by John Akers
Reporting Officer Badge No: 1889
Date Assigned: 3/16/20xx
Reviewing Supervisor Name (Last, First): FITZGERALD, MARY
Case Status: OPEN
Chapter 20
Back inside, Cevis refilled their glasses. Then, with a mysterious smile, he said, “Follow me.”
He headed toward a doorway with stairs leading down, and Pax followed. He had never been down to Cevis’ basement before.
The lighting below was dim, and halfway down the stairs did a 180-degree turn. As Pax turned and looked around, he was shocked to see the entire floor was empty. The framing for two support walls that crossed in the middle was there, but the drywall hadn’t even been installed. Pax found he could see all the way to the exterior walls in any direction.
Cevis walked along where a hallway would have been, had there been walls, and headed toward one of the corners of the house. Pax saw there was a pool table in front of a large window overlooking the mountainside. It was the only object on the whole floor, other than a nearby rack of cue sticks. Light from a single pendant bulb overhead illuminated the table, and the balls were already set up for 8-ball.
In college, on the few occasions he had been able to coax Cevis out of the lab, pool had been their drinking game of choice. Cevis had hated all other pub games, but he had quickly developed a knack for pool and within a few outings was beating Pax regularly. It had annoyed Pax that Cevis would only play the one game at which he was able to beat Pax, but since it was the only way he could Cevis to go out once in a while, he’d accepted it.
They reached the table, and as Cevis selected a cue stick from a rack by the wall, Pax asked, “So did you run out of money or something?”
Cevis smiled but didn’t laugh. “Ran out of interest is more like it. When I first bought this property, I had the laboratory built first. That took a while due to the complexities involved in running animal experimentation—incineration, fumigation, that sort of thing. Then they built the house. This floor was originally intended to be an entertainment center, but after they finished the first floor, I got busier than usual with work and put the development of this room on hold. He looked around the empty space as if he were contemplating something and then said, “I just never got back to it.”
He bounced the rubber end of the cue handle on the floor absentmindedly. “About four months ago, I bought this table and had my cars drive the pieces up here—had to rent a trailer for the main table slate. Then Risi did the assembly. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”
Pax pulled out another cue stick from the rack and tested the feel of it in his hands. “You should’ve had her put in some drywall while she was down here,” he said.
Cevis chuckled and walked around to the break side of the table. A moment later a loud crack reverberated throughout the cavernous space around them. The balls scattered wildly, and two of them sank, one stripe and one solid. While he took his time lining up his second shot, Cevis resumed their conversation from the patio.
“Don’t get me wrong, Oreste,” he said. “I understand the temptation to share this discovery with the world. Just imagine what the greatest minds in history could have done if they’d only had more time, right? What might James Clerk Maxwell, inventor of the unified theory of electromagnetism, have accomplished if he hadn't died from abdominal cancer at the untimely age of 48?” He deftly clipped the two ball at a sharp angle. It ran the length of the table, hugging the bumper the entire way, before disappearing neatly into a corner pocket.
“But we must consider the downsides of this knowledge falling into the wrong hands. Think of the havoc and devastation powerful persons of ill-intent could wreak on the world if they had limitless time! Old age, or at least the fear of it, is the only thing that stopped some of the worst demagogues humanity has known.”
Cevis shook his head forcefully as he lined up his next shot. “No. What I’ve discovered is the most precious of all gifts that can be bestowed upon another human being. We must guard it zealously. We must be certain anyone else we include is deserving of it.”
Pax said nothing as he watched Cevis sink another solid. Then Cevis paused to look at Pax.
“What are you thinking?” Cevis asked.
“Honestly?”
Cevis sighed. “Of course.”
“I’m wondering whether one day our insides will spontaneously turn into some sort of protoplasmic jelly and we’ll die a horrible death from internal hemorrhaging.”
Cevis turned and sat against the table, then took a long, deliberate breath.
“Look, Oreste. There undoubtedly would be some minor issues unique to humans uncovered in longer-term trials. But I give you my personal assurance, nothing like what you described could happen. Uncovering each and every minor flaw would take decades. I can’t afford to wait that long. I’ve sacrificed my whole life to this work, and I intend to be the first beneficiary of it, along with you.” He dropped his head and studied the floor for a moment before looking at Pax again and continuing.
“You know, Oreste, even though I realize you haven’t been on the journey I’ve been on, I’m still incredibly disappointed in your reaction. I’m offering to share one of the most profound scientific discoveries ever made with you, and you’re acting like I’m some sort of used car salesman! You know my track record! Do you think I’d risk your life, or my life, on something I wasn’t supremely confident in? I thought you’d be thrilled and we’d get drunk and celebrate like old times, but all I’m getting from you is fear and suspicion.” He leaned over the table and promptly bounced an easy side pocket shot off the bumper.
“See what your miserable lack of enthusiasm is doing to me,” Cevis groused.
“Sorry, Cevis. I guess I’m just overwhelmed by what you’re telling me.” Pax took a sip from his drink and put his glass on the windowsill. Then loudly he said, “And I’m pissed you’ve one-upped me yet again!” He stalked around the table and with the barest pause to line up his shot, rammed the twelve ball into the same side pocket Cevis had just missed. “Not only did you one-up me, but you did so by an order of magnitude. It’s unbelievable!”
Cevis didn’t respond, but watched Pax closely as he angrily pounded another striped ball home. When Pax missed his next shot, Cevis said, “Oreste, I don’t see things that way. Although I’m enormously proud of my achievement, in the end it’s fundamentally an extension of the same kind of life. What you’ve done may lead to a radically different type of human experience.”
Cevis paused, and when he resumed his voice wavered a bit, “The truth is, although I’ve chastised you many times for not adhering to the same strict protocols I believe in using, many of the greatest scientific discoveries in history came completely out of left field, based on little more than a hunch, even purely by accident. Penicillin, plastics, X-rays, rubber, to name a few.
“I remember when you first mentioned the demo you saw of the CortiTrak BCI. You had a sense there was something big there, but you couldn’t put it into words. I gave you a hard time because of that. But your inner voice, not my rigorous methodology, may have uncovered capabilities no one ever imagined we might possess. In the long run, it may well turn out that yours is the more significant discovery.”
The happy, warm glow Pax had felt earlier came rushing back. Pax wondered if perhaps Cevis was suddenly able to be appreciative of the good work done by others, now that he’d achieved his own life goal, or whether he was just buzzed from the scotch.
Pax decided he didn’t care because he knew that without a doubt the scotch was starting to get the better of him. He felt himself losing his balance and jabbed the butt of his stick into the ground to steady himself. Cevis laughed, “This is some good shtuff, isn’t it?”
“No kiddin’. I wadn’t feeling anything until a moment ago, but suddenly, wham!” He gave a loose-lipped smile at Cevis from across the table. “So, doesh this project of yours have a name?” he asked. “Something other than ’The Secret to Eternal Life.”
Cevis laughed too loud and said, “Yes. Project Aegis.”
“Aegish? What’s that?”
“It’s an authorization from a great power,” said Cevis, “like a god, to undertake an endeavor of great significance. Some cultures depict it as the skin of an animal, some as a breashplate. Damn, I can’t talk anymore!”
“Thash okay, thash okay,” Pax assured him. “I get the idea—ish appropriate.” He raised his glass toward Cevis, and in an exaggeratedly loud voice said, “An now, to the man who hash dishcovered the everlashting fountain of youf! To the man who would be famoush—if anyone knew he exishted.”
Cevis laughed raucously. They zigzagged their way toward each other and clinked their glasses together loudly, then took defiantly long drinks.
“That’s what I wanted to hear!” Cevis boomed. “Damn, Oreshty, this is an amazing day! People will look back on thish day in hishtory with referensh one day, my friend. With referensh!”
He took another drink, then looked at Pax. His eyes seemed to suddenly clear, as if by force of will he had suspended the stupefication that had overtaken them.
“I’m taking a great risk in bringing you in on this, Oreste. This secret must not be shared with anyone, until we both agree the time is right. You must never speak of it to anyone except me, and even then only when it is safe to do so. Until then, you must swear it will remain our secret. Swear to me I have your allegiance. Swear to me!”
Pax happily raised his glass to eye level and said, “You haf my wurd, ode friend.” He shouted, “To ush! To life! To eternity!”
Cevis raised his glass high as well, then in unison they finished their drinks and slammed them down on the table.
Chapter 21
They finished playing the game, then played one more. By then Pax was too drunk to hold the cue stick, so he and Cevis made their way upstairs. When the light from above them suddenly dimmed, Pax looked up and saw Risi’s silhouette framed in the doorway.
The bot had a startlingly realistic anthropomorphic design. Its synthetic skin and hair, plus its congregation of servo motors, electric cabling, and pneumatic hoses, gave it a form and movement that was remarkably human. Its eyes and mouth were highly expressive, and as he apprehended her from below while struggling to make his way up the stairs, Pax thought she looked like the most beautiful woman in the world. The way she smiled down at them was almost angelic. Ingan, the Japanese company that made her and currently held a 42 percent share of the worldwide bot market, touted her model as the quintessence of robotic femininity. For the first time, Pax wondered if Cevis might also be using her as a companion as well as a servant.
Pax saw Risi had taken Gabe out of the silencer tin and was holding it in front of her with both hands. “Hello, Mr. Pax,” she said, her voice low and alluring. She took two steps back as Pax reached the top of the stairs. “Mr. Pierson told me we might be seeing you more often in the future, so I took the opportunity to initiate a direct comm link between Cyrus, myself, and your Univiz. I believe his name is Gabe? It’ll enable us to communicate with him anytime and more proactively prepare for and attend to your needs when you’re with us.”
“Souns grade, Rishi. Thangsh!”
“If you can just authorize the request we’ll be all set.”’
“Sure, sure,” Pax said. He tried to take the UV from her but fumbled it and almost dropped it. Risi’s hand shot out faster than he could blink and snagged it before it had fallen six inches.
“Careful, Mr. Pax,” she said in a teasing voice. “Here, let me help you with that.” She adroitly spun the UV around and placed it over his eyes and ears, then connected the tips together. Even in his drunken state, Pax noticed her touch was surprisingly delicate. He sighed gratefully.
“Thanks, Risi.”
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Pax,” she said.
“ID verification, please,” said Gabe.
Pax rolled his eyes and said “Aaaughh! Somebody shoot me!” He lolled his head in Cevis’ direction. “This is all your fault, you know.”
“I think you’ll survive,” said Cevis. “Come on, let’s get you to the helicopter before Risi has to carry you.”
Pax raised his palms up, then looked leeringly over at Risi. “That doesn’t sound so bad, eh Risi?”
Risi gave a coquettish giggle, but then Gabe said, “Mr. Pax,” “direct comm links between Mr. Pierson’s Univiz, as well as his multifunction service bot, Risi, and I have been proposed. Do you want to authorize them?”
“Yesh, yesh,” said Pax.
“Thank you, sir. I’ve authorized both devices to communicate with me at any time.”
“Wonnerful. Now, will all of you pleash stop talkin’ so damn mush!”
Pax and Cevis walked back down the path toward the clearing, bracing against each other for support. Several times, when Pax thought for certain he was going to fall, Cevis somehow caught him while managing to keep his own balance as well. When they reached the helicopter, Pax got up into the cabin with a helpful shove on his backside from Cevis. Pax managed to buckle himself into the restraining harness but left the parachute where it lay on the seat next to him.
Cevis made some gestures which Pax assumed were directions to Cyrus to have the chopper fly Pax home. Pax mumbled at Gabe to tell the mFarad to drive itself back to the house just as he felt the chopper lift off the ground. He looked out the window and saw Cevis standing at the edge of the clearing, waving at him. Pax blew him a sloppy kiss in response. Cevis smiled, then turned and walked back toward the house. Pax marveled at the briskness of Cevis’ stride, when he felt as if he himself couldn’t take another step.
As the chopper reached cruising altitude, the lights from the buildings and cars below became as blurred as Pax’s mind. He wanted to sleep, but the enormity of what Cevis had told him kept injecting itself into his consciousness. The possibilities of what he would be able to do unfurled endlessly in front of him. He would no longer have to cram all the things he might hope to do into a limited amount of time. Now he had all the time in the world. He and Cevis would soon be venturing into uncharted territory, pursuing a reality no human had ever experienced. Billions and billions of people had come before them, and every one of them had died. But he and Cevis would live on.
The thought was astonishing. He would have time to travel anywhere he wanted, learn any hobby or language, become an expert in any skill. He thought of the things he might now live to see: hyperloop transportation around the world, cruises to remote space stations, the colonization of Mars. He felt his pulse quicken at the thought of the possibilities that now existed for him. It was as if a giant weight he’d never been aware of had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders.
I am not going to die. I, Oreste Pax, am going to live. Forever.
The enormity of the words seemed to sink into his bones. He savored their weight, their power. It was a gift worth more than any golden treasure, more than any power over man. Dominion over one’s own capacity to exist. Possession of that made one a—
Pax felt a chill run down his spine.
—a god.
He realized the opportunity to live even a few hundred years, suddenly made the gift of existence even more precious than before. Now, he had not one lifetime to lose but all eternity. Pax realized his fate would be intertwined with humanity’s in a way it hadn’t been before. Global warming, overpopulation, diminishing natural resources—they would all affect him personally now. Cevis’ gift would protect him from death by old age, but what if one of them contracted a deadly disease? What if they were both the victims of a wartime conflict? The thoughts were monstrous. The enormity of what was now at stake for him struck him as if he’d been slapped.
A few minutes later the helicopter landed on his front lawn. He opened the door and half-fell out of the cabin onto the grass, somehow managing to wind up on his feet. He looked around, trying to figure out what direction he needed to go.
“Shay, Gabe...you know...ahm a bit drunk!”
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“Really? I couldn’t tell.”
“Sshtop it! Sshtop teashing me you dam mashine, an’ help me get to tha housh!”
Several tiny but powerful LEDs on the front of his UV turned on, illuminating the area in front of him. The large green arrow he’d used to navigate his office the other day appeared once more at the top of his display. It pointed to the left.
“Certainly, Mr. Pax. Just stagger in the direction of the green arrow please.”
Pax grumbled something about the insouciance of modern AIs but did as he was told. As he walked, the arrow gradually straightened out until it was pointing straight. He moved forward, paying close attention to putting one foot in front of the other. Behind him, he heard the gentle whup-whup-whup of the chopper as it rose back into the sky. He trudged forward until he heard the click of the side door to his home unlocking and opening. After entering, Pax briefly considered collapsing on the couch in the living room, but the thought of his enormous, comfortable bed inspired him to muster his remaining energy and head for the small elevator that led to his bedroom. The doors opened, and he leaned heavily on the metal handrail at the back.
Moments later the doors opened again, and Pax thrust himself into motion one last time. He saw his enormous, 2X-King-sized bed against the far wall, beckoning enticingly. He began discarding his clothes onto the floor as he walked, eagerly anticipating his rendezvous with unconsciousness. He felt impossibly heavy, as if he might soon be unable to move himself ever again.
“Goonide,” he said to Gabe. Without waiting for an answer, he touched the tips at the back of his head, took his UV off, and dropped it clumsily on the nightstand. “Oops, sorry Gabe,” he said. Pax crawled onto the bed and fell face-first into the multitude of pillows scattered all over it. His internal resistance to sleep collapsed, and within seconds he was snoring soundly.
Pax awoke with a start. His eyes were already open, but it was still pitch black. He tried to orient himself, but his head felt as thick as molasses. A strange tingle at the base of his skull told him something had woken him. He raised his head sluggishly, and after some blurred peering about he found the softly illuminated numerals of a clock displayed on one of the walls. It read 3:14 a.m.