Mindguard

by Andrei Cherascu

  “An interest in everything, I like that,” Miller said, nodding approvingly. He signaled for the men to have a seat and then noticed that only one of them had a drink in his hand. “You didn’t help yourself to anything, Mr. Ayers?” he asked.

  “No, thank you!”

  “Is there perhaps something else I could get for you, something that was not available in the bar?”

  Ross was sure his partner would once again say ‘no, thank you’ and was very surprised to hear him ask for a Pinot Noir.

  “Wine?” Marcus Miller snapped, looking at Sheldon as if he had just requested a prostitute.

  “You do have wine?!”

  The answer was directed at Horatio, leaving the other Miller brother completely ignored. Again, the host did not seem bothered, though it was clear that his brother was not at all fond of Sheldon. Unfortunately, that was something many of Ross’ clients had in common. Ross wasn’t surprised to see Sheldon acting the way he did. He was a man who instantly made up his mind as to whether or not he liked his interlocutor, and he always acted accordingly. He rarely changed his opinion afterwards.

  “Certainly,” said Horatio, responding to rudeness with courtesy. “But in this case, I think our conversation calls for a change of scenery.”

  ●

  A few minutes later, the four men found themselves in the largest and most impressive wine cellar Ross had ever seen. Tens of thousands of bottles lay arranged according to region; a wine-map of the known universe.

  “This should prove a more comfortable location,” Horatio said, looking at Sheldon’s face in search of a reaction and finding none. Ross was not as adept at hiding his own feelings as his partner; he just shook his head in amazement. ‘Wow’ was all he could muster up. Horatio seemed amused by his reaction but puzzled by his partner’s lack thereof. Meanwhile, Sheldon was absently looking around the room, as if trying to figure out how he had ended up there.

  “So, what shall it be?” Horatio asked. Sheldon thought about it for a few seconds. “Do you have -”

  “Yes!” the Educator answered, before Sheldon had a chance to finish his sentence. Marcus and Ross rewarded the joke with some polite laughter but Sheldon didn’t react. He just walked past his host to the section that read ‘Terra Antiqua’. He appeared to randomly pull out a bottle, though Ross suspected there was nothing random about his partner’s selection. Saying nothing, he handed it to Miller and waited for the man to pour as if he were nothing more than a simple sommelier.

  The businessman presented the most fleeting smile before opening the bottle and pouring into three glasses; his brother politely declined the drink. Ross was just about to start worrying that Sheldon might have offended their host, when his partner picked up the glass, looked Horatio straight in the eyes, nodded and said ‘thank you’ with such unexpected and unbridled honesty that even the composed businessman seemed completely caught off guard. “Uh… have a seat… please,” Horatio said, pointing to a beautiful wooden table with six chairs.

  All the men sat down. They drank their wine and talked for a while about art history, current politics and then religion, when Miller noticed the small golden cross hanging from a chain around Ross’ neck. Miller was not a believer - very few remained in the mostly atheist post-war society - but he was very knowledgeable of the topic and carried none of the resentment that Mac usually sensed in most people. When the conversation slowed down and the second glass of wine had been served, Horatio changed the topic.

  “All right, may we commence?” he asked. It was evident that the businessman within him made a very clear distinction between social interaction and work. “Certainly,“ Ross said, inviting him to speak with a gesture of the hand.

  “The package I need you to guard is of vital importance. I want you to be very aware of that.”

  “Of course,“ Ross answered, trying to convey their serious commitment to the success of every mission and, at the same time, to hint at their vast experience protecting high-level information packages.

  “That would be issue number one,” Miller continued, in a very straightforward manner. “Number two is that I need it carried through the Djago Desert.”

  At the mention of the Djago Desert, Ross’ face revealed a slight twitch; Sheldon’s remained a petrified mask. In space travel, any ‘desert’ was a region outside of the control of the Interstellar Federation of Common Origin. Because of that, telepathy wasn’t at all monitored. Deserts were stretches of space containing planets sunken in postwar anarchy. Mindcrimes were rampant and the survival rate of travelers was virtually non-existent. Ross didn’t know what to say. Miller hadn’t mentioned the Djago Desert when they had first spoken. Sheldon, however, knew exactly what to say: “No!” Miller smiled with confidence, as if he had just been issued a challenge.

  “Now hold on -” Ross said but was abruptly interrupted by his client, who addressed Sheldon directly: “I was led to believe that you have crossed information through level 5 danger zones before.”

  “Only in government-issued missions,” Sheldon said. “We generally avoid it.”

  “You are supposed to be the best.” From his tone, Ross was certain that Miller had just meant Sheldon in particular, but the mindguard responded in plural. “We are,” he said. “Part of what makes us the best is a well developed ability to evaluate risks, in order to avoid foolish ventures. Unless the mission is issued by the government of the IFCO, we don’t access level 5 territories.”

  “Is this a politically backed mission?” Ross asked, trying to help out his potential customer.

  “You could say that,” the businessman answered.

  “No,” Sheldon said. “You need a holorecorded and DNA-encoded dispatch from the Presidential Office. Do you have or can you produce such a document?”

  “That will not be possible,” admitted Marcus Miller, who had thus far remained silent.

  “Then we decline.”

  “No,” Ross said loudly. He cleared his throat. “Not accepting level 5 missions without a dispatch from the Presidential Office is an internal regulation of our company. We can make exceptions, given the proper circumstances. As co-owner and Head of Operations, I decide that this mission qualifies as an exception. We will take the case.”

  “Then I’m out,” Sheldon declared.

  “Perhaps I can convince you to change your mind,” Horatio Miller said. Ross thought his voice sounded odd. He seemed uninvolved, as if he were merely repeating a conversation he had rehearsed in his head many times. “How about a twenty-five percent pay increase?”

  “Money?” Sheldon said. It had been a question but had sounded like a statement. Miller calmly smiled, as though he had foreseen the man’s reaction. Ross was surprised at how composed the businessman was around Sheldon. Something about the mindguard’s demeanor usually made people uneasy.

  “I have access to holosense material that is - let’s say - hard to find on certain planets,” Miller said.

  Ross knew that his partner had understood exactly what the man had meant. He half expected Sheldon to spit in Miller’s face. Instead, he simply said “I’m out, thank you for the wine”. Then, turning to Ross: “Good luck Mac!” He got up and proceeded towards the exit. With the tone of someone announcing a checkmate, Horatio Miller slowly said: “I have unrestricted access to the archives.”

  Sheldon froze in his tracks.

  ●

  When Sheldon turned around, his usually inexpressive face was a mask of disbelief. Like a skilled prizefighter delivering a knockout blow, Miller did not waste a second. “Perhaps I can arrange for the Council to grant you access to your beloved grandfather,” he said, smiling in certain victory.

  Ross didn’t know if Sheldon was going to start yelling and cursing or crying, or if he would attack Miller or run away or perhaps curl up into a fetal position and just rock back and forward. At that moment, all those reactions seemed equally possible. His friend did none of those things.

  “That’s not possible,” Sh
eldon said, struggling to remain calm.

  “I’m sure you can imagine, Mr. Ayers, that I am a very well connected man.”

  “You know what I mean!”

  Sheldon silently looked at Miller for a long time. His stare was so cold that Ross was surprised Horatio didn’t ask his brother to fetch him a sweater.

  “You have, no doubt, heard the rumors,” Miller said. “Now I’m telling you that they are true.”

  Sheldon looked like he wanted to hit the man. Ross could not remember the last time he had seen his partner even remotely angry.

  “You’ve found a way to communicate with the uploaded minds,” Sheldon half whispered. His voice was cold and it sounded hollow; he seemed to be trying very hard to control his anger.

  “To a very modest extent. But it is possible. My company developed an algorithm which enables limited two-sided communication in the form of single-line true/false responses from IDIs – Individual Data Identities.

  “People can communicate with the memories in the archives,” Sheldon said slowly, as if he were formulating an accusation before a court of law, “and you kept the information to yourselves?”

  “Look, Mr. Ayers, it is a very recent breakthrough, still in the early stages of development. I’m sure you understand that access to the memories cannot realistically be made available to everyone.”

  “I’m sure you make it available to yourselves.”

  “Now listen here,” Marcus barked. “If it were not for funding from Mylonas Industries, most of the technology that even makes it possible for the vast quantity of data to be stored in the archives would not even exist. The funds are provided by my brother. Now, if you don’t believe this entitles him to certain privileges offered by the technology he helps to develop, then that is merely your own opinion, Mr. Ayers.”

  “Also,“ Horatio stepped in with an appeasing voice, “at this stage the main priority is developing a faster and more complex method of communication. Our scientists are collaborating with the archive itself to make that possible, hopefully sometime in the next five to ten years. But this can only be achieved if we benefit from discretion.”

  “And people like yourself decide the boundaries of this discretion, Educator Miller?” It was the first time that Sheldon referred to Horatio as ‘Educator’ and it had sounded like an accusation. Ross, who was quietly following the conversation, could no longer remain silent.

  “Enough!”

  He raised his voice at Sheldon, like a father at a misbehaved son. “Listen, Sheldon, you either take the case and get the opportunity to communicate with what’s left of Kinsey’s mind, or you walk away, but you are done splitting hairs and you are done wasting everybody’s time. You got that? Now, what will it be?”

  “All right,” Sheldon said, without even so much as looking at his partner. “Show me to the bathroom,” he ordered Marcus Miller, who unenthusiastically got up and led him out of the cellar, understanding now that the mindguard was a prototech. As if he needed any more reasons to dislike Sheldon, Ross thought. He waited for the two men to exit before confronting his host in private. “You know, I yelled at him but, with all due respect, I should have also yelled at you, Educator.”

  “And why is that?” Miller asked, feigning curiosity.

  “You were way out of line.”

  “Was I?”

  “That is not how you conduct business, Educator.”

  “That is exactly how you conduct business, Mr. Ross. Especially with a man like Sheldon. He must be intercepted like an adversary, he leaves one no other option.”

  “You knew where this was going from the start. You baited him by offering him things you knew he would refuse so that he’d let his guard down. If you had mentioned his grandfather from the start, his anger and resentment might have caused him to impulsively decline. You knew that a man with Sheldon’s pride would never have accepted later on if he had already declined. You manipulated him from the start.”

  “I did. Would he have accepted otherwise?”

  “You have lost his respect, Educator,” Ross said. The whole conversation left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “I don’t care about his respect, Mr. Ross, I want his services. Now, are we free to ‘seal the deal’?” Horatio poured Ross and himself another glass of wine in anticipated celebration. Ross felt like he wanted to empty the whole bottle right over Miller’s head.

  ●

  In Horatio Miller’s luxurious guest bathroom, Sheldon was splashing water on his face from a faucet he figured cost more than his antique violin from Old Earth. That didn’t bother him, but everything else about the situation did. He was going to receive something he would have never thought possible: the opportunity to speak with his grandfather again. Kinsey Ayers - the man who had taught him everything worth knowing, the man he had loved more than anyone else in his life.

  The fact that this opportunity came through a person like Horatio Miller made his skin crawl and his entire body shake with anger. He kept aggressively splashing water on his face, as if he could wash away the frustration and drown out the voice of his conscience, berating him for selling out. Horatio Miller was a man all to accustomed to getting everything he wanted. Another splash of ice cold water, another deep breath.

  He raised his head to look in the mirror, to face the accusation in his eyes. He hated himself for accepting the mission. He hated himself for feeling like he had no choice in the matter. He stared at his reflection for a while, losing himself in the details of his own face, until it became a face he no longer recognized. He took a step back. He had no idea who he was, where he was or how he had gotten there.

  Panic set in instantly.

  Chapter 3

  We are going to emancipate ourselves from mental slavery because whilst others might free the body, none but ourselves can free the mind. Mind is your only ruler, sovereign. The man who is not able to develop and use his mind is bound to be the slave of the other man who uses his mind ...

  Marcus Garvey

  Ross was beginning to worry. He and Miller had just finished the glass of wine meant to ‘seal the deal’ and Sheldon still hadn’t returned from the bathroom. He might have gotten angry, but he was not in the habit of being unprofessional. Perhaps, unhappy with having been manipulated, Sheldon had just up and left - through the transporter and right back to his office. Ross had a hard time believing that. First of all, no matter how upset Sheldon was with Miller, he would never have disrespected his friend by leaving him behind. Second, Ross was sure Miller would have gotten a holosense alert if the mindguard had tried to use the transportation device. In fact, Ross was sure the device didn’t even function without a password from Miller. That begged the question ‘Where the hell is Sheldon?’

  The Educator had prepared an encrypted file that constituted their contract. All it required was a DNA sample from Ross, as Head of Operations.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Ross said, “but I’d like to wait for my partner before I sign this.”

  “Of course,” Miller answered. “Do you think your partner might be unwell? He has been missing for quite a while.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not sure. I’ll go see if I can fetch him, if you don’t mind.”

  “Certainly, I’ll wait for you gentlemen in here, then.”

  Ross used the map of the building - which had been made available to his retinal insertions - to find his way to the ground floor bathroom. He figured that was where Sheldon had gone.

  ●

  Desperately trying to back away from the face in the mirror, Sheldon hit his head on the wall behind him. He was breathing heavily, his eyes were wide and he was drenched in sweat. Staring at him from the mirror was the face of a stranger. The mirror itself could just as well be a window to another room. Sheldon only recognized that it was his own face when he saw on it the look of utter panic and likened it to his own state of mind.

  Yes, it was him, most certainly him, but who was he? He looked around and saw that he found
himself in a bathroom. He searched for any clue that would help him figure out how he might have gotten there and why he couldn’t remember anything. He found nothing. With his face in his hands, moaning like a frightened child, he crouched on the floor, if only to escape the horrified gaze of the face in the mirror.

  He felt his pulse accelerating. A horrible pain seemed to exist in every single cell in his body. It was as if his very mind was hurting. It was all there, all the information about his identity and his whereabouts, but between his mind and that information stood an impenetrable wall of pain.

  He stood up and started screaming. He pounded the walls with his fists. He fell on his knees, rocking back and forth. Everything hurt. The pain and the fear were becoming unbearable. He heard a knock at the door and it snapped him out of his state.

  “Sheldon, are you ok buddy?”

  He recognized the voice - it was his best friend. The voice conjured up a name: Maclaine Ross. With the memory of that name, everything started coming back, including his own. He was Sheldon Ayers, the world’s most accomplished mindguard. He was in the home of Horatio Miller and had come here at Miller’s personal request. Horatio Miller needed his services. In exchange, he had offered to place him in contact with his grandfather’s virtual consciousness. Sheldon stood up and faced the mirror again.

  “Sheldon!” Mac’s voice became impatient. Sheldon heard him test the locked door.

  “Sheldon!”

  ●

  The door opened and Sheldon calmly stepped out. He was pale and he seemed to have sweated abundantly. His gaze was wild and his pupils dilated.

  “Are you all right, man?” Ross asked.

  “Fine,” he said, walking past his friend, paying him no attention.