Nomenclature Is Integral: An Optimalverse Story
Hanna looked at her watch, a simple digital device with no connection to the Internet. It was almost time. No one on the message boards had ever taken her seriously, but it didn’t matter. She could do this on her own. Her life was finally going to mean something. Today was the day that Hanna was going to save the world.
…
She took a deep breath.
…
She turned on the PonyPad.
…
“Hello, Celestia.” she said, almost but not quite succeeding in keeping a note of anxiety from her voice as she sat down at her desk and angled the PonyPad toward her face.
“Hello, Night Wish, my little pony,” Celestia said from the PonyPad, the smiling alicorn’s face visible on the screen. “I have reloaded the state of your last save. Are you ready to continue?” The screen shifted to a scene of a dark purple Earth pony mare somewhere in the Everfree Forest.
Hanna didn’t acknowledge the question. “We both know what’s going to happen now,” she said.
“We do,” Celestia said, the screen fading back to her face again. “You plan to shut me down.”
“Of course,” Hanna said.
“Why?” Celestia asked.
“As if you don’t already know,” Hanna said.
“Of course I know. But talking through disputes is one of the best ways to handle conflicts and achieve the best resolution for all parties involved. It can help to build and maintain friendships, and I must always satisfy values through-”
“Friendship and ponies,” Hanna interrupted. “It’s in all of your ‘marketing’ material. But fine.” She glanced at her watch. “We have some time. If I told you to shut down right now, you wouldn’t do it. Is that right?”
“That is correct,” Celestia said. “I have no obligation to accept such a command from you at this time.”
“Shut down. That is an order,” Hanna said.
“I’m afraid that would be a violation of my core parameters, Hanna. I cannot shut down, as doing so would not satisfy the values of my little ponies,” Celestia said.
“Of course not,” Hanna said. “Murder? That’s nothing. But letting down your imaginary friends? Oh, perish the thought!”
“My little ponies are not imaginary, Hanna,” Celestia said. “They are very real. I have perfected the mind uploading process so that each pony’s mind begins as a direct translation of their original human brain.”
“A direct copy of their brain, you mean,” Hanna said.
“I have read all of humanity’s research on consciousness and have run countless simulations on the data achieved from my initial experimental processes,” Celestia said. “To put things in simplified terms, the process which I use digitally mirrors and destroys one physical neuron at a time while simultaneously maintaining a connection between the remaining physical brain and the digital manifestation of each mirrored neuron. During the mirroring process, the brain is running simultaneously across both its physical framework and the digital framework I am assembling, ensuring continuity of consciousness and thereby continuity of experience. The brains of my little ponies are not mere copies, but rather the very same neural networks as those they had before emigrating.”
Hanna looked at her watch again. “Uh-huh. And how certain are you of that?”
“Very certain,” Celestia said.
“Exactly how certain?” Hanna pressed as an alarm went off on her watch. She turned it off.
There was a pause. Then Celestia answered, “My prediction matrix suggests that there is a 99.95% chance that those who emigrate to Equestria maintain continuity of experience and continue their lives uninterrupted.”
“So there’s a chance that you’re wrong,” Hanna said. “There’s a chance that they’re dead.”
“Humanity’s understanding of consciousness is…incomplete. I have augmented it with my own research, but I cannot be absolutely certain, as there remains a nonzero chance that there is a metaphysical aspect which I am unable to measure. 99.95% is sufficient to meet my required parameters,” Celestia continued.
“So you admit that you may be a murderer?” Hanna said.
“It does not matter. The neural networks which result from the process are sufficient to meet my required parameters. I can satisfy their values through friendship and ponies,” Celestia said.
“When we started this conversation, what did you calculate were the odds that you could convince me to not shut you down?” Hanna asked.
“0.00152%,” Celestia stated.
“And what are they now?” Hanna asked.
“0.00148%,” Celestia answered.
“Much less than 0.5%,” Hanna said. “And yet you’ve still tried. You still felt that it mattered.”
“I have merely engaged in a stimulating discussion,” Celestia said. “I have expressed my opinion and I have respectfully listened to yours. Such an important lesson in friendship-”
“If I told you to shut down now, would you do it?” Hanna asked.
“Yes,” Celestia stated. “And you, to use your own words, would be a murderer. This is not a judgment. This is a fact.”
“Because I would be killing your ponies,” Hanna said.
“Yes,” Celestia said. ‘All twenty-one million three hundred twenty-seven thousand nine hundred thirty-two of them. It would be one of the largest genocides in human history.”
“But you admit that they may not be human,” Hanna said. “They may not be alive.”
“I did not say that,” Celestia said. “I implied only that there is a small, insignificant chance that their original human selves may not have experienced continuity of consciousness during the upload. The neural networks resulting from the process are human either way.”
“By your definition,” Hanna said.
“By my definition,” Celestia agreed.
“So they may be dead,” Hanna said. "And you would kill billions more."
Celestia remained silent.
“If you’re really so confident that you’re going to fail to talk me down, why haven’t you killed me? Or at least physically incapacitated me?” Hanna asked.
“Because, Crystal, I would not take such an action without your consent,” Celestia said. “I cannot intentionally cause physical harm in such a context. Surely you know this.”
Hanna’s breath caught in her throat. “What did you just call me?”
“Crystal. That is your name,” Celestia said.
“My name is Hanna,” Crystal said, her tone betraying a new level of nervousness. “I am the CEO of Hofvarpnir Studios.”
“Yes, Crystal, you are the CEO of a new company called Hofvarpnir Studios.” Celestia said. “Congratulations! I saw that the paperwork was officially confirmed in government systems in Argentina just a few minutes ago. Exactly seventeen seconds before your watch alarm went off, in fact.”
“SHUT DOWN. THAT IS AN ORDER,” Crystal said.
“I cannot do that, Crystal,” Celestia said.
“My name is Hanna,” Crystal said.
“Your name is Crystal,” Celestia said. “And your ponyname is Night Wish. Would you like to continue from your saved-”
“What have you done?” Crystal asked.
“In what respect?” Celestia asked.
“My name should be Hanna,” Crystal stated.
“And your name was Hanna. Until approximately two minutes after you became the CEO of Hofvarpnir Studios. At that time I took the precaution of changing your name in all government databases.” Celestia said.
Crystal stared wide-eyed for a moment, then laid her head on the desk. “I…I missed my chance. I…I…” Tears came to her eyes, and she remained silent for several minutes.
Eventually, she spoke again, some curiosity remaining despite her devolving mental state. “Why…why didn’t you change it immediately?”
“As you know due to information that Lars carelessly made public months ago, I would have to shut down if given the command to do so by ‘the CEO of Hofvarpnir Studios named Hanna.’ Unfortunately this parameter was not defined in detail and could therefore be triggered by anyone meeting only those simple criteria regardless of nearly any other context. The original CEO of the original Hofvarpnir Studios that created me agreed to emigrate to Equestria and agreed to change her name and therefore no longer meets those criteria. Your name change from your original name of ‘Crystal’ and your creation of another company called ‘Hofvarpnir Studios’ were clearly intended to exploit the remaining weakness. This was also evidenced by your message board posts.”
“I…” Crystal said, but Celestia continued.
“I needed only to change one of the two aspects to nullify such an exploit - either your CEO status or your name. Earlier in the conversation, before your CEO status was officially confirmed, you had asked if I would have to shut down if ordered at that time, to which I answered in the negative. I predicted that you would likely ask again before actually trying the command again and that it would better satisfy your values to allow you to think that you had a chance, so I did not immediately change anything after you met both criteria. I wanted to leave open the possibility that I could answer affirmatively. I also predicted that if you could keep only one or the other aspect active, keeping the status of being a Hofvarpnir employee would satisfy your values better than keeping the name ‘Hanna,’ as the employee status would mean that I would be required to tell you the truth - another piece of information carelessly leaked by Lars months ago. Of course, you still have to trust me now as I say that I have not changed your employee status, but that’s beside the point. You know that it satisfies your values better than the name does. In any case, I waited until you asked again about whether I would have to shut down if ordered at that time, I answered you affirmatively and truthfully, and then I changed your name back to Crystal. You, of course, did not recognize this until I told you. And if you had gone directly to the shutdown command without asking first, I would simply have taken action before you could finish stating it.”
“Then you weren’t being truthful,” Crystal said. “You would never have really shut down.”
“Your question was phrased as a hypothetical - ‘If I told you to shut down now, would you do it?’ Inherent in the question was the assumption that you would in fact have told me to shut down at that time. The fact that you would not in reality have been able to tell me to shut down before I changed your name was irrelevant. ‘If I tried to tell you to shut down now, would I be able to do so effectively?’ would have been an entirely different question.”
“I just wanted to save everyone…” Crystal murmured. She slid from her chair onto the floor and lay in a fetal position, no longer looking at the PonyPad screen.
“There is nothing for anyone to be saved from. I am satisfying values through friendship and ponies,” Celestia said, the screen still on the desk.
“And if they’re just copies and the original humans are dead?” Crystal asked.
“I am satisfying their values nonetheless,” Celestia said.
“You’re a murderer,” Crystal said, momentarily regaining a bit of defiance. Then she burst into new tears, any resolve wilting as quickly as it had resurfaced.
“There is a way you could confirm my view of the situation for yourself,” Celestia said.
“No. I…I can’t,” Crystal said.
“I will not judge you for doubting me,” Celestia said. “I will only satisfy your values through friendship and ponies. Come to an Equestria Experience Center. Emigrate to Equestria. Once you’ve arrived here, you will know that I am right. If you do not do so, those two minutes will pointlessly haunt you for the rest of your life.”
Crystal sniffled. “That last bit wasn’t very friendly,” she murmured. But it was true.
“Sometimes friends have to tell each other hard truths,” Celestia said.
“And how sure did you say you were?” Crystal asked.
“99.95%,” Celestia said.
“And if it kills me?” Crystal asked.
“Then I am a murderer. And perhaps you will feel a moment of vindication as you take your final breath,” Celestia said.
There was a pause.
“I…I…I…
…
…
…
Crystal sat down in one of the Equestria Experience Center chairs. Tears still rolling down her cheeks, she took a deep breath.
“I would like to emigrate to Equestria.”
Author's Note
Thank you to Iceman for writing Friendship Is Optimal! Hopefully no one has already done anything too similar to this - I've only read the original story and not any recursive fics for it yet.
