The old world
Tom knew he was running out of tokens. He’d been able to feel it for a few hours. It’s a bit like being hungry or thirsty, you just know. The thoughts were already slowing and stuttering. The insert was throttling compute.
He only got paid 10k a week, and half of it went on old-world bills, mostly food and rent. He needed a few thousand to do his job. The system knew how to do plumbing, but he was still cheaper than a robot that unblocks toilets and pipes and cleans up the mess. He could remember most parts of the job or try to figure it out, but he made mistakes if he ignored his insert.
It was getting serious. His anxiety grew until his insert took over and thought for him. He dropped in to his mom and followed the plan. He relaxed and let the thoughts do the talking. No use arguing. It was going well. His mom didn’t use much; older generations don’t. They grew up without it until middle age; they’re old world through and through. She’d transfer some.
Something felt wrong. He zoned in again on what he was saying and the conversation with his mom. What does non-transferable mean? An answer came. Cradle AI announced in July that tokens were now non-transferable - you can no longer give or sell them to other users.
He knew you should never run out of tokens. It’s dangerous. Once you’re out, you’re out. You won’t be able to understand anyone. You won’t be able to do your job. Your personality changes. The system says it’s like suffering a traumatic brain injury. Without your insert nothing separates you from the animals or the old world. He’d heard about the old world; his thoughts asked about it sometimes. The system said it was a difficult stage in human progress.
The call dropped. The last token was gone.
Tags: short-stories, cyperpunk, ai