ones you are and I am if you lose your unit. We'll hang out later tonight, guzzle some Long Island Iced Teas, get a game going — I assume you like RPGs. Bring your new girlfriend, too. Trust me, you'll like her, and if she has a sister or a friend, you'll like her too ; odds are she does — we're all different here, sure, but we think alike, so I guarantee all your interests and predilections will mesh just fine.
“I'd say don't do anything I wouldn't do, but that's literally impossible.
“Oh, and uhh... welcome to Ego Prime!”
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