She lifted an eyebrow and sipped her tea, testing the heat. “Not so difficult to answer. We’ll need population for expansion into the galaxy, so under-population will be more of a problem than having people who live forever. Jobs will become so specialized it will take a normal lifetime of apprenticeship just to start working within each niche, and there will be so many jobs based on galactic expansion we’ll have a shortage of people with enough knowledge.” Emma leaned back, following his gaze.
“It’s a replicator.”
He looked back at her, confused about the shift in conversation. “Huh?”
“That large greyish oven-like thing you’re staring at. It’s a replicator. New design. I guess it is very good at printing almost any tool or part.” She winked at him and sipped her tea again. “I have one in my lab, too.”
Then, shifting back to the original conversation, she said, “Anyway. Galactic expansion paves the way for everyone to be useful, despite living indefinitely. Families will probably form, have children, fall apart, reform, have more children. Family will become a cycle, not a fixed position. Assisted suicide, assuming accidents don’t kill us off, will only happen if people stop dreaming and reaching for those dreams. Research will accelerate because we’ll be able to draw upon knowledge spanning much greater time and vastly broader topics, lending toward better and more accurate insight. Those are easy questions, Jason. What you’ve posed isn’t actually an issue.”
This drew an involuntary bark of laughter from him. “Well, I’m glad you figured those complex problems out before they become large social problems. It’s nice to know you have all them fixed.”
Emma scrunched her nose again, a mischievous little smile playing on her lips. “Yes, well, there will be specifics, but they really aren’t difficult problems to overcome.” With the slowness of age, she reached up and combed a hand over one of her braids, feeling for stray hairs with her free hand. “The big one will be spiritual. What if we are derailing our spiritual purification, our path to higher learning? What if we aren’t even real and we’re finding a way to trap ourselves in the eternal dream? What if there is a God, or several, and we fall outside of His or Her divine intent to be embraced upon our mortal ending? These are the harder questions. These are the things I need to know how to analyze. It all starts with who we are as beings. Not as physical entities, but as sentient and self-aware creatures. What if there is a greater plan and we are moving to a crossroad where we stray from our path?”
He hadn’t thought of this. Something about it worried him deeply. He tried to ignore the deep-seated feeling that she was somehow right. Replying with a tone that conveyed less concern than he felt, he said, “Well, okay, but it’s hard to argue we are under the shelter of a god or ten and then say we are messing up the divine plan. If there’s genuinely a divine plan, argument for it implies it isn’t really possible to do something outside of such a plan.”
“That’s ignorant.” She sipped the last of her tea from the cup, setting it down on the saucer, and undid the last couple lengths of braid to weave back in an errant strand. “There are always stories of mankind being misled and failing the tests set forth. Being able to choose the wrong path means there could be ways of messing up such a plan. Freedom of choice and such. Don’t be daft, Jason. Think about our own evolution. What if we, ourselves, are part of the eternal cycle of God and this is our infancy? What if we become the self-same supreme being some of us now attribute to God? We ourselves could be looking back through time with gentle eyes, unable to interfere with our own past, but we’ve evolved into our own god after millennia. In other words, we could, ourselves, be God. Time really means nothing in such a context, you know.”
His mind swam in that for a moment. It was an interesting thought exercise. Needing to stand, he got up and moved to a nearby device that displayed blank screens. “How deep. Very well—I’ll think these things through a bit. So, what am I supposed to be doing here?”
Jason touched one of the screens and it lit up, becoming transparent. Behind it were a few objects that appeared to be flying drones. Perhaps for gathering materials? They did appear to have collection arms.
Emma stood as well, signaling the robots to remove her tea. “You, my dear, will be working mostly with me. I expect we will need to arrange our teams to meet weekly. You have the strongest control over empathic response of anyone we know. It’s fortunate you are a doctor, but we’d have captured you and brought you here regardless, just because you are the key to our largest issue. I need you for my research. I need you to help me figure out how we work as emotional creatures so I can delve more deeply. Since removing all emotion isn’t a good option, our other option is learning to control our feelings completely.
“For your part, you’ll be working on ways to enhance emotive responses. You will have to test ways to impart your emotive ability, the knack you have for reading others and influencing their emotions. We’ll also need to work on testing how to transfer consciousness to another physical vessel. If we figure out how to transfer ourselves, we need to ensure we don’t lose who we are and our emotional connections. Transferring into a robot would result in a being of pure logic, which could be a disaster. We fear and tightly control our burgeoning AIs for this very reason. You’ll be key in all these areas.”
The robots arrived and removed the teapot, cup and saucer. One put the chairs back in their proper place. Jason barely glanced at them. Another of the windows in the storage unit contained crystalline storage devices. Crystal storage had become the new norm, since they were nearly impervious to damage, held up over great lengths of time, and recorded an enormous amount of data. Perhaps these held manuals. Or maybe they were blank, and he was supposed to use them instead of putting his research on the servers. Keep what he learned secret and localized rather than on the network. He’d have to ask.
Emma moved to his side, also looking at the shards with interest. “As a scientist, you’ll poke and prod your way through all the research like the rest of us. I’m sure you’ll see various areas that require your attention.”
Without thinking, he blurted, “Like what it means to give eternal control to a single group of people over humanity? Let people we may not be able to trust run the show without our best interests in mind?”
She turned her head to look at him, smiling slyly. “Yes, Jason. Problems like a ruling class that needs to be removed must have a solution, too.” She glanced sideways at the surrounding lab, implying not here. “You are as critical to this research as the rest of us. Remember this: possibly more important than any other aspect is that you are unique in the strength of your abilities, which are key to answering some of the questions we have. Don’t underestimate your value or the importance of what you can do.”
He felt unsure and didn’t understand her meaning. Running fingers through his hair, he turned away from the storage container and led Emma back toward the entry doors. She moved slowly, so he didn’t rush. “I’m sure I’m missing something.”
“Haven’t you considered what it means to have the empathic responses you possess?”
“I know I’m going to miss the point, but sure. It means I can work more easily with patients because everyone trusts me. I can calm down even the most panicked and upset person, then I can help them.” He paused uncertainly, remembering the meeting the previous day. “It means, too, that when I lose control, I can make others feel my fear.”
She put a hand gently on his shoulder, halting him. He turned to glance over at her. There was a strange urgency in her voice that demanded his attention. “I can’t tell you how glad I am you are the one we have for this. Jason, if you wanted, you could impose emotions on others. You could force them to do what you wanted. Maybe not yet, but you will. You do this accidentally, not on purpose, but if you strengthen your abilities and, assuming the person you target has nannies for you to work with, which is almost a guarantee in this day and age, you can make them furious or in love. Complete domination. You
are just so good-hearted, you haven’t tried.”
Jason stared at her in shock. “How horrible! We can’t research emotional mind control! I don’t want to be involved in perverting and corrupting the science.”
She removed her hand but kept his gaze for a moment longer. “Pandora’s box, Jason. It’s better to research and develop ways to prevent this than to ignore it, no? Would you rather have someone else figure it out, perhaps in an unmonitored research facility, then use it as a form of control? Will it be you who figures this out, or will it be someone who lacks your ethics?” She reached out to touch his arm and looked meaningfully into his eyes. “No, I rather thought you wouldn’t want someone else gaining this level of control first. You see, here we can figure out how it works and how to govern . . . and how to counter it.” She rubbed her eyebrow with a thumb. “You’re already bursting at the seams. You nearly crippled us when the Tech appeared in our meeting. I haven’t felt such a wave of terror in a long time. My reaction was completely involuntarily, and I couldn’t block you.”
The uses that she hinted at—Jesus! They were evil, horrible. Is that what Faust wanted from him? “What if the research we do is stolen, used against us, or without our knowledge? What if we provided the very means for someone to abuse it?”
“Isn’t such fear true of anything we do? In the wrong hands . . . blah, blah, blah. But honestly, Jason, do you think someone else could exert the kind of control you are capable of? I’ll tell you this, nobody we know can come close. Sure, eventually someone else might be able to do this, but for now, I couldn’t imagine anyone as dear and sweetly naive as you.” Then, sensing his objections, she added, “Yes, the other Medics have some basic ability, but you’re by far the best.”
He nodded, relieved to hear this. Emma touched his cheek fondly. Her lips curled in a half smile. “Besides, the Tech shut you down as if you were a fly. Your broadcast nannite signals are a simple thing for them to turn off or on at will. Anything we come up with, any technology we already possess, is something they can control. It’s the nature of the Tech to immediately absorb knowledge and research, and then control it. Nothing you do can circumvent them. So, don’t worry so much. Clearly, the counter to this already exists by disabling the source. We have no idea how this works in a specific way, but it won’t be terribly difficult to work out.”
Jason was both unnerved and relieved. The helplessness of being crippled by the Tech, to be wholly within its—his—power scared him. Knowing his ability and research could counter Director Faust gave Jason hope, however.
Emma got caught up in a yawn and put her fist to her mouth. “Good to see you, dear. I’m going to finish setting up some new protocols for my staff. I’ll see you later. This was a nice chat, but your own staff is probably anxiously awaiting you.” She squeezed his bicep with some familiarity and smiled when he sent a wave of calm and relaxation at her.
Jason watched her leave then moved through the lab to his new office. The walls were transparent, but he suspected he could make them opaque if he wanted privacy. He sat at his station and found updated and new interfacing technology. Proximity to the lab allowed him access to all the control sets and data, limited only by his security protocols. He could probably access most of this from his home, too, which would be considered moderately secure.
Still not willing to deal with staff, he delayed. For a while, he reviewed the information regarding the updated suits and the specifics of the nanotechnology in regard to emotive response. Jason saw an enormous amount of data regarding the chemicals involved in emotion, but massive fundamental gaps. Chemically induced calm, for example, was simply like taking a sedative. It impaired the individual instead of instilling a genuine feeling. This held true of almost everything regarding emotional control. Medicine could change a person’s normal modus operandi, and drugs such as MDMA could elicit passivity, but these changes were not genuine, and the person knew they were in an altered state. Further, drugs caused a huge drain on physical resources, which left the person requiring a recovery period.
Jason could somehow affect a change in a person’s biochemistry so they truly felt the emotions he projected. In some cases, quite strongly. He’d never really thought about what this meant but could clearly see the importance of the research into emotional control. Fine-tuned and done in secret, from a distance, the person might never be aware of Jason’s manipulation. He could potentially control an individual, even a crowd, without anyone knowing or objecting.
Jason shivered, feeling creepy even contemplating the potential.
An incoming call from Monica made him realize he’d been at the lab for nearly four hours. He accepted the call and agreed to come over for dinner. She told him she’d had to get up and go to work and figured he’d snuck out and gone to bed in his own apartment.
As he disconnected, he indulged in a long stretch and yawn. From the corner of his eye, he noticed someone standing off to his right, quietly observing him. Startled, he turned, then froze. The Sector Tech watched him impassively. He suppressed his panic, overriding the compulsion to run from a creature that controlled all the technology in the sector. A being that knew every little thing that transpired and whose commands would be instantly obeyed.
The Tech simply continued to stare.
Jason rose from his chair slowly. The vastness of the empty lab gave rise to irrational fear, as if witnesses would help save him if the thing decided he was going against the Council. Whatever else the Tech intended, it clearly did not seem to mean him harm. With an effort, he mastered his emotions and tentatively sent a friendly wave of well-being with his nannies. The Tech cocked its head and its eyes narrowed briefly as if processing Jason’s broadcast greeting. The Tech moved toward him, captivating him with that same liquid grace he’d witnessed in the Convene. Despite the fluidity of motion, the thing approached with disconcerting speed. Jason took an involuntary step backward.
A faint whisper of calm came at him from the Tech. Weak and pathetic in comparison to Jason’s capabilities, the returned greeting still hit Jason like a wave. The thing clearly meant to reassure him. He relaxed and stood his ground.
For a moment they just stood there, assessing each other. Then the Tech spoke. “We see you, Jason Emerson.”
He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he raised his hand to shake. The thing cocked its head again, blinking slowly as if trying to maintain focus. Jason could not imagine the huge amount of processing power going on inside its head. With graceful fluidity, it took Jason’s hand in its own.
Jason’s heart felt both a heavy blow and a staggering skip. The intimacy of the grip caught him off guard. He gasped involuntarily but did not let go. He noticed how green the Techs eyes were, how dark his spikey hair, flawless his skin, how muscular his arms. Jason’s perceptions of the Tech changed. It wasn’t a thing. This Tech was a living, breathing being.
The Tech stared at him. Then, it changed the grip of its hand to a grip of the forearm in a curiously familiar gesture, stepping closer.
In a wildly irrational way, Jason felt an immense attraction. He crushed it out of his thoughts, but no amount of control he could exert could hide anything from a Tech. It knew. He almost burst out laughing at the absurdity.
“We see you, Dr. Emerson. We are glad.”
“I . . . I see you, Tech. Sector Seven. I see you, too.”
He didn’t know what else to say. The thing still had a firm grip on his arm. Jason didn’t care. Something about the appearance of the Tech and its curious familiarity struck Jason as worrisome. He knew the Tech must be here for some deeper reason than simple concern, but it clearly couldn’t be to arrest or seize him.
Abruptly, the otherworldly distance returned to the Tech’s green eyes and it let him go. “We must go.” Without waiting for a response, it turned and strode lithely, rapidly, from the room.
Jason let out an explosive breath and slumped back into his chair. He realized his hands were trembling. He ran his fingers through his ha
ir and continued to stare at the door. After a bit, Jason summoned his staff and spent the rest of the day familiarizing himself with the people under him and the equipment. He’d have to go back and memorize their names, since his mind wasn’t on-task completely, but it was nice to see faces for now. It would take weeks to fully comprehend the tools at his disposal, but the science of everything helped take his mind off greater concerns. At last, when he’d spent an adequate amount of time with everyone, he let them go home. As the lab emptied, his mind filled again. Sector Seven was playing at something beyond his comprehension. He nearly fled the building, catching a gravity transport back to his apartment.
• • •
He prepared a decent meal to keep his hands busy, but his mind would not quiet. With controlled precision, he ate and cleaned up the kitchen. He tried to busy himself with various tasks, continuing his reading and answered a note from Dr. Emerson that indicated he should prep by learning more about his new team. He looked up his staff and made sure he’d memorized their names. He read some of their backgrounds, making notes. However, he simply couldn’t calm himself. His lip chewing had become nearly painful.
Without knowing what else to do, he decided to go to Monica’s apartment to wait for her.
By the time he finally met up with her, Jason had resorted to pacing the block, having unsuccessfully sat at a nearby coffee shop, trying to read. His body required motion, and his continuous circling of the block around her apartment had raised a few eyebrows from her neighbors.
Monica scowled when she saw him. She grabbed him by the arm in exasperation and nearly drug him up the stairs. Her arms and face were smeared in an oily brownish-black fluid. Even her luxurious wealth of black hair was tangled and greasy from her work.
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