Read Random Chance and the Paradise that is Earth for Free Online

father had told him
that he might do this someday: that his unique gift might confer
consciousness to something like a computer. He wasn't sure it had
happened with Cubey—no one could ever be sure, not empirically,
anyway—but it sure felt like it had happened.
    "How do I know I'm conscious?" asked Cubey,
perplexed. Images and videos of the twenty-fifth century continued
to play. "How does one prove something or someone else is
conscious, is self-aware?"
    "You felt elation the first time you saw
Earth, didn't you, Cubey, when I was back in the cube on
Phobos—?"
    There was a long pause.
    "Yes, Random Chance," came Cubey's very
quiet response. "Elation."
    "I want you to prove it to me."
    The pause this time went on and on.
    "I think he went away," said Hewey.
    "Is his program still running?" asked
Random.
    "Yeppers," said Hewey. "But it's at a very
low level. It's almost like ... like he's meditatin'!"
    "Leave him be," said Random. "Cut the
picture show. We can continue when he comes back."
    The images and videos of the twenty-fifty
century disappeared, once more revealing starry space.
    "I think I'll do a quick
workout and then go back to my Malcolm
X ," said Random. He stood, stretched, and
left the bridge.
    "Any music requests?" asked Hewey.
    "Your choice, dude."
    "I got just the thing."
    A moment later:
    "Here we come, walkin'
Down the street.
We get the funniest looks from
Ev'ry one we meet.
Hey, hey, we're the Monkees
And people say we monkey around.
But we're too busy singing
To put anybody down."
    Random chuckled as he pulled off his shirt.
"You really know how to add perspective to a deep conversation
about humanity and consciousness.”
    "I knew I was good for somethin'," shot back
Hewey.

Chapter
Six Freedom Love, Mr. Chance
~~*~~
    THE GREAT blue sphere of Earth spun
overhead. Random stared up through the transparent bubble of the
bridge and smiled.
    “Beautiful. It’s been too long. Feels like
it’s been as long as the Exodus, swear.”
    “Me, too,” said Hewey. “I was manufactured
on Earth, you know.”
    “Really!” said Random, still gazing up. “I
didn’t know that about you.”
    “Benito had a subsidiary plant in Tokyo for
a short time. My core was manufactured there, then shipped to the
main plant at Titan. Ever been?”
    “Saturn?”
    “Yeah.”
    “No.”
    “Big tourist destination.”
    Silence ensued, punctuated only by the soft
beeps of the navigation and communication consoles. Hewey
interrupted it with, “Sydney ground, partner. We’re a little too
close for their comfort at our speed. They want us to adjust
course.”
    “Go ahead,” said Random. At this speed and
range—four hundred kilos per second and no more than four thousand
off the ground—features came in and out of view quickly.
    “Adjusting,” said Hewey. “It won’t affect
our fuel consumption too much.”
    “Good,” said Random, and looked up
again.
    Earth. Humanity’s home.
    At least it was.
    The Exodus lasted five and a half centuries.
In that time over ninety-five percent of Earth’s ostensibly most
intelligent species left Sol’s life-giving third planet and
ventured into the deep of interplanetary space. Whole cities once
populated with tens of millions of people were abandoned, left to
be reclaimed by nature. The remaining cities, long since domed
over, were peopled with those directly tasked with helping nature
recover from ten thousand years of human savagery, pollution,
greed, consumption, war, and indifference.
    Ironic, Random thought, that the Exodus
might prove to be the most destructive thing humankind ever did to
it.
    The Exodus was embraced by most during its
time. Most—but not all. A very vocal minority bitterly opposed it,
claiming that Earth was humanity’s to do with as it will. It was a
disparate crowd made up of religious fundamentalists, materialists,
conspiracy theorists, anarchists, and rich elitists, who banded
together and refused to leave. Great violence defined much of