The international coordination lacked unity, however. Behind closed doors, finger-pointing and accusations were abundant. Leaders of the A10 suspected the President of the United States and Senator Gregory Michaelson—who was at the start of a campaign run for the White House—were after exclusively acquiring the new military and scientific technology on Transhumania. After all, America, once the longtime leader of the world, was no longer that at all. They may have still reported the largest GDP, but it wasn’t by much of a lead anymore, and they certainly lacked new ideas and inventions in the pipeline. Data showed China, India, and maybe even Brazil would surpass them in less than a decade in terms of innovation and overall wealth. The U.S.A. needed something to kick-start them as the undisputed world leader again, as the principal superpower. One obvious way was by exclusively grabbing Transhumania's bounty of transformative technology, medical cures, and inventions.
“The bully stealing from the new kid,” was whispered and chuckled in the backrooms of the Chinese, Indian, and Brazilian governments.
Despite pressure from A10 sanctions, Transhumania remained mostly unaffected due to its assiduous commitment to remain independent of the world’s nations and its economies. The floating city possessed enough on-board resources for many years, and the black market around the globe was more than sufficient to provide additional measures for the tiny country.
Reverend Belinas and Senator Michaelson knew this, and pushed the NFSA further—beyond the law. Way beyond it. They began meddling in the personal lives of Transhumanians who were former Americans, seizing their bank accounts, placing IRS liens on properties they owned, and harassing their U.S. family members who didn't live on the seasteading nation. When they signed on years ago, Jethro had forewarned Transhumanian citizens that these things would eventually happen. That precautions like changing names on titles of real estate and other assets would be imperative. That moving immediate family members with them onto the floating city was preferred. During the past five years, many scientists sold their properties and assets, putting their money into accounts held in Transhumania, or abroad under secret names and corporations that were untraceable.
Inevitably, some Transhumanians who were formerly Americans felt intense pressure and returned to their native cities, caving to the Stalin-like actions of the NFSA. Soon, other A10 countries saw the success of the overboard tactics and also implemented them to distract and sabotage their defecting scientists. Over the next few months, hundreds of Transhumania’s citizens left, reluctantly returning to their homelands. The floating nation felt the pain of an open wound, oozing its own blood and energy. Science projects in the skyscrapers were left unfinished; offices and residences were left vacant. The mood was dour. One citizen in particular, Nobel Prize winner David Cantury, while working on brain neurons that interact with computer chips, announced his departure and went back to San Diego, California. Jethro Knights begged him to stay, but he refused.
“They’re targeting my mother, Jethro. They’re calling her in the middle of the night and giving her goddamn death threats. I don't want to leave Transhumania, or leave my research unfinished, but men wearing dark sunglasses are following her around the grocery store. They’re leaving packages at her front door with human bones inside them.”
“Bring her here, David. We’ll pay for everything. We'll have her here by tomorrow—in my personal jet, if you like.”
“I’ve already told you. She won’t come. She’s ninety-two years old and incredibly stubborn. She just wants to finish her life where she is, in the same house she’s been in for over a half century. I’m sorry, Jethro, but she's my mother. I need to go protect her and be there for her.”
“They might kidnap you. Or torture you. Or charge you as a traitor when you're back there. The American Government is liable to do anything.”
“I know that. But she's my mother. Do you understand? My mother. I have to go and try to help her.”
Jethro understood. If it were Zoe Bach or his child doing the same silly thing, he would be in a conundrum. He told the scientist to come back when he could, and that he was always welcome. That same night, however, while on a walk through the park at Memorial Vista, Jethro came to a decision. Staring at the statue of Dr. Nathan Cohen’s decapitated body being dragged away by black-clad ghouls, it was more than Jethro could tolerate anymore from America and the A10. David Cantury was irreplaceable, and his research was essential. He was one of Jethro's top ten visionaries. His laboratory was filled with 5,000 Petri dishes, and only he knew exactly what was going on with them. The goal of successfully integrating brain neurons with computer chips could now be years away.
Jethro phoned his secretary, instructing her to organize a secret meeting the next day between the military, science, and technology heads of Transhumania. The time had come to prepare for the war he always knew was inevitable.
Chapter 28
Normally, Jethro Knights called division heads together on a quarterly basis, when speeches and computer presentations were made over a four-hour marathon lunch. This time, the impromptu meeting was called only five weeks after the last major gathering—and every supervisor knew what it meant.
“Ladies and gentleman, thank you for coming,” Jethro said from the podium, when all 235 Transhumanian section leaders filled the conference hall. Behind the seated crowd, the ocean howled on that stormy day, flexing the skyscraper’s thick windows.
“This is an arduous moment for me, and these are difficult words I must say to you today. They are going to be followed by many challenging weeks and months ahead of us. We are entering the most critical years of the transhuman movement since the NFSA shut it down in America. As you know, the outside world increasingly attempts to obstruct the trajectory of this nation. It's the same old bullshit.”
People in the audience nodded in agreement.
“They have imposed economic sanctions on Transhumania and its citizens. They are harassing our friends and families in our former countries. And, eventually, they will pursue a full-scale military attack directly on our beloved city using whatever justification they can muster. We don't know when they'll do it. It could be in weeks, or in many months. Our sources say they clearly mean to halt our research and eliminate our way of life. I believe they'll stop at nothing to do so. They aim to stick you all right back into your old worlds—to their poorly funded universities, insolvent banks, potholed roads, corrupt tax schemes, stagnating laws, and religiously biased cultures. They mean to befuddle you like they befuddled themselves.
“You at the lead here in Transhumania know that we are at the cusp of possessing the technology and strategy to defeat them. Our four-tier military system is just about ready. Our aircraft are in the final testing stages; speed records were broken again last week. The anti-missile defense shield is up and functional. The supercomputers are ready to dismantle missile navigation systems in seconds. Even our robots have just returned from their first set of training missions with outstanding success.
“My friends and colleagues, I believe the time has come to use our technology and our creations to complete the goal that was built into the TEF Manifesto from the start, which we all agreed to uphold before coming here. The Transhuman Revolution seeks to transform the world into a transhumanist-inspired planet. Transhumania aims to fulfill that goal in order to harness the Earth’s resources and to unite with those millions of people on the outside who can, and want to, help us accelerate the greater transhuman mission.
“I know many of you would prefer a world without war and violence. I wish I could tell you that kind of world was possible right now. I wish it was that easy,” Jethro said, his voice tempered. “It is not possible, however. At least not now. Make no mistake, my friends and colleagues, this will be war. Death, destruction, and suffering are inevitable, and the world will not easily forget what we do.
“With those realities in mind, I have come before you today to give you a choice: If you are not unequivocally on our side, or
if you are not ready to meet those challenges, or if you think you don't want to be involved, then I request that you terminate your employment and citizenship on Transhumania. You’ll be given seven days of departure preparation and free transport off the city to wherever you desire to go. You can take the money you've earned thus far, but all research, all your science projects, and all your inventions of technology must stay. You agreed to that in your contracts before you were allowed to live and work here and be one of us.
“For those of you who choose to leave, understand that Transhumania and the TEF Manifesto are built upon the strictest integrity, seeking the best in ourselves and in our mutual transhuman aims. Cowards, deserters, and those who straddle moral fences while playing the field are not my idea of venerable transhumanists, or of worthy colleagues, partners, and friends. I encourage you to carefully weigh your decision of whether to leave or not. You will not be invited back—not to our amazing floating city, not to the new world we will forge in the future.”
Jethro gazed into the crowd, wondering who would leave. He hoped only a few, at most. He needed every single one of them. And each of them needed each other.
“Every one of you is to go to your teams and staff today, and tell them the same thing I have told you: war is imminent. You are also to offer them the same opportunity to leave Transhumania on the same terms I have given you. Tell them everything exactly as I have told you just now. If there are those who are afraid, confused, or worried, tell them to come speak directly to me, or Dr. Langmore, or Mayor Burton, or Mr. Mbaye. Some of these distressed citizens may need just a little reassurance to make the right decision.
“For those who stay—all of you, I hope—a comprehensive war plan is being finalized, but it will likely not be implemented unless the outside world strikes first. We have that luxury. We will try to reason with the governments of the world. We will try to help them come to support our way of life, to join us and provide what they can. But once they refuse—and they likely will—and once they attack us militarily—and I'm sure they will try—I will order our defensive forces to retaliate with acute vengeance. Absolute victory is our foremost goal. We will not leave a major political building standing on any continent; we will not leave a major religious structure intact anywhere on the planet; we will not leave any governments operating freely and independently. The lesson we inflict will be severe and lasting; the power we demonstrate: undeniable. We will attempt to avoid casualties to the populace. Infrastructure will be left untouched wherever possible. Social mayhem and looting will try to be controlled. Economies and utilities will be ordered to operate. Law and order will attempt to be maintained as best as can be accomplished.”
Jethro glanced out at the chaotic sea. His colleagues knew he did not look forward to going through with any of it. Jethro’s inner desire was to work on his floating mass of creative energy with good friends and brilliant colleagues for decades to come—to embrace and celebrate the science, to write philosophical papers on the direction of life extension, and to directly pursue immortality. There was already enough technological advancement on Transhumania to guarantee every citizen a far greater extended life: 120 years plus, easy. And, who could foresee all the brilliance and innovation that would happen in those extra decades? Vast amounts, undoubtedly. There was no need to go out there at all.
Regrettably, the smug outside world wanted in, wanted control. They erroneously deemed it their moral right. And they would stop at nothing to push their siege on Transhumania, especially as the city grew stronger every day. But Jethro also deeply believed some of the world’s population on the outside—possibly much of it—were valuable in and of themselves; they were significant, unrealized transhuman potential. Especially if some could be turned and recast: formed and guided away from being sheepish, religious, fad-chasing consumers into being independent thinkers and creators. Jethro Knights and every person in that conference center knew this was not just about transhumanism, but about successfully navigating the possibility of a Singularity—controlling artificial intelligence and merging with it once it launched. And not being destroyed by it, or left behind by it, or bedeviled by it. Humanity was at the very end of its brief existential epoch in time. For that transition, Jethro needed everything the planet possessed in its arsenal. Every resource. Every available transhuman mind. Every value possible.
Jethro turned from the ocean and stated firmly to the leaders of Transhumania, “We want to teach the people of the outside world, not destroy them; we want to convince them, not dictate them; we want them to join us, not fight us. They may not be essential, but they may help make it possible for us when it’s time to journey through what is essential.”
Jethro stood near the podium after his speech was over. His eyes were intent as he watched the grave faces of his colleagues. He lifted his arm, inviting any questions.
“If we win,” called out Dr. Brad Warner, head of the robotics division, “what will happen afterward? What will we do? Where will we go?”
Jethro sighed and slumped his shoulders. “For me this is the most difficult part of the future. Because I will ask something of you all…that nobody wants to do. Because we all love it here so much, sharing our dreams and research with the most interesting people in the world every day.”
Jethro took a deep breath, “I will ask you to leave Transhumania. In the next few weeks, each of you will be receiving a personalized pamphlet with details. In short, once we win, I will request that most of you return to your former homelands. Or wherever you best fit. You will have a choice, of course, to do as you desire and go where you like, and take the wealth you’ve earned. Nevertheless, in the best interest of the transhuman mission, I feel it expedient to appoint you as interim leaders of your birth nations and its major cities. Many of you will also oversee massive new science projects that only the resources of individual continents can foster. Others of you will be asked to found and build new universities and educational institutes, some of which will become the largest, most populated learning centers in the world.
"It is my hope that in your new appointments, you will seed and cultivate a surplus of amazing new transhuman projects to fruition for us all. As incentive to accept these new duties asked of you, your compensation packages will be staggering. I aim to make each and every one of you—as well as all other citizens on Transhumania—some of the richest and most powerful people in the world.”
Murmurs erupted in the crowd, until Dr. Mohamed Abrim, the Iranian Nobel Prize-winning chemist, stood up and asked, “What of our research and discoveries? What will happen to all our advancements and hard work here?”
“On your journey back to your homelands and new posts,” Jethro said, “you will take the inventions, technologies, discoveries, and new fields of science we've created here and share them. Share them all: the cures for cancers, the anti-aging innovations, the aerospace advancements, the biotech tissues, the neurotech enhancements, the microchip improvements, the robotic technologies; anything and everything that will kick-start their economies, spawn new commerce, and enhance our relations with the world’s people. You will be the visionaries and leaders who make our greater future possible. You will launch a new era, all under the Transhumanian flag.
“Earth, and human habitation of it, will be redesigned. It will no longer be many different countries with different cultures on different continents, but one committed transhuman alliance. It will be transformed into one global civilization bound to advancing science—one great transhuman planet. There will be no more sovereign nations, only Transhumania. Our transhuman goals will be the same as before; there will just be a lot more people working towards them, and a lot more resources to help us achieve success.”
************
Four months later, after sanctioning trade, freezing accounts, and issuing threats against Transhumania and its citizens proved largely ineffective, A10 governments decided to pursue far harsher action to control the rogue nation. At the urging of S
enator Gregory Michaelson, Reverend Belinas, and the President of the United States, America recommended that all A10 countries convene in Europe to create and sign a bold new decree. In a highly publicized meeting in Brussels, the ten countries unanimously voted to issue a formal ultimatum—for the protection of humanity they insisted—to collectively monitor and regulate the activities and research on Transhumania. Moreover, they determined their collective legal right to stop transhuman experiments discovered to be crimes against the greater good of the human race. If Transhumania didn’t comply, then the A10, through a resolution with the United Nations, retained the right to declare war and use military force to accomplish their objectives.
The following day, the ultimatum was crafted into a letter and addressed to Jethro Knights and Transhumania. The letter was signed by all leaders of the A10. Numerous other countries around the world also issued their support and consent when requested by the A10. The letter was sent via Chinese Government courier to Transhumania.
Jethro was working at his desk in his residence, dictating to his computer, when the computerized intercom announced, “Dr. Preston Langmore is here to see you, Mr. Knights.”
“Okay, let him in,” snapped Jethro, annoyed to be interrupted.
Langmore quickly walked in, holding up the sealed letter in his hand.
“Well, here it is, Jethro,” he said, looking pale and nervous.
“Oh come on, Preston. We already know what it says. We don’t need to read it. It says: Dear Transhumanists: We’re afraid of you. We don’t like being afraid. We’re a super-ape race. We worship omnipotent gods and pink elephants flying around in the sky, which we can't really see but can create very elaborately in our minds and cultures anyway. And why don't you join us and be a super-ape too? Otherwise, if you don't, we’ll beat you up.”
The Transhumanist Wager Page 38