Holo Sapiens

by Dean Crawford

  Noble aims.

  Arianna did not understand how they did it. Holonomic Brain Theory, as it had become known in its infancy, had bored her witless at school and like most science subjects seemed forever beyond the realm of her mental capacity, like a distant star simply too far away to ever see or examine. All that she had been able to retain was that for some reason, brains worked like a hologram, a three dimensional one at that, where the power of the neurons within was amplified massively by their ability to relay information in three dimensions. By contrast, ordinary computers worked via linear circuits that could not possibly hope to compete with the human brain, despite that brain being a lump of tissue requiring no more power than a light bulb.

  This remarkable discovery had then been swiftly allied to two more extraordinary scientific breakthroughs made by people with brains the size of continents who no doubt viewed people like Arianna in the same way that she viewed single–celled organisms swimming in murky pools.

  The first truly operable quantum computers made it beyond the secretive halls of the military and intelligence communities and into hospitals and public research companies. Essentially able to make calculations in multiple universes, whatever the hell that meant, a single one of the things could do more calculations in a second than every standard computer on the planet at that time. In other words, super computers took on a whole new meaning.

  Somewhere, somebody far smarter than she had realised that combining the computers with modern brain–scanning techniques could, in theory, recreate parts of a brain in such detail that they could be modelled as three dimensional holograms that would integrate with an existing brain to replace damaged areas. Power for the holographic sections would come from the human body’s own electrical output as the holographic brain sections did not need to be visible, the light only requiring weak output to perform its functions. In essence, a three dimensional holographic brain acted exactly like a three dimensional physical brain, a sort of ethereal replacement.

  The success of the first small transplants opened the floodgates: laws were passed allowing the rapid spread of the technology into operating theatres across the country. Further laws allowed “brain bypass” operations in the event of major trauma from accidents or novel disease, the tactile nature of holographic light allowing the owner’s newly created brains to seamlessly re–connect severed spinal cords. The still–working parts of the physical brain accepted the holographic replacements as though they were entirely natural, presumably because they operated in the exact same way. They carried information, like trillions of optical fibres. Paralysis victims learned to walk again. The blind, to see. The deaf, to hear.

  It was, Arianna guessed, only a matter of time before somebody attempted the impossible and recreated a human being in entirely holographic form. Too curious to think about the dangers, too excited to consider the possible consequences. She herself had read of the early fears of pioneers in the field, that without natural selection there would be no way for the holosaps to evolve defences against flaws in the system. What if sickness could be digital as well as biological? What about identity theft? Could the human brain handle immortality without collapsing into psychosis or degeneration?

  As ever the pioneers forged ahead regardless when The Falling emerged, a great sacrifice by the living on behalf of the partly dead.

  ‘What did the police want with you?’ Alexei asked.

  Arianna blinked herself back into the present. ‘They arrested me for your murder and for trying to blow up the Re–Volution building.’

  ‘Pah! Damned fools, all of them.’ He looked at her. ‘You didn’t, did you?’

  Arianna stared at him. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘No. I know how you feel about holosaps.’

  ‘I’m sorry you got uploaded,’ Arianna said. ‘I know it wasn’t what you wanted.’

  ‘It was the last thing I wanted,’ Alexei sighed. ‘But I was murdered, Re–Volution got the alert signal from my chip and rushed to the scene with the emergency services. They’re not going to pass up the chance that I saw my killer and abandon any hope of a conviction. Sometimes it’s helpful to be uploaded I suppose.’

  ‘They wouldn’t pass up the chance of your payment for upload either,’ Arianna snorted as she finished drying her hair.

  ‘At least I had the option,’ Alexei shrugged.

  Arianna glanced across the room before she could stop herself. A small holographic image of her son, Connor, hovered over the centre of her equally small dining table. Arianna felt tiny pricks of pain in the corners of her eyes. ‘He still smiles, in my mind.’

  ‘I’m sure he still smiles, wherever he is.’

  Like most all folk, a place in the holosap colony was a dream that would remain forever beyond their reach. Most people could no longer afford even to be buried, their remains cast instead into mass crematorium furnaces and returned to the ashes and dust from whence they had come. That Connor had died a year before he could have had a chip fitted was a cruel blow that clashed with Arianna’s deeply held beliefs. In a world where so few people had faith, how could God have forsaken her? How could Gods forsake any of His faithful? It would have been so easy to protect Connor. She could have gone to Alexei, tried to somehow save Connor’s essence and perhaps even try to have him secretly uploaded, just in case. But she had not done so, because she believed.

  Then again, no decent mother plans to lose their child.

  In the end Connor had died peacefully in his sleep, Arianna wearing a hazardous materials suit and holding him in her arms while anaesthetics were pumped into Connor’s body to ease his suffering. His heart gave out a few hours later.

  ‘Are you all right my dear?’

  Arianna realised that she was holding her hands clenched before her, her gaze passing straight through the holographic image of Connor and beyond into some interminable place wherein her grief resided, festering and sick.

  ‘No,’ she admitted.

  Alexei watched her for a long moment before he spoke, and she could tell that he was choosing his words with care.

  ‘My offer still stands, Arianna,’ he said. ‘I know that you are opposed to it but it is the least that I can do.’

  Arianna sighed and turned to look at Alexei once more.

  ‘I don’t want to live for eternity,’ she said finally. ‘I know that you mean well papa, but I have to believe that he’s out there somewhere waiting for me. I can’t live a hundred lives wondering if my little boy needs me.’

  Arianna realised that she sounded almost pleading.

  ‘I know,’ Alexei replied. ‘I feel the same about my parents, and my brothers. I can see where Gregory Detling is coming from now.’

  His gentle old smile calmed her now just as it had always done.

  ‘Give the ticket to somebody who wants it,’ she said finally, ‘a child, somebody who won’t survive without it.’

  Alexei nodded, but concern creased his features as he watched her.

  ‘Alexei, I’ll be fine,’ she insisted, snapping herself out of her torpor. ‘It’s what I want.’

  ‘I know,’ Alexei repeated. ‘That’s not what bothers me, Arianna.’

  ‘What, then?’

  ‘Just take extra care my dear, after all that’s happened. Promise me.’

  Arianna chuckled. ‘I promise, okay? What’s gotten into you? I’m a big girl now, I can take care of myself.’

  ‘And I was a big man who could hold his own, too,’ Alexei replied. ‘What bothers me is that the people who attacked me knew enough to get into my house unopposed by the security systems. They must have studied me, my movements, my family.’

  Arianna slowed as she looked at Alexei.

  ‘You don’t know that,’ she said. ‘It could have been an opportunistic attack.’

  ‘I lied to the police,’ Alexei said. ‘I did hear their voices. They asked me questions, Arianna, like they were looking for something.’

  ‘Looking for what?’

  Ale
xei shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Please, just talk to the police. If my killers think that you might eventually identify them, they may try to ensure your silence.’

  Arianna swallowed thickly. ‘Do you really think they’d bother with me?’

  ‘They were professionals, Arianna,’ he said. ‘And what’s worse is the fact that I still have no idea why they killed me. You could be in great danger.’

  ***

  12

  Parliament, Westminster

  ‘The time is now.’

  The Prime Minister’s voice carried solemnly across the gathered ministers crowding the chamber, spoken not with force but with a conviction that brooked no argument.

  Tarquin St John stood upon a raised podium that overlooked the opposition, his gaze boring into every man’s eyes. He was dressed in an expensive, dark suit that contrasted sharply with his shock of white hair. Shafts of intermittent sunlight shimmered down through the high chamber windows to glow like a halo around him.

  ‘By what measure do we call ourselves human? Is it that we feel, or touch, or see or any one of our many senses? No? Then is it because we are self aware, sentient, conscious beings controlling our own destiny? Not that? Perhaps it is our empathy, or our spirit, or some ephemeral essence of which we are aware and yet unable to touch with our hands or our minds? I ask you, all of you, to tell me which of those many possible things separate us from our holographic brethren who even now stand among us as citizens of this once great, and still great, nation?’

  The house remained silent, watching the Prime Minister with rapt expressions.

  ‘Is it, then, my fellow human beings, that there is nothing that makes us different from the holo sapiens with whom we now share this world? But for our spite, our fear and our prejudice against those who are different?’ St John’s eyes swept the chamber as though encouraging any man to challenge him, and then gestured up to the highest tiers of the chamber. There, sitting on holographic seats, were ranks of perhaps thirty holosaps. ‘Could you explain to our honourable friends here in the chamber why they are denied access to their companies, their fortunes and their futures?’

  Murmurs drifted across the seated politicians and dignitaries like an errant ill wind as St John continued, his big, broad hands animated as he spoke as though he were silently scything down any opposition.

  ‘Have we not been here before, so many times? Must I list the countless reasons mankind has subjugated, imprisoned, outcast and killed millions for nothing more than their appearance or disease, religion, race and colour. Is it right, in this day and age, that fully sentient, conscious and active human beings should be prevented from having their fair say in the matters of the world simply because they have undergone a transformation that was once considered the end of all things: death? There is no longer any such thing as death, only a new evolution of mankind’s journey from primeval ape to sentient custodian of our world.

  ‘Is what we have achieved so unusual? There are those few who scorn the holosaps as abominations, insults to the gods of times past. For millennia, in the face of the unknown we grovelled on our knees before gods in temples across the world, and what did it achieve compared to our ability to conquer that same unknown while standing on our feet?’ He let the audience digest his words, let them wait for more. They waited. ‘We have adapted, and we have overcome. One more step, one more leap, one more victory in a human story that has endured war, famine, disease, natural disasters and our own hellish destruction of the climate and environment and yet still prevailed. I motion this bill not because I believe that it is of benefit to our nation but because I believe that it is our future, that our ascent to immortality is not just another technological marvel but is now an essential component of our survival as a species upon our planet.’

  St John’s fist had been clenched before him as he spoke, and he gently let it unfold as he went on.

  ‘It is said by our brightest researchers that no species of creature known to science has survived more than two million years before becoming extinct. Mankind has existed in much the same form for approximately that length of time. Our evolution has ceased as we have learned to manipulate our environment to suit our needs. Now, we are suffering the results of our greed and arrogance; fossil fuels are all but depleted, nations have fallen, grain is in short supply and our climate has changed beyond all recognition. Yet even all of these challenges could have been overcome were it not for The Falling, a crisis that even our best and brightest have failed to defeat. This, gentlemen, is where we should end. This moment should be the final chapter in our human story.’

  St John swept the chamber once again with his icy gaze, and saw that every pair of eyes was upon him, that no man spoke, that all awaited his words.

  ‘I truly believe that this is the beginning.’

  Dozens of his party members bolted to their feet as a tsunami of rapturous applause thundered through the chamber and broke against the immovable might of Tarquin St John. He waited for their approval to die down before he spoke.

  ‘It is rare that a citizen speaks to this chamber, but I would like to introduce you to Kieran Beck, the Chief Executive Officer of Re–Volution and the architect of our salvation.’

  The ministers applauded loudly as Kieran Beck took the podium. Shorter than the Prime Minister by several inches, and with black hair swept across his forehead with such gelled precision as to appear painted–on, he smiled shyly at the men gathered before him.

  ‘Gentlemen, I appreciate the chance to speak with you directly,’ Beck said. ‘I shall be brief. Humanity is facing extinction. In the absence of any cure for The Falling, and with resources almost completely exhausted, it would be as remiss of us all not to plan for the worst than it would be to hope for the best.’

  Beck glanced at Tarquin St John briefly before continuing.

  ‘The Prime Minister knows well how hard my staff and I have worked to provide a workable, long term solution to humanity’s vulnerability to The Falling. It is not perfect, but then this is not a perfect world. If it were, The Falling would not have occurred. We cannot run any longer. We cannot hide any longer. Either we fall together as human beings or we stand together as holo sapiens: there can be no middle ground. My company offers you all an upload, regardless of your financial or personal status, in order to sustain the political power and structure of this country in the event that it is overrun by the disease which haunts us all.’

  A gasp fluttered across the gathered ministers of all parties as Kieran Beck offered them a curt nod.

  ‘Our survival is more important than revenue,’ he said with a final flourish and a smile. ‘Without good governance, the populace would be in chaos. I hope that my offer goes some way in helping you all to come to terms with the difficult decisions that will be made over the coming days.’

  Kieran Beck stepped down off the podium, as the Prime Minister retook his position.

  ‘I request, with all due respect,’ St John urged, ‘that the chamber pass the Bill of Rights that will finalise holosap independence in both civil and human rights, allowing them to once again become fully integrated members of society. I do this not for personal preference or gain, but because I believe that our ascent to a higher level of being was heralded by the appearance of the first holosap, and that we should embrace this new existence with open arms because to not do so is to consign the human race to extinction. They do not need to eat. They do not grow old. They do not start wars. They do not end lives. They do not deplete the world’s resources and, most importantly of all, they do not suffer disease. The holosaps of this world are the greatest and most ecologically sound members of our society and dare I say it, the most humane!’

  Another tumult of applause raced around the chamber as Tarquin St John raised his fist into the air once more and his voice thundered across the house.

  ‘The age of Homo sapiens has ended! Let the age of Homo immortalis begin!’

  The applause crashed through the house as St
John took his seat once more among his fellow politicians. The Speaker of the House stood and addressed the audience in a voice that sounded thin after St John’s grand oratory.

  ‘We have fought long and hard for the recognition that our enlightened brothers deserve, the same human rights they and their forefathers fought hard to preserve during their tenures upon our planet. They deserve acceptance as a new species of human being, as Homo immortalis. Now, I ask of you on their behalf to pass the laws necessary to provide holosaps with a lasting dignity – independence of power and a say in the politics and the economies of today. Ladies and gentlemen of the house, I take it that there are no dissenters?’

  St John swept the chamber with his gaze as though daring a man to speak out against him. His granite hewn features slipped a little when, from the gathered politicians, a single hand rose up.

  ‘Minister Hart?’

  A small man stood up, appearing uncomfortable under the gaze of several hundred pairs of eyes. A podgy hand dabbed at a sweaty forehead with a handkerchief, the densely gathered humanity creating a humid atmosphere within the chamber.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Hart said in a voice so soft that it would not have been audible but for the amplifiers that were switched on suddenly to convey his words. ‘I appreciate the vigour in the Prime Minister’s speech, and I appreciate also how it has been used skilfully to manipulate the house into openly voting for the bill for holosap rights to pass. However I believe this to be a mistake.’

  Another breeze of mutterings drifted through the air, this time cold and dismissive as though a hundred of Hart’s peers were disapproving and rolling their eyes at him. The minister took a breath and continued.