The Transhumanist Wager

by Zoltan Istvan

  “Yes, probably something like that.”

  “Open it. Pin it up somewhere. Maybe at one of the restaurants downstairs. Or better yet, sell it on the Internet to fund some research. It might bring in some drachma.”

  “Jethro, this is serious,” Langmore insisted.

  “Yes, I know it is, but be quiet now. I’m just finishing the final section of my essay, The Morality of a Machine. This is one of the last moments I'll get to write in peace, possibly for years.”

  Langmore opened the A10 letter and read the contents aloud. Jethro tensed up, staring at his computer screen, but not registering anything he saw. He was carefully listening to the semantics of the letter's language, hoping there might be another way.

  There was not.

  “Well, there you go,” Langmore said after reading it.

  “Yes, it’s inevitable now—war.”

  “So, how will we proceed?”

  “I’m going to go to America to offer my surrender terms.”

  “Huh? What!?”

  “Oliver, Burton, and you will be left in charge while I'm gone.”

  “That’s absolutely insane. Are you serious?”

  Jethro stood up, stretched, and walked towards a hot pot of coffee—a permanent fixture in his living room. He held it up and offered some to Langmore.

  “No way. Not what my nerves need at this moment.”

  Jethro poured himself a cup and took a large gulp. Meditatively, he looked at the sea through the apartment’s immense windows. He was tired, and all he really wanted to do was finish writing his latest paper and enjoy the last few moments of peace on Transhumania.

  Langmore blurted out, “They could kidnap you, kill you—anything.”

  “Yes, I imagine that's the point,” Jethro said, his thoughts shifting to Zoe Bach for an instant. Then he even questioned the nature of death, what became of her, and how soon he could find out.

  “Are you sure, Jethro?”

  “Yes, I am. And I understand your concern, Preston. But if they do anything stupid, it will give us ample provocation to go to war and send out the four aircraft.”

  “Do you need ample provocation?”

  “No, of course not,” Jethro said quietly, full of diplomacy. “Nonetheless, we should try to be cognizant of the fact that everyone in the world—and I mean everyone—will be watching us. The course of history will be fundamentally transformed. We don’t want to be interpreted as implacable aggressors. That's important to me. That's important to the future of greater Transhumania and the new scientists who may join it. That much I can give them.”

  “More human than I thought, now that missiles are being armed and pointed,” Langmore said.

  “Far from it. Just posterity I'm thinking of, Preston. We'll have seven continents with billions of people to manage. It's going to be a lot more complicated than running a city full of well-mannered, over-educated scientists, all striving for the same goals.”

  Three weeks later, an arrangement was made for Jethro Knights to meet with the A10 at the United Nations Headquarters in New York City. Top leaders and diplomats of each country flew in for the assembly. It was assumed Jethro wanted to negotiate or offer his nation’s conditional surrender so that Transhumania might be able to continue its scientific missions. The A10 coalition, over days of teleconferencing and tense backroom meetings with each other, tentatively agreed to a negotiated surrender. Nevertheless, each wanted the technologies Transhumania had invented, specifically those that were military-related, and none could agree how that would be shared or distributed amongst each other.

  Reverend Belinas knew something was awry with Jethro's visit to New York City. He doubted Jethro would ever surrender, even conditionally. Regardless, he was adamant that only the United States broker a deal with Transhumania. And that if any deal were made, America would retain majority control of the floating city since Jethro Knights was, in theory, still a U.S. citizen. He convinced the U.S. President and Senator Michaelson to insist on the same, expounding how America could not afford to let Transhumania's discoveries blossom in other nations.

  By the time Jethro showed up in New York City, feuds over who ultimately would control and monitor Transhumania were raging between the most powerful A10 countries. Friendly relations and cooperation between the allied nations were severely compromised. They were all blind to the real reason Jethro was coming.

  ************

  Behind locked doors at the A10 assembly in the United Nation's legendary Summit Chamber in New York City—a massive hall designed for the most urgent international occasions—Senator Gregory Michaelson stood at a podium reading the charges levied against Transhumania. The A10 had designated him as the lead spokesperson of the meeting. The seated dignitaries of various countries formed a thirty-meter-long arch around the podium. Jethro Knights, wearing faded jeans and a gray, Transhumanian-made, bio-monitoring T-shirt, sat in the middle as if he were on trial. A small bronze plaque bearing the name “Transhumania” was in front of him atop his desk. The configuration of the assembly reminded him of the town hall forum at Victoria University years ago. Noticeably absent, though, were all media. The A10 wanted to keep negotiations, except for the final result, strictly out of the public eye.

  Gregory delivered a long accusatory speech of many carefully crafted sentences, describing the dangerous ethical conflict between the human race and Transhumania's research. He spoke of the perils of too many veteran nuclear scientists working together in one isolated city; of medical researchers pushing the bounds of the human body and mind with no outside, authoritative regulation; of the need for civilization to be led by a higher power that protects us from our own greed, our own darkness, and our own imperfect selves.

  Gregory made the additional point that if Transhumania’s medical advancements, cures, and vaccines were to be openly shared with the world, then the tiny city might be allowed more normal provisions and a reasonable measure of independence. He continued, offering that Transhumania might even be welcomed back into the global community as a recognized sovereign state—of course, only after a lengthy period of strict adherence to universal human rights, rules of democracy, and custom-tailored U.N. dictates—which would include security monitoring of the nation. At the end of the Senator's speech, clapping ensued by the A10 politicians and their dignitaries.

  Jethro Knights found their enthusiasm so ridiculous it was almost amusing. How do buffoons like these ever get into power, he wondered? When it was his turn to speak, he rose from his desk and confidently strode up to the podium. He passed Gregory in the aisle and neither greeted nor looked at him. Gregory eyed him disdainfully.

  At the podium, Jethro introduced himself and proceeded to commend his aggressors for allowing him the opportunity to speak. He especially emphasized his gratitude for being able to state his terms live to the world, because he wanted everyone in the Summit Chamber to know that his speech—through technology that only Transhumania could develop—was being transmitted across the planet’s airwaves. Transhumania's satellite-filming technology recorded heat-sensing imagery and worked through all basic building materials, including concrete, wood, and steel. The data feed was then encoded back into a watchable color image, and downloaded onto the Internet and into television channel servers all over the world.

  Each A10 member looked around the huge hall for cameras, for journalists, for any sign of the press. None were visible. The contents of the meeting were supposed to be highly secretive and confidential. Jethro smiled, shaking his head, briefly chuckling at how naïve they were. Super-apes, he thought to himself.

  Then he turned ghostly serious.

  “Countries of the world and politicians who lead them, you have stated your terms for the surrender of Transhumania. As leader and founder of my nation, I have come here to tell you that we firmly decline your offer.

  “You have stated that if we do not surrender, then you will use military power to accomplish your goals and declare a state of war a
gainst us. We accept your declaration of war. I hereby make it official: We are now at war.

  “With that, I have come here to accept your unconditional surrender, of all your nations and governments as a whole, without any bloodshed. If you do not accept, then my country will forcefully take over your nations and transform them into a greater Transhumania. We have the technology and weaponry to do so, and if you don’t believe it, you soon will—by your blood, fear, and suffering, as well as your worldwide humiliation.

  “We will begin by destroying every major religious symbol and every major political institution on Earth. If you force us, we will continue our plight until every one of you is left homeless, hungry, abandoned, and disgraced. Until your cities are in utter chaos. We will shut down the world. We will halt its economies, its governments, its abilities to enforce laws. We will send you back into the Dark Ages. If there is still more resistance that deliberately hinders or interferes with goals of transhumanism, we will eliminate you—each and every one of you who defies us. We will implement a systematic humanicide.

  “My country and I are after extreme life enhancement, our own personal immortality, and in creating a far more advanced, rational, and spectacular future for our planet. Many of you are useless to us right now and are therefore completely dispensable. We have the power, and we will methodically use it to destroy any force that purposely stands in the way of our transhuman mission.”

  As Jethro's short, explosive speech neared its close, cell phones of the leaders and diplomats began vibrating and ringing. Beeps and chirps from incoming texts and new emails were heard throughout the room.

  Jethro raised his voice determinedly. “We have a transitional map for the world to follow if and when you surrender. We are willing to accept those of you who are not with us now to join our effort and help our cause. We encourage this. But to join us you must produce value for us. You must support and augment our mission. You cannot be a parasite. You cannot live off Transhumania. Or off our intellect. Or off our hard work. Or off our courage. Or off our life-changing ideas. You cannot be some useless impediment in our way. We will not accept weak, irrelevant individuals who do not contribute. You must become one of us. You must become productive transhumanists.

  “We are moving towards a new epoch, one in which what it means to be a living human entity on Earth will change greatly from past interpretations. Soon, being human will mean little. Everything will be transhuman. I hope you will find the strength and wisdom in yourselves to make the right decisions for your best, most advanced future.”

  The speech was over in less than two minutes, before leaders of the world even had time to consider what a worldwide broadcast meant to them. Now every cell phone and pager in the room sounded. Senator Michaelson's top aide confirmed to him in a text what Jethro had said: Media networks around the world had tuned in and were airing the speech everywhere. The live news feed was emanating from the Transhumania News Network in the Pacific Ocean.

  Just outside the Summit Chamber, scores of diplomats and high-ranking military officers stood flabbergasted, watching a television on the wall. IMN was broadcasting the entire meeting. One aggressive, three-star American general turned from the television and loudly broke into the assembly room with four armed soldiers. He walked directly up to the President of the United States and said, “With your permission, Sir, if we are now at war, then let us arrest this man, Jethro Knights—this so-called tyrant of Transhumania. He will become our first prisoner. He has just broken international law, as well as the sacred code of international diplomacy, by making classified information public to the entire world. It’s blatant treason, Mr. President. He has jeopardized the confidential interests of the United States of America and all other A10 nations on his own. His punishment will be a harsh lesson of reality for the rest of the foolhardy transhumanists.”

  Heatedly, the President looked at Senator Michaelson, then at the other A10 members, then at his phone—still buzzing from an incoming call by the U.S. Secretary of Defense. Every politician in the Summit Chamber was stung deeply by Jethro’s egotistical speech. The transhumanist had succeeded in badly humiliating them publicly. Already, each politician was wondering how this would play out with their constituencies, for their political parties, and in the next elections. Their exasperation was raw.

  The Chinese President stood up and pointed at Jethro Knights. “Yes, let us arrest this traitor of humanity, this wizard of spells.”

  The Russian Prime Minister, already standing, shouted in a thick accent, “Agreed! Arrest Jethro Knights now. Let us rain down our missiles on this tiny, arrogant transhuman city if they want to fight us, if they choose to defy us so openly in front of our own people. They are a danger and a menace to the human race.”

  The U.S. President looked at the other seven international representatives. Each one decisively gave their consent.

  “It is agreed then, General,” the President said. “We are at war with this criminal and with the nation of Transhumania. You have our permission and authority to arrest him.”

  The general, Reverend Belinas’ close friend, approached Jethro. His four soldiers moved to surround the transhumanist, their hands on their pistols.

  “Jethro Knights,” announced the general, “you are under arrest, by the power vested in the Charter of the United Nations and its statutes, in accordance with the Constitution of the United States and the Geneva Convention.”

  “Proceed then,” Jethro said, nodding.

  The men handcuffed Jethro and escorted him out of the Summit Chamber. Instead of taking him towards the main entrance to exit the building, the soldiers aggressively diverted him down a long hallway to his left. Gregory watched, knowing what was about to happen. Reverend Belinas waited in the shadows with his two black-clad bodyguards. The three men stepped in behind the military entourage as they walked by. The preacher quietly instructed the soldiers where to take the prisoner. They followed his orders and descended a long flight of stairs towards an underground basement.

  Chapter 29

  It was murky and cold when Jethro Knights came back into consciousness. His head was sweltering and bleeding, the result of a rifle butt slammed into his skull. His bio-monitoring T-shirt had been ripped off, leaving him bare-chested.

  “Where am I?” Jethro asked a shadowy figure standing behind a glaring spotlight.

  “Somewhere no one knows, or is ever going to know.”

  Partly blinded by the light, Jethro stared at the figure inquisitively. He wondered if the person had missed the U.N. Assembly and the publicity. The expression on Jethro’s face said, Don't you know who I am, you idiot?

  Reverend Belinas sneered. “Oh, don’t think I would be so careless, Mr. Knights. No one can hear you or find you in here. You are in a lead-lined transport with light minutia built in. Signals can’t get through, and if they do, they bounce off confused. Your rescue team might end up looking for you in Antarctica.”

  “Lead and light minutia?” Jethro chuckled softly, feeling he was being driven somewhere from the vibration underneath him. He looked more closely, his eyes focusing on the figure behind the light. He recognized the famous reverend in the white gown. “Is that the best you can do, preacher?”

  Belinas looked sternly at his bodyguard sitting next to him, then nudged his head at Jethro. The guard grunted, and in one quick motion he rammed the butt of his gun into the prisoner’s forehead. Jethro’s skull stung from the pain as he slowly succumbed to unconsciousness again.

  Aggravated, Belinas turned to his other bodyguard and ordered, “Tell the soldiers to speed up. We need to make it to the base as quickly as possible now. They may have a read on us.”

  ************

  “What do you mean you goddamn lost him?” Preston Langmore yelled at Transhumania’s lead computer engineer.

  No one on the seasteading city had ever seen Dr. Langmore lose his temper before.

  “Just for a moment, sir, until our computers reconfigure. Whoeve
r has Mr. Knights is purposely causing some type of signal interference with his location. We’ll get him back in thirty to sixty seconds.”

  The first Hyper-scram aircraft, named Trano, loaded with three robots, had departed a half hour before and was now flying seventy-five feet above the Gulf of Mexico at Mach 22—the fastest recorded flight in history. The plane and its mission were being monitored by over 250 personnel in the expansive Transhumania Defense Command Center, on the fifty-first floor of the Technology Tower. The rows of engineers made it look like a NASA space shuttle launch was imminent. In front of the men and women were dozens of consoles and computer screens showing live video and data feeds, some streaming views from the robot's single-eye camera vision system.

  “How long before Trano is in the area of the convoy?” Langmore asked, pacing like a caged tiger.

  Oliver Mbaye turned to him and answered calmly, “Ten minutes and eighteen seconds. We’re entering American airspace now.”

  “He could be dead in ten minutes and eighteen seconds.”

  “There he is—he’s back,” said a young engineer. “And his vital signs are returning to normal, sir. The chip signal is yellow. It’s picking up everything. It’s fantastic. It blinks yellow when his heart rate is normal, orange when it’s elevated, and red when it’s dangerously elevated.”

  At least something was going right, Langmore thought. Jethro Knights, as well as 500 other scientists on Transhumania, had undergone microchip implantation last year, after first-stage testing showed no incompatibilities or negative effects with the brain’s synaptic nerve system. The chip, which was integrated into the back of the skull, served as a recording and recognition data device capable of being globally tracked by Transhumanian supercomputers. It also monitored the body's vital signs through blood flow, body temperature, and electrolyte count.