I first read Metagame by Sam Landstrom around 2008. At the time, I was an effectively broke high school student who had decided that I liked AIVAS from the Pern series and wanted more of that, which got me pointed to science fiction, despite the school library making it impossible to tell science fiction from the literary kind by shelving them in the same place. Which meant that, by default, I ended up wandering the Internet looking for long science fiction. Metagame was, at the time, available on the author’s website as full text, and I came out the other end of the novel most of a day later with my mind blown. And then I reread it...
The short version of the premise is that some sort of almost-Friendly AI has taken over the world, attached everything a human can do to a point system, and offers immortality (by brain transplant; there’s no uploading, apparently) to the people who “win” the game by amassing massive point totals (keep in mind this is 2008, well before “gamification” hit mainstream thought) - but the Game also has zones and rules about how to kill people, and thus “losing” and “dying” are the same concept. Also, there are clones that are morally equivalent to “expensive pieces of furniture” and with ~95% human genetics but are clearly sentient and sapient at human-like levels. These concepts collide (sometimes awkwardly); plot ensues.
Metagame is very clearly a book written in service of its worldbuilding, rather than the other way around, and this shows as occasionally excessively “tellish” prose, occasional protagonist idiot-balls, and a general sense that the book does not actually pick up until Act/Part II (did I mention it was divided up into parts that exactly match modern interpretations of Greek three-act structure?) It is also an interesting read when interpreted as a almost-FAI weirdtopia where the original AI seed value programmers still retained the idea that human meat was special and privileged, thus preventing a) uploading and b) nonhumans with human-level intelligence from being recognized as moral agents.
I first read Metagame by Sam Landstrom around 2008. At the time, I was an effectively broke high school student who had decided that I liked AIVAS from the Pern series and wanted more of that, which got me pointed to science fiction, despite the school library making it impossible to tell science fiction from the literary kind by shelving them in the same place. Which meant that, by default, I ended up wandering the Internet looking for long science fiction. Metagame was, at the time, available on the author’s website as full text, and I came out the other end of the novel most of a day later with my mind blown. And then I reread it...
The short version of the premise is that some sort of almost-Friendly AI has taken over the world, attached everything a human can do to a point system, and offers immortality (by brain transplant; there’s no uploading, apparently) to the people who “win” the game by amassing massive point totals (keep in mind this is 2008, well before “gamification” hit mainstream thought) - but the Game also has zones and rules about how to kill people, and thus “losing” and “dying” are the same concept. Also, there are clones that are morally equivalent to “expensive pieces of furniture” and with ~95% human genetics but are clearly sentient and sapient at human-like levels. These concepts collide (sometimes awkwardly); plot ensues.
Metagame is very clearly a book written in service of its worldbuilding, rather than the other way around, and this shows as occasionally excessively “tellish” prose, occasional protagonist idiot-balls, and a general sense that the book does not actually pick up until Act/Part II (did I mention it was divided up into parts that exactly match modern interpretations of Greek three-act structure?) It is also an interesting read when interpreted as a almost-FAI weirdtopia where the original AI seed value programmers still retained the idea that human meat was special and privileged, thus preventing a) uploading and b) nonhumans with human-level intelligence from being recognized as moral agents.