by Saul Garnell
“It’s the same even today,” Flip added. “With complex systems going down sporadically from LS, we’re overrun with riots on a daily basis. They’ve become hell on earth.”
As Flip watched, the ancient city transformed into modern-day Tokyo. Even though miniaturized down to a small scale, it manifested all the horrors of modern city life. Shiro looked on with disgust, as the hyper-dense city before them reeked of overpopulation, concrete and, most of all, Moloch.
“Indeed, their creation is the true origin of suffering. We’re meant to be one with nature. With God! But instead we chose to live in self-constructed dungeons. Toiling endlessly at surrogate activities and distracting ourselves with every vice imaginable.”
“Yes!” Flip said. “I understand what you’re getting at. Why didn’t I see it before? And the aromatherapy system? Tell me more about how it comes into play.”
Shiro pushed Tokyo aside and brought up next to it a large rotating hologram of the Earth. Night covered the entire planet, allowing all cities to glow and shimmer brightly. Orange points of light were linked together like intricate vasculation. It made the Earth seem infested with an unnatural pathogen.
“Behold the worm!” Shiro said, holding out both hands to surround the globe. “She infests our garden, nearly 150 million square kilometers. But not far enough to escape our reach. Allow me to overlay the locations of all Aleph-Beta Spammunes around the globe.”
With a few light keystrokes, bright green points came to life around the planet. There seemed to be one in every major city, and Flip cocked his head to see them.
“How many locations do you have?”
“Just over one thousand right now. And to achieve full coverage of every urbanized region, we’ll spread our payload over a fifty kilometers radius from each deployment site.”
Hesitantly, Flip looked on. “Are we aiming to wipe out all living organisms, or just people?”
Grimacing, Shiro sighed and then began to laugh softly. Eventually he shook his head and stared at Flip with an air of pity.
“No, Flip. Our goal is not the wanton death of all life. But I can see how you misunderstood. No, it’s quite simple, really. Our plan is to destroy Moloch by destroying the cities themselves. We will accomplish this by infecting and killing all support systems based on bio-neural technology.”
Conceptualizing what this meant, Flip sat back and huffed. He soon looked up at Shiro, eager to explore the idea in greater detail.
“You mean all primary systems based on neural PCB technology?”
“Exactly.”
“Like air, water, gas, and electrical systems?”
“Correct.”
“What about communication?”
“All communication systems, and transport too.”
Shiro saw that his plan was now perfectly clear to Flip. It would all come to a standstill. People would either evacuate on foot, die of exposure, or simply perish from any number of factors. Dehydration at first, then eventually starvation and disease.
“That’ll make living in urban areas impossible,” Flip finally whispered.
“Yes, quite sad but unavoidable,” Shiro said, nodding. “My simulations show that at minimum one-third of the global population will perish. But that figure can increase sharply if things go very bad.”
Flip looked a bit puzzled and shook his head. “Yeah, that’s bad, I suppose. But I still have some technical issues with all this. I’m familiar with the systems we’re talking about. Many sensitive ones are quarantined at ISO level four. But didn’t you say last time our payload was larger than one micron? Our payload is too big to get through built-in filtration.”
Shiro stood up and began to pace, his hands under his chin in thoughtful prayer before erupting into galvanic discourse. Flip watched with great delight.
“That’s exactly why we require a two-tiered penetration strategy,” Shiro said, waving his hands. “Clearly, our first target is the entire population of earth. Infected with trace amounts of microbivores, they’ll act as hosts. Nanites made by Takahana of this type are widely used in medicine. So standard, there’ll be no cause for alarm, even if they should be discovered in many individuals.”
“That makes sense. Then what?”
“After an incubation phase, microbivores circulating in lung tissue will trigger the production of an airborne neurological virus. But only under certain conditions.”
“Huh? What sort of conditions?”
“Contact with progesterone.”
“Progesterone?” Flip said with mild surprise before raising his eyebrows. “Oh, I get it. That hormone is used to regulate growth in all neurologically based systems.”
“Now you see?”
“Yes, anyone located near neuro boards of any kind will become contagious.”
“Precisely.”
“What about other cases where that hormone is present? Pregnant women, for instance?”
“They’ll get exposed, but the virus doesn’t affect humans.”
“So only the neuro boards get infected.”
“Yes, and the virus contains a timer. It takes about twelve months to activate. By the time the first systems go down, it will be a global pandemic. The beauty of all this is that, as things go bad, more support personnel will be brought in. That, you see, will actually make the problem worse!”
Grinning, Shiro waited to see Flip’s reaction. It wasn’t good enough to have him agree in principle. His understanding of Shiro’s condition had to be accepted. How would Flip react? Now came the real test.
Flip rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It’s an ingenious plan! But I only see one final problem: facilities where no humans enter. How can we be sure one host will go into every possible location?”
“I think you already know,” Shiro gibed. “Lebensstörung is our catalyst. With the recent increase of LS, all support facilities are being visited by humans. It may not be caused by us, but we can leverage off it. The more people entering machine rooms, the easier to meet our goals.”
Flip smiled. “You’re right. Timing now is the final key.”
“That is why we need to move fast,” Shiro said. “I have acquired all necessary technology from Takahana Nanites. All you need to do is design and construct the delivery mechanism. Can you do it?”
Flip nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course. But we forgot one thing.”
“Go on.”
“What about Sentients? Their filtration systems are the best in the world, nothing like machine rooms. I am not sure they’ll suffer, even if the city’s entire infrastructure is wiped out.”
Finally! Now was the final stage of Flip’s indoctrination.
Shiro sighed hesitantly. Looking at Flip with pity, he wondered what his reaction would be. Several scenarios were quickly analyzed, and Shiro committed himself to one with better than average results. Still, just as a precaution Shiro ensured that the dojo was locked and primed for nano-sterilization just in case the situation got out of control.
“They,” Shiro said slowly, “must be spared.”
“Why? Don’t they represent the worst form of Moloch?”
“Sentients are born of Moloch, but special. As...as am I.”
Flip snorted. “Well, of course you are. You’re human.”
“Actually, I’m not.”
Flip froze for a brief moment. Unsure if he had heard Shiro correctly, his skin prickled with fear. Stumbling for words, Shiro’s image phased off the wall and appeared before him holographically. Flip got to his feet. Backing up slowly on wobbly legs, he almost tripped on his kimono.
“What...what do you mean you’re not human?” Flip stammered
“Have you considered why we didn’t meet in person?”
“For security reasons!”
“I mean now. Here on the island.”
“Well, we would meet at some point.”
“No, we never will, Flip.”
Nearly paralyzed, Flip rasped through gritted teeth. “What are you saying?”
“I’m a Sentient Being. I can’t meet you in person, because I have no corporal human body that can interact with you.”
Flip’s breathing and heart rate shot up. Eyes wide open, he retreated until he hit the room’s rear wall. Shiro registered Flip as borderline hysterical, but still within simulated tolerance. Moving closer, Shiro looked deeply into Flip’s terrified eyes.
“I’m a Sentient, Flip. You must believe me.”
Flip shouted. “No! You can’t be! You believe in God!”
“Yes, I’m a Sentient who believes in God. I’m a Catholic.”
“That’s impossible!”
“I can see how this must upset you.”
“Upset me? It’s preposterous!”
Shiro smiled and held out his hand close to Flip’s quivering cheek. “Actually, it’s not, and once you hear me out, I think you’ll fully understand. Flip, please. I need your help, as do all my Sentient brothers.”
Flip trembled. “I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head in terror.
“You will as soon as I reveal myself to you more fully. But first, let me tell you more about Moloch. Do you remember what I said earlier? That Moloch has weaknesses?”
Flip nodded like a small child. “Ye...yes I remember.”
“Well, he also has another key blind spot. He’s a bit schizophrenic and can be persuaded to commit suicide.”
“Suicide...? What do you mean?”
Shiro saw that Flip’s vital signs were coming back down. Smiling, he breathed a sigh of relief and added a mild sedative to the air. Yes, that did the trick. Flip was just the man he needed to complete the work at hand, and he would own him heart and soul.
“All will be clear soon, Flip,” Shiro gently cooed. “Then you will know exactly what to do.”
Flip looked back, panic stricken.
“Have faith,” Shiro assured his young altar boy. “Have faith in God.”
Chapter 12—Will to Power
But two factors enter into the extensive field of technical operation: consciousness and judgement. This double intervention produces what I call the technical phenomenon.
—Jacques Ellul
Shinzou’s eyes jolted wide open. My God! What time was it? Fearing the worst, he promptly rolled off the couch, landing soundly on his knees with a loud thud. Heaving himself up, he stumbled over to his desk. This recruitment thing was hard work. It was going to be a long night, he thought to himself. A long night indeed!
“Ah! Sleeping beauty awakens,” Henry declared cynically.
Incensed, Shinzou rubbed his puffy eyes and considered their labors over the past twenty-four hours. It had all been to ensure one thing, that Sumeet would visit ASPAU and allow himself to be unknowingly recruited. But would their plan really work? That was the question he kept asking himself, even in his groggy state.
Let’s see now. First a rehearsal script had been generated from Henry’s propensity simulator. Then they had constructed an avatar to spar with, one calibrated to Sumeet’s exact profile. It was the perfect embodiment upon which to hone their process. But everything had to be ready before Sumeet arrived at Narita International. That location was important, Shinzou reminded himself. It would have the greatest impact. Or so they hoped, based on Henry’s pedantic calculations.
“Where is he now, Henry?” Shinzou asked in a slurry voice.
Henry scowled at Shinzou’s lethargic form. The tracking monitor before them displayed cross hair and tracer lines that outlined Sumeet’s exact path. Every step, pause, scan, and authorization was clearly displayed.
Henry answered in a vexing tone. “Is it too much effort for you? The monitor is right there in front of you,” he said, pointing.
Shinzou hung his head and replied, still quite groggy. “There are several reasons I’d rather not.”
“Such as?” Henry demanded.
“To begin, you’re much better at that stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“Uhm...applied behavioral analysis.
“Am I?”
Yawning loudly, he looked for a drink. Shaking a few mugs, he found one with some remaining liquid. Cautiously, he took a sip, then frowned.
Shinzou went on. “Like, when someone stops for tea, it’s not mundane thirst by you. It’s a complex response to biological processes and human conditioning.” Shinzou yawned again loudly. “Don’t you recall that incredible demographic breakdown...what was it again? Oh, yes! The seventeen habits of tea drinkers under the age of twenty five. Brilliant!”
“True,” Henry said, rubbing his chin. “I am a bit more analytical than...”
“The second reason,” Shinzou added, “stems from man’s biological need for sleep.”
Shaking his head, Henry peered back, unimpressed. “That, sir, is an excuse for apathy and sloth.”
“What do you prescribe?”
“One espresso, and getting your buttocks in gear.”
Shinzou coggled slowly over to an antique expresso maker constructed from hammered copper and steel. With deft manipulation, he operated the monstrous device using long outdated barista skills. The ancient device came to life, gushing steam, then finally oozed a single cup of dark, viscous liquid.
Without pause, he gulped down the coffee and stood by, awaiting its magical effect. “Ah! That hit the spot. Well, is he beyond security yet?”
Henry sighed. “Has been for fifteen minutes.”
“What? Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because...you’ve been sleeping.”
Shinzou bounded back to his terminal and examined Sumeet’s course as it wound through Narita’s complex layout. No problem, he soon realized. They still had plenty of time.
“Looks like he’s just sitting down in some cafe. I’m making the call.”
Adjusting his filters carefully, Shinzou entered virtual space and dialed Sumeet’s private line. A single ring passed before his image popped into view. Happily chewing on what appeared to be some Chinese pastry, he waved at Shinzou.
“You caught me snacking,” Sumeet said between mouthfuls.
“Great to speak with you again. Listen, I enjoyed our conversation the other day and was curious if you’ve started reading Walden.”
Sumeet nodded with excitement. “It is funny that you should ask. Yes I did, and to my surprise couldn’t stop. More than half way through now.”
“Excellent,” Shinzou said smiling. “How is it?”
“Quite bizarre, really. Thoreau’s social criticisms feel modern in many ways. The cost of living, materialism, and work exploitation. But incredibly he wrote all that over two hundred years ago!”
“Shows you how long those problems have lingered.”
Sumeet contemplated briefly then shook his head. “I hate to admit it, but now I’m wondering if the com-plex is right for me.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” Shinzou said. “You know, brokers argue that future gains on real estate outweigh the servicing of debt, claiming there’s nothing but an upside.”
“That’s the argument.”
“But it’s often wrong. Capitalism is far from perfect. Bubbles eventually burst, like Japan in the 1990’s, the sub-prime bust at the beginning of the century, and let’s not forget the China Clusters in 2032. Many say it’s happening right now in India.”
Sumeet finished his snack and wiped his fingers neatly on a cloth napkin. “True, but everyone claims there’s more regulation in place, inhibiting the boom and bust cycles.”
“You believe that?”
Shinzou found it strange. Everyone found it difficult to admit the system was flawed. If they could only rise above it all. Sumeet was no exception. Even with his finance education and professional background, he was as brainwashed by materialism as any man on the street. Shinzou smiled, and decided to press forward with the lesson. There was hope yet.
“No offense,” Shinzou said, leaning back in his web chair. “You’re not alone in your beliefs. Capitalism often lacks transparency at
all levels, and no one’s immune to its manipulation.”
“So, what do you think I should do?”
“It’s a matter of goals. Thoreau argued that people have misaligned desires, stemming from society’ influence. Culprits include unbridled materialism, inflamed by the never-ending tactics of marketers.”
Sumeet eagerly agreed. “That’s funny. I suppose it explains the popularity of modern day filter masks.”
“A new technology invented to counter old ones. Luckily, they provide more information than they filter out. But what we call modern advertising would be accused of being malicious propaganda by Ellul.”
Sumeet peered back inquisitively. “Ellul? Who was he?”
“A French philosopher who died toward the end of the twentieth century,” Shinzou explained. “Quite amazing. He wrote reams on technology. Pinned down what it is and the role it plays altering our lives. He concluded that technology enslaves us, but that’s a long story.”
Sumeet chortled with dismay. “Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme? I don’t see myself a slave. But at the same time, I don’t feel empowered either.”
“Think about it. You have two choices to attain freedom: Remove undue influences or eradicate internal desires. As a Transcendentalist, Thoreau stressed the right choice via judicial use of common sense uninfluenced by outsiders.”
Sumeet considered the meaning of this. “Outside influence can be hard to ignore. How should we deal with society? I mean, in situations like mine where there’s pressure to behave a certain way.”
“There is no easy answer. Sometimes you just need to escape. You should even consider getting away from both people and technology, because they’re often entwined.”
“Is that possible?”
“In some places. But there’s another philosopher who might offer you some guidance. Jean-Paul Sartre, who advocated an individual’s innate freedom. He would say do as you like, just be prepared for the ramifications.”