From the author
My ideas about the future are by no means utopian, but I don't like to seem like a pessimist in the eyes of others at all. I don't expect positive feedback, but I still hope that my story will make you think at least for a second - "what happens if ...".
Do we even have the moral right to talk about the "bad" and "good" future? Even the year 2100, such a distant 22nd century, will soon become someone's, even if not ours, reality, routine. The future is what we create with our own hands right now, because, as Jacques Fresco once said: "The future is never accidental - it is created."
Is it so difficult to predict what awaits the next generations? It may not be easy, but it is quite possible. Assumptions, theories, hypotheses and dreams - not all of this will come true, but something will become possible. Remember the same great writer Jules Verne, who believed that a person does not need magic at all to create submarines, aircraft, scuba gear, even to conquer space - an outstanding intellect and a drop of interest will be quite enough.
But, you know, it's much harder to predict what kind of people we will be. What will become of our consciousness, will we improve the social system or, on the contrary, destroy it to the ground, will we succumb to integration with other countries or isolate ourselves, will we preserve the purity of reason? There are so many ambiguities and questions that only time will answer - such fragile, but at the same time powerful matter.
Did I have any ideas for an essay/story on this topic earlier? The answer is simple - of course there were, but for some reason right now is the time for me to implement these ideas. I graduated from high school, I have a medal and two red certificates on my hands, and what will happen next and was it all I needed? Try to find the answers here!
With my story, I want to show that the future is not a surprise at all, but a series of patterns in which a person still retains his essence and perfectly plays the assigned role.
The future is an interesting and elusive thing, but now is the time to catch him by the tail. Enjoy reading.
***
- Sofia!
An unbearably nasty female voice beeped furiously in my head. I'm sure my name wasn't supposed to sound like that, but it was pounding like hell in my temples. My eyes were tightly closed and something told me that it was not worth opening them at all.
-Sofia Akhlis, the number assigned by the system is 142.
I jerked violently and twisted my mouth in pain. I hate that last name. The foster family, disappointed in their choice, instead of throwing me out on the street, sent me to this place. It would be better to go straight into a dark alley. When I opened my eyes, I saw only a gray blurry spot in front of me.
- I have no parents, which means there is no need to call this surname out loud, - my voice broke through every word and sounded so weak that I barely recognized it myself.
- Even the name is taken away from orphans here, do you want to be just number 142? A nasal voice sounded overhead. In her youth, this lady could boast of a bright soprano, but now there is nothing left of the former lightness. I knew who was talking to me - Mrs. Bansha is the most severe and ruthless woman in this whole God-forsaken place, a teacher, and, if you like, our "nanny", as well as a teacher of rhetoric (this fact constantly causes me an attack of hysterical laughter). Both in mood and weight, she reminded me of a rain cloud (if you know what I mean), which is about to burst into rain and hit me right on the head with lightning.
For the last few months, I've really been dreaming of someone hitting me on the back of the head, and it's better - with good such consequences. Monotonous gray everyday life was crossed out by this one day, because now before my eyes is not the ceiling of the room, which I do not even dare to call my room, which means that something new is waiting for me, the most malicious mediocrity of this place.
- What have you done to me? I ask in the most carefree voice possible, but he breaks down treacherously again. My body feels incredibly weak, and my chest squeezes like a vice. Of course, nothing good was expected.
In response, silence. I rolled off the bed, but, unable to stay on my feet, I fell to the floor with a crash. A grin. I clenched my teeth and stood up, trembling all over. Drugs? It doesn't look like the mind is clear. A powerful sedative? Poison? It's all wrong...
- We have increased your chances of survival, - Mrs. Bansha's skin glistened with sweat, a shirt three sizes smaller tightly hugged an immense carcass. It's a disgusting sight. A once beautiful lady from a wealthy family has turned into a vile likeness more of a pig than a person. She travels everywhere in a wheelchair that looks like a wheelchair, but in fact it's just a new type of transport for the particularly lazy, which is now sold in all shops and centers equipped for this. This miracle stroller can turn on the TV, pour you a drink, cook food, is adjustable in height, width and can be upgraded as many times as necessary, depending on the owner's requests.
- "Magic injection"? I asked gloomily. The answer was not needed because everything had become too obvious.
The "magic injection" is the only ticket to at least some future for those very scum who were accidentally locked up in a special boarding school of Saint Artelai. Isn't it ridiculous to build a boarding school and name it after a saint in a city where there is nothing left of religious people and religion as such? So I laughed myself to death from such news.
Are the oddities in my story about this place over? Not at all. The director is a psychopath with megalomania and a God complex, in which he has long lost faith. He is an "achiever" man, devoid of moral principles. A person who, without a twinge of conscience, will stick a syringe with a chip into a child's head with his own hands if he is at an unacceptable level far from his ideals.
What kind of ideals does he pursue? For all his atheism, this man deeply believed in the omnipotence of an outstanding intellect. You are of no use until you are smart, practical and able or have the qualities of a leader. This world was swallowed up by science, technology, artificial intelligence and thirst for knowledge, education became so free that in the end it drove itself into the framework again. People are mired in the pursuit of the number of pieces of paper called a "diploma" or "certificate", and the most terrible thing was not to get your "printout with the skills" that you acquired during your studies. People now work not for knowledge, but for skills, but the veneration of intellectual geniuses has not gone away, and even on the contrary, society has elevated it to an absolute and turned it into a kind of cult. Skills are a mandatory criterion, you can't argue, but it's doubly wonderful if you have the same great mind that will lead humanity to the discovery of new horizons. This is due to the fact that the intellectual labor market has stagnated. People have produced an infinite number of developments over the past decades, so it has become increasingly difficult to surprise the public elite with something.
At this point, we will return to those syringes in the child's head. It sounds creepy, but this is the system of this school: either you show results, or you go for a "magic injection", which consists in introducing a chip into your body. It is subsequently synthesized with your brain and takes it to a new level. Artificial intelligence enhancement is what it is.
Scientists, without hesitation, say that in the future, trusting artificial intelligence, and not your own mind, is not such a bad decision, because the human brain is imperfect, and AI has long surpassed it. In fact, this happened a couple of decades ago, when humanity became convinced of Moore's Law, which states that computer performance doubles every two years. Thus, artificial intelligence is already able to make its own decisions and engage in creativity.
Because of this paradox, we are faced with a global problem: and is humanity as such necessary in such conditions? Correction. This problem took shape in my head, whether the consequences reached the minds of everyone else is difficult to say, but no one in the media has sounded the alarm yet. The public elite still naively claims that a person is able to restrain artificial intelligence, that it is only a tool and assistant in the hands of a person. Stupidly. How stupid it all is.
But in fairness, I will say that chipping (implantation) it has not yet gained such popularity, so what our esteemed director is doing is classified information. Director Collins implements his own system of upbringing and education, recruiting useless orphans or the dregs of society, in general, those who are not pitied and about whom no one will worry. Then he arranges for them hellish classes on an accelerated program, and after two months of such teaching, the "weak link" (to which I belong) is eliminated. As a result: all these unsuccessful children end up on the operating table under the care of Mrs. Bansha.
The scheme is insanely simple: strong and intellectually developed children will achieve heights by studying under such a program, and the "weak link", which will not bring benefits in itself, may well become a test rat in testing implantations to increase the level of intelligence. These chips are designed to store, reproduce, supplement and modernize data from completely different spheres, and then output them using neuron stimulation. People all over the world are afraid of being captured by artificial intelligence, while within the walls of this school it is quite a reasonable and tangible reality.
"Get out, 142," Mrs. Bansha barked.
"Sofia," I muttered back, glancing darkly at the woman, whose appearance was frightening and annoying at the same time.

I came out of the bright operating room (which, by the way, was crammed with computer blocks from top to bottom) on wobbly legs, breathing heavily and clutching convulsively at the nearest surfaces in order to somehow move forward. No pity, no questions. And only dead silence along the long shaded corridor with flickering LEDs. I would have shuddered from such a tense atmosphere, if not for the aching pain spreading throughout my body and especially strongly reverberating in the back of my head and temples.
On the way, I met two girls I knew, but not a drop of recognition flashed in their gaze that glanced at me. They passed by with stony faces. I still had a slight blurring in my eyes, my head was spinning and I think I started hallucinating.
At the moment when I got to the bed and threw myself face down on it, a weak female voice was already heard in my head: "30 factorial, the value is being loaded... 265252859812191058636308480000000."
I rolled over and covered my ears with a pillow. The voice continued: "Chlorine dissolves well in water, and is largely subject to dismutation. It is soluble in carbon tetrachloride, liquid SiCl4 and TiCl4. Poorly soluble in saturated sodium chloride solution. "
- Well, why do I need this information?! I shouted at the ceiling, angrily throwing the pillow into the farthest and dusty corner. - How does my head ache, what have you done to me?! Did you want geniuses? Implant a chip in your own head and suffer, garbage!
I wanted to fall asleep, but my eyes involuntarily opened and my gaze, wandering over the gray cracked ceiling, drew the outlines of physical formulas and geometric shapes, then a chess board appeared on which a bishop and a rook were circling in a mad dance. One dance loop, the second, the third...nauseous. I don't know how to play chess. I generally like maps more.
My brain rejected everything that was diligently put into it, which made my head hurt even more and that's why the noise and crackling in my ears grew. At some point, all I began to dream about was a "short circuit" of neurons. Let them stop, let me stop thinking.
I spent the night without sleep. I crawled up to the bedside table, with shaking hands I typed the right amount of sedative pills into the palm of my hand and swallowed directly without water. I half-leaned out of the third-floor window, stared at the stars for a long time and moaned heart-rendingly when they were connected to the constellations by a line caused by a hallucination. I can say with confidence that when you know more than you can realize, it hits the body hard. That night I was slowly dying.
Death would have been the easiest outcome, so no, the next morning I was horrified to find that the temperature and pressure had returned to normal. I managed to get used to the headache and now it didn't cause so much inconvenience. I looked in the mirror: a terribly emaciated pale face strewn with freckles, bruises under the eyes, a shock of red hair falling in ridiculous waves over thin shoulders. I breathed a sigh of relief: bright blue eyes sparkled like sapphires in the morning rays, the look did not fade. And those eyes were all that gave me away as a person. I can still think. I'm alive.
***
The pleasant baritone of the director resounded in the ears of each of us. He gently and insinuatingly read out the student performance ratings for this year. "1st place - Marta Eden, 2nd place - Louis Salvadore, 3rd place - Sofia Ahles..."
I leaned wearily against the snow-white wall in the empty hall of the right wing. 3rd place... And that's all I got after so many months of excruciating pain? I didn't sleep at night, I couldn't eat, I drank a triple dose of painkillers and studied for days on end. I fainted 6 times. And there are still children in the first two places who haven't even been chipped? Although, which of us is even worse... One thing I know for sure: artificial intelligence has significantly screwed up. I closed my eyes, my imagination again threw up the familiar image: I was standing at the mirror in my room and looking into my own eyes. And so every day, to make sure that my own mind has not left me yet. I see the shadow of a man. He lulls me to sleep and asks me to relax, to surrender to blind pain. He promises emptiness and peace. I know I'll be lost if I agree. Artificial intelligence is much stronger and more sophisticated than the human brain. He knows what to put pressure on, although his emotional side is nothing more than a mirage, since it contains only programs. You shouldn't have let him into your head.
- My name is Sofia. I love coffee with cream, I hate losing, I'm delighted with the aesthetic photos and the sound of rain," I whispered, like a prayer. - I want to travel and make friends. I don't like physics, chemistry and mathematics. I like to paint.
Artificial intelligence takes away not only the old "imperfect" brain, but also the individuality that you have brought up in yourself. A month after the operation, I discovered serious memory lapses. The first time I forgot why and when the photo was taken from the frame on the table, then I threw out the figures of the characters during cleaning. I stopped crying over my favorite movie because I forgot the emotions it can cause. I became disgusted with my own passive emotionlessness. I was very tired of the daily "data updates" in my head, which were always accompanied by a mania for self-development, abruptly changing to deep apathy. My personality was rapidly decaying. So I came up with a memorization game, the essence of which is to list the facts known about myself. As long as I know who I am, I can resist the impostor inside me.
I felt that my brain was already absorbed, that the chip had long been a part of my body. I also realized that I was the only one trying to keep my sanity, because I was surrounded by silent robots, not teenagers. The last time I saw someone smile was about three months ago, and then this person was forced to work out math problems for 4 hours without a break.
The director was pleased with himself. We, the students of the boarding school, made incredible progress in the field of science and were smart beyond our years. I personally attended four scientific conferences on the recommendation of the director. But we weren't the ideal of outstanding intelligence, we were just programmed that way. Do I consider myself smart? Not at all. This brain is already different, so leave at least "me".
I thought the best way to preserve my identity was to live for a purpose. So I had a little dream, which I carefully kept in the last remnants of pure reason - to see the sea. An orphan like me, without a family and tribe, will never just visit such a place. I had a plan, according to which I agreed with the charter of the school and did everything that the director ordered, without giving any sign that I had not yet turned into a soulless intellectual robot.
I pulled away from the wall and went into my room, closing the door tightly. Recently, cameras have been installed in all rooms to monitor pupils in absolutely everything. My cameras were successfully hacked by me: what did you expect from one of the best students of a boarding school? These were extreme measures. There are too many things in my room that it is better for the director not to see, for example, figurines of heroes of Chinese short stories or fiction of the 21st century. Thanks to such little things, it was as if I was getting to know the world and myself again, while simultaneously trying to instill a love for things that she had been to before.
Under the bed, in a sealed and unsightly box, I kept jewelry for the room, made with my own hands. When everything is beautiful around you, you begin to feel inner satisfaction. Well, just to feel something.
I spun around the room in a kind of waltz, step by step, with my eyelids closed from the silent semblance of happiness. My legs carried me forward, turning circles. I strained all the crumbs of my imagination to imagine a ballroom with beautiful ladies in wide dresses richly embroidered with gold patterns, and gentlemen who discreetly put their hands behind their backs and look around expectantly in search of the one.
Now you will not find this anywhere, even themed parties are not arranged with such outfits. The world is practical and far from dreamy romance. The world is full of "smart" and absolutely boring, useless people.
Abruptly my legs gave way, my temples throbbed with renewed vigor, my hands shook, I collapsed to the floor like a helpless child, sprawled on the floor like a "star". "Haha, well, so far it's not bad," I mentally grinned.
***
He kicked him impetuously and angrily, as if he wanted to take the guy's life. The student was lying, absurdly covering his head with his hands, and his blood was sprinkled with terrible blots on the crystal-clear, just washed by robots, white floor. There were about fifty people in the hall, but there was no hum, only the sounds of blows and the muffled grunting of the teacher echoed hollowly throughout the room. The guy did not cry, did not even sob, because tears could not physically appear on this young boy's face. He didn't even beg, just silently took every cruel blow. And only the rounded, but empty, eyes betrayed a certain confusion in him, although he knew what he was being punished for, and therefore could not say a word in his own defense. Mr. Walker, with a face distorted with anger, with a completely inhuman expression, hovered over a thin body and silently drove a small tablet through the air. The results of the last tests, I realized.
I was amazed at the indifference that reigned in the hall. There were a lot of people there, but none came forward to help. Even if we assume that the majority is afraid of the educator, there is still a chance to find daredevils. But no, it's not even that: not even a drop of pity could be read on their faces. I went up to one girl and put my hand on her shoulder. She turned around smoothly and bored:
- Do you need something?
- Can't you see that he needs help? I almost shouted in her face.
"He's useless, it's better to eliminate him as soon as possible," the girl's face was stony, frighteningly distant and cold. Not a muscle twitched when she gave the answer.

I didn't understand what happened, but the next moment I ran out of the crowd and rushed at the teacher, kicking him hard in the knee and holding his hand, which tried to pull my hair. I put my whole body on top of Walker, pressing my head into his stomach. I fought furiously, at the limit of my abilities, like an animal trapped by hunters. It was as if I was fighting not even for him, but for myself, for all those sleepless nights, for pain, for moral exhaustion, for a ruined life that no one gave a chance to.
- Did you, insensitive machines, expect to see such a future? I shouted in a broken voice. - Do you like to lose the last human thing left? What kind of logic are you talking about when a person is in pain next to you? Shameless twa... - my voice rang out in a continuous noise along the corridor and died down at the moment when the teacher roughly clamped his huge rough hand over my mouth.
Why haven't your faces changed? Why don't you understand?
One person cannot change anything, his quiet cry will be drowned in a million unclear voices. But how hard is it to ask the question: has nothing changed? Or no, it's not. Haven't we changed anything yet?
***
I was kicked out quietly, without a scandal. No one advertised that a chip was implanted in my brain, because then I would have to explain to the state where one small school in the province had such a number of subjects. The director signed a contract with me: I provide support in scientific activities, and they pay me for it, giving me freedom of action.
It's funny how low people can fall when something is beneficial to them. I was the director's thing, a weak-willed plant that he had grown with his own hands. He wouldn't have been able to give me up, but he also knew that I would sow confusion among the children by staying in the school. I spat out a lot of dirty, accusatory words in his face, to which he did not even react, only his fists clenched a little. This proud, aggressive and insane man simply kept silent. "Progress is moving forward, but it would be nice for a person to keep up," I finally threw him. It was disgusting in my heart, but I knew that I was fighting for myself and my future in this beautiful and at the same time vile world of technology and development.
I left. Very, very far away, to the sea.
The sound of the waves was not as soothing as the writers of my books spoke about it. He seemed tense, restless and restrained to me. He's been just like me for the last few years. But oh, this sky, how bright it was! I swear, at that moment, the whole world was reflected in my eyes. Everything has become so meaningless and simple. I closed my eyelids. I couldn't smile, but everything inside me was singing.
Head. And again the pain.
The sand was cold and unpleasant to the touch, grains of sand clogged in the eyes, driven by a strong wind. After all, artificial intelligence cannot get along with human, and human souls cannot get along with insensitive iron. The short circuit that I dreamed about every night, writhing on the floor from suffocating pain, has come. The moment when my body couldn't stand another data reboot.
His face was wet from large salty tears filled with longing. I didn't know how to calm myself, I didn't know how to react to tears, especially my own. One thing I knew for sure - I was happy to learn how to cry, because this is proof that I am human. My eyes finally cleared, the veil of despair fell off. I saw the world as it was then, a few years ago. A gasp, and then silence. My mind was clear and at that moment it shone brighter than any star from this endless firmament.
Afterword
Maybe this essay does not deserve to be called a story. Maybe everything described here is simply impossible. However, I am deeply convinced that a person is able to reach the moment when he considers it necessary to use implants to increase the level of intelligence. Question: Will this lead to good consequences?
I described the future, in which there will already be a modified education system, and it will set the orientation for such operations. Do I consider artificial intelligence enhancement a necessity? Definitely not. I can assume that the improvement of artificial intelligence and technology in general will give more opportunities for the development of society, but they cannot replace the person himself. Sometimes we just don't realize our value and uniqueness.
According to the latest data, it is assumed that artificial intelligence will work for a person, significantly expanding his mental abilities and opportunities for self-realization. But no one says that artificial intelligence itself is perfect in the last instance and can only exist separately, otherwise there is no possible outcome in which it would not affect the human mind. To say that AI is a human creation, which means that it will definitely remain "in check" is extremely short-sighted, because all ingenious discoveries can get out of control simply by the fact of their existence.
The experience of the main character of my story illustrates my point of view: maybe for a while human and artificial intelligences will be able to live in one body, but in the end one will still absorb the other. The girl suffered not only from physical pain, but also from the fact that she could not identify herself in this society, and this is the need of every person. We remain ourselves as long as we remember who we are, and as long as there is a way to show ourselves to the world.
Thus, I believe that the development of artificial intelligence is not a groundless necessity, but an attempt to synthesize it with the human mind will be a fatal mistake, which is likely to cost people dearly, leading at best to a split of society, and at worst to its destruction. A person has value in itself, and then what good will it be from those who will no longer be a person?
A person remains outside the zone of understanding and outside of fully realized rules. We can create qualitatively new technologies, we can easily create something that can destroy us in the blink of an eye, but we cannot stay in place ourselves or completely forget about our mission. So far, man is the only being on Earth who is able to change something or experience something by extracting experience.
We ourselves must become the changes that we want to see in the world.

List of sources:
1. Lanier’s Singularity, H+ Magazine
2. Ray Kurzweil. The Singularity Is Near: When Humans Transcend Biology - 2006.
3. O.V. Rodionov, N.V. Tamp. Artificial intelligence technologies in education//Theory and methodology of vocational education.2022.
4. Chulyukov V.A., Dubov V.M. Artificial intelligence and the future of education // Modern pedagogical education. 2020. No. 3. pp. 27-31.