by R E Kearney
Once Mugavus completed her - while you were sleeping - current events briefing to Robert, Pion had induced what she called a mind upload that she converted into a mind upgrade. She interfaced Robert’s brain implant prosthesis directly into the Cloud via SPEA’s AI. He is now in constant interaction with all of the world’s data and receives continuous intelligence updates. Information overload.
As with every upgrade, there are new functions and changes that require time for learning and adjustment. He is struggling to adjust. His brain is always processing. He constantly hears the debate of his inner voices. He cannot sleep in silence.
“I pity the digital dozen having to grow up suffering through this agony. But, then they’ll never know anything different. They’ll be born chip children. They won’t need to relearn to think or control their thoughts.” Robert ponders as he stalks a loud location where he can rest. “Better a chip in the head, than dead. I guess.”
Sitting in the center of the crowded, noisy Venus plaza, Robert concentrates on gaining control of his mind. He is attempting to employ the cacophony surrounding him to overwhelm his mental noise. He is seeking that level of sounds where he can happily say, “I can’t hear myself think.” Adding thunderous music, he achieves a deafening decibel level, closes his eyes and captures sleep.
Five hours later, Robert’s personal peace in pandemonium abruptly ends. His neurotransmitters erupt. It is too quiet. Venus’ plaza is vacant and still. His bloodshot eyes fly open.
“Good evening, Robert. Welcome back.” Sitting in front of him, Rita quietly greets him. She leans forward and kisses his cheek. “I have important news, Robert.”
Robert nods and meekly smiles. He thinks thanks, but fails to speak. Rita looks at him, first quizzically then peevishly.
“Use your words!” Rita commands him. “I can’t hear your thoughts.”
Embarrassed, at not realizing he is not projecting his thoughts beyond his cranial cavity, Robert clears his throat and coughs out his first words in days. “Sorry, I forget that you’re not wired like me.”
Rita tenderly caresses his cheek with her hand and smiles softly. “I have important news.”
“If you’re planning to tell me that Reverend Diaboli and Willy Wanker died last night in Tennessee, don’t bother. Alarms sounded in my head with that several hours ago.” Robert sneers. “My sources communicated that they both died excruciatingly painful deaths from Aethon. I guess the diplomatic immunity that protected them from prosecution in Puerto Rico for killing Yisheng didn’t give them immunity to Aethon. You’ll pardon me, I hope, if I fail to shed any tears of sorrow for them.”
“Yes, I feel the same, but…” Rita begins tapping her fingertips together.
Robert continues wandering within his own wonderings. “Their agonizing deaths actually please me, but I worry about the ELF programs they stole. Who has ELF?”
“SPEA has ELF. Yisheng packed all of the real ELF inside of you. Diaboli got nothing.” Rita stops for a breath then smirks. “Well actually, in exchange for Shengwu’s and Zhou’s lives, Yisheng did give them some genome editing programs code named ELF. And I truly hope Evoil is successful implementing his stolen ELF programs...”
“What!” Robert feels betrayed.
“…Yes, I definitely wish Evoil success.” A mischievous smirk caresses Rita’s face. “Because Robert, Yisheng told me that if Evoil’s minions edit genomes following those particular ELF algorithms they will actually produce millions of Extra Large Flies.”
Robert chuckles. “I imagine Yisheng died laughing.”
“Yes, I suppose, Robert. But, I need to tell you something important.” Rita leans closer to Robert’s face to secure his attention. “Do you remember our first night together?”
“Well, of course, I do. I haven’t lost my memory. I’ve lost my identity.” He pulls back. “So what?”
Rita cups Robert’s chin between her hands. “Robert, when they started to suck those twelve embryos out of me, they found thirteen.”
“Thirteen?” Robert frowns.
“Actually, they found twelve embryos and one fetus. Our fetus. Our baby.” Rita bounces and giggles. “Robert! I’m pregnant!”
“Say again.” Confusion clouds his face and mind. “Suddenly, his consciousness is unconscious.”
“You and me, Robert, we’re pregnant!” Rita pats her stomach. “And whether it’s a boy or a girl, guess what we’re naming it.”
Still lost, Robert shrugs.
“Aethon, of course. Aethon!”
About the Author
“The best way to predict your future is to create it,” Abraham Lincoln said and as bestselling author, entrepreneur and agent of change Seth Godin wrote, “If you are deliberately trying to create a future that feels safe, you will willfully ignore the future that is likely.” Now, you may ask why I am beginning this semi-biographical discussion with these two quotes. I am beginning with these two quotes because they represent the type of thinking that shapes my reasoning and my writing.
I am not a scientist. I am a future fanatic. As far back as I am still capable of remembering, I have always been interested in what is next, what is over the horizon, what will be the next innovation or invention and how it will change the world. So, I adopt, adapt and employ inventions and innovations in my efforts as a writer to investigate, consider and discuss what the future may hold for the world. I don’t know what I don’t know I admit, but I am always ready and excited to learn something I didn’t know and then to share that information with others. For as Charles F. Kettering said, “My interest is in the future because I am going to spend the rest of my life there.” So, I hope you will join me as I look around and ask, “What if?”
Connect with R. E. Kearney
Website: http://rekearney.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RE-Kearney-956373567787029/?ref=bookmarks
Twitter: https://twitter.com/rekearney
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