by Paul Anlee
“Or any other respectable agency, for that matter,” added the Reverend.
“The thing is, he offered to…infect us, the rest of his team, with the same dendy virus. You know, so we could grow our own enhanced-IQ lattices and be better able to help his research.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the virus-containing capsule, showing it to LaMontagne. “It’s so small,” he whispered.
The Reverend scowled, “When Our Good Lord created man, He did not intend for his handiwork to become a machine. This goes beyond eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. This is becoming the Tree, itself.”
“I know,” Larry whispered. “The thing is, my two colleagues, Greg and Kathy, they took their pills. Enhanced dendy lattices are developing inside their brains as we speak.” He imagined the RNA strands invading their brain cells, forcing them to lay down silicene strands tipped with semiconductor sensors and activators where they met neural synapses. “I’ve already noticed a few changes in their performance; they pick up details faster than I can, faster than they did before.”
LaMontagne rubbed his eyes, suddenly fatigued. “Thank you for telling me this,” he said. “I have no doubt that Dr. Leigh’s actions are illegal but, here in Pacifica, I’m afraid I have little authority beyond reporting his indiscretions.”
“Do you think I should call the FDA or maybe the police?”
The Reverend closed his eyes for a moment of prayerful contemplation. When he opened them again, they were cold and decisive. “No.” He leaned in close to Larry and continued in a conspiratorial hush, “If you are willing, it would help us, all of us, to have someone sympathetic to our viewpoint working closely with Dr. Leigh.”
“I suppose I could report his activities to you.”
“Would that endanger your position with the team?”
“It would be hard to get much lower than I am right now.”
“If you don’t think it would be too risky, it could be helpful to have someone with a superior moral compass and a solid foundation in Our Savior, Yeshua, to monitor their activities.”
“I can do that,” Larry said. “But I’m not a member of your Church.”
LaMontagne smiled. “Never mind that. His spirit is strong within you, whether you know it or not.”
Larry extended his palm that the dendy pill toward the Reverend. “What should I do with this?”
The Reverend took the pill from his hand. “Leave it with me. I'll have it safely destroyed.”
Larry’s immediate response was panic. He'd been struggling for weeks over whether he should accept Darian’s priceless gift. To have that choice taken from him so casually, only heightened his uncertainty. He searched the Reverend's face and found confidence, clearly written, along with something else he couldn’t decode, perhaps a bit of eagerness. It’s going to be okay. The Reverend is so much better equipped to deal with dilemmas like this than I am. Having come to terms with his decision, Larry let the sense of relief wash over him.
“Please make sure you treat it like medical waste and have it incinerated. It’s too dangerous to flush down the toilet.”
“Never you fear.” The Reverend laid his hand on the scientist’s shoulder and intoned, “Bless this man, this warrior, My Lord. Bless his sacrifice and give strength to his resolve. May he achieve an even deeper love for You through his service.”
LaMontagne stood, leaned forward, and kissed Larry on the top of his head, a blessing that was oddly comforting to the scientist. He pulled a business card from his jacket pocket. “I have to go now, but here’s my private contact information. I will always be available for you. Don't hesitate to call me anytime, day or night. You are a brave man, Dr. Rusalov. Rejoice and do not fear, for God has smiled upon the sacrifice you make in His name.”
The Reverend grasped Larry’s right hand in both of his own, shaking it with deep respect. “Do you know Dr. Lucius Pratt?”
“In the Philosophy Department? A little. I met him when Darian first arrived at the university. We were invited to join them at the welcome lunch. Darian's postdocs, that is. Why?”
LaMontagne pursed his lips. “Dr. Pratt is friendly to our cause, as you might have surmised.” Larry smiled and nodded, recalling the debate between Pratt and Darian over lunch that day. How could I forget? That was the most painful free lunch I’ve ever experienced, trapped there between the two of them while they sparred, and no polite way to duck out.
The Reverend continued, “If you'd like, I could ask him to check in with you from time to time.” He held up his hand to quell any objection to being supervised that might be forming on Larry’s lips. “Don’t worry. He won’t be watching you. He’ll just provide a sympathetic ear when you need one. You can use him as a sounding board—but only if you want.”
Larry cast his gaze at the floor. “As long as he’s there as my friend and not as your spy.”
“No, nothing like that. You are undertaking a journey on our behalf at considerable personal risk, and I just want to make sure you have ongoing support close at hand. You will never need to face this alone.”
Larry nodded his acquiescence. “Okay, I’ll speak with him.”
LaMontagne smiled, more with his eyes than his mouth, and signaled his security people. The four of them continued lockstep down the stairs and out of the hall, leaving a bewildered young scientist watching them as they left. What did I just get into?—Larry wondered.
Passing the abandoned refreshment table in the foyer, Reverend LaMontagne helped himself to a bottle of juice and opened the cap with a satisfying “snap”. As they entered the lobby, he sent his retinue outdoors to scout the main entrance for any possible threats. With his team occupied and no one in the nearly empty lobby paying him any attention, he popped the dendy pill into his mouth and took a swig of juice to wash it down.
He beamed in appreciation of his incredibly good fortune, and in anticipation of the tremendous advantage that he had just been given on behalf of his church. Thank you, Lord, for steering events to this time and place, and for this glorious opportunity to enhance my capabilities in service to Thee. He continued to the exit where his car waited.
20
NCSA recording of a conversation between Dr. Lucius Pratt (Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, BC, Pacifica) and Reverend Alan LaMontagne (Austin, Tx, New Confederacy) November 14, 2037.
Pratt: Hello?
LaMontagne: Dr. Pratt, this is Alan LaMontagne.
Pratt: Reverend LaMontagne! Please tell me we were not in any way involved in what just happened.
LaMontagne: Dr. Pratt, you are aware this conversation is automatically being recorded, right?
Pratt: Yes. Yes, of…of course. I’m just in shock.
LaMontagne: Understandable. But you can rest assured that the Church had no involvement with the shooter. He acted alone for whatever personal reasons he might have had. His actions are between him and God, now.
Pratt: Thank you. That is good to hear. Have you heard how Dr. Leigh is doing?
LaMontagne: We do not have any news yet. It’s no secret that we would view it as the Justice of Yeshua should his prognosis turn unfavorable. It is unfortunate, nevertheless, that one so young and so bright should be called to account for his actions before the Lord.
Pratt: It is sometimes shocking to see how swift and terrible His Justice is [sighs]. But Darian did bring this injury on himself. He has never made any effort to temper his impetuous research or its implications.
LaMontagne: No, he hasn’t, has he? Which brings me to the reason for my call.
Pratt: Oh?
LaMontagne: It seems that Dr. Leigh has been engaging in some very questionable human research in his spare time.
Pratt: What do you mean?
LaMontagne: You are aware of his involvement with the dendy research at Neuro Nano Devices, the company his mother founded?
Pratt: Yes, everyone’s aware of his research.
LaMontagne: Actually, there are several lines of t
hat research that very few are acquainted with. But that's not important right now. Did you know that dendy lattices can be grown from engineered RNA introduced into one’s system using a viral transmission vector? It would appear that Dr. Leigh has managed to procure or manufacture a vector quite similar to the one responsible for his special lattice.
Pratt: That is surprising. I would have thought that would be illegal.
LaMontagne: It certainly is. Intelligence-enhancing lattices are strictly forbidden. Neuro Nano assured the FDA that all copies of that particular vector were destroyed, and that there isn't a single synthesis company that can legally recreate it. Nonetheless, Dr. Leigh has shared with his three lab assistants that he has that virus. Furthermore, he offered it to them.
Pratt: What? That’s outrageous! He can’t do that.
LaMontagne: Legally, Dr. Leigh can’t force them to take the pill. Simply being in possession of it is strictly against the FDA ruling. Unfortunately, the punishment for obtaining, offering or using banned medicinal substances has been weakened since the dismemberment of the former United States of America, particularly in Pacifica. He would face no more than a small fine. But the real news is that two of his team members have already ingested the vector; only one resisted the temptation.
Pratt: Oh, my goodness. Do you mean to say there are now three humans with enhanced intelligences at the University? As if one wasn’t trouble enough.
LaMontagne: I presume it will take some amount of time before any significant behavioral differences are observable. But you are quite right. One such person in the entire world is a blasphemy to the Lord. Three is an abomination.
Pratt: I should report this to campus authorities.
LaMontagne: I'm not sure that's the best course of action. The university has been quite thrilled to have a single enhanced-intelligence Professor. Imagine their glee at discovering they have three.
Pratt: So what can we do?
LaMontagne: Well, as luck would have it, I just finished having a very interesting conversation with the only member of Dr. Leigh’s team to refuse the pill.
Pratt: Who was that?
LaMontagne: Dr. Larry Rusalov. I've just spoken with him and he has been touched by the Divine Light. Despite a life dedicated to the perversities of science, he has not turned away from Our Lord. He believes deeply that there is something fundamentally wrong with Dr. Leigh’s theories, and he has faith in the Creator.
Pratt: That’s remarkable.
LaMontagne: Indeed. Furthermore, he has agreed to keep us apprised of the activities and progress of Dr. Leigh and his team.
Pratt: Reverend LaMontagne, I’m surprised that we can condone such action.
LaMontagne: His choices were his own. He also handed over the poison pill to me to destroy. Of course, I made sure right away that the pill met its proper end.
Pratt: Yes, of course.
LaMontagne: It would be helpful if you could meet with Dr. Rusalov every few weeks. Relay what the group is up to, and help him continue to hold to the Truth.
Pratt: I will reach out to him right away.
LaMontagne: The way of intellectualism has long been known for its temptations. His journey will be a difficult one, fraught with the peril of being blinded to the Truth by scientific theories.
Pratt: Yes, too much wrong thinking can make it difficult to see the Light of Our Lord.
LaMontagne: Fortunately, Dr. Rusalov has come to us in time. We can help him stay the course.
Pratt: Very well. I’ll arrange to meet with him.
LaMontagne: Might I suggest you make every effort to keep your relationship discreet? I don’t believe his colleagues would look favorably upon his discussions with you.
Pratt: Agreed. I will invite him somewhere quiet, off-campus.
LaMontagne: Thank you. I think that would be best. Please keep me apprised of your discussions.
21
Darian Leigh woke to deep, silence, darkness, and pain. He dampened the agony coming from his left shoulder. Well, at least I’m alive…I think.
Everything felt strange, hollow. Oh! My brain must be unconscious. His entire cognitive experience was running solely on his silicene semiconductor lattice. That’s never happened before.
His body felt oddly distant. He sensed that he was lying down. His touch, kinesthetic, and pain receptors were all reporting normally. Soft sounds impinged on his auditory channels: regular beeping of a heart and respiration monitors, hushed talking off to his right. He felt the weight of a warm blanket pressing firmly and evenly across his body.
It sounds like a surgical recovery room. His biological brain was still groggy from the general anesthetic. Odd—my lattice is active, but out of sync with the rest of the brain.
The pain was gone. In fact, he felt nothing at all, but he knew it would come rushing back the instant he unblocked the sensory channel. For the moment, his experience seemed to be free of the normal neurohormonal wash of emotions. He replayed his memories of what happened in the hall. When he saw his assassin’s trigger finger tighten, he slowed the images so he could track the bullet’s trajectory.
Ah, yes. He had let himself be distracted by the seething hatred and insane accusations of his assailant, and moved too late. Greg’s heroic tackle had shifted the gunman's aim a hair to the left. Darian had failed to evade the bullet entirely but, luckily, it only smashed his collarbone instead of piercing his heart.
He analyzed his lattice-based response to the physical trauma, and identified several significant weaknesses. The dendies only extended a little way into the autonomic and limbic nervous systems. The lattice had a still smaller overlap with the RAS, the Reticular Activating System that normally connected the conscious brain to its body. It was enough to suppress pain and to keep him from moving around when he was watching inSense.
Interesting. I’ll have to look into the pros and cons of extending the dendy lattice’s reach into older, deeper parts of the brain. Having direct access to physiological functions like respiration and heart-rate as well as a range of hormones could be useful. More relevant to his current predicament, he would have control over the brain-body connection and consciousness.
What if my biological brain doesn’t wake up? Could I dispense with my brain altogether and operate solely on my semiconductor lattice? He contemplated the idea. No. I’m not quite ready for life in this stark, strictly logical, state of consciousness. I need a way to realistically simulate emotional responses before I try that.
He wondered how his lattice had become operational in his present state. Normally, when his brain felt the need to sleep, it detached consciousness from sensorimotor functioning, and his lattice became dormant as well.
He tried to feel the active pathways, without success. Either some residual activity of the RAS had managed to fool the lattice into perceiving his status as alert, or the dendies had become active all on their own. He would have to run a proper scan once the hospital released him.
No idea how long it will be before the rest of me wakes up. I might as well take advantage of the downtime. He turned his attention to designing new viral vectors for broader dendy control of brain functions.
Half an hour later, the unaccustomed sense of confusion returned. His brain was stirring slowly awake, its biological consciousness battling for dominance with the dendy lattice. While one part of him was happily engaged in design work, the other part was groggily trying to figure out what happened and where he was.
Memories of DNA and RNA and protein models clashed with the renewed perception of pain and sound. His lattice-based self quickly stored away his work in progress, leaving the confused biological part of him to puzzle out his whereabouts and what had happened.
The young professor struggled to bring his dazed brain up to speed by rapidly forming new biological memories, but the neurons refused to cooperate. His synapses were flooded with residual anesthetic and not responding correctly to nudges from the dendy lattice. He hadn’t felt this weird s
ince he was twelve. It was like pulling a heavy tractor with a Ferrari using a rubber tow rope. Part of him would race ahead while the other part tried to catch up.
His sluggish biological brain was having a lot of trouble accepting impulses from the lattice, including signals to disengage for a while. He tried to synchronize semiconductor and neural thinking for a few more seconds and then gave up. Reluctantly, he put his dendy consciousness into “hibernation” mode to await reactivation once his biological brain got control of itself, and he drifted back into the haze.
* * *
“Mr. Leigh? Darian? Are you back with us yet?” The nurse leaned forward, presenting her face for him to focus on.
He groaned, responding more to the pain near his left shoulder than to her calls. A vague memory flitted through his awareness; he'd been spun around by the impact of the bullet as it passed through him, shattering his collar bone. He recalled losing consciousness, the result of his biological brain and semiconductor lattice becoming simultaneously overwhelmed by the shock.
Still unable to muster his senses to respond to the nurse, Darian woke his lattice, allowing its memories to flow over his neurons, this time gently re-exerting control over his physiology.
He was surprised to discover that the lattice had already been working in the background. He was not at all surprised, however, by the direction his newest research had taken while he'd been unconscious. He rallied the lattice to his aid in reducing the pain, or rather his perception of it, to a more tolerable level.
“I’m awake,” replied Darian, “Groggy. How bad is the damage?”
“I’ll have to let the doctor tell you about that,” the nurse answered as she slipped a stethoscope under the pressure cuff on his right arm. She listened attentively for a few seconds. “Your pulse is sounding better; I think we can move you out of here and into your own room. I’ll get an orderly to come help move you.” She went across the hall to the nearby nursing station, made a brief call, and poked her head back in the doorway to deliver the news. “Someone will be here in a few minutes, and then we’ll get you more comfortable.”