Technophobe!

by Matt Crawley

  Chapter 2

  However much he tried, Tom could not stop thinking about the boardroom. By now it was midnight and still the adrenaline was like a high wired battery inside his chest. Why couldn't he relax? The presentation should have been better. His brother was a mess. What was David up to? What was he hiding? Maybe he had given up inside, or chickened out like Dr Caine. Was he letting some kind of morality interfere? He thought their business partnership was an open book, but since Brendan started his internship a month ago, David was slightly on edge. Or perhaps Tom was just too restless to think straight. He tried to sleep, but the past few weeks had been filled with the most restless nights and surreal nightmares.

  Early next morning Tom woke after a bizarre dream which had faded from memory as soon as he opened his eyes. He was mouthing some words and not knowing what they were. 'Miinyak.' Wait. An idea had come to him in the night. No, the phrase was 'Mind hack'. More ideas filled his head. David was the only contact on his Mindline chip. What if there was a way to hack into his brother's mind? Hack wasn't the right word. More like 'eavesdrop'. Was there any way he could eavesdrop, even for a moment, what David was thinking? He thought it might be like when a phone conversation ends, but the phone hasn't been hung up properly - you can still hear the activity within the room. 'If he is hiding something, I need to know it, for the project.' He paced the room while munching on some sugary cereal to think about how the hack could work. After all, he had programmed the chip himself, so surely he must be able to override it somehow.

  In his mind he heard a faint 'ting' noise, like a doorbell. This was the Mindline chip's ringtone. His brother was calling him. [Mindline pickup] Tom thought. Mindline voices could be programmed by the caller, and David's sounded so lifelike it could have been him actually speaking.

  [Hello Tom, I hope I did not wake you] David's voice said calmly.

  [No, not exactly] Tom replied, drinking some coffee. [What do you want on my day off?]

  [I have been thinking about possible scenarios where we can test the chips. I thought what better way to do it and burn off stress than have some time at the tennis court at Town Park. Concentrate on having thought conversations while playing. What do you think?]

  [He is mental. He just wants a chance to beat me at everything.] Tom thought. Then he realised that he wasn't fully concentrating - David had just heard him. He spat his coffee in embarrassment. [I am sorry Dave, I did not mean to let that out, I only just woke. I shall see you in an hour.]

  David's voice, though programmed, was disapproving. [Tom, you need to be more controlled, do not make mistakes like that. If we are unable to prove the chip works then this project is a waste of time. See you soon]. A small click sound and the conversation between thoughts closed. Tom slapped his forehead.

  "Idiot" he whispered to himself, and set off.

  Around midday the brothers met at the courts, where many other people were playing. They took the only empty one and got ready.

  "Alright, here's how we'll do it" David shouted across the court. "For the whole game we can't speak to each other audibly, only through the chip. Talk about where we need to go from here, that sort of stuff. And try to play as well as you can. This is about multitasking!"

  [Acknowledged, let us start] Tom replied. He hated being competitive with David, it always felt slightly childish. Lately he had wondered whether David was letting fraternal rivalry take over everything. They started to play, while communicating through thought, about the presentation, and where the product could be in five years time. When hitting difficult shots their conversation became a bit sporadic, but that was to be expected.

  After they got to one set all, Tom started to be less professional and more personal.

  [David, if there are things you are......hiding from me, then you......need to let me know them. What is Brendan doing with you?......You had better not be sharing all our......ideas with him, if he is......such a good technician.]

  David replied without showing any emotion on his face, only a desperation to win the match. [Tom, you need to......trust me with this. Good shot. .......This is our project. You are a great technician......but you show me so little of the technical process.....or your ideas......I am not just a mouthpiece.....and Brendan is only an intern, he helps me in the office.......but he is a good engineer, perhaps better than you.] With that final thought David scrunched his eyes quickly - he didn't want his brother to hear those last few words, but they slipped out, like his mind had sprung a tiny leak.

  Tom kept playing, baring his teeth. [Well I am unsure whether to trust you at present.....I may have to hack your mind....and get some answers myself.] Tom hit the ball into the net. He too was losing control of his thoughts, which made for a very uncomfortable moment. David stood still, staring at him like he was completely offended.

  "Maybe we should stop playing." He said out loud, staring at the ground now.

  Tom ran up to him. "Wait, maybe this is all just stress - it's been a crazy week for both of us. Why not come over to mine tonight for a few drinks and a Chinese?" David nodded, patted him on the shoulder and went back to his car. Unknown to Tom, Brendan had been sitting, waiting in the front seat the whole time - he had offered to drive David to the courts - but he wasn't bored. He had been fiddling with his laptop, with comically large headphones on.

  The phrase 'Mind hack' had been buzzing around Tom's head all day. It had taken a lot of effort to keep the thought away during the tennis match as long as he had. By late afternoon he had finally worked out a plan, and was soon in his workshop getting it ready. First, he knew that his brother fell asleep quickly after a few glasses of wine, which had played its part in a few practical jokes over the years. Second, he knew that David mumbled regularly in his sleep. It seemed to be a family trait. Surely that allowed the speech part of the brain to open up, to be more exposed. If he was somehow able to access David's Mindline chip while he slept, he could hear some of his deepest thoughts, with David completely unaware that it was happening. At least, that's what he hoped. In his workshop he was putting together a device that would allow his Mindline signal to go straight to David's head, with no ringtone or need for him to pick up. 'I can even engineer hypnotism' he thought, heart pounding with excitement.

  He knew his brother well enough. That evening, after three large glasses of red, which Tom had subtly filled like an over-zealous waiter, David's eyes began to droop. The glass fell out of his hand, thudding quietly onto the carpet. 'Well that was easy.' Tom thought. He was sweating, and his hands started to shake slightly. 'But what if I give him permanent brain damage?' he wondered. He tread carefully out of the back door, through the garden towards his workshop, all the while hearing snoring and mutterings.

  He sat down at his desk, switching on a computer, and strapping on a crude, quick-built device. It attached to his head with straps that wrapped tightly round his temples, and had a signal amplifier drooping from the left hand side, near his chip. After a few commands tapped on the keyboard, he heard a faint buzzing inside his head, like white noise. He tried to thought-speak.

  [David. David]

  He heard a reply that sounded disorientated, and drunk. [I am so...I am so happy right now]. It was David's programmed Mindline voice.

  Tom couldn't believe he was actually doing this. [Why are you happy?] he asked. He wasn't quite sure how to talk to the mind of a sleeping drunk.

  [I am part of....this project....with you.....we make a great team. Our machine will make history....I know it]. Tom decided to check on his brother to see if he was alright. Still wearing the helmet, he walked across his workshop and lightly crept through his garden, trying to get a closer look at David through the back window.

  [Are you afraid of anything?] he asked. [Is there anything you are sad about? Is there anything that could go wrong?]

  [Everything is good. We are going to be.....very rich people.] Tom could see him still curled up on the sofa, breathing heavily, lips moving slightly. This was all goi
ng to plan. Maybe everything was all okay after all. He wanted to ask some more questions, about Brendan, just to be absolutely sure. He didn't know if this whole thing was even worthwhile - he was just making it up as he went along.

  Suddenly, the plan spiralled out of control. In the dark, Tom stepped on a twig with a hard crunch. This startled a small owl in the tree above, which shot out towards him like a feathered bullet, claws and shrieks and wings fighting furiously. It was so disturbed by the flashing, humming helmet, but Tom had no sympathy for it. As his mouth cried out, so did his mind. As his mind cried out, so did David's. Still in his sleep, David kicked and waved and shouted and cried. While he was falling into this strange nightmare, his terror seemed to pass back to Tom's mind. And back again, and back again. All the while, the owl scratched Tom on the side of his head. The pain was hot and ugly. David felt the pain too, and still unconscious, he grabbed his head in agony. The pain relayed back to his brother. Everything that was felt in either mind was being passed back and forth, back and forth, like a feedback effect. Even when the owl decided to leave, the raw fear was rolling about in both their heads, and was building momentum. Tom pulled off the helmet. That didn't help. He half-crawled back into the workshop, still clutching his head, and switched off the conversation through his computer. Everything stopped. Calm, like a storm had passed away. 'I don't want to do that ever again.' He thought to himself. He crept back into the house. David was sleeping calmly now, not even mumbling anymore.