by Paul Anlee
The room erupted with angry noise; politicians shouted and jabbed their fingers toward the Prime Minister.
She let it play out a couple of minutes; she appreciated the need to vent a little terror and ire before getting down to strategic planning and crisis recovery on a global scale. The sharp rap of the gavel reigned their attention back in.
“On the next outburst, I will clear the room and you can all go home and wait to die,” the PM shouted. Stunned faces gaped at her, but it worked. The meeting room grew quiet again.
“Thank you. I know this is difficult for all of us. But we don’t have time for accusations and recriminations. Humanity needs us now. We must find a way to work together now.”
Her eyes swept around the table, looking for any challengers. For the moment, the objectors fell silent. She stood upright and continued.
“To my right are Drs. Liang and Mahajani, protégés of Dr. Darian Leigh. As you know, Dr. Leigh and another member of his team, Dr. Rusalov, have been missing for the past several months. Sadly, we must assume some sort of foul play in their disappearance, as there has been no communication from them, or anyone having knowledge of their whereabouts, since late January.
“Though less renowned than Dr. Leigh, Dr. Liang and Dr. Mahajani have intelligence-enhancing dendy lattice systems similar to his. Their personal lattices are newer but no less effective.”
This created a stir around the room. The advising scientists, for the most part, had not emphasized this detail to their superiors. The confession of the super-human intelligences of Greg and Kathy clearly grabbed the politicians’ attention. Many of their universities had attempted to recruit Darian Leigh, but he chose to remain in North America.
Now there were two new lattice-enhanced scientists in the world. The possibility one of them might be available caused a spark of excitement in the room. Lattices for memory recall and communications were common in academic communities, but lattice-based enhanced intelligence was unique to Darian Leigh. And now, to Kathy and Greg.
The Prime Minister continued. “Our scientists...,” she paused to add weight to the word Our, “have spent the months since Dr. Leigh’s disappearance, characterizing the Eater in an attempt to understand how to stop it from growing, and how to destroy it.
“They have attained a deeper understanding of the malleability of natural physical laws and how the...” she glanced at the page on the table before her, “the Reality Assertion Field Generator can be used to create tiny universes where those laws are altered.
“Despite their growing understanding of this new and complex physics, they assure me the threat is real, and they do not know yet how to stop it.”
She surveyed the cautiously concerned faces staring back at her. “Your own scientists have been able to confirm the danger the Eater poses to absolutely every bit and kind of matter, energy, and even virtual particles it encounters.” There was nervous laughter at the mention of virtual particles.
She raised her hands in a plea for patience. “I know. I know. I can’t follow any of this either. We have to trust the experts here.”
“Wasn’t it the experts who got us into this mess?” a voice shouted from the middle of the room. PM Hudson managed to contain her scowl.
“Greg and Kathy…,” Greg noted her deliberate shift to the familiar, “...have assured me they can predict with great accuracy that the Eater will consume its isolation chamber in a little over twenty-two-and-a-half years.” Murmurs and some derisive laughter arose from her audience.
“As politicians, many of us are familiar with such predictions. Frequently, the more accurate they appear, the less reliable they are. But, ladies and gentlemen, physics is not economics. Let’s not forget how accurately the equations of physics can predict the motion of the planets and stars, and how accurately they predict the behavior of the sophisticated electronics we take for granted every day.”
“Not to mention climate change,” the French President said.
“That’s an excellent example,” PM Hudson noted. “Twenty years ago, world leaders ignored the models forecasting the consequences of global warming. They were wrong, and scientific consensus was right. Now, many of our nations are combating the dire consequences they predicted. Physics is unavoidable, no matter how much we may dislike its predictions.
“Greg and Kathy have given us serious warnings about a grave threat to humanity, and that threat comes with a deadline. If we don’t heed the warning, our entire world will be gone—completely gone—in fewer than twenty-three years. We are talking about the end of Earth and the end of humanity.”
The room went silent. Pacifica was not the most powerful nation on the planet and some had questioned whether its Prime Minister should be chairing this meeting. Circumstance thrust the responsibility on her, but a good many eyes in the room turned to the more seasoned representatives of various factions and alliances to see if they were convinced of the seriousness of the threat. Some were, Prime Minister Akira of Japan, for example. Others brazenly showed their scorn.
PM Hudson invited Greg and Kathy to stand up.
“Dr. Liang and Dr. Mahajani have prepared an outline as to how the world should prepare for this unprecedented disaster. They will continue to work relentlessly to understand the Eater, to try to stop it before it destroys the planet. However, there is no guarantee that will be possible.
“In the event the microverse can’t be stopped in the time we have remaining—and that is a strong possibility—we’ve created a twenty-year contingency plan to move a significant portion of humanity out of harm’s way. I’ve invited Dr. Liang and Dr. Mahajani here to explain their plan and to answer your questions.”
Before the two scientists could begin, the distinctive voice of the British Prime Minister rose above the din. “With all due respect, you do realize how totally incredible all of this sounds to us? Do you not, Madam Prime Minister?”
“Let me review our situation,” he pressed on before Ms. Hudson could respond. “Some crazy super-scientist created an unstoppable planet-eating device. He and a colleague from his lab then disappear, never to be heard from again. Now, nobody knows what this thing is, how it works, or how to turn it off? And you’re asking us to trust his two mad super-scientist lab mates—who, by the way, may have murdered him for nefarious purposes of their own.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” he snickered, “but that sounds more like a superheroes comic book or a sci-fi movie plot. Maybe we should ask your Superman what to do!”
World leaders and advisors laughed with him. Greg, Kathy, and the PM didn’t even crack a smile.
“I didn’t say they were crazy,” the PM responded, “but other than that, yes, that’s pretty much it. I am convinced, personally and as leader of Pacifica, that the course they recommend is our best, if not only, hope for the future. I implore you to join me in supporting the project they will outline over the next few minutes.” With that, she stopped talking and motioned Greg and Kathy to begin their presentation.
Greg cleared his throat. “Thank you…” he managed to croak. His free hand drifted upward and loosened his tie a touch. He took in the rows of expectant faces scrutinizing him. Don’t be such a putz—he said to himself—you’ve given plenty of talks before. This is just one more. Don’t let them intimidate you. Imagine them all sitting there in their underwear. Lime green thongs oughta do it.
He smiled, and a number of heads bobbed reassuringly, assuming the smile had been offered as a shy apology for the false start. Most of them had been in the hot seat themselves at one time or another, presenting to a tough audience. He cleared his throat and began again.
“Thank you, Madam Prime Minister. Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll ask you to close your eyes and activate your lattices in Visual Mode. Your chairs are all equipped with lattice induction devices; no need to wear your headbands. You will not require audio, tactile, or other inSenses, and may remain in Full Consciousness throughout this presentation. Please feel free to stop me and ask questions at
any time.”
He reached out with his own lattice to connect directly to his audience. As with all G26 meetings, an IT team had arrived ahead of the guests and shielded the room from all outside internet connectivity.
He activated his lattice communications, and was relieved to find the team had done a thorough job. Darian Leigh’s rogue latent memories were still out there somewhere in the web, searching for a way in, and actively trying to invade and reintegrate into his and Kathy’s brains every time they connected to the internet. Thanks to the efficient IT team, he could momentarily relax his constant vigilance.
Greg waited for the leaders and advisers to lean back in their seats, close their eyes and ready themselves.
The less lattice-experienced participants, generally the older set, moved through stiff, awkward checks and adjustments as they interfaced with the induction plates in the headrests.
Greg overlaid a ghost image of the presentation across his own visual field. He activated a local feed and checked the readiness of everyone in the room. The security team kept their lattices isolated from the presentation. Greg could track their activity as they interfaced with hardwired surveillance devices outside the room and communicated with their colleagues posted around the building. If he wanted to, he could listen in on their supposedly secure conversations being broadcast within their segregated lattice net.
He sensed the leaders activating their lattices for external visual input, as if they were watching inSense at home, minus the auditory, tactile and olfactory channels. A few had accidentally gone a bit too far and disconnected their voluntary musculature from conscious motor systems control.
Deep inSense was the standard mode for most entertainments, certainly among the blockbuster full-experience movies raging through Hollywood, Bollywood, and Hong Kong. Greg reached into the lattices of those who had gone Deep, and gently corrected their settings to save them any possible embarrassment at being in such a defenseless state.
One by one, he checked each attendee, preparing the group to properly experience the visuals that would explain the plan he and Kathy had developed over the past few months.
I hope this works—he thought. Both he and Kathy were tempted to just implant what they wanted the group to believe and do.
Kathy had grown particularly adept at mind viruses over the past few months. She discovered she could hack into the mind of anyone with a lattice, echoing their senses and perceptions in a carefully partitioned section of her own brain. With little effort, she could implant false perceptions and memories, new skills, and beliefs. This new ability at once excited and terrified her. She and Greg knew better than to tell anyone about it.
They’d made a practice of mastering their lattice abilities and exploring their limits. They’d find a quiet path in the woods, well away from internet connections, and try to inject one another with harmless conceptual viruses as they walked along hand-in-hand. The goal was to find a way to recognize, block, isolate, and recover from any attempt at changing their core knowledge and beliefs. It was intensely serious play, crucial in their fight to stave off or integrate the flood of thoughts and memories from Darian.
To people they met along the trail, they looked like a pair of leisurely strolling young lovers, entirely engrossed in one another’s presence. Internally, they were engaged in fierce battle, sending wave after wave of attack viruses against their opponent’s defenses.
The practice helped them identify and understand their own minds. They became adept at identifying incompatible ideas and defending against integration with their existing cognitive structures.
It wouldn’t have been too hard to forcibly alter the politicians’ personal conceptual structures—their mental framework of knowledge and beliefs, what Kathy called their “concepta”—and get them simply to agree with the ideas she and Greg were presenting. But it would take time to map and alter each of the twenty-six conceptas around the main table, more time than they had in the presentation.
Besides, what was the point of trying to save humanity if it wasn’t smart enough to help with its own salvation?
The attendee-status check running in the background of his lattice sent Greg an alert.
Whoa! What was that? A pushback surge intruded into his lattice, drawing his full attention. His security barriers snapped up. Kathy? Did you feel that? If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn she just took a concepta swipe at him.
Greg examined the routine checking everyone’s inSense setup. The pushback had occurred at the same moment his algorithm attempted a preliminary intrusion into Reverend LaMontagne’s lattice to verify its readiness.
The couple had been surprised to see the Reverend as a key representative of the New Confederacy at the G-26 panel. In preparing for today’s presentations, they had discussed at length whom the various nations might send. In considering the New Confederacy’s candidates, neither had imagined LaMontagne in the role.
It was an odd choice. The New Confederacy was not so far away and not so politically unstable that they couldn’t have sent President Mitchell. The Japanese, Chinese, and Russians had all thought the meeting important enough to send their leaders. That the New Confederacy chose to send Secretary of State, Virgil Hartland, in Mitchell’s stead was noted by all present, though it wasn’t particularly unusual for the famously paranoid New Confederacy President. One could easily conclude the recent death of Secretary Totts and the ensuing financial crisis had required the President to stay home.
However, the appointment of Reverend Alan LaMontagne as co-representative with Secretary Hartland—a man of God in such an important secular position—was unique among world powers. His role here rankled many of the participants.
Greg focused briefly on the Reverend and sent another interrogatory pulse. It was rebuffed as casually as the first. He was about to make a more concerted third attempt when Kathy intervened—Wait!
The Reverend’s eyes were peacefully closed in preparation for the lattice-fed presentation, but his lips had curled into the barest hint of a smile. It did not escape Greg’s notice.
Kathy caught Greg’s eye. RSA encrypt using the time (HH.MM.SS) you picked me up for our first date—she sent. Greg immediately set up the algorithm.
What was that about?—he asked.
I think the Reverend may have a lattice like ours, one of the intelligence enhancing versions—Kathy said.
His inSense security is stronger than the standard models. Maybe he just got some program upgrades—Greg replied.
That was no upgrade—answered Kathy. I tried to piggyback a deeper query on your check-in routine. He swatted it away like nothing. No inSense system in the world can do that. No, he’s enhanced. I’m sure of it.
But where could he have gotten one of Darian’s lattice viruses?
Maybe he stole it. Maybe Darian gave away some copies.
No, I can’t see him doing that. He would have mentioned it. There is one simple explanation. The only lattice virus capsule unaccounted for is Larry’s. Do you think Larry would’ve given LaMontagne his pill? She sent him a summary of her reasoning, complete with annotated evidence.
What? No way!—Greg argued. Larry would never have given his pill to a religious fundamentalist. Not knowingly. I see why you might think he did, but the evidence is so flimsy, it makes our speculations about the Eater look rock solid. And we know how weak those are.
I agree, it’s weak—Kathy acknowledged. And two-plus-two doesn’t usually add up to seven. But the Reverend brushed us both off like nothing. Even if it was clumsy and more forceful than required, it felt exactly the same as our lattice sparring. His lattice is enhanced like ours, Greg. Like Larry’s would have been. And the only access to that level of lattice technology was through Darian or Larry. There’s no way on Earth Darian would have shared that with the Reverend. You know how he felt about organized religion and its leaders. That only leaves Larry.
Greg had to admit the Reverend’s unnecessarily strong rebuff of a s
imple preparatory exploration was much more forceful than a standard inSense lattice could have managed. Maybe Kathy was right, however outlandish it seemed.
Okay—he sent back—just for the sake of argument, let’s assume you’re right. What do we do with that?
Kathy considered. Well, now he knows we know, so let’s back off and see which side he comes down on—she suggested.
Greg could see no harm in that. Their entire exchange had taken only milliseconds and went unnoticed by everyone except the two of them. And probably the Reverend—Greg surmised.
The addition of a possible third enhanced intelligence, one of unknown and quite possibly hostile sympathies, increased the complexity of the upcoming negotiations considerably. Greg continued checking other participants’ lattice settings and began feeding the prepared presentation. All he could do, for now, was to stay hyper-alert and let the Reverend reveal his intentions to them.
22
Greg narrated the captivating visuals flowing within the lattice-fed perceptions of the G26 leaders, representatives, and advisors of the most powerful nations in the world.
“This is a projection of the end of the world that will take place in a little over twenty-two years,” he began. “Within two days of the Eater reaching the walls of its enclosure, it will consume the entire university and the top of Mount Burnaby.
“A few days later all of Earth’s atmosphere and most of the waters in the ocean will have flowed into the sphere. Except for anyone hiding out in pressurized bunkers, every person on Earth will be dead. Ten days after that, Earth will be consumed entirely, bunkers and all, leaving only a grayish planet-sized sphere behind. Nobody—nothing—will be safe from the sphere. Not anywhere.”
In the inSense simulation, the panel watched the blue Earth, its oceans, and continents, being eclipsed by a dull, gray orb.
“Although the Eater appears to be locked into a specific position relative to our planet, it has no measurable mass. We believe it will remain in stable planetary orbit around the sun. But, without Earth’s gravity, our moon will have to seek out its own solar orbit.”