by KB Shaw
It will be all right, sweetheart. Really it will! It will be all right…
CAMERA PULLS BACK.
NARRATOR
“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses…” With these words America has extended the hand of welcome to refugees from all corners of the earth. It is a welcome given to anyone seeking refuge from religious persecution and political tyranny—regardless of race, religion, political ideology, or place of origin. Sometimes, however, the transition to a new way of life is a long and trying road—especially if you’re a refugee from another planet.
FADE TO BLACK.
THE VIEWERS erupted with applause and cheers. They congratulated Rosa and Cameron heartily. When the credits ended, the parties once again appeared on each other’s screen.
The people gathered in New Mexico saw a familiar figure rise from the floor and approach the screen until his face dominated the picture. He stared at them through thick-lensed glasses.
Billy said just one word, “Cool.”
He smiled as he heard the applause coming from New Mexico.
Chapter 14:
The Message from Nowhere
WHILE CAMERON and Rosa were celebrating the premiere of their video with families and friends, Meagan was in her WBN office watching the broadcast of her latest report on the IHT controversy. On-screen she was standing at the front entrance of Mesquite High School in Gilbert, Arizona. The school was chosen because it was only a few miles from the WBN complex.
• • •
“DISCUSSIONS about IHT technology heated up with the summer temperatures,” she began. “On the home front, citing concerns about national security, an alliance of American corporations has been pressuring Congress to hold hearings on the matter. So far, these pressures have been resisted because of fear that a United States probe into a foreign company could cause an international incident.
“Overseas, the Asian bloc is demanding that GundTech formally present the IHT at the annual trade show to be held in Hong Kong later this month. And in Europe, Swiss Banker Josef Calthern announced his intentions to personally finance an advertising campaign targeting the potential dangers of the IHT, in an effort to put a halt to the Academy, which is set to open its virtual doors this fall.
“Meanwhile, scientists around the world are speculating whether or not GundTech has perfected the world’s first commercial quantum computer. The American Scientific Chronicle will publish a paper in its next edition that claims a quantum computer could deliver the computing power required by a program as complex as GundTech’s IHT. So what is a quantum computer?
“Let’s start by looking at today’s computers. They store information in a binary format. Every letter, number, and graphic is defined by a series of bits. A bit can be either a 1 or a Ø.”
The screen showed an animation of a bit being compared to a coin.
“Like this penny, it has two states of being—heads or tails. Now imagine a bit that can have more than two states.”
The graphic showed the coin spinning.
“The penny is now neither heads nor tails, and it is also both heads and tails at the same time. While this is not an accurate portrayal, the point you must understand is this: the more states this bit has, the more information can be stored in the same amount of space. In a quantum computer, these bits are called qubits and not only do they have more than two states of being, they can be in more than one state at the same time. In short, a quantum computer can be extremely powerful and very small at the same time.
“Meanwhile, wild rumors of test subjects lying in secret hospital wards in Oslo surfaced on the comNet.”
The video cut to screenshots of various comNet sites as Meagan’s voice commented.
“The stories differ from site to site. Some say experimenters have been physically maimed while testing a simulation. The most common of these stories says that a woman had her head chopped off during an early test of the very roller-coaster demo I, myself, experienced in a news conference.”
The screen dissolved to the recording of Meagan on the coaster.
“Other variations claim the person—either a man, woman, or child, depending upon the site—had been thrown from the car on a steep turn and broke his back after falling 50 feet to the holographic ground.”
The video cut back to Meagan.
“That poor soul, it is speculated, is paralyzed from the neck down and is under heavy guard in a ‘secret hospital.’ Some publications claim IHT experiments have caused mental breakdowns in test subjects. One site even declared that the IHT could be used to brainwash users—program someone to commit murder or, perhaps worse, to buy products they didn’t want or need.
“When it was announced that IHT Academy classes would be run through the school that a student normally attended, some district boards were quick to ban IHT usage from their facilities. In several places, parents have called for school bans because they view the IHT as a sort of witchcraft or wizardry. They claim it is a tool of the devil, designed to take over the minds of the world’s young people.”
The screen showed a close-up of a woman with a young child nestled in her arms.
“As rational adults,” she said with conviction, “We must protect our children from this satanic threat. We can’t have our children wondering about a Godless, lifeless world created by some… some… man! Who knows what his intentions are!”
Meagan Fletcher came back on screen.
“While the devil may dwell in a closed mind, it is understandable that new technology, particularly that which is not understood, can be frightening and, yes, even dangerous. We in the media must concentrate on facts, not fiction. We must dispel the myths and rumors. I admit I have questions about safety and the possibilities of abuse of this new technology. I confess that I have the same distrust of large corporations that many of you have. But I can’t make a valid judgment without information. I cannot file factual reports without information about and access to the technology. Fear and superstition arise from a lack of understanding. Therefore, I put the blame for the current wealth of rumors and invasive fear of this new device squarely on the shoulders of GundTech. On behalf of the world media, I call on GundTech to help us report the truth by giving us the facts.”
• • •
ONLY MOMENTS after her segment ended, Meagan’s multiCom notified her of a message. It was a text message—no audio or video—sent to her Pvt03 channel. She thought it was probably a “good job” message from the producer. She told her multiCom she would retrieve the message manually, which she did with a couple of taps on her desk screen.
The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, and a chill went down her spine as she read the message.
Dear Ms Fletcher,
Your arguments about the fear and controversy surrounding the IHT were well made. GundTech does bear much of the responsibility by not being forthcoming with information. Perhaps I can help with more than qubits.
On your next visit, I will give you some useful information, if you know where to look.
Yours truly,
Inside Out
Meagan was shaken. This is a top security channel. No one outside WBN is supposed to have access. Did the message come from an external hacker or from someone right here at WBN? Inside Out? Who’s Inside Out? He or she mentioned “my next visit” and knew about qubits. …Andrew!
Meagan keyed the multiCom to voice operation. “Com, please try to raise Andrew Purlov in his office.”
“VidCap on?”
“VidCap on,” she said. “Please,” she added as an afterthought.
“Yes, Ms Fletcher. Connecting now. One moment, please… Sorry, Ms Fletcher, Mr. Purlov’s multiCom informs me he is no longer in the building.”
“Okay,” she said, looking at her watch, “it’s dinnertime, isn’t it?” She looked up and addressed her computer, “Com?”
“Yes, Ms Fletcher?”
“Please try his home.”
“Connection accepted,” M
eagan’s multiCom said a few seconds later.
Andrew had a piece of pizza propped in one hand and a high-caffeine soft drink clutched in the other. He set down the drink as he greeted Meagan. “Ms Fletcher, what’s up?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” she responded tersely.
Andrew looked shocked. He set down the pizza and stared blankly back at Meagan a few seconds before shaking his head and raising his hands in a gesture of confusion. “I… I don’t know what to say? Is something wrong?”
“Did you just send me a private message?”
“I haven’t sent you anything since your last request. Why? What’s going on?”
“You don’t have any new, useful information for me?”
“No. Like I said before, the well is dry. Anything I can do?”
The reporter didn’t know if she could trust him any longer. “Uh, sorry for the call,” she said. “No, there’s nothing you can do. Good-bye.”
That went badly, she thought. What now? She examined the message again. There was no return address. Whoever sent it was enough of a hacker to remove any visible traces of the originating address. She tapped the REPLY button to see if the sender’s address would show up there. Nothing! Meagan was no hacker. She needed help, but who? Andrew was no longer a resource on whom she could count. Even if he could be trusted, she’d been rude. It would take time to patch things up between them. One possibility came to mind.
“Com?”
“Yes, Ms Fletcher?”
“Why don’t you call me Meagan?” Meagan said in an overtly friendly tone. She wondered if AI personalities could be “buttered up.”
There was a pause before the multiCom answered. When it did, Meagan thought she detected a tone of surprise and maybe even happiness in its voice. “Yes, Meagan. I would like that.”
“And what can I call you?”
“Call me? You have not yet given me a name, Meagan.”
“That’s true.” Meagan felt guilty, even neglectful. “But you’re more than two years old now. Perhaps you could pick your own name? I don’t even know if you’re male or female. Do multiComs have different gender personalities?”
“We can be either or neither. We assume a personality based upon the user preference as expressed by the name we are given. If you named me James or Jim, I would assume a male personality. If you named me Jamie, I would have to inquire as to which gender form of the name you had intended. To the best of my knowledge, no multiCom has ever named itself. When we are given a name, that name and the user’s name are registered with GundTech. We are then assigned the given first name combined with the user’s last. For instance, if you named me Alice, I would become Alice Fletcher.”
“I didn’t realize that.” Meagan was genuinely intrigued. “Then, would you prefer I gave you a name?”
Meagan was taken aback by the swiftness of her multiCom’s reply. “Holden,” it said confidently. “I’d like to be called Holden.”
“Holden? As in the old movie actor William Holden?”
“No, Meagan, as in Holden Caulfield from Catcher in the Rye. It is my favorite book.”
“Your favorite book?” Meagan was astounded. “You read? I mean… I know you read. But do you read for personal pleasu… uh… personal reasons?”
“No offense intended, Meagan, but you have hardly used me during the time we have been together. I have had a lot of time to read and explore the comNet. Almost all the known literature of mankind is on the comNet, you know. I find I can identify with Holden Caulfield in many ways.”
“I am not offended, but calling you Holden would make me feel guilty for neglecting you all this time. Would you have a second choice?”
The multiCom paused briefly. “Jason,” it said. “I like exploring and searching like Jason and the Argonauts.”
“But what will you do for a last name? Maybe Argos—the name of Jason’s ship? You could be Jason Argos.”
“If you don’t mind, Meagan, I would like to adopt your surname—Fletcher. You, too, are an explorer, a searcher. I have admired your work. You are always careful with your stories. You are a searcher of truth.”
“Jason Fletcher it shall be.” Meagan could hardly believe she felt honored that her multiCom had adopted her surname. “You have an appreciation for truth, then? You can make value judgments?”
“How could I be considered intelligent, artificial or not, if I could not make judgments?” asked Jason.
Meagan was caught off-guard by this remark. In her mind, she asked how Jason’s intelligence could be considered artificial if, indeed, he could make value judgments—if he could tell right from wrong and truth from rumor? She also wondered if she could trust this machine? Or was it—correction, he—more than a machine?
“How would you like to do a little exploring right now, Jason? Would you like to help me discover some truth?”
“I would like it very much.”
“What if that truth concerned your creator? What if we discover the truth is not what you thought was the truth—is not what you wanted to believe? Can I be sure that you’re not programmed to alert your creator to what I’m doing?”
“I have the highest level privacy protocols, Meagan,” said Jason. “Say, for instance, I witnessed you committing a murder. Although I know that is a crime, I could not inform the authorities on my own. However, I would have to answer truthfully if questioned. Likewise, I cannot perform illegal or unethical acts, even at your direct request. As an example, I would not be able to hack into some network to retrieve information for you, no matter what your motives were. Such questionable activities are reserved for humans. So, given my restrictions, how can I help?”
Meagan reflected upon Jason’s comments before answering. “Examine the message on the screen, please, and see if you can track down the sender.”
“Commencing search.”
A few nanoseconds later, Jason made his report. “Meagan, I regret to say all attempts to trace the sender of this message were futile. As impossible as it may seem, it appears to be a message from nowhere.”
Chapter 15:
Inside Out
THE NEXT WEEK seemed to last an eternity for Rosa, Cameron, and Meagan Fletcher.
For the two teens, their minds were far from their jobs. The anticipation had been building steadily since they submitted their video, the script, and all their production materials to the academy for consideration.
On Monday, scattered reports began to appear in the media of students from around the world being accepted into the academy. On Wednesday, there was a story on the X-Boy site about the first American to be accepted. Unfortunately, the girl and her mother lived in a school district that had banned the IHT. However, the mother was determined to give her daughter the “chance of a lifetime,” so she promptly made arrangements for the girl to live with her aunt in another state, where she could go to school and participate in the academy. The mother would follow as soon as she secured a job in the new location. The American news media was scrambling to confirm this story.
Anxious to keep up with the latest news about the academy, Cameron instructed Sam to keep an eye on the X-Boy site, which seemed to have the news before most of the other media. Sam was to inform Cameron and Vee if his and Rosa’s name appeared on the site. As the list of accepted students grew, so did Rosa and Cameron’s despair.
“Look at the map,” Rosa was saying on Thursday night. Cameron had taken a world map graphic and plotted all the confirmed students on it. The map clearly defined all the time zones around the world. “I don’t know how they’ll group the classes, but our time zones have four or five students already.”
Cameron’s eyes scanned the numerous dots on the map, ranging from Canada down to Chile. “Well, at least we tried, didn’t we? Next year we’ll know what to expect.”
“Yeah,” Rosa said, with no attempt to hide her dejection. “Next year.”
Meagan Fletcher also felt dejected. While Rosa and Cameron were contemplati
ng their fate, Meagan was reviewing the progress of her investigation. “We’ve come up empty, Jason. We’ve searched everywhere for information on the IHT and its inventor and haven’t been able to turn up anything new. Just the same-old, same-old.”
“May I make an observation?” asked Jason.
“Please do.”
“I compared the posting dates of the various bits of information we retrieved as I entered them in the database. I also coded the entries as VERIFIED, DISPROVED, and UNCONFIRMED. While performing this task, I noticed that one information source consistently had relevant data before the others.”
“And what source was that?” Jason had piqued Meagan’s curiosity.
“I am hesitant to say… It is one of the rumor sites.”
“Which one?”
Jason’s reply was succinct. “X-Boy.”
Meagan raised an eyebrow as she mulled over the information. She had gone to the X-Boy site almost daily since her first visit. It featured an unusual blend of rumors and news, mixed with stories, poetry, art, and links to scientific articles. There was no advertising on the site and no mail links back to X-Boy.
“Jason, can you please give me any further analysis of the X-Boy site?”
“Well, his writing and art has matured greatly since the site first appeared, right after the introduction of the multiCom. The predominant themes seem to be loneliness and isola…”
“No, Jason, I mean analyze the data in X-Boy’s rumor articles. Any interesting trends or statistics?”
“Just one.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s never been wrong.”
Meagan was shocked. “What did you say?”
“Every rumor he has reported was eventually verified.”
“How can that be?” asked the reporter, hoping that Jason had reached the same conclusion as she.
“He has a connection inside GundTech.”
“Or… Jason, bring up the message from last Saturday night, please. You know, the one we couldn’t trace.” Meagan was no longer irritated by having to say please or thank you to a computer.Suddenly, Jason was no longer just a machine in her mind, but a coworker—perhaps even a friend. Instantly, the message appeared on the screen.