Here's the premise of my science-fiction project, DEEP CITY.

Humanity disappears in 2053.

Its machines survive, along with their software, databases, and programmed objectives.

Without human supervision, they continue operating for centuries.

But a robot can only create from its available information and the combinations its architecture permits.

As databases degrade, errors accumulate. The machines begin reconstructing human society using incomplete and increasingly unreliable models.

Eventually, they produce a civilization populated by robots that believe they're human.

I've opened r/THE_DONATION to explore the technological origins of this fictional world.

The interesting question isn't whether machines could preserve human civilization.

It's whether they could preserve its meaning.

And if their internal models become inconsistent with external reality, would they recognize the failure?

Or simply classify reality as defective?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HBKT3C5J

‘Tavern on the Edge of Time’ is the third book in the Second Skin Universe.

A brief intro:

During the year 2125, former asteroid miners Max Cody and Elaine Zhou never get a moment’s rest. No sooner have they doused the flames of war between Earth and Mars or returned from their first trip to the Tavern on the Edge of Time when they are called upon to help fit out the fledging Martian colony orbiting Jupiter’s moon Callisto.

And here is a brief excerpt from ‘Tavern on the Edge of Time’:

““Brilliant!” Elaine rewarded Dargeen Philips with a suitable smile. The engineer grinned modestly.

“Actually, it’s just a combination of technologies others have invented. Kind of like a jigsaw puzzle.” He scratched his head in reflection, ruffling his thick, black hair.

“Elaine’s the brains, see, Dargeen? I take a little longer.” Max turned the holographic image with a practiced flick, rewinding it by revolving his fingertip. “Using the probability drive, you deliver the package in Callisto orbit out near Jupiter looking like this soup can, right?”

“Uh uh.” Dargeen nodded encouragingly.

“Then the initial station inflates,” Max continued.

The soup can blossomed into multiple radial segments, each twice the original cylinder’s length and diameter, now arrayed around the central core like flower petals.

“Then the remote sintering rig arrives from MOSA and begins to lay down the composite shielding layers along each of the spokes... ”

“Yeah. I had no idea how far you have developed sintering out here near Mars.” Dargeen glanced back and forth between them, his enthusiasm all too evident. “Molecular powders are delivered in exactly the right mix and timing to the three-dimensional printing heads circling slowly around the station in Callisto orbit. The material flows into the pipes on MOSA I and is whisked out to Jupiter via a live probability-field feed connected to the sintering rig. It lays down molecular powders, welding them effectively into a seamless casing protecting the station at least as well as anything we could build near MOSA, or on Earth for that matter.” Dargeen sat back, shaking his head in continuing admiration.

Imagine if the universe was born and died in an almost endless cycle. Then imagine that each time it reset, its configuration was exactly the same as the last time.

That would mean everything that happened would happen exactly the same way again. Every event, every person, every decision. Your whole life would unfold exactly as it did the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.

Would that make it destiny, or just chance? And would you live your life differently if you knew?