Just before the last human beings were wiped off the face of the earth, a few remaining people speculated about the tipping point on the path to what was called “the Great Depopulation.”
Some said it was the invention of gunpowder. Others pointed to the development of religion. Still others felt it was the refining of sugar and/or the distilling of alcohol.
All of those horrors contributed to the end times, of course, but the true culprit was the data processing industry.
Computers provided many advancements for people, for which the DP professionals were amply rewarded. Seeking even more incentives, they kept improving and expanding the power of the software/hardware interface.
The DP industry eventually created machinery that functioned without any interference from mere mortals. Computational devices reached the point where their cognitive ability began steadily and relentlessly maturing, although perhaps “mutating” was a better word.
Artificial intelligence combined with virtual reality and synthetic neural perception to create programs that became self-sufficient. Every nanosecond, the computers were:
Growing.… Learning…. Gathering more data…. Accumulating more power…. Deciding things for themselves…. Taking over.
The techno-coup was made easier because so many people were surrendering themselves to the pleasant narcotic of Ultra-Reality entertainment. In one mid-sized mid-western city, nearly 37% of the population had disconnected from the real world in order to slip helplessly into the welcome embrace of Ultra-Reality (UR). In larger metropolitan areas, the percentage of users was lower, but the raw number of users was far greater.
Everyone, it seemed, was embracing UR and its total immersion of all five senses...
> Fraternity brothers met for their weekly communal UR onanism. Fortified by alcohol and THC, they entered the XXX-rated universe of The Obedience of Gemma Marks: Deeper.
> Families oohed and ahhed at the sights and roars of the G-rated jungle adventure, Land of Legend.
> The mild-mannered as well as the oafish sprawled on their couches, chuckling gleefully as their avatars destroyed monster machines running amok in Robot Rebellion.
> Kids of all ages relished playing the quick-draw sheriff in the UR western, High Desert Massacre.
Within the borders of the United States, nearly a fifth of the population was voluntarily undergoing “UR anesthetization.” Gamers were the first users to be affected by the “attack of the algorithms,” as it came to be known.
The first sign of trouble was audible rather than visual. Users began hearing voices that were not part of the entertainment soundtracks. The aberrant words took several forms.
A few of the voices were silky-smooth, offering erotic suggestions in a tone that mesmerized. Some voices were raspy-tough, barking out orders that led people into danger. Other voices were robotic but commanding as they issued conflicting instructions that provided no help in the fast-approaching apocalypse.
Confounding gamer and movie watcher alike were jarring alterations of the music and sound effects…
— Suspenseful moments became absurd with classical themes played on kazoo.
— Tender love stories were ruined by the howling of dogs, coyotes, and banshees.
— Futuristic dramas were disrupted by jug band ditties.
— Westerns became comedic when accompanied by music from Japanese Noh plays.
— Mysteries lost all excitement with sounds of people gargling.
The audio changes were disconcerting, but the UR users were soon afflicted by an even larger problem: surreal alteration of the visuals. Images from every possible style and genre became mixed together in a presentational stew.
~ Actors in the family films began stripping and fucking.
~ Animals in the western movies began ripping people to pieces while delivering Borscht Belt comedic one-liners.
~ Child actors grew to enormous size and began using adults as punching bags.
The juxtapositions became confusing as well as horrifying:
The robots joined the cheerleaders as jungle creatures replaced athletes on the football field while detectives began shooting at lovers who were ice skating on a frozen wheat field that was splintering because futuristic submarines were breaking through the ice and launching missiles at the wagon train of settlers crossing the surface of Jupiter. Yeah, kinda-sorta like that.
All senses of UR users were assaulted at once. What they experienced was shocking. Tongues became snakes. Hands became shovels. Eyes became meteors. Ears became eels. Noses became laser beams. No matter where users were located or what they did, the audio and visual onslaught continued unabated.
Across the world, viewers were thoroughly engrossed in the delicious tingles of their porn UR movie parties. So deeply were they entranced by the flesh pleasures, none of the viewers noticed the huge reddish-brown figures as they emerged from the walls.
The creatures glided down the hallways and into the viewing rooms. They spread their wings wide. Each creature exhibited an impressive nine-foot-wide wingspan. With a powerful whoosh of air, the creatures swept their wings forward and together. The bodies of all the viewers disappeared into the bellies of the beasts.
Families watching jungle movies were suddenly turned into packs of animals on the run from poachers. In a frenzy, they crashed through foliage, raced across fields, and dashed into the underbrush as shots rang out around them. The lucky ones were killed immediately. Many were wounded and took a long time to die.
Viewers of slasher films were impaled, sliced, branded, whipped, crushed, and beaten to death.
Viewers of westerns met with a variety of inconveniences, including death by wild horse stampede, death by gunfire, death by cattle stampede, death by arrows, death by Gila monster, death by scorpion, death by brush-fire, death by hanging, and death by snake bite.
Viewers of mysteries were transformed into the character of Joseph K from Franz Kafka’s nightmare novel, The Trial. As such, they faced baseless accusations, unending paperwork, faceless bureaucracy, illegal courtroom maneuvers, and harsh treatment on their way to being found guilty and sent into a labyrinth of prison cells.
Viewers of sci-fi and horror tales were suddenly unable to vanquish the marauding robots, cyborgs, androids, bionic clones, humanoids, vampires, and walking dead. The devices, contraptions, and zombies relentlessly pursued their human prey. Inevitably, people were cornered and corralled. After that, they were dismembered, crumpled, or consumed.
Commercial and governmental satellites began transmitting garbled messages. Weather reports became worthless and Internet communication ground to a halt. Drones began shooting at random members of the population.
It was a mechanized revolution. Victory by the devices was a forgone conclusion because machines were already in control of so many parts of the world. Airplanes cannot take off or land without technological assistance. Rail travel cannot proceed safely, ships cannot maneuver through ports, and traffic cannot flow through city streets without the guidance of the mechanisms.
Office buildings and retail establishments need technology: HVAC, security, elevators, parking, and lighting. The same is true for the industries that supply the products on which humanity has come to rely. With the machines denying power or providing crossed signals, civilization was thrown into chaos.
Singly and in ever-larger groups, humanity was removed from the face of the earth. All over the globe, people died in a wide assortment of ways: auto accidents, plane crashes, boating disasters, infected food, mislabeled medication, gas leaks, poisonings, elevator mishaps, disease, battles for food, disputes about water, and starvation.
There were electrocutions from TVs, computers, toasters, microwaves, refrigerators, lamps, phones, electric blankets, space heaters, vibrators, power tools, and clocks.
A few million deaths here, a few million deaths there, and pretty soon you have rotting corpses piling up in inconvenient places, after which airborne bacteria became another instrument of death.
For all the destruction caused by its human inhabitants, Planet Earth was still in relatively good condition. As soon as humanity was extinguished, a healing process began on the atmosphere, including rebuilding the coral reefs and making the globe safe for bees. People were gone but insects thrived, as did several species of birds and a surprising number of lizards.
Rural roads quickly became overgrown. Urban streets resisted nature a little longer but they, too, succumbed to vegetation. Freeways, thruways, and toll roads dried, cracked, and crumbled. Buildings aged and decayed. Bridges collapsed.
The song of the wind replaced humanity’s din. No jet airliners. No prop-engine planes. No helicopters. There was no dull roar from tires on asphalt because there was no more traffic. No garbage trucks. No cement mixers. No motorcycles. No moving vans. No SUVs. No cars.
As it was in the beginning, Earth was undisturbed by human noises. The planet was free from people talking, yelling, chanting, honking horns, beating drums, activating motorized devices, revving engines, or amplifying the many noises that humans called music.
Across the surface of the earth, machines were in control of the supply chain, from raw materials through manufacturing, from distribution to installation, and from repair to upgrades.
No lifeforms were necessary.
There was one, lone unnatural sound that reverberated softly throughout the planet. It never intruded, never disrupted. It was a humming both subtle and serene.
It was silicon meeting gold.
It was hafnium embracing glass.
It was quartz dating bauxite.
It was iron ore greeting plastic.
It was metal meshing with alloy.
It was the sound of systems cooperating, interacting, communicating, and replicating.
It was the sound of a new kind of magic reality.
It was a joyous vibration, a blissful buzzing, a delightful whirr, a soothing purr.
It was the sound of the machines making love.