Evolution 2.0: The Singularity is Here

by Richard Childers

  The weather was fine for the three weeks it took us to get back to San Francisco and we often just lounged in the sun as we enjoyed the experience of sailing across the waves in one on the most beautiful sailboats ever built. Our meals were superb and Fincher’s stock of fine liquor seemed endless. I continued to work out every day with Rick Finklestein and several of the other soldiers. This daily workout had just become part of my daily routine.

  “I talked with Claire and Lee most every day over our satellite phone system and they were busy putting the myriad of parts in place we would need to get so many of us under headsets. Sanci was ecstatic that she was soon to have so many new brains to roam around in. “It’s better than getting new processors,” she explained.

  Claire informed me that my new arm was almost ready for me to try. She figured that we could give it a try within a couple of weeks of our return. The stage was set for the next act in our play. The only problem was, we didn’t have a script. We argued endlessly about how to respond to the Chinese threat. And we were no closer to a solution than we were when we started. And then, one day during a rather fruitless discussion when all we do was find fault with all our ideas, Sanci surprised us with a new approach.

  “Hey, I was watching an old episode of The Little Rascals and Alfalfa said something to Spanky…”

  “Who the hell are Alfalfa and Spanky?” I interrupted her to ask.

  Fincher looked at me in amazement. “You never heard of Alfalfa and Spanky? Your cultural education is sadly lacking. They are characters in an old television series. Please forgive this buffoon Sanci and continue with what you were saying.”

  “I like the Little Rascals,” Sanci said defensively. “Anyway, Alfalfa said something about the Golden Rule. You know, do unto others as you would have them do unto you. And it got me to thinking. What if I could spoof this Chinese virus and turn it against China?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I said.

  “Well, instead of having it shut the US power grid down, have it shut down the Chinese power grid instead. Instead of fucking with the US nuclear power plants, do it to theirs.”

  “Wouldn’t they see that happening before we could effect it?”

  “Not really. I could rig it so it looked to them like everything was proceeding as planned. They wouldn’t know what was happening until it was too late. What do you think?”

  “It just might work. It would certainly teach them a lesson,” Fincher said.

  “It would but it would be as a result of the total destruction China,” An Bo said. “I couldn’t be a part of that.”

  “Well I could,” Hu Fang interjected. “I wouldn’t want to but I could. After all, it’s what they planned to do to the United States.”

  “Maybe we don’t have to destroy China to accomplish this. What if the shutdowns were temporary? Sanci, would it be possible for you to control these effects?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Sanci answered.

  “What if we figured out a way to initiate a general strike as everything shuts down?” Shirley asked. “A strike led by the progressive movement? The infrastructure shutdowns would last until the militant faction was banished and the new progressive democratic leaders were placed in control. Then all would return to normal and the new leaders would get all the credit. Would that be possible to pull off?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “What do you think Sanci? Is it possible?”

  “It might be. That’s an awful lot of variables to control and a lot of unpredictable social reaction to try to predict. But it might work. It’s certainly worth examining this scenario with a critical eye. I can run some simulations and see how they turn out.”

  “It’s the perfect solution if we can pull it off. Why don’t we focus on this plan and see what we come up with.”

  Nobody had any better ideas so we began to flesh this one out. It was at this point that I remember thinking that saving the world was a very scary proposition.

  As I lay in my stateroom a little later that same evening I was surprised to hear from Claire. “Hey Boss, you enjoying your cruise? We got tired of waiting for you so Lee installed my implants yesterday. This is really cool! My control is a little rough but Sanci has been working with me to make it better. She says she learned a lot from working things out with you.”

  “So you’re fully operative?” I asked. “I’m surprised Sanci didn’t say anything to me.”

  “I asked her not to. I wanted to surprise you. She tells me we’re going to have a whole bunch more folks rattling around in our brains in a few more weeks. Are you sure we’re ready for that?” Claire asked.

  “No but I do believe it’s necessary. Did Sanci fill you in on the Chinese threat?”

  “Yea but I wonder if this is something that is imminent or is just something that is being contemplated as a possible course of action, a contingency plan so to speak.”

  “I wish I knew the answer to that question. But if we sit on our thumbs and they do launch an attack, I couldn’t live with myself.”

  “Have you contemplated telling the government about all this? It seems to me that this is not really our problem,” Claire said pointedly.

  “I would if I thought I could do it without getting arrested or having Sanci nabbed by our militant secret agencies. I’m out of my element here but Fincher is sure that, at the very least, they would figure out how to gut Sanci’s abilities. Bob believes that she would scare the crap out of the National Security type guys and I am afraid he’s right. I can’t take that chance. Sanci is part of me now, she’s family.”

  “Yea, I know,” Claire agreed. “I feel the same way. So what do we do?”

  “We’re just going to have to figure out how to stop them if they do attack us. Sanci came up with a pretty good strategy and we’re trying to figure out how to implement it.”

  “Yea, she told me about the Alfalfa option.”

  “The Alfalfa Option?” I stammered.

  “That’s what she’s calling it. She has me working with her to define a structure for a phantom militant movement opposed to China’s foreign aggression. It seems like it could work. But what do I know? I write code. And Hell, Sanci is this century’s answer to Dr. Frankenstein’s monster dressed in designer clothes and sporting a rad hairdo. Hardly seems to me to like we’re the spys who came in from the cold.”

  “Well, keep on it and let me know if you come up with anything useful. Not to change the subject, but how are you all coming on building the new headsets? Will they be ready to go when we get back?”

  “The chipsets were a bit of a problem. They were on backorder but I used Bob Fincher’s solution. I threw an obscene amount of money at them and the difficulties disappeared. I guess it’s the American way.”

  “Yep, he who’s got the gold, makes the rules. That’s my Golden Rule.”

  “I don’t think Alfalfa would approve. I can’t really believe that Sanci has me watching old “Little Rascals” episodes on the internet. Did you know that wasn’t the original name?”

  “Yep, they were “Our Gang Comedies” when they first came out. Bob and I watched a few together. Funny stuff.”

  “If they could only teach us something about espionage” Claire quipped.

  “Sanci would say they have.”

  “”Yea, I guess she would. Get some sleep Boss.”

  “Will do. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And congratulations on your implants. Welcome to the future.”

  Chapter 17

  We sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge on a foggy Friday morning, silently passing into a bay that offered tantalizing glimpses of the bridge and surrounding hills through wisps of fog that at times seemed to be wrapped around slender beams of brilliant sunlight. The mood of the setting affected us all as our journey came to an end. The previous day, Fincher had asked me to join him as he took the Min’s to New Mexico for a visit at Shirley MacLaine’s ranch. “I’m not sure why but I think it could be important for you to meet Shirley.�
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  “I’m not sure why. I am only vaguely familiar with her films and certainly couldn’t be classified as a fan.”

  “It’s not about her movies. It’s about her,” Fincher replied. “I’m not impressed with fame but I am in awe of great intelligence and Shirley is one of the smartest people I have ever met. And she has a way of looking at things from a completely unique perspective. I want her to meet Sanci. Indulge me please.”

  “Of course, Bob. If you think I should go, I will go,” I answered.

  “I’ll have one of the vans take us to the jet at Kaiser Air at Oakland Airport. We will be in Santa Fe in a couple of hours. And trust me. A visit to Shirley’s is like an adult version of a trip to Disneyland. You’re never sure what’s in store but you definitely know it will be fun.”

  I said goodbye to Rick Finkelstine and the boys saying, “Listen guys, I really appreciate all your efforts teaching me to defend myself. As a kid, I was the ninety-seven pound weakling in those old TV commercials. But thanks to you, I just might be able to survive a mugging.”

  “You can do more than survive, Colin,” Rick replied. “You’re fast and pretty good on your feet. If you want to keep working out, just let me know.”

  The van pulled up and the Mins, Fincher and I climbed aboard while the driver took what bags we had and placed them in the back. “Dr. Fincher, your assistant gave me three suitcases for the Mins. She tells me they are packed with everything they will need.”

  Hu Fang on hearing this said, “You bought us clothes?”

  As Fincher settled back in his seat he answered, “Yes, Sanci estimated your sizes and I took the liberty of having my assistant pick you up a few things.”

  “You are very kind, Dr. Fincher. I can’t quite believe that we are here in the United States much less that we are about to fly out to the Wild West and meet Shirley MacLaine.”

  “Please, Hu Fang, call me Bob. And the west is no longer such a wild place. Santa Fe is a center of culture and the arts without compare. Their opera is one of the finest in the world. And Shirley’s ranch is hardly roughing it.”

  When we arrived at Kaiser Air, the gate to the field opened automatically and we drove out to the waiting Gulfstream sitting on the tarmac. The pilot, Mike Chandler, greeted us and showed us up the stairs into the luxurious cabin while the copilot placed our bags in the luggage compartment. “Oh my,” Hu Fang said as she looked around the spacious interior. “This is quite nice!”

  “Quite nice,” Shirley exclaimed. “It’s fantastic! Where shall we sit?”

  The pilot smiled and said, “Anywhere you wish. There are restrooms fore and aft and the flight attendant will bring you lunch as soon as we are in the air. There are movies available on the screens in the arms of your seats and the attendant can offer you a variety of reading material as well. We will be flying over the Grand Canyon en route to Santa Fe and if you like I can dip down within the canyon walls to give you a better view.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea, Mike. I’m sure our guests would enjoy that,” Fincher responded. “What’s for lunch?”

  “I picked up a nice selection of Sushi and Dim Sum as well as several salads. I best be getting to the cockpit. Enjoy your flight.”

  As soon as everyone was settled into their seats, we taxied out to the runway and were cleared for takeoff behind a Southwest Airlines flight. As the powerful jet turned onto the runway, I could see Mike advance the throttles through the open cockpit door and the plane accelerated like a Ferrari, pushing us back into the plush leather seats as we lifted into the air and headed east.

  An hour later after a delicious lunch, Mike’s voice came over the intercom, “If you’ll look to the right of the aircraft you can see the Grand Canyon. This gorge carved by the Colorado river over millions of years after the Colorado Plateau was uplifted causing the Colorado River to develop along its present path. The park itself contains more than one million two hundred thousand acres and was officially designated a national park in 1919. We are not allowed to fly within 1500 feet of the canyon’s rim within the park itself so I will take you into the gorge a little west of the park.”

  As we descended from our cruising altitude, what had seemed an impressive landmark far below us quickly became an enormous chasm with vertical rock walls over 6,000 feet high and layered in bands of ochre and red that enveloped us as we gradually eased into the canyon itself. We only remained within the canyon for a few minutes but that experience was utterly mesmerizing as we experienced a geological wonder in very close proximity.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as we rose out of the confinement of the canyon’s walls and ascended once again to our cruising altitude. It was an experience none of us would ever forget, the power of the flight was breathtaking in its intensity. All of us continued to chat about it as we completed our flight to Santa Fe. I was expecting to find a major airport expressing its status as a hub leading to the state’s capital. What I found was an adobe colored structure not much bigger than the private jet facility we had left at Kaiser Air. As we taxied to the terminal I noticed that there were weeds growing out of cracks in the tarmac and a passel of goats calmly chewing on the sparse grass on the other side of a nearby barbed wire fence that separated the airport from the desert beyond.

  Fincher had reserved us a comfortable van and we quickly were on our way, passing through cheap, single story motels and cowboy bars sporting neon signs as we headed toward Santa Fe. All that tawdriness disappeared as soon as we crossed into the city limits and cheap buildings and bright lights were replaced by old graceful adobe buildings with rounded walls and vigas or round wooden beams protruding from the almost uniformly flat roofs. Our driver took us past the plaza where the single story Palace of the Governors, with its covered walkway where local Indians sold jewelry and trinkets from blankets on the walkway. It faced onto a beautiful courtyard filled with trees and a lovely park. As we exited the town of Santa Fe, we passed the Santa Fe Opera house, a truly magnificent open air venue standing on a hill that looked across a wide expanse of pinon covered hills and sagebrush desert landscape. I must say, I found it quite enchanting.

  Our route took us through charming small villages named Tesuque and Pojoaque, across the Rio Grande River and then up the Chama River until we came to a narrow dirt road, oddly named Road 156. This led us through weird grey formations of tufa rock, formed out of volcanic ash piled hundreds of feet deep. We passed through numerous dry creek beds until, at last, we came to a tall gate with a sign that read, Plaza Blanca Ranch. Another quarter mile and we arrived at a cluster of charming buildings sporting red tiled roofs and cozy patios enclosed by low stone walls. As we pulled up to the circular drive, the front door opened and Shirley MacLaine emerged from the house. She was wearing a long velvet Navaho skirt with a loose knobby sweater and a smile that would warm the coldest heart. “Welcome to Plaza Blanca,” she said as she greeted Bob Fincher with a kiss before introducing herself to the Mins. “And you must be Bob’s friends from Shanghai.”

  An Bo shyly shook her hands and Hu Fang looked like she was going to faint as Shirley took her hand and squeezed it in both of hers. “Ms. MacLaine, I feel as if I was in a dream,” she stammered. “For all of my life, I have watched your movies and read your wonderful books. It is an honor. Please, allow me to introduce my daughter, Shirley,” Hu Fang added, pointing to the young woman standing to the side. “She was named after you. I had seen Postcards from the Edge while I was pregnant and it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

  Shirley shook hands with her namesake and said, “I hope that movie didn’t form the basis for your relationship with your mother. I am pleased to meet you and honored to have such a lovely young woman named after me. And you must be Colin,” She added, turning to me. “Bob has told me a lot about you. I hope you live up to your advance billing. I do so love an intelligent man. Please, come into the house. Just leave your bags and Pablo will take them to your rooms. Would you like tea or perhaps something a bit stronger
?”

  We entered into a very wide corridor, perhaps 15 feet in width with a foyer of plastered walls followed by a breezeway with floor to ceiling windows looking out onto charming gardens. The walls in the foyer were hung with an assortment of Shirley’s memorabilia, including framed pictures, many from her films and more of her friends and associates. There were testimonial awards and in the middle of it all hung a plain green uniform and cap emblazoned with a hammer and sickle next to a picture of Shirley and Fidel Castro. Shirley saw me gazing at the uniform and picture and said, “I’ll tell you the story of that if you like but you’ll have to wait until I’ve had more than a few glasses of wine.”

  We spent a lovely afternoon at Shirley’s, relaxing and talking story. Shirley Min asked Pablo to show her the horses and he did better than that. He took her for a ride across much of the 8,000 acres of Plaza Blanca Ranch. When she returned, she was full of stories about spirals. It seems that after discovering a huge boulder covered with Indian petroglyphs in the shape of a spiral, Shirley constructed a large spiral walkway on a nearby hilltop with the paths delineated by rocks gathered from the immediate vicinity. “I find it meditative,” she explained when her namesake asked. We retired to our rooms for an hour before dinner and then sat down to a very New Mexico meal of red chili enchiladas and green chili stew. It was truly delicious.

  After dinner An Bo asked “When we drove up from Santa Fe, we passed an Indian casino a few miles before the turnoff. Would it be possible to visit it?”

  Bob looked at him, his surprise evident as he asked, “You mean tonight?”

  “If it’s not too much to ask,” An Bo answered.

  “I didn’t realize you liked to gamble, but of course if you wish we can take a drive. You want to come with us Shirley?”

  “Sure, why not?” she answered. “To tell you the truth, I’ve driven past a hundred times but I’ve never been inside.”