The Immortality Code

by Douglas E. Richards

  “Hard to imagine,” said Allie.

  “I agree,” said Hoyer. “But true, nevertheless. Biological organisms are raging chemical factories also,” he added. “They may not be able to change one element into another, but they’re still pretty damned impressive. Our bodies tear up food into its molecular constituents. These bits are used to generate energy, or as erector sets to build up other molecules—like DNA. Or they can be stored as fat, which can be chemically broken down later as needed. All of these functions require our cells to carry out countless enzyme-catalyzed chemical reactions, which also generate very little heat.”

  “This symphony of chemical reactions always taking place within biological cells is truly awe-inspiring,” said Allie. “But transmutation is at a whole other level entirely.”

  “Very true,” said Hoyer. “Which is why I know that you, especially, are going to be amazed by what you’re about to see.”

  He gestured toward the center of the room, and as he did the large nanite cube disbanded, and the silvery carpet of moss streamed over the piles of raw material, consuming a small fraction before moving to the center of the room. Then, as Hoyer had promised, an end table quickly grew to life before their eyes, an exact replica of the one the nanites had just eaten in the break room. The glass was just as smooth, and the brass just as shiny.

  Finished, the nanites streamed back to Hoyer’s side and formed a cube once again.

  Hoyer walked to the table and rapped on the glass, as if to verify that it was the genuine article.

  “Incredible,” whispered Allie.

  Reed nodded his agreement beside her. Even after seeing it, it was hard to believe.

  “One more quick demonstration,” said Hoyer, “and we can return to the break room. Let’s try something millions of times more complex than an end table, just to show they can fabricate, literally, anything.”

  Seconds later the nanites repeated what they had done while constructing the table, this time spitting out a perfect copy of the latest Apple iPhone, complete with logo, on the ground next to the table. The major picked it up and touched the screen, which glowed to life.

  “I gave them one of these to digest a few months back,” he explained. He held the phone out in front of him. “And this one will work just fine. It’s indistinguishable from the original in every way. It even contains the text strings and email messages the original had when it was digested. Notice it’s also fully charged.”

  “Now that’s just showing off,” said Allie.

  Hoyer smiled. “The nanites just took some of the inexhaustible energy they tap into and lent it to the battery.”

  The major led them back into the break room, and the trio reclaimed their former seats.

  The major adjusted his position in the recliner and then turned to Reed. “Some items I can have the nanites make in two ways. The Glock that I had them construct for you didn’t require any raw materials, nor did the body suit. These were made from the nanites’ bodies alone. Taking advantage of their programmable matter capabilities. But this won’t fly with most items. Only those that can be made functional using the material the nanites are made of. Whatever the hell that is.”

  “I assume you’ve fed them a variety of military gear,” said Reed.

  “You have no idea. Explosives, heavy armaments, spy drones, combat knives, guns of every type, armored vehicles. It’s all there now, in their memory—ready to be built from trees, dirt, and whatever else I decide to have them use as raw material.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “So what do you think?” he added, addressing both guests. “Impressive, huh?”

  “I think it’s fair to say that they beat the hell out of the Legos I had as a kid,” said Reed with a wry smile.

  “Very fair,” agreed Allie.

  “Their capabilities are similar to the fictional replicators from Star Trek,” said Hoyer. “Except the nanites use energy to convert one form of matter into another. Whereas the replicators seem to be able to use a transporter-like technology to convert energy into matter directly.”

  “I’m familiar with Star Trek replicators,” said Reed. “Remarkable, but way underused. They’re able to make anything out of thin air, right? Yet we mostly only see them making Earl Grey tea. For a bald man.” He smiled. “Which brings me to another gripe. If future humanity can invent starships, transporters, and replicators, why can’t we cure male-pattern baldness?”

  Allie laughed. “Seriously?” she said. “You two bad-asses are Star Trek geeks? Now that might be the biggest surprise of all.”

  “Are you kidding?” said Hoyer. “Who doesn’t love Star Trek? It’s like ice cream. Or puppies. If you don’t love these, you aren’t wired right.”

  “Not sure Star Trek is in the same league as puppies,” said Allie with a grin, “but I take your point. I’m a big fan myself. But maybe we should get back to nanites.”

  “Right,” said Hoyer. “Of course.”

  “What can I say about this tech?” she said. “It’s extraordinary. Beyond extraordinary. I’m at a loss for words. The nanites are like the wildest dreams of Richard Feynman come to life.”

  “I’m not sure I get the reference,” said Reed.

  “Feynman is considered the father of nanotech,” explained Allie. “He had a once-in-a-century type intelligence,” she added. “In the same league as Newton, Einstein, and James Clerk Maxwell. So visionary that he was lecturing about the technology we’ve just seen in 1959, one capable of moving individual atoms about. Manipulating them to build any item imaginable out of its constituent atoms—from the bottom up.”

  “A lot easier said than done,” noted Reed.

  “Apparently not for the aliens,” said Allie. “Our nanotechnologists have made ever tinier machines, and we’ve made progress with 3D printing. Still, the work is in its infancy. But what we’ve just seen requires a level of scientific and engineering sophistication that’s inconceivable.”

  “We’ve all heard Arthur C. Clarke’s famous quote by now,” said Hoyer. “It’s become so common, I think they’re printing it on fortune cookies. But it’s also true.”

  “You mean, ‘any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic’?” said Reed.

  “That’s the quote. And no truer words have ever been spoken. Even a hundred years ago, scientists would have found our cell phones inconceivable.”

  “But this is orders of magnitude more impressive than a cell phone,” said Allie. “I mean, it’s a fabrication system that can quickly manufacture something as complex as a supercomputer from dirt. That can turn a pile of garbage into a laptop in one easy step.”

  Hoyer nodded. “Since I acquired the nanites, I’ve done considerable research on nanofabrication and given it a lot of thought. And I had an epiphany. Most scholarly articles compare nanofabrication to 3D printing—but at the molecular level. But there’s a better example. An example that’s been around for millions of years, and is so common we completely take it for granted. Any guesses?”

  He waited only a few short seconds, and when neither of his guests volunteered an answer, he continued. “The example is life itself,” he said simply. “All life. What is life other than perfect nanofabrication in action? A fertilized human egg, consisting of a single cell, can generate a fully formed human being in less than nine months, following a blueprint found in a microscopic molecule called DNA. Now that’s 3D printing, at the microscopic, molecular level.”

  Allie laughed in delight. “Wow. We really do take life for granted, don’t we? I respect Nature enough to borrow a qubit design from living organisms, but I never really stopped to think of life in the context of nanofabrication.”

  “It took me a while to draw the parallel myself,” said Hoyer. “Life may not transmute elements like the nanites do, but it does almost everything else the same way. A single fertilized human egg cell knows how to start dividing. How to convert raw materials it finds in its environment into copies of itself. Growing from one cell
into trillions. And talk about complexity. Each division requires the cell’s machinery to find the molecular constituents needed to assemble all the ingredients of the cell, including all three billion letters of DNA. Which, if typed out, would fill hundreds of printed volumes. And which has to be copied with near perfect fidelity.”

  The major paused for effect. “And if this isn’t impressive enough,” he continued, “the cells are also able to change form on command. At some point in the process, some of them morph into heart cells, some eye cells, some blood cells, and so on. How?” he asked. “Who the hell knows?” he continued, answering his own question. “Most impressive of all, the cells can construct a working human brain, hundreds of billions of neurons strong.”

  “It is a great analogy,” said Allie. “You’re absolutely right. A fertilized human egg cell is a nanite, plain and simple. We can’t fathom how your nanites can fabricate a cell phone. But we also can’t fathom how an egg cell can fabricate a baby. The difference is that we can make a cell phone without using nanites. Not true when it comes to babies. Without the starter nanite of a fertilized egg, we’re all out of options. Even the fine engineers at Apple can’t construct a living baby. Or even a fruit fly.”

  “Very true,” said Hoyer. “But the nanites have the advantage of speed and versatility. A human nanite can only produce a human. And an alligator nanite can only produce an alligator. But the alien nanites can fabricate an endless array of items, and do it quickly.”

  “It really is an eye-opening comparison,” said Reed. “It doesn’t take away from what the nanites can do, but it does remind us of just how miraculous biological reproduction truly is. Until this moment, I’ve never thought of a human being as something that had to be manufactured. But of course it is.”

  “And it doesn’t end at birth,” said Allie. “Even after an infant has been constructed, the cells still act like nanites. They convert baby formula and milk into more baby, so it can ultimately grow into an adult.”

  There was a long silence in the room. Reed found it remarkable to go from engaging in a bloody slaughter, to engaging in a soaring intellectual discussion, without missing a beat. But didn’t this exemplify the essence of humanity in a nutshell? Barbaric, ruthless, and corrupt on the one hand, but capable of epic flights of brilliance and imagination on the other.

  “I just had a thought,” said Allie, gesturing toward the major. “You have the same smart lenses that Zach lost. So can’t you just have the nanites make a copy for him?”

  “I could, but it wouldn’t help. Each pair of lenses are uniquely tweaked to fit the optical peculiarities of their owners. And a copy of my lenses wouldn’t carry the proper decryption information he’d need to connect to Eve. There are other differences. Bottom line is that they’re personalized.”

  “He’s right,” said Reed. “But thanks for thinking of me, Allie. As it stands, it might take weeks before Tech Ops can tailor a new pair for my use.”

  The commander paused. “So is that everything, Major?” he asked. “Any other tricks the nanites can do?”

  “Probably. But these are the only ones I know about.”

  “Well, they’re more than impressive enough, already,” said Reed. “I just can’t believe Aronson decided to keep this tech all to himself,” he added in disgust. “To what end?”

  “My best guess?” said Hoyer. “To bend the entire world to his will. I’m not sure how this will manifest itself, openly or behind the scenes. But the nanites give him unlimited power. And I’ve studied up on psychopaths since Aronson wiped out my team. Being easily bored is one of their hallmark characteristics. So is fearlessness. They have a need to generate excitement, drama, conquest. Adrenaline. To compensate for their lack of normal human wiring and emotion. The more brilliant they are, the greater this need becomes.”

  “And what could be more stimulating than using nanite tech to control the world?” said Allie knowingly.

  “That’s my fear,” said Hoyer. “I’m sure Aronson’s been planning for a long time. Moving pieces around the board. Carefully timing each one. Right now he’s operating in the shadows. But any day now he could burst onto the stage in a big way. A very deadly way.”

  “Do you have any idea how to counteract the threat?” said Reed.

  “I do. One only. Fight fire with fire.” The major stared deeply into Allie’s eyes. “And that’s where you come in, Dr. Keane.”

  29

  Allie Keane stared at the major as if he had lost his mind. “I’m not following you,” she said.

  “I didn’t expect you would,” said Hoyer. “But we’re almost there. Let me go back to where I was before my demonstrations.”

  He rose and poured himself another goblet of wine, while Allie and Reed grabbed a second bottle of water.

  The major returned to the recliner, frowning as he realized that he had vanished the end table where he wanted to rest his wine. “If you recall,” he began, “after almost a year of searching, I found Bryce Aronson. As it turned out, he was living on a small private island he had purchased, complete with a mansion, not far from the island nation of Antigua.

  “I surveilled him, and even managed to get housefly drones to look over his shoulder and intercept computer passwords, which is how I learned most of what I learned. From the notes and video experiments I found saved on his computer. But I couldn’t spy on him for too long. He’s brilliant, and I didn’t want to push my luck. I was also eager to kill the bastard. He had wiped out the entirety of ET Ops, and I’ll admit I not only wanted him dead, I wanted him to suffer.”

  He paused. “But before I mounted an attack, I made sure to locate and siphon off a supply of nanites for myself. If the attack blew up in my face, and he got away, at least I’d salvage the tech, to study and eventually give to the world.”

  Reed nodded in approval. “Smart,” he said. “And this explains how you got your nanites.”

  “Stolen from a small supply Aronson had ignored for some time. A tiny fraction of what he had, which I hoped he had all but forgotten about. As soon as I had them I began to organize an all-out attack.”

  The major shook his head miserably. “But a funny thing happened on the way to my blitzkrieg. Our military, at the highest levels, got wind of what I was planning—and vetoed it. Shut me down cold. I couldn’t get authorization for a raw grunt in boot camp to help me. If I had pushed any harder, I would have outed myself. The upper echelon of our military and government didn’t know who I was, or why I possessed the command codes and access I did. I could have tried to explain about the demise of a black ops unit they never knew existed. About the massacre perpetrated by Aronson. About how it left me the lone survivor of the group. But whether they believed me or not, I’d have lost my privileges. Which would have crippled me. I couldn’t take that chance.”

  “So you backed off quickly to keep your access,” said Reed.

  “Right. Which also ensured I’d receive zero help when it came to Aronson and his island.”

  “But I don’t understand,” said the commander. “Why were our people running interference for this guy?

  “Because he has cleverly ingratiated himself into our military,” replied Hoyer. “I’m sure you’d guess how if I gave you enough time. But let me cut to the chase.” He arched an eyebrow. “His protection was part of a deal he negotiated in secret with the Secretary of Defense. A contract worth hundreds of millions—which no doubt set him up on his island and funded his activities, by the way. A contract to supply the military with a little something called carbyne.”

  Reed’s eyes widened. “So that’s where it comes from,” he said in astonishment. “Of course. It makes so much sense. Where else would an impossible-to-make material come from? From a man with a technology that can make the impossible.”

  “You got it. And the military has big plans for his carbyne. So he’s become untouchable. He’s their magic supplier. Their only source in the world. If he dies—or even gets pissed off—they can kiss car
byne goodbye forever.”

  “Which explains why you’re employing mercenaries rather than US military,” said Reed.

  “Very good, Commander. But the men I took to Utah are all highly trained. And we were all out of uniform. So how did you know they were mercs?”

  “I’m not sure. I trust my gut. And my gut knew.”

  “Which is why you were glad I wanted to delay this discussion until we arrived here.”

  “Yes. Seems to me a merc’s loyalty is too easy to buy. That’s the whole thing about being a merc. You’re just in it for the money.”

  “I pay them well enough to ensure loyalty,” said Hoyer. “But I take your point. I’d love to use military assets, but not while I’m working to take down Bryce Aronson. He may be the most brilliant psychopath in the world, but I will kill him,” he vowed. “Even if I have to do it with my bare hands.”

  “So he’s still on his island?” said Reed.

  “No. About a year ago, just after I had given up on military help, I gathered mercs and armaments and attacked.” He shook his head. “But the attack failed. Aronson’s too good, too well equipped, and too well protected. Not to mention that he has too many friends in the military who appreciate his carbyne. And I know that’s not the only deal he’s struck. We raided a military armory to get supplies for my nanites to copy and found more octa there than I thought existed in the entire world. Has to be Aronson and his nanites striking again. A military contract that allows him to get richer and more indispensable, cozy up even closer to the top brass, and keep his finger tightly on the military’s pulse.”