Monica didn’t respond.
“Monica?”
She turned in the frame of the door, her eyes wide. “Physically in your meeting? With the Director?”
“No. Not really with him. It seemed, I don’t know . . . the Tech seemed to be there for its own reasons.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t be cryptic. Did it say anything? Jason, this is awful! If the Techs are supporting the Director, or the Council . . .”
“I don’t know. It seemed to be there for its own reasons. It felt different. I can’t really tell you why, though. He greeted me.”
Her hand came up to touch her breastbone, her voice flat. “He? The Tech is a man? What do you mean, it greeted you? It actually said, ‘Hi, I’m Sector Seven! What’s your name?’” Monica moved over to him and Jason bunch his legs and sat up so she could sit down on the couch with him. She voiced a quick command to bring the lights up slightly so they could see each other more clearly as they talked.
“Of course not. It knew me, though. They know everything. It just greeted me in a weirdly robotic way. I broadcast to it. Friendship. You know, a greeting. I didn’t know what else to do, I was so scared.” Jason fiddled with the frilly threads of a pillow and his eyes settled on the dull lights of the kitchen appliances as he told her about his encounter. “It shut me off. It turned off all the biofeedback and all the personal devices I had without blinking. The Tech terrified me when it entered the room and I couldn’t help but broadcast fear for a moment, so it cut me off. Then, when I’d calmed down, it turned things back on for me. I wanted to apologize, so I sent out a wave of friendship, though it was probably pretty feeble since I’d been frightened out of my skin. Then it greeted me.”
“Nothing you do is feeble. Your broadcast abilities are the best there are.” She chewed her lip. “Did it act friendly?”
“Not really, no. More like a robot greeting me when I got home or something.”
She seemed to think about this. “What else did it say? Did it talk to anyone else?’
“No, I don’t know. They entered with it, so it probably talked to them earlier. It didn’t say another word.”
“This could be a disaster! If those things side with the Council, nothing we do will matter.” She slumped down onto the floor. “Realistically, there’s nothing we can do now that will matter either. Jason, all this information is useless. We can’t stop any of this and the Council is going to run the world. Forever, if things go as they plan. But, if Mister Tech thing would help us, maybe we’d have a chance.”
“Monica, seriously. It isn’t going to side with them. He—it isn’t going to stop them either. They never do. They’re totally impassive. Have you ever heard of one changing anything the Council does? Of interfering in anything?”
He watched her mull this over.
“No, you’re right. So why did it show up in the first place?”
He shrugged. “Direct observation, maybe? The changes going on are possibly the most significant shifts in our society right now. The Techs have to know everything so they can make sure society runs smoothly. It’s probably making sure it knows, making sure all nine of them know what sort of world they have to govern.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” She mulled this over, grabbing one of the couch pillows and hugging it to her chest, leaning forward to bow her head as she voiced her thoughts. “Still . . . what if one could be made to intervene? What if some dire threat made them step in? Jason, if we can get a Tech on our side, we could fight this. We might actually be able to do something.”
Jason had to change positions, since the blood to his legs was cut off. He moved to put his legs and feet up on her living room table in front of the couch. “On our side? Are you crazy? It won’t take sides. They have no emotions, no allegiances. It probably considers our problems barely worth noticing. I can’t imagine how much they process in a given second. Our concerns and fears don’t matter in the slightest to something so powerful. For all I know, our lives might be as interesting to them as ants are to us. Come to think of it, they govern ants, too. Literally.”
“Yeah, every living thing and inanimate object that contains nannites or any sort of technology.” She tangled her fingers in her hair. “Maybe there’s a way to make them interested or concerned about us.” She sat up and put her legs out next to his, scooting closer.
“Assuming you can get near one. Or even see it.” He took a deep breath. “Have you ever seen a Tech? Ever? I hadn’t until today. This is probably the first and the last time I’ll ever see one, let alone have a chance to slip it a note asking for help.”
Monica glanced around her apartment and shuddered. “It already knows, Jason.”
He sat up suddenly, afraid. “What? Why do you say that? It can’t know. We’ve only talked about this in private.” His hearing was suddenly picking up every little sound of the apartment, things he subconsciously ignored. The faint clicking of the environmental mechanics, the sound of the food storage. Even the tiny sound of her cleaning robots as they vacuumed the floor in the other room.
“Private? There’s no such thing anymore. Get real.” She gestured around the apartment. “Our personal communicators have been near us every time we’ve talked.” She shook her head. “Shit. I was so sure I still had some privacy. Some place to hide. I feel like a moron. We’re surrounded by technology even in here, or at your place. All this technology is capable of gathering and processing information. Our lives are comfortable because our surroundings gather everything about us and adjust accordingly.” She shook her head. “I’m so blind. I’m a Mechanic, which is like a junior Tech, and I still overlooked the obvious.’
“The Director!”
“Doesn’t know anything. I can almost guarantee it. The Techs really are impassive, Jason. It knows, but it probably doesn’t consider it relevant. Even a direct threat to the life of the Director would be ignored. It would simply process the information like it does everything else and only intervene at the last moment—when and if no other alternative existed.”
She raised her voice slightly, addressing the Tech as if she was sure it heard her. “I know you can hear us. Just remember, our society depends on you. Sometimes it means you have to prevent it from destroying itself. It’s your responsibility!”
Jason stared at her for a moment. “You don’t actually think it will listen to you, do you?”
“Yes, it will listen. I don’t think it will do anything, though. The Council isn’t really threatening society, just changing how it’s ruled. If they tried to kill off everybody, then we’d have help.” She sighed. “But a shift in politics? No, it won’t care. I would be more concerned if it did. They may never interfere for any reason, strictly enforced by some obscure programming and AI rules that govern their actions.” She rubbed her finger over her lip. “If they ever started meddling, we’d be in real trouble.” She let her head fall back against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. “You know, I’m so worried about the Council ruling us, I overlooked the fact we are all virtually slaves to the Techs. If they cared, that is. I’m so beneath them I might as well be a cavewoman.”
They were both silent for a while. Finally, she got up. “Well, I’m going to bed. There’s one thing I can do. Sleep on it. Go to work the next day. Who knows, maybe having an eternally ruling Council won’t matter. I probably won’t even notice.” She seemed resigned, defeated after her revelation of the farce she’d believed about privacy. He understood. They couldn’t protect privacy, even if they had the means. They’d lost privacy long ago.
Drunk enough that he couldn’t focus, Jason let her slip into her room without comment. The room spun and he decided it would be better to pass out and worry about their problems later. He lay back down and pulled the pillow Monica had stolen towards him to put under his shoulder, spreading the blankets back over himself.
Seven
THE NEXT MORNING HIS HEAD HURT too much to really care about anything. He got up and put on h
is dirty clothes and managed to crawl into a hover transport, all the while avoiding waking Monica.
Arriving home, he took a shower, then slipped into his bio-suit and began instructing his nannies to remove the toxins and rehydrate his tissues. He ate, took another vitamin, drank electrolytes. Within an hour, his nannies had him feeling much better.
He felt slightly guilty about his heavy reliance on technology and experienced a brief sense of cheating since he was a doctor capable of instructing his own body. He also felt exposed after the conversation with Monica. How could he have failed to realize his entire biochemical activity could be processed and accessible by the Sector Seven Tech? The naked exposure of his vital statistics unnerved him.
Helpless to do anything about it, he shrugged off the passing concern and decided to go into his new lab. Work seemed the best outlet, and he did enjoy the science of his new project.
The cityscape blurred behind his churning thoughts. Did Techs remember everything they saw? He grinned at the simplicity of his thinking. Of course they did, but likely remembered it in such a foreign way as to make the term “memory” irrelevant. They simply accessed the information already stored in a hundred billion locations on a hundred billion devices, maybe a billion-billion pieces of information. In any case, far more data than he could comprehend.
The new route to his lab gave him something different to watch from his window. A large, shallow lake was busy with activity as birds fished and hunted for crustaceans. The morning light reflected from the surface so brightly that he almost entirely missed the people swimming and playing in the water.
After a few minutes, the automated vehicle landed, and he stepped out onto the unfamiliar pad. A smiling brunette, who appeared to Jason to be a teenager, greeted him and handed him coffee and a display tablet with information about the lab.
“Mister Emerson. I’m Jana. I thought it might be nice for me to take you to the lab personally, as a new space can be mildly disorienting.”
Jason nodded to her. “Hello Jana, thank you. And for the coffee,” he said, raising it up.
She turned and began to lead him toward the entrance. “The Director wasn’t sure if you preferred a young male assistant, but he instructed me to tell you several have been vetted if you wish to make a selection. That list is provided on your display. The rest of your staff is awaiting your summons. Nobody has been permitted to enter your research facility without your approval.”
Geez. Is everyone trying to get me laid? Of course, now that Jason thought about it, it wasn’t uncommon for high-level officials to dally with staff and to select them for this reason—a practice Jason thought disgusting and an abuse of position.
The walk was not long, and Jason sipped his coffee along the way. The complex was almost entirely devoted to the labs for the longevity project. Jana, having not been engaged in further conversation, didn’t say anything else. Apparently, she was instructed to adapt to his mood.
As they approached, he stopped. “I’d like some time to go through things alone, if you don’t mind. I’ll come back out when I’ve taken inventory and have my bearings. Thank you.” He handed her the half-empty cup of coffee.
“Of course, Mister Emerson. I’ll be just down the hall here to the left. Or available via your communicator if you wish. I’ve been encoded as part of your new staff.” She smiled cutely and moved down the hall.
The new lab provided ample space for research teams. The equipment shined: metallic instruments made from cutting-edge materials that conducted nearly zero electricity, heat and glass-like chambers made from a polymer stronger than steel, along with other materials and machines Jason wasn’t familiar with, but which appeared specially designed. Everything seemed to be colored or reflective to suit its purpose. The employment of gravity fields to hold some liquids or objects was curious, but he knew a feature like that would be useful when trying to prevent contact with anything else.
Jason wandered around, touching things randomly, puzzling over devices that looked alien and the uses of which he couldn’t guess. Several new biosuits hung in glass cases, and next to them were vacuum chambers designed to tailor, build, and test nanotechnology. Spider-like arms capable of spinning fabrics rested, awaiting instruction. The lab appeared to contain the most advanced technology available, all at his disposal.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
Jason nearly jumped at the woman’s voice. Dr. Emma Garbine laughed. “Even more impressive is that I snuck up on you. Considering your reputation with biofeedback and empathic response, one would think that impossible. Either your mind is preoccupied, or my suit is malfunctioning.”
He quickly absorbed the information coming in from her suit and smiled. “It’s working fine, Doctor. You’re right, I’m immersed in my thoughts and was not expecting anyone until I’d finished surveying the land.” He gestured around. “I’m hoping someone can tell me what most of this does or I’ll spend an awful amount of time reading manuals.”
She smiled. “Seniority has its privileges. I told that young lady out front that you were expecting me. She couldn’t possibly challenge another senior Medic. As to all of this, we have a full staff of experts on hand and, yes, they are helpful. I’m still trying to figure out what half of the equipment does, myself. We’re supposed to have the staff fine-tune or design anything we might require. No expense spared.”
“Wow. Well, the Director seems eager to pursue things. I can only assume he’s already figured out how to exploit the research.” No use in being subtle. Jason knew they were observed most of the time, so acting naive or false would only trigger suspicion.
“Carlisle wants to live forever and he is slobbering over the opportunity to be young again. Aren’t we all?” Her mouth slipped into a thoughtful moue, her head moving to look at a particularly interesting arrangement of colored objects floating in a silvery liquid. Her long grey braids fell forward as she bent over. “Perhaps not you. Not yet. You’re still young. But your urgency to find a way to remain youthful will change as the clock ticks on and you feel the inevitable creeping up, coupled with the frustration of knowing the science to derail our deaths is nearly at hand.” Her eyes lit up. “It really is that time at last. The opportunity to set aside our mortality and take our next evolutionary steps forward.” She smiled. “Along with the responsibilities and ramifications, which are enormous.”
“So, we’re the logisticians of immortality and the architects working on tearing down the meaning of time itself.”
She straightened, turning to face him. “Time is a human invention. It’s great as a placeholder and I’m sure physicists would happily smack me upside the head with their theories, but let’s face it, it’s a physicist’s teething ring. We made time up and we’re just growing up enough to set our old constructs aside.”
He laughed. “I’m glad it’s so simple. I grow tired of reality as we know it, so let’s just make a completely new one. Fun!”
Emma pursed her lips and shrugged a little. “Let’s sit. Too much walking around hurts my hips.” Jason spied a set of chairs and a small table off to the corner of the suit manufacturing area. He led her over to it and politely pulled out the chair, offering it to her.
She gave a grateful nod and used a hand to stabilize herself as she sat. “This first step—taking away limitations imposed on us by our limited life spans, the depletion of our exuberance, the tiresome worry which urges us to cut corners so our lives will matter—is incredibly important. From here, we give ourselves an unlimited span of what everyone refers to as time to figure out the rest.”
Jason sat in the opposite chair and put his hands on the table, leaning forward to prevent having to raise their voices. “And our souls, Doctor? What of them? What are we giving up?”
She reached out and put her hand on his. “Isn’t that just it? Is it a gift or a trade? Or is it both, depending on who receives it? Or a gift to the individual and a disaster for humanity?” She sighed, removing her hand from his and o
pening her communicator. “Tea?”
Jason shook his head. Emma sent a quick command for tea for herself.
“The biggest problem isn’t figuring out how to outwit time, Jason, it’s figuring out if we should. I’m eager to rush forward, to abandon everything and throw myself into the future. That eagerness frightens me. I’m scared, figuratively, to death we are making a big mistake. We understand our physical form so well that I can reconstruct any one of us from scratch. But we can’t animate bodies with any semblance of life. Not yet. We can emulate and automate, we can merge and become AI, but we don’t understand who we are, what makes us alive. Not really. Arguments against leaving behind our humanity and against immortality have arisen since our earliest records. Cautionary tales of meddling with our fate.”
The robots arrived with surprising speed, efficiently setting a charming replica teapot of ancient design and a small porcelain cup and saucer down in front of Emma. She scrunched her nose in delight. “I love the ritual of tea and the old design of the pots and cups. It’s so quaint. They must have really studied our habits.”
Jason didn’t find being observed and studied as amusing as she did, but said nothing. The robots left as quickly as they’d arrived.
Emma poured the steaming liquid, gently holding the top of the pot in place. “Arguments against immortality and the power to control the physical are no longer relevant. Such advancement cannot be stopped. Now we must ask the question of how we handle immortality and what infinite life means for us. The big question is ‘now what?’”
Jason glanced over across the distance, still taking in the various gear. Everything was so quiet, waiting for him to bring in his staff. The austerity and coldness of the place was heightened by the vast stretches of space between stations. It was not inviting. “Well, there’s the whole question of population. Of jobs and retirement. Of family dynamics. Nobody knows what will happen with innovation and drive, since we will have centuries or millennia instead of the blink of an eye to research. This makes suicide sound like our only option if we don’t like what we discover. I suppose the societal impacts fit into ‘now what?’, but these impacts are a pretty broad consideration.”
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