Neurotopia
Page 1
About Neurotopia
Your mind is not your own.
The government can read your thoughts. Improve them too. War, poverty, and crime are history. If you don’t like it, you can always try your luck on that orbiting stateless superpower known as Apollo (formerly The Moon).
When Earth’s neuronet is hacked with a suicide virus, a reclusive thought-scanner, Sky Marion, finds her mother slitting her own wrists. Her mom is not alone – over a million Earth citizens are infected.
Who is to blame? The usual suspects – synthetic telepath hackers hiding on Apollo.
With no known remedy on Earth and less than a week before the virus shuts down victims’ brains, phobia-ridden Sky must risk her life and sanity to infiltrate the lawless lunar colonies if she is to find a cure.
But in doing so, Sky will find herself in the middle of a hidden war, fought for ultimate control over our minds.
About Tony Mohorovich
Tony Mohorovich is the author of a solitary SciFi novel, Neurotopia: Geppetto’s Chains, but he has a thousand others in his head, which he will eventually write when scientists work out how to extend human life indefinitely, or create multiple AI copies of the human brain… or cure procrastination. Until then, Tony will continue to assert that he focuses on quality rather than quantity.
A recovering lawyer and desk-jockey, Tony has attempted to ignore the urge to write about made-up things on numerous occasions. He remains hopeful for a pharmaceutical cure.
Tony lives in Melbourne, Australia, and is tolerated by his wife and children.
First published by Tony Mohorovich in 2018
This edition published in 2018 by Tony Mohorovich
Copyright © Tony Mohorovich 2018
www.tonymohorovich.com
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.
Neurotopia
POD: 9781925579833
EPUB: 9781925579819
Cover design by Red Tally Studios
Rebecca Saxe and Atsushi Takahashi / Department of Brain and Cognitive Sciences, MIT / Athinoula A. Martinos Imaging Center at the McGovern Institute for Brain Research, MIT
Publishing services provided by Critical Mass
www.critmassconsulting.com
Contents
About Neurotopia
Dedication
PART I:Tellinii
Chapter 1:Warning
Chapter 2:Bellringer
Chapter 3:Infected
Chapter 4:Cure
Chapter 5:Loan
PART II:Apollo
Chapter 6:Baggage
Chapter 7:Nostalgica
Chapter 8:Dante
Chapter 9:Over
PART III:Geppetto
Chapter 10:Under
Chapter 11:Buried
Chapter 12:Unearthed
Chapter 13:Mined
PART IV:Neuro
Chapter 14:Wiper
Chapter 15:Tinfoiled
Chapter 16:Separation
Chapter 17:Parasite
Chapter 18:Symbiot
Chapter 19:Fallout
Chapter 20:Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About Tony Mohorovich
Copyright
Dedication
For Jasmine, Kasia, and Laeto. I would bring you the Moon if I could… but that would probably cause an Extinction Level Event, wiping out almost all life on Earth, thus defeating the purpose of a heartfelt gesture of love.
NEUROTOPIA
Geppetto’s Chains
by Tony Mohorovich
Mother and babe: Rebecca Saxe and two-month old son Percy
(Rebecca Saxe and Atsushi Takahashi / Department of Brain and Cognitive Sciences, MIT / Athinoula A. Martinos Imaging Center at the McGovern Institute for Brain Research, MIT, 2015)
PART I
Tellinii
Chapter 1
Warning
This is an EMERGENCY brain-to-brain connection request from an unknown source… SKY MARION.
Transmission includes attachment of memories from primary source (SKY MARION), and memories acquired from secondary and tertiary sources of UNKNOWN origin.
Current number of humans connected to SKY MARION: 6,456 and counting.
WARNING: Connecting to an untrusted source may void your security and health insurances and result in neurovirus infection.
Do you wish to proceed (not recommended)?
…
You have chosen to proceed with connection request of SKY MARION.
Scanning transmission for known viruses…
Establishing connection…
Downloading memory attachments…
Do you wish to express-recall memories?
Please be patient while express-recall is initiated.
Chapter 2
Bellringer
It was unclear to Private Ximena Waterswhether the old Bellringer controlled his exoskeleton or whether the machine controlled him—or what was left of him. His withered body hung from the metal frame like a scarecrow.
Whirrr-tap.
Ximena had assumed the tales of the Bellringer were a joke, something the veterans at Detroit HQ reserved for naïve recruits. She could see what had inspired his nickname, Bellringer; the exaggerated convex curve of the spine that forced his head forward, as if he were searching for something on the ground. Like Quasimodo in The Bellringer of Notre Dame (or The Hunchback of Notre Dame, as it was known in Ximena’s childhood, a less respectful time). The Bellringer’s slouch was a condition that had been eradicated long ago, or so Ximena had assumed.
Whirrr-tap.
‘Does it always make that noise?’ Ximena said out of the corner of her mouth to a colleague on her right.
The response came in the form of a whisper, ‘Cheap lunar titanium.’
Hurried footsteps heralded the arrival of Captain Rion, and the guards parted for her as she approached the Bellringer. ‘Sir, this is unexpected,’ the captain said. ‘I was not notified of your arrival. Where is your escort?’
The Bellringer remained impassive. He pulled something out from behind his frame. It was the head of an android, wires hanging loose from its neck. ‘I decided it was time for some human company.’
Captain Rion’s hands moved to her hips and she appeared to grow a few centimeters. The others did the same.
Private Ximena Waters felt the beating of her heart in her throat. She had arrived at the lab at two am for her first shift and was issued with an electrobolter handgun. They told her it was primarily ceremonial and she would likely never use it in her entire career. Now, barely an hour into her shift, her fingers came to rest on her bulging holster.
Captain Rion spoke again, louder, with command. ‘Sir, you are acting contrary to Federator decree number 5281-A(ii). You need to return to the labs for your own protection, in the interests of global security.’
Whirr-tap.
‘Sir—’
‘Elementary school,’ the Bellringer croaked. ‘You have a child there, yes? I believe his name is Marlon?’
The captain froze.
‘And Shanika? At home with the nanny? A partner too, but it’s the children at the forefront of your mind. My preference is that they get to see their mother at the end of the day.’
The captain was silent.
‘Do yourself and your family a favor, Captain Rion; move aside.’
Whirrr-tap.
<
br /> Private Waters wondered if anyone would notice her taking a step back, to let the experts handle this. She was, after all, only a recruit.
An alarm blared. Red-blue lights strobed the lobby.
The Bellringer’s misshapen back rose and fell as he took a breath. ‘I see.’
It was at that moment that Ximena felt a tingling in her skull, a warm dizziness. It was a pleasant sensation, and as it continued she felt as if kindly tentacles were lifting her out of her body, freeing her from the responsibility of running it.
Ximena…
She heard the thought, but not in her own voice. It sounded more like the Bellringer’s. It cradled her in its arms.
Ximena’s hand unclipped her holster, pulled out the bolter, raised the weapon and fired. The shot tore through the back of Captain Rion’s neck.
Ximena’s colleagues jumped at the bang of the bolt and spun toward her. This made her feel somewhat self-conscious, and a part of her wondered how this would affect her prospects for advancement.
The next moment she found herself examining the floor at an unusual angle; horizontal, the wind knocked out of her and the side of her head thundering from a collision. Something told her she had been shot.
Electric fireworks exploded around her. Most of her colleagues fired at the Bellringer. Some fired at each other.
The Bellringer had disappeared behind a dark mass, a shield that shifted like a protective stingray—a swarm—which deflected the ordnance fired at him.
Soon enough the rest of the team were enjoying the same unique horizontal perspective as Ximena.
Whirrr-tap.
The dark mass retreated behind the Bellringer, a serpent returning to its den. He made his way across the bodies. Ximena lay as still as she could. Nevertheless, he stopped beside her. She could smell antiseptic.
The old man’s swarm climbed up his body, covering him from head to toe. It initiated its camouflage and he disappeared from sight.
As she struggled to keep her eyelids open, she glanced at the carpet of bodies, black and red, Captain Rion among them. Ximena’s thoughts turned to the captain’s children, Marlon and Shanika, who would not see their mom tonight, nor any night, ever again.
However, Ximena was comforted by the voice of a kindly old man: Sometimes children must lose their mothers.
Chapter 3
Infected
3:1
On the neuroscanners, millions of minds sound like thunder. At least they did to Sky Marion.
She spent the first few minutes sifting through that rumbling, honing in on the voices, searching for moments of honesty—the mind had too many places to hide, even from itself.
With a little effort, you could identify individual thoughts: I can’t believe he said that, thought one woman.
There’s so much work, thought another.
I’ve been feeling lethargic of late.
Why did he leave?
Thursday nights were Sky’s favorite. The work week always ended in shenanigans.
Sometimes, if the target was entertaining enough, she would follow their mind for the entire night. If they were particularly fascinating, she would tail them for another day or two. She preferred real people, not those sponsored celebrities who had to engage in increasingly more outrageous acts to maintain a following.
There was nothing like freescanning, when they had no idea you were there, when they were just being themselves.
I think I’ve drunk too much. It was a common thought in the pre-dawn hours of a Friday morning.
Are those military hoppers in the air? There sure are lots of them. That there were, skipping across Detroit’s skyline.
Probably another drill, Sky thought. Let’s find something a little juicier…
I wish HE would come over and say HELL-O. It was the mental voice of a young woman.
A bit better, that one, Sky mused. Let’s get a visual.
The woman had a button nose and a fashionable pixie haircut. She wore a lilac gown that sparkled in the night-lights. She stood in one of the many queues at the railpod bays, waiting for her ride home after a night of partying.
Hmm, she’s pretty, Sky thought. Who’s she thinking about? Ah, that well-coiffed fellow near the start of the rank, the one in the trench coat. Luscious dark-brown eyes. Glistening skin. Hell-o indeed. Let’s see what he’s thinking…
Where’s that railpod? Mr. Glistening thought. This city’s getting overcrowded. I need to get some sleep.
Sky noticed his stress levels rising. Ah, I see, he has a presentation to make to the board next week. Come on, Mr. Glistening, take a closer look at Ms. Button. She would love a hell-o. And it would give you a hit of much-needed endorphins.
His railpod slid into the station and he got in. Just as the railpod doors closed, Mr. Glistening spotted Ms. Button. She was looking away, pretending she hadn’t noticed him, or had something more interesting to occupy herself with.
As his railpod slipped away he thought, Why can’t I ever meet someone like her?
At times like these, Sky wished she could do more than just tap in and listen. Imagine the joy I could bring, she thought. What a downer. Time for a pick-me-up; let’s look for something a little more… intimate…
Sky initiated the search with a thought-order (or thorder, as they called it). While the scanners searched, she got up off her chair to stretch her legs. She walked around her windowless room, barely hearing her own footsteps as the floor’s silencing material did its work. No matter where she looked, the words “Searching neuroscanner database” hovered ahead of her like an obstinate apparition. Wanting a little more visual space, she thordered the maya-screen to decouple from her line of sight and to hover in place.
A minute later, the database was still searching.
‘What’s taking so long, Uncle Jesse?’
< Bandwidth is packed, ma’am, lots of traffic, > he replied in his outdated southern drawl.
‘I’ve never seen it this slow. Could it be a security drill? All those military hoppers in the air?’
< I’d shrug if I had shoulders. >
The scanner search concluded. Sky took a seat and thordered the hovering maya to her. The search results, images and voices, flickered across her line of sight. Sky found an item of interest; an affair, the old-fashioned sort.
Naughty, naughty. She loved the clawing neediness of those, the extra physical effort needed to compensate for the insecurity of the relationship.
She logged into the woman’s sensations first.
Sky’s room faded as she began to experience the world from the woman’s perspective. The first thing she saw was a topless man leaning in to kiss her. As the seconds passed, Sky lost awareness of her own body on the recliner and felt the softness of a bed beneath her and the weight of the illicit lover on top.
She revelled in the sensations for a time, then she linked with the man’s experience, feeding off his excitement. Back and forth she went between the two. They were well into their union because their sensations were already mirroring one another.
There was a knock at the door.
Had the lovers been discovered? They had not heard the knocking.
A voice said, ‘Sky?’
It sounded like her mother.
Sky had been so immersed in the virtual experience she had not seen the proximity note which indicated that “Winona Marion” was approaching. Sky withdrew her senses from the virtual link and returned her awareness to her barren office. The maya visuals of the lovers hovered a short distance away. If it were not for the glimmer around their bodies which indicated they were a maya, Sky would have sworn they were in the room with her.
‘Sky?’ Louder this time. Her mother’s voice came from the other side of the door.
Sky double-checked that the maya of the lovers was in private mode, then she thordered the door to unlock.
Artificial light streamed in. Once Sky’s eyes had adjusted, she saw her mother standing in the doorway, her black skin a
lighter bronze in the artificial light. Those full lips—which Sky wished she had inherited—were almost pouting.
‘Honey, not again. Do you ever sleep?’ she said, adjusting her nightgown.
‘It’s Thursday night, Ma. End of the week.’
‘It’s Friday morning, dear. It’s almost dawn.’
Sky’s eyes narrowed as if to say You know what I mean. ‘I stayed up Thursday night, Ma. I am an adult, you know, and I have been for some time.’
Her mother appeared unconvinced of something, possibly Sky’s adulthood.
The illicit couple’s feminine half was close to peaking, and Sky was missing out. The sounds of their union, combined with her mother’s voice, made for an uncomfortable juxtaposition. Sky thordered the maya to mute.
Her mother glanced around the room. With the footage of the lovers in private mode accessible only to Sky’s brain, her mother would only see Sky on the recliner in an otherwise empty office.
‘I don’t see any mayas. Are you working?’ her mother asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Official work or…’
‘Classified.’
Her mother stood there, silent, scanning the room. She seemed to be avoiding eye contact. Something was amiss.
‘Ma? Is everything okay?’
Her mother did not respond.
‘Ma?’
Her mother snapped out of her reverie. She smiled. ‘Just get some sleep, yeah?’ she said, then shuffled off.
Something’s up with Ma, Sky thought. She got up off the recliner and followed the woman out, but Winona had already closed her bedroom door behind her and switched off the light.
Sky stood there for a moment, contemplating whether to pursue the issue. It was still early. Her mother probably needed the sleep.