MARTHA LEWIS ON BOARD FOR MAPS FROM THE FLOATING WORLD

Well, after mumbling for years about doing an online comic, I’ve finally arrived at the moment where it’s time to put my money where my mouth is.

I’ve been doodling around for quite a while now on a far future storyline about human-AI hybrids set in a post-biosphere civilization called the Floating World.

The name “Maps From the Floating World” is meant to evoke the famous Ukiyo-e woodcuts of 18th Century Japan. Ukiyo-e (usually translated into English as “Pictures of the Floating World”) were the ancestral art form of modern Japanese manga: mass-produced illustrations for glamorous stories about the geisha, samurai, intellectuals and rich merchants who populated Japan’s great 17th century cities. The original “Pictures of the Floating World” depicted a profoundly new environment in Japanese (and human) history: an urban universe on the cusp of industrialization, full of people uprooted from their rural past and looking for new stories and new ways of living.

In the large scope of human cultural evolution, it’s only a few short steps from 17th century Japan’s “nightless cities” to the overwhelming, disorienting, chaotic cityscapes of cyberpunk … or from the floating world’s geishas and ronin to cyberpunk’s razor girls and keyboard cowboys. I’ve tried to draw a line between these two points — iconic images of proto-industrial urbanism on the one hand and post-industrial science fiction on the other hand — and project it into a distant future. The inhabitants of my imagined Floating World are also people uprooted from their past and trying to chart their course through a new reality. In this case, however, it is the post-biosphere reality of Life After Earth.

The central figures in the story are the human-AI hybrids who map, maintain and repair the informational threads of the Floating World. In essence, they are cosmic systems administrators. But the system they administer is humanity itself, and it is so vast and so old that no one even remembers whether it’s the real world or just a virtual echo of a world long-dead. I guess you could call these AIs gods … if gods were fallible and mortal. The surviving human inhabitants of the Floating World just call them Tinkers.

Okay. So much for idle daydreams. What pushed this project beyond the realm of idle daydreams was meeting artist Martha Lewis.

Martha’s work is truly amazing. It explores technological and scientific images in a way that explodes all the stale old assumptions and stereotypes we’ve come to associate with scientific (and science fictional) illustration. Her paintings have the hypnotic, iconic, otherworldly quality of ancient maps. You can get lost in them. You can imagine futuristic monks meditating in front of them. You could even meditate in front of them yourself. The first time I saw one of her paintings, I had that kick-in-the-gut feeling of having found something I hadn’t even known I was looking for.

Thus, I am very, very excited to be able announce that Martha has tentatively agreed to collaborate on the Floating World project.

At this stage we’re still just throwing ideas at the walls and seeing which ones stick. But the eventual goal is to construct an online graphic novel that will be truly a creature of the web, written, drawn, and designed as fragments of linked hypertext. Eventually, we hope to weave a number of interconnected stories together so that readers will be free to navigate the links between various storylines in any order they choose, be it following the adventures of a favorite character or constructing a large scale history of the system as a whole. In essence, we would like the comic itself to function as a virtual Floating World … one where each reader will be free to construct his or her own personal map of the territory.

All these grand plans are still a long way off, of course. But we are moving forward. I’ll keep you posted on our progress. And hopefully I’ll have some good stories and pretty pictures for you in the not-too-distant future…..

Data Storage for Immortals

I’m in the middle of the first draft of GHOST SPIN, and it’s got me thinking about the practical problems of uploaded personalities. The biggest problem as I see it is one that people barely ever talk about: data storage. I mean, any way you slice it an uploaded human being is one bigass pile of bits.

There’s a lot of interesting physics research going on right now that could have implications for how we might this kind of massive data storage problem. For instance, by using Bose-Einstein Condensates to slow down the speed of light. Or, more cheaply, by simply broadcasting large streams of bit into deep space for subsequent retrieval. I stumbled on this piece about deep space data storage recently and it got me thinking….

Broadcasting is cheap, especially if you’re not worried about encryption (more on that below). I mean, basically, we’re already storing large amounts of data in deep space, including every single radio and television program ever broadcast. If you ask me, American Idol and Rush Limbaugh aren’t the way I’d advertise human civilization to any aliens who happen to be listening in. But as cheap, reliable data storage, broadcasting can’t be beat.

So. Now you can store your uploaded self for free. Even better, you can pick up the broadcast anywhere within Earth’s future lightcone, so your upload would always be on tap in case your current incarnation suffers an unforseen mishap. New body, new lease on life, but all the old sweet memories. It’s virtual immortality. The only catch is that you wouldn’t be able to access the data that was still in transit when you were downloaded back into your new body.

We’ve all read about characters who wake up in cloned bodies knowing nothing about their last life except that someone hated them enough to murder them. (Walter Jon Williams and Sean Williams have both written excellent novels based on this premise, which makes me wonder if their shared last name is just coincidence or something more sinister….) But murder is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to unencrypted personality uploads.

‘Cause here’s the thing. There are solutions to the missing memories problem. But none of them are free. And if there’s one thing we know with absolute certainty, it’s that when there’s a rock bottom cheap way to wriggle out of providing adequate health care benefits, some employer somewhere will inflict it on their employees.

Yep. I’m seeing pathetic hordes of uploaded personalities wandering the galaxy in search of their missing memories; coughing up exorbitant “download” fees to get their loved ones out of transmission limbo; playing legal shell games with the lawsuit-proof companies that hold their reincarnation service contracts. And spending multi-year “transmission lags” wondering what they don’t know about their last life because their employer decided not to optimize their upload.

Naturally, the skinflint principle would also apply to encryption. Encrypting your upload costs. But the cost of not encrypting? Knowing that anyone in your future lightcone can pirate an illicit copy of you and do whatever they damn well please with it. I can just see the advertising copy: “Some things are priceless. For everything else there’s EncryptoCard….”

There’s gotta be a story in this. I’ll get back to you once I’ve rounded up the usual suspects and managed to find some likely victims . . . er, characters . . . to inflict it on.