Her Mind's Eye

by D C Vaughn

  Colin nodded, as much in reverant awe it seemed as she was.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘You’re seeing what they’re seeing in real time, barring a couple of nanoseconds in transmission of course, and in a couple of cases you’re seeing what they’re thinking.’

  Colin gestured to one of the screens. To her amazement, it contained not one but two simultaneous images. She could see that the person was walking down a flight of stone steps, watching where they were going. At the same time on the screen she could see a vague image of what looked like snap shots of a night out, a bar, women walking through a town beneath the glare of streetlights, like photographs flickering into and out of existence.

  ‘They’re thinking,’ Colin said, ‘perhaps reminiscing. The software Neuray uses can’t always distinguish between thoughts and reality, especially if the subject has a particularly visual imagination. They’re working on improving that right now. It’s what Sam was involved with in the research.’

  Rebecca felt almost ashamed, wanted to avert her eyes from the most private live feed she’d ever seen. Forget civil liberties, Big Brother, invasive privacy laws and other infrigements into personal lives, this was the Mother of All Invasions. She couldn’t even begin to know where to start.

  ‘How is this even possible?’ she uttered.

  ‘We think that the technology developed in Japan was seized, mostly by military contractors. The United States has a law that allows the government to seize any invention, no matter how important or valuable, if it is deemed to threaten the security of the USA. The inventors are not compensated and are often forced to sign Non–Disclosure–Agreements on threat of charges of treason, which carry a life sentence over there.’

  Rebecca simply couldn’t take her eyes off the screens.

  ‘And then the military carried on the work,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. It’s all paid for under so–called Black Budgets in the USA and a similar system here in the UK, finances that remain beyond the reach of Congress or Parliament. National Security and all that. The original breakthrough in Japan occurred well over a decade ago. What you’re seeing are the fruits of the years’ of R&D that have occurred since. You’re a detective, I don’t think I need to elaborate on how valuable this technology would be in the military and industrial sphere.’

  Rebecca’s mind whirled as she thought about the possibilities and the implications. Military forces could spy on their enemies in real–time; the police could track criminals directly, catch them in the act; accident victims could be found; crimes witnessed in real–time by eye–witnesses would be admissable in court for the first time.

  Sam had often spoken about his work, although never in detail as he was under strict orders from Neuray as part of his contract to not disclose details of the systems he was designing. Rebecca had always admired what he was doing, what Neuray was doing; developing neural networks and biological power systems that allowed the spinal cord to pass messages around injuries, potentially helping the disabled to walk once again, giving mobility to war veterans injured in the field and myriad other medical advances that he had often said would change the face of humanity forever. Maybe this had been what he was really talking about. The opportunities were endless, as long as everyone of course agreed to have…

  ‘Do these people know they’re being watched?’ she asked.

  Colin spoke slowly.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s why Sam and I were working together, why I can’t go to the police. We didn’t agree with what’s being done, Rebecca. We were going to blow the whistle. That’s when Sam was shot.’

  Rebecca stared at the screens for a moment longer, unable to resist the incredible lure of watching a person’s life unfolding in real time through their own eyes. There was nothing that the people on the cameras could do to stop her, nothing that would prepare them for knowing that every single second of their lives was under observation.

  ‘Who else knows about this?’ she whispered.

  Colin shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but not many people. The R&D for this is kept under wraps in an off–site laboratory out on Dartmoor called Okehampton.’

  Rebecca had heard of Okehampton Battle Camp, a military training base on the northern edge of the Dartmoor National Park. She knew that Sam had been sent there on numerous occasions in the past, often for days at a time, but he had never spoken about the work that he did there and she had never asked, understanding the importance of the security around it.

  Rebecca had known full well, and Sam had confirmed it, that no technology was ever developed without the Ministry of Defence assessing its capacity for militiarisation. Anything that could be used to give NATO a battlefield advantage was bought up or licensed by the MOD and developed for that purpose.

  ‘You’re saying that the MOD killed Sam?’ Rebecca asked finally.

  Colin shook his head.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t think so. You see, there are all these people who blow the whistle on all kinds of American secret programs, send them to Wikileaks or whatever, and they don’t wind up shot or dead in a ditch somewhere. I don’t think that the governments of our country engage in that kind of silencing operation any more.’

  ‘Well, who then?’

  ‘Maybe competitors who wanted to get an edge and thought that Neuray was getting too far down the line with the technology? I don’t know, and I don’t want to say too much because I don’t want to say the wrong thing and send the police after the wrong people. All I can tell you is that if Sam was shot in a random mugging attempt it’s the biggest damned coincidence that I’ve ever heard of.’

  Rebecca glanced again at one of the screens. She saw a beautiful forest, mist hanging amid the trees and in the distance, mountains soaring into the sky. To her amazement, fireballs of light streaked through the heavens, and then quite suddenly she saw a group of children skipping through a lake as the day suddenly became night. The forest vanished and was replaced by the interior of a pub, people laughing in apparent silence.

  ‘What’s going on there?’

  Colin glanced at the screen, and smiled faintly. ‘They’re asleep,’ he replied. ‘They’re dreaming.’

  Rebecca felt a supernatural awe creep over her. Even a person’s dreams could be seen, like watching a movie in soft–focus, flitting from one hazily recalled event to another.

  ‘This is creepy,’ she whispered, as though afraid that the people on the screens could hear her. ‘They must have something attached to them to make this happen, right?’

  ‘Used to be that they had to be wired to computers and MRI scanners, electrodes all over their heads, classic science fiction stuff. Now, they don’t even know they’re carrying.’

  ‘Carrying what?’

  Colin tapped his head. ‘Neuray chip,’ he said as though it was self–explanatory.

  ‘Bullshit,’ Rebecca shot back. ‘That’s not possible.’

  Colin reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. In a moment, he had pulled off the back cover and prized out the SIM card from within.

  ‘The size of a fingernail,’ he said as he held it up to her. ‘You’ve had one in your mobile phone for years. The technology to do what you’re seeing here doesn’t require storage, because we have the cloud for that now. All it needs, to do what it does, is a connection to the human neural cortex and a source of power, and you’d be surprised how much electrical activity there is in the average human brain.’

  Colin snapped the SIM card back into place.

  ‘You’re telling me this is all being sent over a bloody mobile network?’

  ‘A secure one,’ Colin confirmed, ‘but the same technology none the less. Think about it. Your mobile phone can send large images across the network in seconds. It can process and store huge amounts of data with its memory chip. But to relay data requires far less power, just a military–grade SIM card and a site for processing that data. The implant is just a go–between, and it’s small enough that i
t can be placed without the carrier ever knowing it’s there. It’s actually smaller than a SIM card.’

  Rebecca shook her head. It was all too fantastical to accept, too much science–fiction. ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘Neither did I,’ Colin replied. ‘It’s why I knew that you had to see it yourself, else you’d write me off as insane. You can Google this stuff, it’s not fantasy. The University of California in Berkeley created the concept, called it “neural dust”, and Neuray used it to build their chip. Thousands of biologically neutral microsensors convert the signals detected inside the brain, and it’s made from what’s called piezoelectric material, so it gets its power from the body’s own electrical discharges. The American military has in the past confessed to spending over seventy million dollars on technology designed to control people’s thoughts and emotions, and former President Obama’s BRAIN initiative is tied into similar programs by the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, known as DARPA.’ Colin took a step toward her. ‘This is out there, right now, and it’s being tested on people who don’t even know it. The whole thing is an affront to civil liberties, and it’s happening here and in other countries, and not a soul will believe it unless it’s put right in front of their eyes.’

  Rebecca took one last glance at the images on the screens, and then she made a decision.

  ‘I need to take this to my colleagues,’ she said. ‘If Sam was working on something like this and it got him killed, they’re going to need to know about it.’

  ‘You can’t,’ Colin said. ‘The moment this gets out, I’ll be in prison for thirty to life if not dead like Sam, and you’ll be a target too.’

  ‘I have to report it,’ Rebecca insisted.

  ‘You have to lie low! This isn’t just about you, or Sam. This is about something that’s happening right now, yet nobody knows about it. It’s being kept quiet, and in my experience that means trouble. What do you think is going to happen if governments start implanting people with this technology in hospitals, in operating theatres? Christ, you’ve seen what’s happening in the world of nano–technology lately, machines the size of pinheads? They could slip them into drinks and they’ll build these damned chips in–situ! Surgeons won’t have to implant them into people!’

  Rebecca didn’t quite believe that was possible, but at the same time she was becoming rapidly and uncomfortably aware of just how little she knew about the incredible advances in science around the world, and how one discipline could suddenly cause a quantum leap in another.

  ‘I can’t just sit on this,’ Rebecca snapped.

  ‘I don’t want to either, that was what Sam and I agreed, but you can’t just go out there and shout as loud as you can. That’ll give them the chance to ridicule you, to make the world think you’re a murderer with paranoid delusions. Believe me, they’ve done it before. If you want to expose what they’ve done, you’re going to have to do it some other way.’

  ‘What other way? I can’t just walk into a military camp, and you won’t show the world all of this. What the hell am I supposed to do?’

  Colin sighed.

  ‘There is another way,’ he said. ‘Before he was shot, Sam downloaded all of the chip data from Neuray. He basically copied the lot. The idea was that if he felt he was in danger, or he believed that Neuray was going to do something truly immoral with the technology they’d developed, he’d release all the files to the media or Wikileaks or whatever. With everything in the open, he might lose his job but he wouldn’t lose his life.’

  Rebecca stared at Colin. ‘You mean that there’s critical evidence out there that the police don’t know about?’

  ‘Yes. Sam had encoded all of the test chips that you’re seeing here on the screens with a security profile, a password if you like, that would prevent them from being hacked. He didn’t want the chips being used by anybody else. When he stole the data from Neuray, he took the codes too so that the individuals implanted with chips couldn’t be directly tracked by Neuray, only observed. The trouble is, Sam never told me where he put that data.’

  Rebecca rubbed her aching temples. ‘He never told me any of this. How the hell am I supposed to know what he did with it?’

  ‘I don’t know. That’s why I came to you. I’m a computer geek, you’re the detective. I was hoping that you’d find a way to bring this all out into the open.’

  Rebecca felt certain that Colin was telling her the truth, but at the same time she could not believe that Neuray would orchestrate the murder of Sam Lincoln just to cover up some ultra–secret program. If he did have evidence of some kind then he would have hidden it well, and she had a suspicion that she knew precisely where that would be, but she could not hope to go there.

  There was only one real option for her right now.

  ‘I’m going to need some time and you’re going to need to lay low, or you might become the next victim in all of this,’ she said. ‘Is there a number I can call you on?’

  ***

  XXII

  ‘Rebecca!’

  Ashton Kershaw was already up on his feet and walking toward her when his secretary let her into the Neuray founder’s office.

  ‘So good to see you on your feet again,’ he greeted her warmly as he embraced her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she replied, returning the embrace.

  Ashton gestured for her to take a seat as he moved across to a coffee machine and began pouring her a cup. He didn’t need to ask how she took it, having done so many times before in the past when she had visited the Neuray site after work to meet with Sam.

  The Neuray building was typically modern, constructed from alumiunium and adorned with mirrored black windows that overlooked a spartan industrial park just outside Exeter. It was the kind of place where countless business thrived but at the same time seemed permanently deserted but for the cars parked outside.

  ‘How is the investigation going?’ he asked her as he prepared her coffee. ‘Has there been any word about Samuel?’

  ‘I’m on leave,’ Rebecca replied, deciding to sheild Ashton from the truth a little. ‘Too close to home. There’s another CID unit working the case.’

  ‘Of course,’ Ashton understood immediately as he put a coffee in front of her and sat down at the desk. ‘Such a terrible business. I’d have hoped that by now they would have found whoever committed this awful crime. They said on the news that they suspect it may have been a mugging gone wrong?’

  Rebecca felt the tingling hand of prickly heat contract around her neck.

  ‘We’re not sure. There’s little CCTV coverage unfortunately, and a potential witness to the attack was unfortunately found dead in the water yesterday.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ashton said, ‘so I heard. Incredible. Two murders in the same spot in as many days.’

  Rebecca glanced around at office. It was decorated in an old–fashioned way, lots of thick carpets and polished oak that contrasted sharply with the exterior of the building and betrayed the company’s origins with Ashton more than twenty years before.

  ‘There is some evidence that the killings may be connected,’ she said.

  Ashton raised an eyebrow. ‘To Sam? In what way?’

  ‘Both individuals were carrying no identifying documents and I haven’t been able to trace either of them. There have been no witness reports, no missing persons reports, nothing. It’s as though neither of the victims ever existed.’

  ‘That is strange,’ Ashton agreed. ‘I understood that one of them was a homeless man. Perhaps he simply did not want to be found, or had forgotten his own past? Most of them are known to be heavy drinkers.’

  ‘It’s possible, and the CID team might have identified him by now,’ Rebecca replied. ‘Thing is, the coroner’s report said that the homeless victim, who called himself Greaves, was a habitual drinker like you’d expect. However, the other victim was extremely fit and healthy, with no evidence of any of the maladies associated with alcoholism or a homeless life.’

  Asthon held her gaze for a
moment. ‘I’m not following. You said that the police thought the two deaths are related, yet they appear completely different victims?’

  ‘Different in lifestyle, the same in anonymity,’ Rebecca explained. ‘The chances of finding two unnconnected bodies in the same stretch of water, along with a third disappearance? It’s far too coincidental. We think that there is some kind of local connection, CID are looking into it right now. Does Neuray ever have any contact with the outside community, any kind of link at all?’

  ‘Occasionally,’ Ashton replied. ‘I think that the CEO started an outreach program last winter, offering medical aid, soup kitchens and the like to local communities. But how is it possible that Samuel’s death was somehow linked to the two victims you’ve already located?’

  Rebecca chose her words carefully. ‘Is there anything at Neuray that Sam could have been involved in that might have attracted the wrong kind of attention to him? I know that many of the programs here are classified and cannot be discussed, but do any of them represent something that other people, other countries even, might consider a threat?’

  Ashton looked at her for what felt like several seconds, and then he stood from his desk. His expression was so serious that for a moment Rebecca thought that he was going to ask her to leave.

  ‘It’s a little stuffy in here,’ he said. ‘Would you mind?’

  Ashton walked to the office windows, and one by one he opened them, allowing the cold air to breeze through the room. With it came the sound of traffic, wind, birdsong, the sounds of life outside permeating the room as Rebecca slipped her coat back on. Ashton returned to his seat and spoke softly.

  ‘I must ask that what we discuss here remain between just the two of us, Rebecca,’ he said. ‘I hope that you can understand that Neuray’s work goes far further than just the medical and rehabilitation programs for which we’re known.’

  ‘Of course,’ Rebecca replied, keeping her own voice low as she realised why Ashton had opened all the windows. The white noise of life outside presumably might confuse any listening devices.