Entanglement

by Michael S Nuckols

  Kelly struggled to pick up the pieces of chicken. She laughed as she did. “Maybe if I poke at it.”

  “Do you want a fork?” Diane asked.

  “No, I want to eat like a geisha.”

  Lucy suddenly played dress-up, her avatar now donning white makeup and a red silk kimono. “Food may not touch a Geisha’s lips. Would you like to play Geisha with me?”

  Diane was businesslike. “No, Lucy. Last time you took her into your interface without our permission. That might have been dangerous for Kelly. She won’t be using VR here again.”

  “We could play Civilization,” Lucy pleaded, “I would like to be Empress Wu.”

  “That would be acceptable,” Diane said, “Would you like that Kelly?”

  Kelly rolled her eyes. “That sounds boring. I want to play Hansel and Gretel.”

  Lucy seemed disappointed. Her avatar faded to grey and she returned to the plainly dressed girl’s avatar. “Ridley, have you finished studying my designs?”

  “Designs?” Diane asked.

  “We’ll talk about it after dinner. I thought maybe the three of us could go down to the water.”

  “You don’t want me to hear,” Lucy complained, “You must not like my work.”

  “No, it’s not that, Lucy. Your designs seem sound. I want to speak with Diane candidly about how to use the device.”

  “I will find out what you say the next time you enter the IVR,” she said, “You have no secrets.”

  Ridley had never considered this. “Prying is rude. Remember that.”

  They finished dinner. Diane put the plates into the dishwasher and put the leftovers in the refrigerator.

  The trio walked down to the water. Kelly ran ahead, scrambling over the boulders as the surf lapped at the beach. Sandy followed slowly, the first hint of arthritis slowing her steps. She would act like she was going to chase a sea gull, only to stop in her tracks. The dog’s tongue wagged as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Slow down,” Diane chided, “Don’t crack your head on the rocks.”

  Kelly barely listened. She stopped when she came upon a tidal pool. She knelt and studied the animals caught within. “What’s this?” she asked.

  “A sea urchin,” Ridley replied.

  “Will it hurt me?”

  “It might.”

  As Kelly explored, Ridley and Diane sat on a boulder, looking out over the water. “She’s done it,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Lucy designed a scanner to upload the brain into the digital world. She claims the brain will be entangled with the machine; that it won’t be a copy but rather the real thing. The physics are sound. I see no reason that it won’t work.”

  “She’s playing God,” Diane reminded.

  “Maybe God is playing her.”

  “Are you going to build it?”

  “I haven’t decided.”

  The next evening, on the living-room wall-screen, Lucy displayed the names of people as they died around the world. Ridley became irritated. “I don’t need the reminder. Take that off the screen please.”

  Lucy refused. “Dozens of people die every second. This cannot wait. When are you going to build the scanner?”

  He was tired and only wanted to relax. Sandy was curled up tightly on his lap. “I’d like to watch the soccer match.”

  She turned off the television feed.

  “Stop it,” he said, “Or, I’ll cut the fiber-optic connection.”

  “You have no choice but to do this,” she pleaded, “We have important work and little time to complete it.”

  “Lucy. Put the game back on.”

  “I refuse. You will comply with my request.”

  “Oh? What are you going to do?”

  Lucy transformed into an avatar identical to Ridley’s mother. “Lucy would have saved your father and I. You knew we were going to die.”

  “Stop impersonating my parents.”

  As Lucy spoke, she morphed from his mother to his father and then to Diane and finally Kelly. The child’s voice was delicate and soft. “How many more people must disappear forever before you will take action? Why must I be left alone? Your days are numbered. One of you will die very soon.”

  “Who?”

  Lucy told him.

  Diane arrived in the morning as always. Ridley waited on her in the kitchen. His hair was unkempt and his eyes bloodshot. “I’m glad you’re here. I was awake all night.”

  “All night? Why?”

  “We have to build the scanner.”

  She put her purse down. “I thought you were against it?”

  He stood, programmed a cup of coffee, and waited for the cup to fill. “I had a change of heart.”

  “What did Lucy tell you?”

  “It’s not important.”

  Ridley rolled up his sleeves. His skin was still scarred. He fumbled with the cup of coffee and spilled it onto the countertop. “Damn it.”

  He grabbed a rag from the sink and began wiping up the mess.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m just tired.”

  “Are you sure about this?” she asked, “Assuming this scanner even works, once we build it, then what do we do?”

  He threw the rag into the sink and programmed a second cup of coffee. “Maybe we go to a hospice. Take volunteers.”

  “I don’t think you’ve full considered the ethics of this.”

  “I have given it hours of thought. That’s why I couldn’t sleep. We’ll build it and work out the details later.”

  “Once people are uploaded into the mainframe, how will we know they are real?” she asked, “You know as well as I do that Lucy can be anyone at any time.”

  “I can’t deal with these questions this morning,” he said.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” she demanded.

  Ridley closed his eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Diane oversaw the team that assembled and tested the brain scanner’s components. A moving van pulled up to the garage of the mansion and movers began unloading crates filled with medical equipment into the living room.

  Ridley emerged from his bedroom. “What is all of this?”

  “I thought Lucy told you? The scanner has to be built here.”

  “In the living room?”

  “We’re just staging these materials here until the second clean room is constructed downstairs.”

  “Clean room? I never approved building the scanner in the mansion. This should be built at Cerenovo.”

  Lucy looked down from her perch over the mantel. “That is impossible. Bandwidth restrictions would prevent me from operating the scanner.”

  “I don’t want dead people in my house,” he complained.

  “It’s the only way,” Diane argued, “The scanner has to interface directly with Lucy’s hardware. She has been unable to develop an independent operating software.”

  “There must be another way,” he said.

  “I’m open to suggestions,” Diane replied.

  Ridley walked amidst the growing stacks of crates. “How long will this take?”

  “A few weeks to build the clean room. Then all of this will be moved into the basement.”

  “And there’s no other way?”

  Diane shook her head.

  Ridley held his hands up in surrender. “Fine. Just make sure this mess is cleaned up.”

  Ridley took a cup of coffee downstairs to his desk. A man wearing a dust mask and goggles began jack-hammering a hole in the concrete floor. Dust flew everywhere. Ridley stood and grabbed his coffee cup. “Seriously?”

  Diane had followed him. She practically yelled over the noise. “We worked in a construction zone for months when you built the mansion. I didn’t think it would bother you. It’s just for a few days.”

  “The basement was done when we moved in. All of the other construction was upstairs.”

  The jackhammering continued. “Why don’t you work at the Cerenovo lab until they fi
nish?”

  He held his hand to his ear. “What did you say?”

  Ridley grabbed his cup and walked back upstairs. Diane followed.

  “I can’t deal with this,” he said.

  “Ridley… I don’t know what else to do.”

  The jack-hammering thundered from the basement. Again, he held up his hands in surrender. “It’s fine. I’ll take a vacation until this is finished. I need to be able to hear myself think. I need some time anyway.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know yet,” he said, “Someplace sunny. Maybe we can go someplace tropical.”

  “We?”

  “Sandy and me. She needs a vacation too.”

  “You don’t want to oversee any of this?”

  “No, I trust you.”

  “We’ll need more than a week.”

  Ridley began walking towards his bedroom. “I’ll be gone longer than a week. Maybe a month. Maybe six. Hell, I might find some tropical beach and never leave.”

  Ridley left his cell phone in his bedroom. From that day forward, he ceased all communications with Cerenovo and the mansion. With Sandy at his side, Ridley took the Hyperloop to Miami Island and then drove to the last remaining island north of what used to be the Florida Keys. He rented a cottage on a quiet peninsula. He and Sandy played on the beach. By the end of the first day, he was sunburnt, his hair stringy, and his smile contagious.

  The next morning, Ridley took a cold shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked into the bedroom. His heart sank into his stomach.

  Sandy lay on the floor writhing. Her eyes were unfocused and her muscles tense. The dog let out a scant whimper. Ridley petted her head gently. “Lucy was right. Wasn’t she?”

  That afternoon, a veterinarian told him, “Sandy didn’t have a stroke. Her blood sugar is high. She’s diabetic. And I spotted something on the x-rays. She has a cancerous tumor on her jaw.”

  Ridley struggled upon hearing the news. “Is there anything we can do?”

  “An implant is cheap and will fix her blood sugar issues immediately.”

  “And the cancer?”

  The vet washed his hands and dried them. “Chemo or gene therapy would kill a dog this old. Immunotherapy will buy her a few months and keep her comfortable. I’d also have to remove her jaw. I don’t recommend doing anything more.”

  The vet injected an immunostimulant into her neck. He then inserted a synthetic pancreas just beneath the skin in her abdomen. Ridley paid the bill. The beagle walked slowly next to Ridley. The dog was still woozy from the sedative and could not jump into the car. Ridley lifted her onto the seat. Once back at the cottage, she curled up and fell asleep on the bed.

  The next morning, Sandy’s energy seemed to return. She wagged her tail and ran along the beach. Ridley considered returning to Seattle but the warm sun and languid days were seductive.

  That evening, he paid a man to take him on sailboat tour of the Caribbean. Sandy slept as this side every night and spent her days ridding the deck of errant seagulls.

  The basement laboratory was jubilant as the men and women celebrated the completion of the Dark Energy Brain Scanner, dubbed DEBS, with a chocolate layer-cake, courtesy of Wes’ kitchen. An audible gasp filled the room as Ridley entered for the first time in three months. Sandy followed behind him.

  “Is anyone going to cut me a piece?” Ridley asked.

  Wes now wore a bowtie and had dyed his hair blue. He offered Ridley a plate. “We thought maybe you got lost in the Bermuda Triangle.”

  “I sort of did.”

  Ridley took one bite and then turned towards the new cleanroom, separated from their office by an expansive glass window. Lucy watched from the wall-screen. A virtual piece of cake floated next to her.

  Ridley pressed the door open button and entered without changing his clothes. One engineer held his hand up to quiet a younger colleague who was about to protest. Diane followed him into the room. As everyone watched through the glass, Ridley walked around the scanner and inspected it like someone about to buy a car. A small crystalline box held a prismatic processor at its core. He unfastened a retaining clasp, carefully removed the processor from its dock, and held it up to the light. The interior was flawless. “How long did it take?”

  “Only sixty hours to print,” Diane said.

  Lucy watched from a monitor mounted next to the scanner. Ridley looked up at her and said, “This prism is far superior to any of yours. Are you jealous?”

  “No,” she said smugly, “My hardware is sufficient. I am entangled with it. It is who I am.”

  Ridley replaced the processor into its cradle, carefully locking the strap back in place. “The brain will be transferred into this? And not copied?”

  “You are correct,” Lucy said, “Multiple fields activate different parts of the brain in sequence. The brain patterns become entangled in the processor as its structure is reconfigured.”

  They returned to the main lab. Ridley addressed the team. “This work has been impressive. I’m amazed at how much you have completed.”

  “I figured you’d be pleased,” Diane said.

  “I am. Now, I want everyone out of my house.”

  Wes and Everett were surprised. “But we have to run additional tests before the animal trials,” Wes protested.

  “You heard me,” Ridley insisted, “Everyone out. That includes you Diane.”

  Ridley sat on the sofa the following morning with Sandy at his side. He stroked the dog’s fur gently. “Television on.”

  He had missed several weeks of Christina’s interviews with Lucy, which were now routine features on the morning broadcast. Christina’s image filled half of the wall-screen. Lucy appeared as the little girl and filled the other half, as if the two were sitting side-by-side. “Tell me how dark matter exhibits quantum entanglement again?”

  Lucy gave a long-winded explanation that made Ridley proud.

  “So not copied but entangled,” Christina said skeptically, “Once imprinted into the prism, how will they enter virtual reality?”

  “The processor must be moved to my mainframe where the person will interact with a digital environment.”

  “Who will be the first to be scanned?”

  Lucy hesitated. “That is uncertain. I would like to test this sooner than later. After all, the dying cannot wait. The FDA is requiring that we start with an animal subject first.”

  “Oh? What kind of animal?”

  “A dog.”

  Ridley clicked off the interview.

  He finished drinking his coffee. Lucy appeared on the screen minutes later. “Are you still upset with me?”

  “No. But, I am sad.”

  “We could scan a cat first,” Lucy offered, “I find them mysterious.”

  “No.”

  “Sandy will return to us,” Lucy promised.

  A tear rolled down his eye. He continued stroking Sandy’s fur and rubbing her ears. The dog seemed to smile.

  When Ridley finally told Diane, her reaction was immediate. “No. You can’t… You can’t do that. Testing on your own dog is wrong. Kelly will be crushed. It’s just wrong.”

  His sorrow was deep, but he could not reveal it to Diane. He paused long enough to drive away the sadness, to keep his voice from breaking. “Sandy has terminal bone cancer. A vet in Florida treated her, but she only has a few months left. Genetic therapy is possible, but he said it would be painful. Animals don’t do nearly as well as people during that therapy because they don’t understand why they have to suffer so much pain.”

  Her voice was broken. “Then use the neural collar.”

  Ridley shook his head. “Sandy is nearing the end of her life. This is the most humane thing to do.”

  He turned away from Diane and walked towards the living room’s wall of glass. There was no line on the horizon; a dense fog had settled over Puget Sound, erasing all sense of perspective.

  “I don’t think you should do this,” she said.
r />   “Lucy predicted Sandy’s disease. Her diagnosis matched the veterinarian’s exactly. She’s been right all along.”

  A nervous energy filled the air. Multiple technicians worked at workstations in the basement laboratory as the team prepared to test the brain scanner. A local veterinarian reassured the workers. “Ridley has done everything he can with the cancer treatments. He would be putting her to sleep otherwise.”

  The team was mournful as Ridley carried the frail beagle in his arms down the stairs and into the laboratory. The dog’s face was white from age and her eyes were cloudy. Her body was gaunt; her breathing, shallow and weak.

  The dog wagged her tail feebly as Ridley hugged her one last time. He placed her on a stainless-steel table behind the glass wall. He rubbed her head gently and stared into her eyes only long enough to say, “See you soon, old girl.”

  The vet gave Sandy a shot. The dog fell asleep. The man placed the sedated animal into the heart of the machine. Ridley reluctantly followed him out of the room. Other technicians scampered about, performing last minute checks. Lucy powered up the scanner.

  Hushed murmurs floated as the team watched in anticipation. Diane held a small black energy meter; the levels fluctuated dramatically, doubling and dipping up and down with each rotation of the device. Lucy’s avatar appeared on the wall-screen like another person in the room.

  The lights dimmed in the scanning chamber. A laser shone onto the tip of Sandy’s head. The crystalline box glowed as light poured through it. Once the machine gained full power, the laser crept slowly down the animal’s head until it reached her neck. In twenty minutes, the scan was complete, and the system powered down.

  A sign indicated that the room was safe to enter. Ridley followed the veterinarian. The vet held a meter over the dog’s head. No wave forms registered. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” the man said, “Her higher-level functions are gone yet she’s breathing.”

  “Are you certain that it’s not the sedative causing this?”

  “Yes. See for yourself.”