After being eaten by a mountain lion, Squint was discovered by future people who brought him back to life in their computer simulations.  Computers in the future are far more powerful than we could imagine, they can open parallel universes like how we open files and folders.  Now Squint is living in a computer system, his program running on 'the cloud' at Homeworld Earth.

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Chapter 35 – From Cubits To Qbits

  Life in the future computer cloud wasn’t bad at all, in fact it was pretty fun.  Alice had shown me around the computer environment and taught me how to use modern PCs to travel through the parallel computer worlds.  I got a job solving human-verification captchas for artificially intelligent software programs who just needed things like a custom email address, or a loan for example.  And Ali (that was her real name, but I was still calling her Alice) introduced me to all of her online friends as ‘that time-traveler guy she had been vlogging about’.  Everybody kept asking me who I thought the next prime minister was going to be, and even though I told them I didn’t know, they kept insisting that I give my opinion anyway because it would somehow get them a better score on social media. 

  I felt a little out of place, everyone seemed different than me somehow.  I could tell that they were just using words and phrases that someone from my era would be familiar with, but they seemed to struggle at socializing with me.  I just assumed that I was like a cave man compared to them and that no matter how interesting my personal story was to me, it didn’t compare to what they knew about science and technology;  Ali may as well have told everybody that I was a pterodactyl rider from the Ice Age, it meant nothing compared to the nearly god-like capabilities of their quantum computers. 

  Eventually I had earned a few Satoshis.  Ali said it was a lot of money, especially for someone who was just solving captchas.  I asked her what I should spend it on but she suggested that I figure that part out on my own.  While I was searching for stuff to buy I found a support-group for people who had been brought back to life by the computers, just like me.  Apparently the future was running out of fresh genetics and a new industry had emerged to analyze and simulate people from the past.  We were being kept alive in parallel universes while the software that kept us going ran on quantum computers at home-world Earth. 

  The support group was called ‘Afterlife Survivors’, and their info-graphic in the listing said that it was an informal gathering of ‘returnees’ that met at someplace called a Special Resource Center every Tuesday, and it gave a set of very specific coordinates to the location in a parallel universe and how to get there.  “Hmm, Tuesdays,” I thought to myself out-loud, “I guess I’m gonna need to get a watch.” 

  Later that day I started to show Ali the new watch I bought with just one Satoshi and she nearly freaked out.  “What do you need a watch for, Squint?  You’re a computer!  And that watch isn’t even worth one sixty fourth of a Satoshi.  You just wasted a lot of money,” she said, “Actually, I’m surprised you were even able to find such a bad deal.” 

  “But it’s got all these cool features, it can do more than the computers from my time could ever do.” I started to reply.  But she stopped me there, “Squint, you just don’t understand the value of money.  That one Satoshi could have bought an entire watch business.”  She let out a deep sigh, “Look, I feel obligated to help you since I’m the one who found you and brought you to this time.  So I think I should teach you about finances and how to invest what’s left of your money more wisely.  How much do you have left anyway?” 

  “I don’t know,” I said, “Let me check.”  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Bitcoin wallet which Ali had insisted on giving me when she welcomed me into her life.  Looking at the tiny screen on the little wallet gadget I said, “Aww, now it says I only have one BitCent.”  Ali gave me a confused look and said, “What?!  Can I see your wallet please?”  I handed it to her and she read the tiny screen carefully, “Squint,” she just muttered and handed it back to me. 

  “What is it?” I asked, “Did I get robbed or something?  I could have sworn it was a higher number...”  Ali burst out into uproarious laughter.  I was startled.  She was nearly foaming at the mouth by the time she calmed down enough to speak coherently again.  “Squint, a BitCent is worth a hundred thousand Satoshis!”  My ears perked up, “Huh?” I asked, completely bewildered.  She kept laughing some more, but eventually she calmed down enough to explain that apparently I really had bought the watch business instead of just the single wrist-piece.  We did some googling and found out the news had spread far and wide that someone from my era of greed and profits had bought a failing business, and now investors from all over the place were buying stock in my company like hotcakes. 

  The value of the company had soared just on the rumor alone that I might possibly turn it around and make it profitable again.  In fact, earlier that afternoon, the employee-bots released a new ‘retro’ line of watches to celebrate having a new owner from the distant past, and the retro watches were selling like hotcakes too.  “What do I do?” I asked Ali.  She just shook her head and laughed, “I don’t know, I’ve never seen that much money before.” she said.  I thought for a moment and then asked, “Do you know anybody who might want to buy a watch business?” 

  “Hang on, I’ll ask around for you.” Ali replied.  Then she started starring at the sky again.  A few moments later she said that someone was offering about twelve BitCents for the company.  I looked at the hardware wallet again and now it was showing that I had earned about two more BitCents during the time it took for me to grasp what one BitCent was worth.  “Oh, wait!”  she said, “Now there’s another offer for twenty five BitCents.” 

  “Let’s wait a little while and see what the highest offer will be.” I said.  Ali responded with a nod and “Okay!”, she seemed to be getting very excited now.  Eventually Ali had some of her friends come over to keep us company while we waited for more offers.  One of them brought pizza to celebrate, and another brought popcorn.  “So, what are you going to do with all that money?” Asked the young lady who brought the pizza, I think her name was Top or something weird like that.  I had to think for a moment to answer her question.  “I don’t know,” I said, “I think I should probably just hold onto it until I really understand what it’s worth so that I don’t waste it.”  They all agreed that it was a wise decision.  Ali mentioned something about being able to do practically anything I wanted to do.  Top said I could live like a king for decades and still retire wealthy.  As I sat there eating pizza and popcorn I felt as if I had died and gone to heaven.  Just then Ali turned to look at me with a huge grin on her face, “But Squint, you did.  You did die and go to heaven.” 

  The next Tuesday I learned more about what Ali meant by Heaven after the support group.  It was a small meeting in the basement of an old church with FSM in big bold letters on the front door. Someone explained that normally they had more people showing up, but there was a virus going around and a lot of them had decided to stay home.  It still seemed like a lot of people to me, but I estimated that it was a group of about 15 to 20. 

  There were drawings and paintings hung on one of the walls, some were simple stick figure things but others were pretty well done.  Then I noticed a series of colorful drawings depicting some kind of flying spaghetti monster involved in all kinds of random activities like riding a turtle that was riding on the back of another turtle, or working in a factory.  I looked more closely at that last one and realized that the spaghetti guy was happily building squirrels on an assembly line.  “Huh, that’s interesting.” I thought out loud. 

  “Oh, yes, the Lord works in mysterious ways.” came a familiar voice from behind me.  I reeled around quickly to see former President Nixon standing there.  He was obviously drunk, but he recognized me right away. “Hey, I know you… President Zapper!”  He said, probably referring to that political phase I had gone through in an alternate timeline.  I gave him a funny look, “Um, it’s Crusher actually, Squint Crusher,” I said. 

  “Right, right.  Do you still have that raygun?” he asked.  I put my face in the palm of my hand and took a deep breath, then I asked, “So hey, uh, how did you get here?”  He seemed surprised by my question and asked me, “What do you mean, don’t you know?  They’re bringing back all the old presidents with those new-fangled computer things.  They’re gonna put us all in some sort of simulation.  Why wouldn’t you know that?”  I thought for a second and replied, “Oh, they found me on a different timeline, I was the last man on Earth and...” 

  “Wow, that’s far out man!” Nixon said, “Hey, you wanna get high?”  Now it was my turn to be surprised.  I didn’t even want to hang out with him, “Uh, no thanks man, I’m just here for the group thing.”  He acted like he didn’t know what I was talking about, “Huh?  What group?”  I had to remind him that the Afterlife Survivors group was having a meeting there in the FSM Church. 

  Walking away from Nixon, I started looking around again.  Apparently the future people must have been bringing back mostly famous people from their history.  Some I recognized like Nixon, but others I didn’t know.  I kind of hoped that I might get to meet Socrates, but I didn’t see him there. 

  “Okay everybody, let’s get started,” came a woman's voice from the front of the room.  Everybody began to sit down at the tables so I sat down too.  The young woman spoke up again, “I see some new faces here today so I think we should go around the room and introduce ourselves again.  I’ll start, my name is Amelia.  Amelia Earhart.  I was a pilot, that’s someone who controls and navigates a flying machine called an airplane.  I crashed on an uninhabited island and lived there by myself for a little while until the future people came and found me.” 

  “Hi Amelia.”  The crowd all spoke at once.  Then Amelia Earhart looked at the man sitting next to her and he said, “Hi everybody, My name’s Raul Epogga.  I helped fight off the extraterrestrial invasion when they came for our fluids, well actually tiny things inside all of us that we called enzymes and amino acids, things like that.  The future people tell me that my idea was the one that saved Earth, but I died before I got to see our victory.  I guess the aliens must have seen my tweet, because they blew up my whole town just before we won.”  Amelia put her hand on his shoulder, “Don’t be so humble, Raul.  You’re a hero.”  He nodded and mumbled something about survivors guilt. 

  They all went around the tables introducing themselves and telling their stories.  As they talked I realized that eventually it would be my turn to tell my story.  I had to think a little about what I would say, but I couldn’t decide on how to explain time travel or lucidity.  Everyone else seemed like they were really good at telling their stories and I was getting nervous.  Just then the door opened and somebody who looked like Jesus came walking in.  Suddenly everyone forgot all about telling stories.  Everyone was saying, “Hi Jesus”.  Oh my God!  Was it really him?  Yes, I was saved!  With any luck I might not have to tell my story in front of the crowd.

  Jesus walked right up to me and said, “Hey, you’re new here aren’t you?”  He seemed really friendly.  I nodded and asked if the future people brought him back too.  He smiled and said something about how he got a ride from his dad when the timing was right.  Then he asked me to take a walk with him. 

  Of course I agreed to take a walk with Jesus.  I felt like I should have had a lot of questions for him, but I couldn’t think of any good ones.  “So, I heard you got a watch business.”  He said, “You know, they used to call my dad a watch maker.”  I smiled at him.  Then as we crossed the road I finally thought of a question, “By the way, what does FSM stand for?” I asked. 

  Jesus just looked at me for a moment, “Oh that,” he said, “well apparently in my absence people got this idea in their heads that God was a Flying Spaghetti Monster, so now that’s how they imagine the great creator.  I wasn’t too impressed with the Monster part, but admittedly Pops does have his moments.” Jesus chuckled a little bit, “Kind of like this one...” 

  Just then a black unmarked van came to a screeching halt right next to us and the door slid open.  “What?” I tried to ask.  But Jesus gently pushed me into the vehicle without another word and then someone slid the door closed as the van peeled out. 

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