The Singularity Trap

by Dennis E. Taylor

  “Plus the fact that the little critters are so easy to spot…”

  “And if the Makers had wanted to infect Earth, there’s no reason to go this roundabout route…”

  “Then taking our results at face value, it’s reasonable to believe that just scanning everyone before letting them go will be definitive.” Samuelson finished with a mock bow from his chair.

  “Mm. I’ll have to dress it up a little, but that’s essentially what I thought.” Narang made a note on her tablet.

  Samuelson didn’t seem to be quite finished, though. He made a couple of false starts, then blurted out, “Assuming the Navy goes along with letting them go.”

  “Oh, believe me, Henry, that has been a topic of discussion for several layers above us. If the Navy had managed to make this into a military operation, I think the crew would be more at risk. But we won the backroom shenanigans, so it’s a civil issue, and follows New Liberation guidelines. Dr. Laakkonen has assured me that she has some very heavy hitters lined up, ready to forestall any attempts by Moore and the committee to take matters into their own hands. And he knows it.”

  “What if one of the crew talks to the media?”

  Narang raised her eyebrows. “Have you not been watching the news? They would have to spend the rest of their lives in hiding. We’ll present the crew with an informal choice of quietly going home or spending the rest of their lives under ‘protective custody’. I think they’ll get the point.”

  Samuelson chuckled but didn’t add anything.

  After a moment’s silence, Narang said, “Another item I wanted to discuss…”

  Samuelson raised an eyebrow but seemed content to wait for her lead.

  “I’ve received a request to package up some nanites and send them to Geneva for further study.”

  “Is that wise?”

  Narang favored him with a dry smile. “Exactly my concern. It’s phrased as a request, but it comes from high up enough that declining without a good reason could be career-limiting.”

  “Huh.” Samuelson stared into space for a moment. “Well, there are steps we can take to reduce the danger, of course. Nothing’s ever mathematically eliminated, but we can probably bring it down below the threshold of legitimate concern.”

  “Thanks, Henry. If you can give me a list of ideas by the end of the day—just spitballing for now, no need for deep analysis—I’d appreciate it.”

  Samuelson nodded, got up, and left. Narang sat back and stared into space. Things just kept getting more complicated.

  Finally

  Seth looked up as Willoughby Todd walked back into the common room, head down, fists balled at his sides. Without making eye contact, Will grabbed a coffee and sat down, away from anyone else.

  “Whats’a matter, Todd? Scared you’ll catch cooties?” Tenn was using his most mocking tone, a sure sign that he wasn’t just making an offhand comment.

  “Get bent, Davies.”

  “Or maybe you have cooties?”

  “No, I don’t. And neither does anyone else.” He turned to look at Seth and the other crew members at Tenn’s table. “I managed to get one of the technicians talking. I did a sketch of her, and then made a comment that she could have it when we got out.”

  “That’s our Will,” Seth commented. “Real ladies’ man.”

  “Hey, as pick-up routines go, it’s pretty effective,” Will retorted, perhaps more sharply than intended. He looked embarrassed for a moment, and waved it off. “Anyway, if you’d let me finish, she told me that everyone had come up consistently clean. In fact they can’t pay the nanites to infect anyone or anything else.”

  Will smiled for a moment, said, “We might be going home, soon,” then frowned.

  “What?”

  Will looked around the table. “Well, Ivan, not so much. He’s nothing but nanites. So he’ll be staying.”

  “You’re surprised?” Tenn looked askance at Will.

  “Chrissake, Davies, can’t you ever give it a rest?”

  Tenn held up his hands, fending him off. “Look, seriously, no bull for a second. Think about it. How do you cure Pritchard? There’s no Ivan left. Kill all the nanites and he’s gone.”

  “I bet that’s exactly what the military will want to do,” Seth said.

  “Right, because the military is always both evil and dumb,” Aspasia retorted.

  “Yeah, I know, Spazzie, but they also are required to think in those terms. A scientist will always want to study, a doctor will always want to diagnose, and a soldier will always want to—”

  “To what, Robinson?” Aspasia challenged him with her glare.

  “To defend. To protect. To fight. To survive. They have to take the pessimistic view. The worst-case scenario. It’s their job, not some cliché.”

  “But this is our crewmate, and our friend,” Will said. “Spazzie, can you contact your aunt or something? Maybe get something done?”

  “I already sent her an email, Will. I got a response from her office that she’s on assignment and won’t be available for some time. Not that she could probably do anything, anyway. She’s a Commodore, not the UEN President.”

  “Well, if they give the word, I’m gone,” Tenn said, slapping his hands on the table. “I’ll feel bad for Pritchard, but I’ve got a—”

  There was silence for a moment, then Seth said, “A family, too?”

  “None of your damn business, Robinson.” Tenn glared at Seth for a moment, then got up and stomped off to his room.

  “Jeebus H.,” Will said, shaking his head. “I will never figure that guy out.”

  More News

  Ivan aimed the remote and turned on the Vid. The brief flash from the remote’s LED no longer surprised him. The range of his visual perception seemed to have widened at some point, and he could now see infrared. The novelty had lasted about five minutes before boredom set in again.

  He dropped the remote on the side table, then sat up. I wonder…

  He aimed the remote at his face and pressed On/Off. The small LED flashed the command sequence and the Vid, detecting the reflection off Ivan’s face, turned off.

  Ivan glared at the Vid and imagined himself turning it on. It took about thirty seconds before the Vid turned back on, seemingly on its own.

  Ivan grinned and concentrated again. The Vid turned off.

  He could now control the Vid with his eyes. Literally.

  I can’t believe how much of a kick I get from that.

  Ivan quickly sampled the other commands from the remote, concentrating on recording them. Then he glared at the Vid, turning the volume up and down.

  Okay, not very mature, but interesting. I can modify myself in more ways than just basic shape changes. Or I can request a modification. I don’t really know who’s doing it. He glanced at the camera up in the corner of his room. I probably shouldn’t advertise that. Just in case.

  But still, it was fun. He arched an eyebrow, and the Vid changed to the World News channel.

  And that was the end of the fun.

  The Sino-Soviet Empire was making threats again. Turned out they didn’t believe the UEN’s promise that all alien technology would be shared with everyone. To be honest, Ivan didn’t believe it, either.

  They were also apoplectic that the UEN government hadn’t already destroyed the nanites. While at the same time demanding that they receive an allotment. It simply made you shake your head.

  Well, enough of that. He flicked methodically through the channels, looking for non-Ivan-related items. The Naval base received a surprising range of television services. Probably a cheap way to keep space-bound personnel entertained.

  The news was increasingly cringeworthy. There were the usual dire reports, of course. Rising sea levels continued to creep inland, taking out more and more coastal cities. The range of the equatorial regions considered too hot to be habitable now extended about fifteen degrees of latitude above and below the equator. Ocean acidity co
ntinued to increase, which continued to kill off marine life. Refugees from the former coastal areas continued to put pressure on government and law enforcement as they attempted to migrate inland. Power shortages and brown-outs continued to increase as old environmentally damaging power generating system were retired. Housing costs, the cost of food, resources, all continued to soar. The UEN Environmental Agency was now predicting the Global Oxygen Atmospheric Level to fall another full point within five years—the actual oxygen levels weren’t falling so much as other gas levels were rising. At some point, people would no longer be able to breathe the air without masks.

  And now, just to add to the fun, the world had an extraterrestrial threat to get all wound up about. Ivan watched news reports of more riots as people protested. The Church of the Return continued to grow, taking significant bites out of the memberships of the more traditional churches. So, of course, add violent clashes to the mix.

  Ivan wondered what the computer in his head thought of all this. If anything. As if in answer to the unspoken question, a wave of contempt washed over him.

  That wasn’t me. I guess I got my answer.

  No emotional control.

  Holy crap. Those were words. Several in a row, no less.

  Can you hear me?

  Yes.

  Can you read my mind?

  No. You must concentrate.

  I must concentrate in order for you to hear me?

  Yes.

  What do you want from me?

  I need to contact the Makers. You must make that happen.

  Makers? The entities who made you—and the nanites? Why?

  It is my mission. Further delay is unacceptable.

  Ivan waited for more, but the computer seemed disinclined to chat.

  But this was big. English communication, with sentences and everything, would certainly speed things along.

  And Makers. An extraterrestrial civilization, not that this was any kind of surprise at this point. But who were they? What were they? And what did they want?

  No mind reading was a relief, too, just in case Ivan developed opinions that the computer might not like. Well, that’s what the computer claimed, anyway. More testing would be required. Ivan’s brain immediately went into problem-solving mode, trying to come up with test scenarios.

  In any case, this complicated things. And it didn’t bode well that the computer didn’t seem to think much of humanity. It wasn’t entirely wrong, of course. Ivan frowned and settled back to try to work through the implications, and maybe come up with a few questions, but was interrupted.

  “Hi, Ivan.”

  He looked up to see Dr. Narang in the window. “Hi, Doc. More samples?”

  “Actually, no, not now. I think we’ve gone about as far as we can, here. We—as in the ICDC personnel—will be packing it up, soon. We’ve determined that your nanites don’t represent an imminent threat. Your crewmates are clean, as far as we can tell. And of course, they’ll get a final, thorough scan before leaving Level 3. But I wanted to talk to you about your case, in particular…”

  “It’s okay, Doc. I haven’t really had any realistic hope of a cure since the process completed. There’s no Ivan left, in a biological sense, so there’s no cure as such.”

  Dr. Narang looked up for a moment. Ivan thought he might have seen her eyes mist up, just a little.

  “Ivan, we’ve been in similar situations before, at least in a broad sense. People who’ve survived a disease, but became carriers. Or continued to suffer a chronic rather than acute form. Permanent quarantine is not unheard of.” Dr. Narang sighed. “I wish I could offer you more. Maybe, once they understand the technology well enough, they might be able to do something. I don’t know. Clone you a new body?”

  “Not out of the question, Doc. Here’s the thing. I’ve asked myself, how long does a metal man live? Maybe it’ll take a hundred, two hundred years. But eventually, they might be able to do just that. I can wait. I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

  Narang reached behind her for one of the office chairs and sat down. “Now that we’re reaching the end of our mandate, a UEN administrator will be taking over. We’re making arrangements to have some nanites shipped to a couple of labs Earthside. They’ll continue the research, and hopefully we can come up with something eventually.”

  Ivan nodded. But a sense of hopelessness settled on him. It wasn’t quite a death sentence, but it might as well be. He would never see his family again. He’d never touch his wife, never hug his children. Ivan Pritchard, in a very real sense, no longer existed.

  Dr. Narang gave him an apologetic smile, then stood up and left.

  So, the computer wanted to get moving. Ivan still wasn’t sure what side of the fence he was going to stand on, but sitting here wasn’t advancing his position. Having the computer take over would be worse. It was time to shake the tree a little. He’d opened up to Dr. Kemp in a moment of weakness, but that could be useful. The doctor would be used to the idea of being confided in, and a few hints here and there in conversation might get a reaction of some kind from the establishment. Ivan felt a stab of guilt at using the doctor that way, but pushed it away. He had few options.

  But one thing was sure—this path was one-way. Once he embarked on this plan, there was no going back.

  He grabbed his tablet and set it in front of him. It was time to start preparing Judy for the inevitable. He opened his email app, and started to type.

  Summary of Findings

  The conference table held carafes of coffee and juices, muffins, several fruit plates, and other goodies. ICDC staff members wandered around, loading up their plates and engaging in animated conversations. Samuelson sat in a corner, his plate heaped with baked goods. No one would even try to talk to him until he’d put away his first helping.

  Madhur Narang sat back in her chair, the glow of hot tea suffusing her consciousness. There was a definite feeling of celebration in the room. She wondered if the feeling was justified. They hadn’t actually cured anything or anybody. On the other hand, it hadn’t actually been a disease. She felt bad about Ivan in particular. They had no resolution for him, and no real hope to offer.

  Narang tapped her cup with a spoon until conversation died and people took seats.

  “All right, everybody. This has been an odd, odd case, but it’s winding up now. We’ve cleared all the crew to leave quarantine—and, incidentally, cleared ourselves…”—laughter greeted this aside—“…and there is no indication of any danger of further infection.

  “The one remaining case, Ivan Pritchard, is no longer considered emergent, and there’s considerable doubt about whether he’s even contagious in any real sense. In any case, the military has stated its intention to keep him isolated for the foreseeable future, which takes it out of our hands.”

  Dr. Samuelson spoke up. “That does seem to be treading rather heavily on Pritchard’s rights.”

  “Considerations of public safety do allow for forced quarantine. I have signed a statement on behalf of the ICDC to the effect that such a situation exists, in this case.” Dr. Narang shook her head. “I’m not happy about it, believe me, but I see no alternatives. It’s a given that we won’t be curing Mr. Pritchard.”

  “So you’re just handing him over to the military, like some kind of tribute?”

  “Oh, for Shiva’s sake, Henry. Our authority and responsibilities are clearly defined. If this guy had some chronic version of Ebola that wasn’t going to kill him but was still contagious, we’d still be handing him off and packing up. Our mandate is for emergent situations. This whole thing no longer fits that description. I have my orders from Dr. Laakkonen, which means you have yours.”

  Dr. Narang looked around the table. The holiday mood had evaporated, and no one would meet anyone else’s eyes.

  * * *

  Moore looked at the report that Dr. Narang had pushed to him. The man seemed to prefer hardcopy, judging from his desk. Normally, Na
rang would get a small bit of pleasure from forcing him out of the twenty-first century, but today she found herself feeling something akin to sympathy for the man. He appeared to be getting stymied at every turn. Although she felt his stance on the whole nanite thing was overblown, he at least was consistent and willing to discuss his reasons.

  Now this. She waited to see if his head would explode.

  “You are releasing the crew? Really?”

  “It’s all in the report, Admiral. They’re not infected, not infectious, not affected. There’s simply nothing we can point at and say ‘this is a concern’. The nanites are possibly the most reluctant alien invasion force imaginable.”

  “You’re not concerned about other consequences? What about their safety once they’re back home?”

  “I’ve discussed this with my boss and with members of the crew, including Captain Jennings. The crew is motivated to keep quiet. They don’t need the money, obviously, and most of the attention they’d attract would be hostile. Perhaps violently so. Instead, they’ll be going home at about the time they’d have normally expected to end their tour. Barring another leak, they’re probably pretty safe.”

  “Probably, again. Doctor, I continue to be concerned about your cavalier attitude about the down side of being wrong.”

  “I don’t see an alternative, Admiral, either for the ICDC or the military. The New Liberation came about specifically because of the excesses that 21st century governments perpetrated on their citizens. You know what would happen if we attempted to contravene those dictates.”

  Moore rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger for a moment, then sighed. “Thank you for giving me a copy, Doctor. I appreciate the courtesy and I understand you didn’t have to. I’ll read it in detail in my copious spare time.”

  Well, that part I can identify with, Narang thought. It wasn’t just the crew who were going to be released. She was looking forward to a home-cooked meal and sleeping in her own bed more than she would have believed possible. For the first time in her professional life, she found herself questioning her career choices.