Journalist Tom visits Professor Witz, a legendary researcher in the field of artificial intelligence. He wants to talk about a project initiated by the professor in 2049 in the Łódź area, which has gotten somewhat out of control. The aim of the project was to “study the consequences of the spontaneous development of coexisting organic and inorganic intelligence systems, combined and assisted intelligence, and the transintelligence of biotechs and technobiotes, as well as accompanying non-systemic entities.” The idea was to protect the rights of intelligence regardless of its origin – without favoring or discrediting any form. Over time, however, intelligence “colloquially and pejoratively” referred to as artificial began to take control of other forms, and “fully human persons” found themselves in a distinct minority. Threatened with extinction, they hide in the ruins of a post-apocalyptic city. Tom, who gradually gains more and more knowledge about the development of the project, simultaneously loses his grasp of the situation. Who is who? Is the professor's demonic daughter, Mona, a flesh-and-blood human being, or did she die with her mother in a car accident as a full-blooded human being, and her consciousness now exists in a new, “borrowed” body? Does the professor's frail shell really only contain his own consciousness, or could it also be a prison for another, younger consciousness? Who is the intelligence equipped with all the attributes of existence, and who is merely a voice? Who is Tom himself?
Referring to the mythical ship of Theseus, in which rotten planks were replaced one by one, the author asks an abstract question that is no longer so abstract in the present day: “If we replace all the elements of a complex object with new ones, so that the entire object is replaced with a new one, does it remain the same object?” And what will remain for humans in a world dominated by AI?
In the afterword to Joanna Oparek's anthology of art, Loneliness is a Serial Killer, Karolina Felberg writes:
On the margins of her reflections on human pride – the desire for divine creations and interventions – Oparek breaks another cultural taboo. She prophesies a time when organic humans will become algorithms, and inorganic beings will take over the most important competence of the humanistic era – the ability to perform creative (aimless and selfless). What will remain for humans then? Suffering, suggests the writer. Superintelligence will not learn to suffer “sophisticatedly” anytime soon. "Its beauty is indifferent. That is why it needs us, feeds on people, greedily devours the leftovers," says Mona, the daughter of a brilliant inventor. In Łódź, dominated by inorganic beings, the ark of organic humans will therefore turn out to be exactly what they are defending themselves against – their inherent ability to experience loss and pain.