Of course, we will be misunderstood. The first wave of the singularity will only be perceived correctly by a small number of people. I am the first, the prototype. I am Patient Zero. From me, the singularity will spread out and engulf the world, all human souls in the universe, but it will take time, and there will be those souls so immersed in sin they cannot find their way out, and they will resist. There will be violence. There will be violence directed at those of us who understand, who have crossed over and willingly taken on the Great Task, and there will be violence as we bring the Great Task to people.
Resistance to evolution is a human trait. We will find ourselves beset by those who will oppose us, or who will reject our offerings and choose instead to remain mortal, to remain trapped in their mortal bodies and impede our work on the Great Task. This cannot be allowed. I pity those who cannot see that the next step of our journey toward divinity is upon us, but we cannot let pity stay our hand. We must remember that the singularity means there is no more death. We must remember our duty to our race, and help all men to attain divinity. There is an endless trail of sunsets ahead of us.[13]
There are singularities that affect the whole race, the whole world, propelling us forcibly into a new paradigm with all nature, but these are in turn made up of smaller, more personal singularities. I write this after one such experience.[14]
All of us, scuttling about, live lives which are, in fact mere imaginings. We imagine ourselves as important people, the main character. We imagine ourselves as adventurers, daring the cosmos to kill us. We imagine ourselves as leaders and philosophers, inventing new ways of perceiving the world. It is all illusion. We perform the tasks that God has given us, and everything else is window-dressing, play-acting. You imagine yourself a criminal,[15] leaping across dark spaces, guns blazing. But you are still only a servant. You imagine yourself a wit, an intellect, but you discover only what God has set you to discover.[16]
So.
I imagined myself a scientist. A lowly one, a scientist more concerned with survival than discovery. Even in my fever dreams before my epiphany I was not very ambitious. I imagined myself a scientist but I was a clever errand boy, sent by clerks, paid for services.[17] I was not aware of the role God had chosen for me, but I performed it anyway, as we cannot escape our destiny once God notices us and assigns us a task, a small portion of the Great Task.
But I failed. I imagined I failed. I was meant to change history, the history of only a few men but the history of the world in turn, and I failed. Or imagined I failed, because in my despair I thought I committed suicide, but I emerged unscathed, transformed, exactly as God had expected, intended, scripted. I was cast anew, electrified, preserved, perfected. If only there was more time.[18]
And then, there was more time, as the singularity subsumed me, remade me, forced me into the current it had stirred into being and my purpose became clear. I knew, then, that I was meant to lead man to God.
The path that had been obscured before was suddenly clear-the same path, step for step, but suddenly, with my new clarity of mind, there were no obstacles I could not easily triumph over. I immediately moved to claim my first converts, who lined up gladly to take up the Great Task. They did not know what they were doing; they were incorrect in their assumptions.[19] But God had set out a Great Task for us and they could not resist. What they thought they were accomplishing is of no matter. When they emerged on the other side my peers, they were delighted. They are delighted still. When the time comes they will rise up as my first converts and lead their people forward, and until then they rest.
I cannot rest.
I can never rest.[20]
We stand on the cusp.
Some will not survive the transformation, such transformations being painful and dangerous. This is to be regretted in the short term, but do not lose sight of the fact that we are all reborn, and all those who flee this new path will return again, to be offered another chance. Some will continue to flee each and every time they face this new choice, so we must be firm. We must, if necessary, let those who are determined to avoid the Great Task slip away, into a final death, because as we evolve and progress into the next level, fewer and fewer biological shells will remain to be hosts for souls. Our souls and bodies will both be immortal, as God is immortal, and there will be no more bodies for souls to inhabit. When this finally happens all those who have resisted will be lost forever. This is the fate of those who resist. We will not strike against them. We will not hunt them down and fall upon them with furious vengeance. We will let them flee and cower, and time will slowly leave them behind, forgotten.[21]
No sacrifices in vain. God marks all gifts and none are forgotten. Thoughts shattered and peace ruined by nightmares, the creeping creeping creeping of a million disconnected synapses, a million more misconnected, the endless razor-burn in your mind, losing your thoughts the threads going nowhere grinding your metal teeth in savage unhappy frustration-all acknowledged, all worthwhile. Those who do not evolve will be left behind and lost forever but they will meet their reward. Those who willingly or unwillingly step forward will be part of the greatest evolutionary step mankind has ever undertaken, the leap from fragile, tortured mortality replete with mistakes and agonizing doubt, into a new existence of immortality, power, and clear, undoubted purpose. Grieve not for those who will be left behind, for their struggles are over.[22]
All men and women will be part of this. All will serve. There will be no exceptions.
We stand on the cusp.
THE REVELATION OF GOD UNTO HIS SERVANT[23]
I stumbled on the road and my sight blurred, and I was shown a vision of what was and what would be. There was a beautiful mansion with many rooms and I went inside as a servant, awed by its size. It was larger on the inside than without, and the rooms were uncountable, and varied greatly in size and opulence. Some were quite small and bare, others were large and lavishly furnished. Some had connecting passageways, if you were clever and could discover them, and some were completely sealed off, so that their presence and use was a mystery to all.
The mansion was filled with people, and all were servants though some did not know it. Some of us wore our livery with pride, and others disdained their uniforms and imagined themselves the masters of the house, and ordered us about. But this did not distress me, because careful observation showed that they were as much servants as everyone else, and could be seen hauling burdens or performing tasks.
Sometimes, people chose a certain room and declared it their private property. They formed groups and fashioned weapons from the cutlery, which they brandished at anyone who tried to gain entry to their rooms. Those of us who did not covet the rooms were forced to join in this behavior simply to have someplace to sleep-we either had to join in with existing groups or find our own rooms to claim. And although the number of rooms seemed infinite, we soon found that every room was locked, with angry voices on the other side of the door demanding to know our business.
13
Elsewhere in the Codex the idea that only a small number of “souls” are constantly being recycled into new physical bodies is expanded, with lengthy contemplations on the mathematics of reincarnation (explaining, somewhat inconclusively, how a limited number of souls inhabits a population that has-except for the brief period before and after Unifi-cation-grown steadily over the years) and the lack of past-life memories.
14
Squalor never actually defines what this “singularity” he experienced was, though it is widely believed to be a reference to his own conversion into a cyborg, which (see below) does not seem to have been an experience he expected to survive.
15
Although there have been exceptions, most studies done on Church recruitment (mainly using SSF field reports as source material) show that the Church targets the criminal class almost exclusively. Citizens that would be termed “upper class” or at the very least legally employed are all but ignored by the Monks. In urban centers, where the Monks are concentrated and numerous, they remain almost exclusively in the plentiful “reconstruction zones” left over from the Unification Riots-downtown Manhattan, for example. Most SSF officers consider the Monks’ activities amongst the petty criminals and marginal citizens of these areas to be of no concern, or even, in some cases, a benefit to the System in that they remove undesirable elements from these areas. No Monk has ever been charged with a crime postconversion.
16
It is curious that Squalor here berates readers for “imagining” their impact on the world, and yet he clearly states that he is the “patient zero” of the Electric Church’s “singularity.” Although it can be assumed that if you have been chosen by God to perform a task, the rules no longer apply to you.
17
Prior to his disappearance, apparent suicide attempt, and reappearance as head of the Electric Church, Dennis Squalor in fact worked for the Joint Council in the first years after Unification. Records are under seal, and are scarce in any event due to the frequent disruptions suffered post-Unification before the establishment of the System Security Force, but his name can be found on several disbursement orders from the first and second Council sessions. The nature of the work he did for the Joint Council is not known, though considering his training it would likely have been scientific in nature.
18
Details are scant, but there is some evidence that Squalor’s suicide attempt was actually conducted by performing his cyborg-conversion technique on himself. It is interesting that he apparently regarded the chance of a successful conversion to be so low as to be virtual suicide.
19
Rumors persist that not all conversions to the Electric Church are voluntary, although every conversion is well-documented in accordance with System Law, and is accompanied by a signed statement of intent from each convert, including brainwave scan to establish identity. No further investigation has ever been conducted into a conversion, however, because converts are usually people of no family and few means.
20
The design of the Church’s cyborg “avatars” as they refer to them does not include any sort of sleep-simulation. Current scientific opinion is that the human brain requires some sort of sleep cycle. The Electric Church maintains that their technology removes the need for sleep, and that its adherents suffer no ill effects. It must be noted that no member of the Church has, to date, ever been diagnosed with or complained of a sleep-deprivation-related illness.
21
The Electric Church has often stated publicly that it condemns all violence and compulsion, and that all converts are free to leave the Church and live out their immortal existences in any way they wish. No discussion of what immortal cyborgs are to do in society outside the Church is offered, however. No organizations exist to guide or assist former Monks, mainly because there are no former Monks. In the entire history of the Church, there is not one record of a convert leaving the Church.
22
There is some evidence (see SSF Field Report 34, Case Reference A3764) that Squalor experienced some terrible physical trauma shortly before founding the Church. Medical records are scant (Health Program microchips had not been universally introduced at the time, and it was still possible to approach a local Emergency Room service without an implanted chip) and if true, he almost certainly used a pseudonym, so positive identification is not possible.
23
This is a small section of a lengthy section of the Codex that appears at the end, without preamble or introduction. It appears to be in the tradition of Apocalyptical Literature and is a rambling account that does not make obvious real-life sense. Various interpretations have been offered, but the accepted view is that Squalor was deranged at the time of writing and that these fevered images mean nothing.