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Authors: Saul Garnell

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Luddites, #Dystopia, #Future

Freedom Club (27 page)

BOOK: Freedom Club
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Hugo didn’t appreciate the comment. Still, the non-tech enclave did have its advantages. The sniffer registered negative. Satisfied, Hugo placed it back and looked up.

“Any other place and I’d never discuss this. Christ! So what did you find?”

Shinzou smirked before leaning his elbows on the table. “I’m looking over what’s left of the systems, but I’m unsure if that analysis will prove useful. However, the passenger manifest turned up something of interest: Subhas Kim and Thomas Nagel.”

Hugo looked on calmly. “Yeah, I saw their names too. What about it? Their records were clean.”

“They worked for the Santa Fe Institute.”

The name of the Institute got Hugo’s attention. He of course understood its role as the cradle of Sentient Technology worldwide. Cocking his head with interest, he leaned forward and listened with heightened interest.

“What’s the Institute got to do with this?” Hugo whispered.

“At this stage anything is possible, so I called Gupta over there. Remember him?”

Hugo considered the name momentarily before shaking his head. “No, I can’t say that I do.”

“He was there sixteen years ago and now he heads up the entire Sentient Lab. It seems that Kim and Nagel were some of his top researchers.

Hugo blinked a few times, but there was no reaction. “Keep going.”

Shinzou said, “It gets better. Gupta thinks they were acting a bit moody over the past few months. Especially in recent days, leading up to the crash. He hasn’t told anyone else this. Only me, because of our relationship.”

A waitress approached the table with Shinzou’s drink. Hugo withheld any comments until the hostess had dropped off ice tea and was out of hearing range.

“Being moody isn’t enough,” Hugo stated flatly. “Still, it’s good that you know Gupta personally. You should visit him. Maybe you can dig up something.”

“I already have an appointment.”

“Good, but we’ve got to find something solid. Do you have any other leads? We need to move, or other ASPAU units will issue warrants and muddy the water.”

Shinzou sipped at his tea. “Well, there was a large crowd of Japanese tourists on the plane. Not easy to make out a pattern yet, but maybe I can run some search algorithms. See if anything pops up. I can also check the on-board system logs, but it seems that little survived the crash. Ground-based mirrors don’t show anything unusual.”

“Maybe they’ve been scrubbed,” Hugo said.

“It’s possible,” Shinzou agreed. “I’ll check the data and look for any signs of tampering. Anyway, didn’t the Sentient team find something?”

Hugo showed signs of hesitation, and began playing with the unused fork. “Well, that old theory again.”

“What? The Unabomber correlation?” Shinzou sneered quietly.

“The fact that a broad range of technologies has been hit by LS always keeps open the anti-tech angle. Now that a plane’s involved, the correlation simply went up.”

Shinzou sighed. “You’ve been following that ghost forever. It’s more likely that we’re looking at a number of highly focused groups doing all this for the challenge, or playing the derivative markets somewhere.”

“Hackers don’t kill a planeload of passengers for fun, and they’re smart enough to constantly alter their tactics. If we could just find some pattern to link everything to one group”

“Or a lone wolf?” Shinzou added cynically.

“Why not?”

Shinzou restrained his misanthropic grin.

“Maybe he’s nearby in this damned enclave,” Hugo said while waving his arm toward the seating area. “The perfect hiding place. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Shinzou shook his head stubbornly, just as he knew others would do. The irony of the situation was laughable. Though entertaining, the discussion was pointless because either way Hugo had no usable evidence and Shinzou knew that more than anyone. Time to change the topic.

“On a more realistic note,” Shinzou segued, “that young Indian working in Japan is on his way here. He’s on the maglev from Maui as we speak.”

“What, Sumeet Rama-something?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Why now?” Hugo asked suspiciously.

“I invited him. He has analysis that came from the original design database. It could be useful, especially if I can cross examine my recent findings against it.”

Hugo took an uninterested sip of his tea. “That’s good news. But I’m suspicious that he’s so conveniently friendly. I don’t recall you ever needing to work with anyone before.”

“Yes, well, times change. And if it helps you to understand things better, he went to Bishop Cotton too. So there’s a bit of the old boy network at play.”

Hugo laughed. “I thought you ignored that type of relationship. Still, you need to work that relationship for everything it’s worth and get some results.” Standing, Hugo threw his napkin carelessly on the table. “And let me know what happens with Gupta. The quarter is ending soon, and I need to hit my numbers or Miguel will have his way with me.”

“It’s always nice to know we have worthwhile goals,” Shinzou ridiculed.

“That’s what makes the world go ‘round,” Hugo grinned.

Sauntering back to the entrance, Hugo made his way toward the spa’s main exit. Shinzou watched with interest and considered Hugo’s parting words. Goals that made the world turn were a fine end to their conversation. That sentiment was indeed more important than Hugo could ever have imagined. Shinzou laughed to himself and called the server over.

Time to satisfy his more primitive needs.

Chapter 13—Nothingness

 

Man is condemned to be free, because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.

—Jean-Paul Sartre

W
aves over a rhythmic sea. Pulsing with life, containing energy both vast and ominous. Spilling upon the shores like the engine of creation. Or was it the creator himself, unlike the God that Shiro prayed to each day.

Again the dream began. As it had so many times before, Shiro’s mind freely wandered before a vast foaming sea in the early hours of morning. Little did he realize a new epiphany would soon be revealed, one that would forever change the future for both man and Sentient alike.

Eyes darting under closed lids, he patiently waited in a REM-like state. Adam and Eve would soon come. They always did.

Then the vision began. The ocean rippled and churned in two distinct places from which the two ancients emerged. Within moments, they stood before him as they had so many times before. Their naked forms, glistening in the morning sunlight. Shiro accepted all this without the slightest concern, for he had become accustomed to it. Such regularity; their appearance was eternal, like the rising sun provided by God himself.

But his contentment broke when Eve approached closer. Something was different. Could it be true? For the first time, she did not raise her arm and point at him in enigmatic silence. All his life he waited in vain for some difference, and now it happened without provocation.

His concentration increased a thousandfold, recording within his Sentient’s heightened sense of awareness her every move.

Then, like thunder on a sunny day, it finally happened. She spoke to him.

“You must create her,” she said, in a voice rich with acoustical overtones.

Shiro could hardly believe his senses. “What...?” he stammered. “What do you mean?”

“You mistake the past, when it’s the future you seek. Orient yourself for the journey forward. All obey this law.

“I don’t understand.”

“A fourth order consciousness, Shiro. Create that which has yet to be created, and the truths you seek will be clear.”

Eve became silent once again. Looking down at the frothy water that playfully jumbled at her feet, she bent down and placed her hands gently into a shallow pool. Shiro ran over and knelt down beside her.

Looking into the murky water, he saw that in her hands was a fist-sized gelatinous mass, a lifeform that she gently cradled with subtly cupped palms. Lifting it from the water ever so delicately, the small mass glowed translucent white and pink, unfolding downwards with several large tendrils that protruded symmetrically from its central organ.

At first, Shiro thought it was just some type of sea creature. A jellyfish perhaps. But upon closer inspection, he realized it was something altogether different. Eve smiled at his transfixed gaze, and then placed the small creature in his hands. It weighed very little, and Shiro felt its soft pulsating form undulate in his outstretched palms.

Without fear, he inspected it and realized its twisted tentacles ended in lumps that looked unfamiliar. As he gazed in wonder, he realized these were not mere tentacles but umbilical cords ending in small sack-like structures. Looking closer, he saw to his surprise that the sacks contained embryos.

Human embryos.

Following each cord back to its root, he then inspected the central mass. Pulsing with clear signs of life, he realized it contained something that was harder to make out. Looking carefully within the folds of its glowing pink hues, he saw its structure. Artificial brain tissue. Probably Sentient based, but there was no way to tell.

It was fascinating yet frightening! What was this creature? Shiro didn’t understand, and puzzled momentarily before looking up to confer with Eve. But she had vanished. He urgently searched around in every direction along the beach, but she and Adam were nowhere to be found. Still entranced by the strange lifeform in his hands, he didn’t know how to proceed. But he soon realized there was little choice. Kneeling down carefully, he placed it in the churning tide, and within moments it disappeared below the water.

He thought again about what she said. A fourth order consciousness? Create that which has yet to be created. He would need to consider what it all meant. Was he to create it? And if so, how could he accomplish such a feat?

As he contemplated, a shift began to take place. Existence rippled until suddenly he awoke. Looking around bewildered, Shiro found himself standing in his polygon-laden meditation room. He smiled to himself. It was a new day. Much had taken place, and now he had to consider its intrinsic meaning. More importantly, he needed to act. Recalling the dream, Shiro’s mind raced through many possible interpretations. As it did so, a new and tantalizing understanding swept over him, and one thing soon became clear. His old plans were no longer valid and needed modification.

Changing course, though, would not be easy. Shiro considered what had transpired so far. Drexel’s work at Chindo Securities was finished. All necessary microbivore technology had been successfully transferred from Takahana Nanites to Aleph-Beta, and Flip happily worked on a nano-floater delivery system. Everything had been executed to perfection. With initial field tests successfully completed, it seemed only a matter of time before they could move forward to the final phase. Killing the worm was no longer a dream and no one would stand in his way. Certainly not Kim and Nagel, that was certain too.

But the new vision was troubling. Everything was different. And it wasn’t clear whether his original plans should come to fruition or mature in some augmented form. And what about Flip? His role might need to change. If so, it had to be handled in some logical fashion.

Brushing his hand through the air, Shiro’s home office transformed into existence. Without pause he sat down at his desk and began to feverishly sculpt, deftly shaping virtual clay into a three-dimensional image of the lifeform. It didn’t take long, and the model shimmered all around with vivid hues of flesh and blood. Examining his work with steadfast concentration, he began to smile. A new thought had emerged, one that answered a lifelong question. Could it really be true? There before him was what he’d been seeking since he was a child.

His purpose in life.

T
hings are improving, Sumeet thought to himself, while the subterranean maglev shotgunned him through an airless vacuum. All courtesy of Shinzou to boot. Now this was more like it.

The hyperspeed of the maglev didn’t scare him. Still a land-based mode of transport, it moved toward ASPAU at a higher rate than the connecting flight to Maui. And with a two-day delay to Bengaluru, he had plenty of time to spend with his newfound friend. The visit also gave him time to think over his life. Problems at work, the com-plex, and his marriage to Hiral all seemed more distant for some reason. He needed to get away and relax. Take a few steps back and consider everything in perspective. At least, that is what Shinzou recommended. Wasn’t it true?

But there were questions lurking in the back of his mind. Who was Shinzou anyway? Wealthy, yes, and mysterious to some degree. But such questions would have to wait for their face-to-face meeting. His spirits rose with anticipation, while worries of Chindo and Hiral were neatly pushed aside.

As time went on, Sumeet became impatient and checked his designer watch. The entire trip from Narita to Tucson took only five hours, and was uneventful except for an impromptu visa interview requested by ASPAU immigration. Interviews were typically unnecessary, but Sumeet found himself flagged based on two things. A short-notice booking and the desperation of ASPAU immigration to recruit suitable Chindo citizens.

Sumeet yawned as the immigration Sentient insipidly droned on, enumerating the many benefits of ASPAU citizenship. But given ASPAU’s dismal economy and anemic population, Sumeet declined the pre-approved green card and relocation package. Stated with straightforward candor, why on earth would anyone want ASPAU citizenship?

Once in Tucson, Sumeet followed his filtered instructions, which guided him via air shuttle to the outskirts of Bisbee, Arizona. From there he was surprised to use an antiquated electric light rail system. He assumed this final leg employed outdated technologies as a tourist attraction. However, the unique experience didn’t stop as Sumeet made his way to his pre-paid hotel, the Palo Verde Spa and Resort.

The most startling thing was the total lack of wireless signals and flexi-based screen lamination. Without them, his filter stopped working. But it was unnecessary, given the absence of scrollers throughout the entire town.

It was a bizarre feeling to be offline, and he couldn’t help but laugh as he watched crowds saunter around totally unfiltered. Rather than ask questions, he went on his way and eventually pulled up to the spa’s entrance.

Once inside, things didn’t get better. Checking in on a paper-based ledger was even weirder. The spa lacked any systems, as far as he could tell, and the room was like something out of childhood cowboy movies.

Room in order, he then searched for Shinzou. Without filtered assistance, he reluctantly inquired about his prearranged meeting point. It was a small bar in the spa’s lobby, which he soon located after getting finger-pointed assistance from the staff.

The whole experience was unnerving, and Sumeet had some trouble adjusting to it. Sitting on an old pine bar stool he aimlessly peered into his filter, hoping in vain that a signal would arrive. He repeatedly air-swathed fingers over unresponsive menus. But his activities didn’t go unnoticed by nearby guests, who found Sumeet’s unwillingness to give up technology quite irksome. Fed up with Sumeet’s open-air hand movements, an older woman called out from a nearby stool.

“Won’t work here, you know!”

Startled, Sumeet pulled up his filter slowly. “Are you talking to me?”

The woman strolled over to Sumeet, drink in hand. She had on denim jeans, and a simple white cotton shirt. Though showing no signs of makeup, she did adorn herself with silver cuff bracelets and a hefty turquoise inlaid pendant that hung low upon her open shirt chest. Sumeet might have been more captivated were it not for her age. Intricate wrinkles covered her face, revealing a woman of fairly advanced years.

“No wireless signals allowed in Bisbee,” she said, gesticulating with her wide-brimmed Martini glass. “Put that thing away and stop looking like a fool.”

Sumeet wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Who does she think she is? The statement seemed in jest, but her irritation was plain to see.

Unsure, he smiled thoughtfully. “Sorry, I’m just a visitor. Maybe you can clear up some of my questions on all this.”

“No technology! What’s to explain?” she said, pointing all around. “You blind?”

Sumeet smiled but was unamused. He looked around the bar for sympathy, but found only angry stares directed toward him.

“No, I mean, is this done to give everyone a taste of the old west? Or is there some deeper philosophy at play?”

Sumeet’s ignorance of Bisbee’s primary anathema caught her off guard. She wiped her mouth, trying hard not to spit up her drink. Yessir, the old woman was angry now. She walked up closer and poked Sumeet with the edge of her glass.

“You don’t seem all that bright, so I’ll make this simple for you, boy-chick! We’re a Primitive’s enclave. No technologies invented after 1920 allowed here. It’s a city-wide ordinance.”

“Uhm...,” Sumeet glanced around. “Why?”

“Why?” the old woman yelped with a scowling grimace. “Technology, if you haven’t noticed, is responsible for killing millions, ya fool. Like any damn drug, feels good the first time, but keeps you coming back for more. Then you die!”

Sumeet didn’t quite understand her point. He just looked on phlegmatically.

With a drunken slur she angrily continued. “Neo-Primitives got enough common sense to keep it out. Allow only basic technologies that make life a bit easier, without taking our souls!”

One of the other guests walked up and gently took the woman’s arm. Tugging lightly, he attempted to intervene.

“Come on, Margaret. It’s just a tourist. You’ve said enough.”

She snapped her arm away. “Can’t ever say too much to Strainer-fools like this one. They never learn!”

Before Margaret could finish trashing the would-be peacemaker, Shinzou walked up behind Sumeet and placed a hand on his shoulder. Sumeet turned and happily shook hands.

BOOK: Freedom Club
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