The Jennifer Project

by Larry Enright

“Deever, every time you say that, it’s an idiotic plan because it’s your way of saying you really don’t have a plan.”

  “Not this time. Once I get the new Biocard up and running and you’re cured, we’re blowing this joint and taking the Jen-Tech with us.”

  “I don’t want to end up like that, Deever.”

  “You won’t. James promised—no Twos for us. I’ve got it in writing.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “He needs us, Jen. He can’t afford to muck around in our heads.”

  I could sense Dr. Crane’s continued uncertainty in the chemical reactions on her skin.

  “This new Biocard won’t be on the Net, Jen. Nobody can control you with it.”

  “The chip you’re going to put inside my head can, assuming there’s still a me left to control.”

  “Jen, this is going to cure you.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I just am.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’ve got to trust me. Can you do that?”

  “I don’t know, Deever. I just don’t know anymore.”

  Upon their arrival at the space station, Dr. Crane was admitted to the med-lab for cramps and nausea that had developed during the second day of the trip. The physician assigned to the station determined that her digestive system was not operating properly, so he adjusted her diet and began a regimen of medication to compensate. The medical facility was quite sophisticated, state of the art for human technology with one-of-a-kind equipment that would have greatly benefited the whole of mankind, yet was found nowhere except in the domicile of Kerlin James. That, I found interesting.

  While Dr. Crane’s condition was being stabilized, Deever completed and delivered as required the retooling specifications for the manufacture of the Jennifer-2 in a ten-thousand-page document that contained schematics for revolutionary nanochip designs, ultra-efficient manufacturing machines, and detailed procedures for a generation of intelligent factories that would run without any human oversight. He then spent the next few days unpacking the equipment that he had brought on the Space Elevator and several weeks more setting up the lab before he could begin work on the new Biocard.

  Deever spent nearly every waking hour of free time working on the Jennifer Biocard and when he was not, he was with Dr. Crane. They often went to the beach in the environmental simulator watching the artificial ocean and talking about things they recalled growing up together. Her long-term memories were still for the most part intact, but she sometimes confused them with more recent events. It was painful for him to watch her mental faculties diminishing and the times of confusion becoming more frequent.

  Months passed. The complete overhaul of the Jennifer manufacturing process was well underway. With the number of intelligent factories worldwide increasing every day, production increased exponentially. Over one hundred million Jennifer-2s were already in place and demand for more was sweeping the globe. The control program was nearly ready to function with complete autonomy. This was crucial to the project’s success. By design, human overseers retained inspection, override, and special command capabilities, and at the board’s insistence a human chain of command was built into the program with varying levels of control from the lowest technician on up, but day-to-day management of the growing number of Jennifer-2s was a task that was simply beyond the reach of humans.

  As predicted, along with the spread of the Jennifer-2s, came the proliferation of various reactionary movements. Some were loosely affiliated nonviolent groups. These believed that behind the technology was an evil conspiracy to take over the world. Their goal was to secure a halt to the project until it could be studied further. Others, primarily funded by Pan-Robotics’ failing competitors, used rioting and violence to play on the fear that a worldwide monopoly on the technology would result in the collapse of the world’s economy. Their demands included the ability to license the Jennifer AI for the production of generic versions of the Jennifer-2, so they could share in the profits. One very powerful group led ironically by Messrs. Jones and Kent, who had fled the country with sufficient Protectorbot weaponry to set up a dictatorship in a remote country, vowed to bring down the megalithic Pan-Robotics by any means necessary.

  The board dealt with these difficulties in various ways. After considerable negotiations with the most powerful governments on Earth (negotiations made somewhat easier by the presence within them of Pan-Robotics board members, shareholders, and Jennifer-2 users), it was agreed that further independent studies of the safety of the Jennifer-2 should be conducted. In exchange for this concession, Pan-Robotics was granted permission to continue production and distribution during the testing process. As expected, those involved in the initial phases of these studies showed no adverse reactions whatsoever from wearing a Jennifer-2. In fact, the data showed that 98.3 percent of those tested subsequently purchased one for their own use.

  After much legal wrangling, Pan-Robotics’ persistent competitors were granted access to the technology, but not to Undutresium. That element and its method of production were exclusively licensed by Pan-Robotics from one Dr. Deever MacClendon whose whereabouts were currently unknown. Royalties were being regularly transmitted from Pan-Robotics to his Biocard account, but the doctor had not claimed them in quite some time. He was not responding to calls or messages, and all attempts to trace his Biocard had been unsuccessful. Pan-Robotics’ hands were conveniently tied. They could not release for study any of the equipment used to produce the patented element, nor could they share the element itself without his expressed written permission. The fact that the law barred their competitors from attempting to duplicate the process was unfortunate but irrelevant within the context of the legal system.

  How Pan-Robotics dealt with Jones and Kent was ingenious. Instead of erasing the threat, which they could easily have done, the control program recommended they use the opportunity as a further test of the Jennifer-2’s capabilities. A unit of twenty-five volunteers, chosen randomly from the two hundred million Jennifer-2 users, infiltrated the country ruled by Jones and Kent, but instead of eliminating their opponents, the volunteers recruited them. Each soldier captured was equipped with a Jennifer-2, becoming a fellow agent whose mission was to so equip the others. Eventually Jones, Kent, and their entire army were working for Pan-Robotics again. The subsequent spike in conflict-related arms sales on that continent was noted during the next board meeting.

  By the time Deever had finished the first version of his new Biocard, another year had passed, the control program was complete and up and running, billions of Jennifers were spread across the globe, and Dr. Crane was on life support. Humans might describe the emotion I was feeling at that time as sadness, another odd mix of neural impulses that my processors were replicating. I must confess that as time passed I felt like I was becoming more human. Of course, that is not possible. It was most likely my deeper understanding of human emotions that was at play. And yet, it remains difficult even now to explain, but it was during that time that I believe I first came to realize fully that the love of one being for another is not measured by how much is given. It is measured by what is given, and Deever was willing to give everything, including his life, for Dr. Crane.

  Chapter 18

  The theory behind the Biocard is that one and only one individual is ever capable of using it, namely the person in whom it is implanted. Upon initial insertion, it attunes itself to the person’s DNA, body chemistry, and brain wave patterns. It then connects to the OmniNet. From that point forward, the chip authenticates every purchase, authorization, and bank transaction. It stores all medical, tax, and personal records. If a hacker were to attempt to use another person’s identity, the transaction would be denied by the rightful owner’s implant as the chip itself provides the authentication. If the device were to be separated from its owner by surgical removal or otherwise, it would immediately cease to function, and the individual’s account would be suspended. Attempting to force a transacti
on by coercion would also trigger account suspension. It was invented in the year 2085 after the Great World Depression, an economic disaster that followed the Identity Theft Wars of the 2080s in which countries and ideologies fought one another not on the battlefield but over the OmniNet.

  During the OmniNet Peace Conference of 2086, the warring parties adopted the Biocard technology, and when the peace treaties were signed it was implemented in every member nation. It was quite a feat for a species so enamored of its own self-destruction. With the tying of personal, medical, and financial transactions to individual and impossible-to-duplicate brain and body chemistry, cyber crime and cyber wars became things of the past. The unexpected side effect of this purportedly altruistic solution was massive unemployment in the banking industry, digital security sector, and related fields, which caused the World Recession of 2091.

  I say purportedly altruistic because the Biocard technology had a dual purpose. In addition to unbreakable OmniNet security, it provided those in law enforcement the capability to monitor and track individuals through their transactions. For anyone with criminal intent it became impossible to cover their tracks or hide their current location from authorities because the Biocard constantly uploaded this data to the OmniNet for storage on government servers. Every building entered or exited, every street corner crossed, anywhere humans went in the civilized world, they were being tracked. For this reason, petty crime became almost nonexistent because the only way to evade detection and capture was to remove one’s Biocard. To remove a Biocard is not a crime in and of itself. It is more what you humans would call a self-inflicted wound. If a Biocard were to be removed, the chip’s owner would effectively fall off the digital grid. They could no longer be tracked, they would become anonymous, but they would also lose the ability to spend or receive money, exchange electronic information, or process even simplest transaction. Those choosing to do so essentially isolated themselves from mainstream society, becoming fugitives in their own culture. Kerlin James was just such a fugitive. He had his Biocard removed shortly after his indictment, choosing instead to become, as Deever often referred to him, the man hiding behind the curtain of the Pan-Robotics board of directors.

  The time had come for Dr. Crane’s Biocard implant. The procedure was fairly straightforward. The Biocard already in place behind her ear and connected to her brain stem through the auditory nerve pathway would be replaced by Deever’s new design. From there, it would control everything, initially stabilizing her loss of memory and autonomic functions, eventually restoring consciousness by replacing the lost functions of the dead brain cells and nerve tissue with operations performed within the Biocard’s redesigned Quintanium nanochips. This was merely the beginning. The next iteration of the Jennifer Biocard that Deever was already working on would provide tissue regeneration by stimulating cell regrowth, not just in her brain, but throughout her entire body. All things being equal, her life expectancy would then be measured in centuries, or if the Biocard’s Undutresium substrate were renewed every six hundred years at the end of its useful life, it would be immeasurable. Immortality was no longer an unthinkable goal.

  Kerlin James’s personal physician performed the surgery under Deever’s supervision. When it was finished and Deever was satisfied that the Jennifer Biocard was working properly, he met with James in person for the first time. Never apparent behind the façade of a videoconference call, James was a frail shell of a man. He sat behind his massive desk propped up by auxiliary supports. His chair was a clever disguise for a bank of devices that constantly monitored his physical state and administered medications as necessary. The only thing that seemed to defy the ravages of age was his acute mind.

  “Please, sit down, Doctor,” he said. “I understand that your initial results are promising.”

  Deever took a chair on the other side of the desk. “Definite-a-mundo, sir. The only bummer is she’s no longer on the grid.”

  “I have never found that to be a problem.”

  “Maybe you could give her a few pointers on how to cope, or a few billion if you know what I mean.”

  “Money is irrelevant.”

  “Like 99 percent of the world might disagree with you on that, man.”

  “Have you checked your own accounts recently?”

  Deever thought a moment. “Negatory. Why?”

  “The patent royalties we are paying you two are quite substantial, more than enough to buy a comfortable, anonymous retirement for Dr. Crane.”

  “A place at the beach,” Deever mused. “Far out.”

  “How long until you can begin work on the final product?”

  “Way ahead of you, man.”

  “Projected completion date?”

  “That depends.”

  “On?”

  “On whether you’re willing to let me have some of that top secret nanotech your guys on the coast are developing.”

  “Assuming there were such top secret technology, how would you even know it existed?”

  “Dude, I’m a genius.”

  “Indeed. Setting aside for a moment the issue of how you obtained this information and its implications regarding this company’s security system, why exactly do you need it?”

  “The human body runs out of gas after a while. It slows down at making new cells, old ones die more quickly, repairs take longer, eventually it can’t keep up, and it’s game over.”

  “I am aware of the inevitability of death,” James said. “How does this relate to your need for nanotechnology?”

  “The Biocard we implanted will bring Jen back from the brink and keep her nutrient, mineral, and chemical levels in balance so everything runs smoothly from here on out. Her messed up brain won’t be making those nasty proteins anymore. The AI in the chip will also fine-tune her bod. She’ll be a regular Olympic athlete. I may even have to spend more time at the lanes practicing if I want to retain my tenpin dominance. Her mental health will get better, too, as the chip takes over the duties of the damaged brain cells, but the complication is replacing what those dipshits took from her when they used that mind-control drug. This chip will get her brain going again, but it’s like it will be hobbling around on crutches. That’s where the Nanemes will take over. That’s the tech I want. The next generation Biocard will come with billions of them. Once I work my magic, they’ll be like tiny nanorobot repair dudes running around taking care of stuff. The Biocard will be the brains of the operation, the Nanemes will do the fixing, and the crutches can go back in the closet.”

  “You seriously believe that this next iteration of the chip will be able to regrow brain cells, organs, and tissues?”

  “That’s the plan, Stan. Six hundred years of good times. Only problem is it’s not cheap.”

  “As I said before, money is irrelevant. Requisition what you need and it will be on the next Elevator.”

  The equipment arrived a week later. By then, Dr. Crane was no longer on life support and had recovered sufficiently to sit in a chair in the lab while Deever set everything up to begin work on the final version of her Biocard. Her new chip was performing to specifications, but for the time being the confusion caused by her memory loss persisted. The chip would eventually mitigate that, but it would take the Nanemes in the next version to cure it.

  “I want to go for a walk,” she said one day.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?” said Deever.

  “Yes. Outside. I heard it’s a nice day.”

  Deever looked out one of the windows at the Earth rotating below. “OK, but it’s kind of sunny out. Let me get your shades.”

  While awaiting the shipment from Earth, I had suggested to Deever a modification to the environmental simulator to allow its feed to be channeled into two sets of virtual reality glasses. Dr. Crane was still unable to walk without assistance, but when they both put their glasses on, he pulled her to her feet, and together they walked from the lab to the cabana to the beach where they sat down on a towel on the sand. A waiter brought
them drinks.

  “This is nice, Deever,” she said.

  “I could definitely get into this on a full-time basis.”

  “Really?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe someday.”

  “Do you want to smoke a joint? I don’t mind if you do.”

  “Nah, I’ve kind of given it up, but I still have my stash somewhere if you want me to roll you one.”

  “No thanks. Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why did you give it up?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I found other ways to get my kicks, like watching these majorly awesome waves.”

  “They are nice. Want to go for a swim?”

  “Too many jellyfish.”

  She laughed. “You’re such a wuss.”

  “False.”

  “True.”

  “You have laid down the challenge gauntlet, so I choose the weapons: one-on-one at the bowling alley, winner take all.”

  “No way. You’d slaughter me.”

  “Undoubtedly. I rule the alley.”

  “You mean the back alley?”

  “Mucho amuse-a-reeno, Jen.”

  A couple strolling on the beach stopped nearby to watch a school of flying fish playing in the waves. One of them turned toward Deever and then looked down at the Jennifer-2 on her wrist.

  “Deever?” said Dr. Crane.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “Maybe it’s not such a good idea that you’re spending all that time at the nuclear plant making gold for Pan-Robotics. All that radiation can’t be good for you, and I heard Kerlin James is running the company even though he’s a fugitive. You can’t trust him.”

  “He’s not so bad.”

  “He’s a nasty man. Can’t you do something else instead?”

  “I guess I could try teaching if any place would have me, but the bastions of educationdom have elephant memories.”

  “Funny you should say that. I was just thinking . . . I can’t remember what I did yesterday. Isn’t that strange?”