by Jason Hutt
“Well, I suppose it can’t hurt.”
“I’m glad you approve,” Victor said with a laugh.
Max waved a hand dismissively. “Come on, I could really use that drink now.”
***
Maria’s office door slid open and her silver assistant rolled to the side of the door and extended her hand toward the interior of the office with a fluid grace that was supposed to be a combination of old-world charm and the fluidity of modern technology. Maria’s guest, the gray-haired Archbishop Assisi, eyed the slender robot cautiously and gave it a tepid smile in return. He stepped to the right, giving the robot a wide berth as he entered the room.
Maria got up from her desk and gave him a warm smile. “Good morning, Archbishop. I’m glad you could make it today. Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you,” he said with a warm, gravelly voice.
“Come, have a seat,” Maria said, gesturing to one of the plush white chairs in her office’s sitting area.
“Thank you, Senator. I have to admit I was surprised to hear from you. I take it things are not well back on Demeter?”
“No, Archbishop…”
“Jean, please. No need to be so formal,” he said.
“Jean. And please call me Maria. Demeter has hit even rougher times. I’m afraid with the recent business on Amal, we’re more than a little weary about what comes next. Governor Murphy just sent word this morning. They’ve had an outbreak on the southern continent. The latest crops have withered and all this just before we hit the summer storm season in the north. Things are grim and I’m trying to find whatever help I can.”
The Archbishop sat quietly for several moments before looking at her with a sympathetic smile. “The last time we spoke, you rejected any offers of aid.”
“These are desperate times, Archbishop,” she said.
“For so many,” he concurred, “Desperation is often the key for rediscovering devotion. God is rarely called on by the content. You understand that our terms have not changed?”
“I do,” Maria said, “The Governor has approved the placement of sanctuaries in each major city. Your missionaries will be welcomed there.”
“Very good,” he said, “But before we finalize this deal, there is something I would ask of you.”
Maria arched an eyebrow in response. This time it was the Archbishop who hesitated.
“We’ve heard rumors of the pending change to the Family Planning Act and we’ve been monitoring the Conglomerate’s efforts with its new toy very closely. This new breakthrough, this miracle that the Conglomerate is peddling, is troubling to say the least.”
“You don’t approve?”
“We think more study is needed. We need to carefully consider the ramifications of this new advancement. The ability to copy a person’s mind and overwrite on a new mind, well…it raises troubling issues for us.”
“The forward march of technology has always made the Church uncomfortable. I can’t say I’m surprised you still feel that way,” Maria said.
The Archbishop leaned back and looked at the floor. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands in front of him. After a few more seconds of meditation, he opened his eyes and stared at Maria.
“Senator…Maria…do you believe in the immortal soul?”
Maria hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Call it consciousness or aura or whatever else may please you. There is something unique about every individual that defines that person’s essence, their very identity. When you copy a person’s mind and place that mind in a new brain, do you really copy the entirety of that being? Or is the copy something less than the original?”
“I’m afraid, Archbishop, that even if you want to stop this, you won’t be able to. The Conglomerate will march forward. They are impervious to your concerns.”
“We are painfully aware,” he said, “Besides, this mind-copying ability is really just a red herring. It’s just another way for that corporation to worship at the temple of the almighty dollar. We don’t worry about the few lost souls that will be able to afford this new therapy. We worry about the trillions of souls who cannot. What new burden will be placed on their backs so that the privileged few will continue to dominate over all?”
Maria frowned. “The core of the Family Planning Act will remain unchanged. This revision will simply place greater controls on who will be approved for family licenses. Families will have a choice – extend the lives of the living or bring one new life into the universe. These controls are necessary. We don’t have the resources to sustain the existing population, let alone one that continues to grow.”
“Perhaps we are solving the wrong problem then,” he said.
Maria sat back in her chair and glanced at the clock. Only five minutes had passed since the start of the hearing. Seconds seemed to be ticking by as if someone had opened up a black hole in the center of the room. She looked back up and glanced at Hunter Graham, the committee chair, with practiced stoicism. She immediately felt the urge to start fiddling with her wrist computer, but resisted.
Hunter was rambling a bit in his preamble as he had a tendency to do in these hearings. Maria stretched her neck and took a sip of water. It was time for her part in this little play.
“I will now turn it over to my esteemed colleague from Demeter, Senator Cahill,” Hunter concluded.
“Thank you, Senator Graham,” she said as she leaned forward on the table, fingers folded in front of her. “Mister Arresh, let me congratulate you on this great achievement. This is a tremendous breakthrough, a breakthrough where we are only beginning to understand the consequences. For decades, we’ve been able to view memories as we would any file on the computer. Now though, with this next giant leap, you can copy those memories into place in living brain tissue. As you’ve explained to Senator Graham, you can now copy someone’s entire being and give them a new life in a new, artificially-grown brain. This achievement is breathtaking and we must take some time to understand its implications. How invasive is this procedure? What happens to the subject when the copy is made?”
Sanjay Arresh cleared his throat and smiled. “As you are well aware, Senator, we’ve had the ability to grow a human brain for centuries, but any attempt to restore memories, to restore the essence of who you are, has failed miserably. With this new approach, we have learned how to transplant memories as if we were moving a file from one location to another. The copy is now indistinguishable from the original.”
Arresh looked at her as he spoke with an aw-shucks demeanor that hid the raging ego bubbling just below the surface of his expression. Maria started to drum her fingertips on the top of the desk. Hunter gave her a quick glance and Maria gave him an apologetic smile.
“I..”
As she was about to speak, a dozen people in the audience stood up, touched a spot on their wrist computers, and projected signs in the air.
Money over man.
For the corporations, by the corporations…
Greed.
A murmur spread throughout the rest of the sparsely populated gallery.
Hunter banged his gavel. “Security, get these people out of here.”
As the robotic sentries approached, the protestors’ diverse projections changed and merged to broadcast one message.
The seed of revolution is repression.
The protestors remained silent even as the sentries forcibly pulled their arms behind their backs, secured them in cuffs, and pushed them out of the chamber.
Arresh smiled and said, “Our ideas inspire such passion. I agree with those young men and women, this is truly revolutionary.”
The other committee members laughed. Maria rubbed at her eyes so that she wouldn’t roll them.
“You may not be able to see it from the perch you sit on up above the rest of the petty commoners, but these young people whose enthusiasm you share have a point,” Another Senator, Samir Effren of Salaam, interjected. “This is a fine show you’re putting on but let’s not pret
end that this advancement will be altruistically given to the people. The next time the Conglomerate does something benevolent will be the first time. What’s your business case for this?”
Maria arched her eyebrows in surprise; Effren was off script. She caught the glare that Hunter shot in the elderly Senator’s direction. Maria quickly typed a message to Hunter.
I’ll talk to him later. Get him back on message.
Hunter quickly replied.
You damn well better. He’s in your bloc. I expect you to rein him in.
“I’m sorry, Senator?” Arresh said with hesitation.
“How much does the Conglomerate stand to make from this tech, Mister Arresh? Surely, you won’t be giving this service away to everyone,” Effren asked.
“Of course not, Senator,” Arresh continued with a bit of a nervous laugh. “We are still determining the logistics behind offering this service. Surely you understand that with something this, well, impactful, we must proceed cautiously. We are not yet ready to make any grand pronouncements.”
“Yet, here you sit today, trumpeting your discovery so that the angels may descend from heaven and anoint you savior,” Efren said, “I have no doubt that you’ve put some thought into how this will work. Tell me, who do you see as the beneficiary of this service?”
Maria could see Hunter’s cheeks turning a soft shade of pink and he started rubbing at his temples. She suppressed a smile by taking a drink of water. Effren had done this more times than she could remember.
“Senator Effren, please,” Hunter interrupted, “You’re speaking out of turn. I believe Senator Cahill had the floor.”
Effren opened his mouth, ready to protest, when an aide leaned forward and whispered something in his year. Maria watched him lean back in his chair, frustrated.
“Mister Arresh,” Maria said as Hunter urged her to speak with a rolling of his hand, “What do you see as the potential medical benefit of this approach?”
Arresh dutifully droned on and Maria looked back down at her wrist computer. She had received a message in the midst of the commotion. She tapped the screen and a message from Admiral Kersey popped up.
We have Eleanor Shaw, a key member of Cabot’s information network. Agents are in place at their base of operations. Additional units are en route and will be in position in twelve hours. You’ll have Max Cabot soon enough.
Maria smiled and typed a reply.
Well done, Admiral. I guess you’re about to get my vote.
Arresh had stopped speaking and Hunter was looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
“My apologies,” Maria said and the hearing droned on.
***
Hannah’s biceps burned as she tried to keep her staff in the proper defensive position. Her shoulders ached as she spun the staff from left to right, parrying her teacher’s blows. Sweat poured down her forehead as she stepped back towards the edge of the plateau. Finally, Doctor Leigh relented.
Hannah dropped to one knee and wiped her forehead on her sleeve. She stared at the long shadow cast by the late afternoon sun as she tried to catch her breath. She didn’t have to look up to know that Leigh was looking at her with disappointment.
“Hannah, you could be the best one out here,” he said, “And I think you know that.”
She looked at him with her chin thrust out, meeting his stare. A million petulant retorts swam through her head. Instead, she just glared at him.
He didn’t back down. “Maybe next time, you’ll remember to be on time. Now, let’s do one more.”
She stood with her left foot forward and twirled her staff around the back of her hand. She stopped the staff mid-spin and thrust at her instructor’s midsection. He deftly stepped aside and countered, smacking her hand.
Pain flared and she gritted her teeth in frustration. She spun the staff faster, tracing a figure eight with the butt end of the staff with almost lightning speed. She thrust forward with a grunt and Leigh countered just in time to avoid taking a sharp blow to the shin.
He feinted to the right and she spun her staff to block. She recognized the feint too slowly and overextended. He spun the staff around and caught her behind the left knee. Hannah went down with a growl.
“Damn it,” she yelled. She slammed the wooden staff down.
Leigh sighed.
“What the hell’s the point of this anyway?” Hannah asked. “If the Republic hunts us down, they’ll do it with energy weapons or something worse. My little stick won’t do me a damn bit of good.”
Leigh offered Hannah a hand and after a moment of hesitation she took it.
“You’re right, Hannah. The Republic can crush us under its boot without us even leaving a scratch. So, what would you do? Just turn yourself in? If the force with superior numbers always won, history would be a lot less interesting.”
Hannah frowned. “This still seems pointless.”
“I don’t have any wisdom for you, Hannah. You can always choose to not show up. I won’t get my feelings hurt.”
“I can only read so many texts or watch so many movies. I hate just sitting around all day. I hate being stuck here.”
“I’m not sure there is a teenager alive who hasn’t felt that at some point or another. I’d tell you to grab an aircar and go crazy for a night, but the nightlife here leaves a bit to be desired.”
“That’s my point! This whole place leaves something to be desired,” Hannah said. She stared at the calluses on her hand where her palm gripped that staff. She looked out past the edge of the plateau. Night would fall soon.
She picked up the staff. “Let’s go again. I’m going to win one of these or die trying.”
Chapter 3
Max stared at the golden liquid at the bottom of his mug. It didn’t taste or smell like beer, but the softness at the edge of his vision told him it was doing its job. Max stared at it for another second and then tossed the mug back, emptying it. He nodded at the bartender to give him another and then he checked his wrist computer for any word on Eleanor.
So far, there had been no news.
A pit had formed in Max’s stomach; something bad had happened to her. He rubbed his forehead while he stared blankly ahead.
“You’re pathetic.” Sharon’s voice cut through the haze in his mind like a rising sun at dawn.
Max winced.
“Someone close to you gets in trouble and you hit the bottle before you can count to ten.”
“I don’t need this,” Max said, taking a drink from his topped-off mug. “What the hell are you doing here anyway?”
“Victor called,” she said, taking the seat next to him. The bar was empty except for the two of them. Even the bartender had disappeared into the kitchen. “He was worried about you.”
“So, he sent you?” Max asked with raised eyebrows.
“You don’t exactly have a long list of close friends,” she said, “He didn’t know who else to turn to. Besides, I know how you get. You got this way twenty years ago when Hannah died. You got this way ten years ago after that kid died.”
“Nick,” Max said, “His name was Nick.”
“I remember,” Sharon said, lowering her head to try and get him to look into her eyes, “I remember how two months after he died you almost crashed your precious ship into the plateau out there because you were drunk and tried to override the landing program. The colony almost kicked you out right then and there.”
Max didn’t say anything. He refused to look her in the eye. He kept his eyes locked on the rocky wall behind the bar. After a moment, he sniffed and a tear rolled down his cheek.
“I can’t lose another one, Sharon,” Max said weakly, “I can’t lose another kid.”
“I know, Max. I know.” She put a hand on his shoulder and ruffled his hair. “This doesn’t help though. Getting drunk on this crap isn’t going to help anyone.”
“What the hell do you want me to do?” He asked, pulling away from her touch, “You want me to walk up to Republic Navy H-Q and demand they let h
er out? What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“I have no idea, Max,” Sharon said, “But I know that sitting here getting drunk off your ass isn’t going to accomplish anything. You can’t save her if you’re passed out in a pile of your own puke. Put the god damn mug down, sober yourself up, and figure out a way to help her.”
“And what if I can’t?”
“Then maybe it’s time for you to retire. Get out of this business,” Sharon said, “You don’t seem to have the stomach for it anymore.”
***
Two hundred meters deeper into the mountain sanctuary from where Max was drowning his sorrows, Commander Djimbe Akimbe sat on a makeshift bench carved into the rock of his subterranean cell, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. The name ‘Adderman’ was projected on the top right corner of the shimmering containment field that held him and his family.
Akimbe looked at the time on his wrist computer. All units should be in position by now.
“Montel, are we ready?” His wife asked as she glanced at her wrist computer.
“I hate that name. No need to use it anymore,” Akimbe said. “How are you holding up, Sergeant?”
He looked over at her and her very pregnant belly. She was standing, arching her back, and twisting slowly from side to side. Playing the role of Akimbe’s very pregnant wife had meant his partner in this op, Sergeant Pina Caldwell, had had to bear much of this physical burden for this operation.
“I’ll be happy if I never have to wear this thing again,” she said as she massaged the muscles of her lower back, “This isn’t quite what I was expecting. Intel had no idea how many people were here or how dug in they were.”
“Safe to say that none of us knew about this,” he said, “That doesn’t change our plans.”
She nodded with a grimace.
“Holly,” Akimbe called to the young girl who was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the cell. Holly had so far exceeded performance expectations for this op. Akimbe made a note to pass along feedback to his Conglomerate reps. “Can you get me back to the landing pad on the plateau?”