by John Akers
“Not to mention a deadly one, in many cases,” said Elena. “Apostates are not looked upon kindly in most traditions.”
“Absolutely,” said Angelo. “But the absence of any answers to the existential questions, even imperfect ones, is just as frightening for many people as is fear of reprisals for disagreeing. Without a cognitive and spiritual framework for making sense of the world and how to exist in it, one is left an infinitesimal, unimportant speck in an unimaginably vast and chaotic universe.
“One of the unique problems humanity has intensified for itself, thanks to science, is we now have a much greater awareness of how incomprehensibly vast and complex the universe really is. In its quest for answers, science has only increased the existential unease many people feel. It has uncovered an endless, ever-expanding universe, cracked the genetic code, exposed the Higgs Boson, and uncovered the existence of dark matter, but it still can’t explain why it all happened or what it all means.”
Pax waved his hand dismissively. “Perhaps, but if it weren’t for science and engineering, we’d all still think the Earth is flat and the center of the heavens.”
“I’m just saying don’t treat science as a panacea,” said Angelo. “Science can prove the world isn’t 6,000 years old and wasn’t built in 7 days, but can it show you how to be a good person? Or more importantly, why you should be?”
“Exactly,” said Elena. Now people are looking to science to provide all the answers, and as a result, scientists have begun inventing explanations that are just as absurd and unprovable as the stories from religious traditions,” said Elena.
“Like what?” asked Pax.
“Like the concept of the multiverse. They couldn’t explain the origin of the Big Bang and why the outward expansion of the universe seems to be accelerating, so they came up with the idea of an endlessly expanding and contracting multiverse. For one, it doesn’t answer the origin question, it just kicks the can further down the road. Second, how is the idea of a multiverse any less absurd than the idea of an all-powerful entity that simply willed everything into existence?”
“At least the multiverse theory is based on observed data rather than pure conjecture,” Pax replied.
“Actually, the Ptolemaic theory of the motion of the heavenly bodies was based on the best available data at the time, human eyesight,” said Elena.
“But when better data came along the church rejected it!” said Pax. “In fact, the Catholic church did everything it could to suppress the evidence. They made Galileo recant and threw him in jail for the rest of his life after he declared the Sun and not the Earth was the center of the heavens. The fact is, most religions can’t accommodate new evidence, whether it directly opposes existing doctrine or simply falls wholly outside anything they’d ever imagined—because they’ve calcified themselves by claiming to already have all the answers.”
“True,” said Angelo. “But it’s important to note the organized movements that follow in the wake of great spiritual leaders often don’t correlate that closely in practice with what the founders taught. Whether due to inner corruption or external forces, the traditions often lose their way. It’s why so many wars ostensibly have been fought in the name of Jesus, a man who was excruciatingly clear in both his words and actions that the only morally acceptable way to oppose wrongdoing by others is by loving your neighbor as yourself and through non-violent resistance. Yet for 2,000 years, many leaders of nations and Christian churches have misappropriated Jesus’ name as justification for some of the worst atrocities men have ever committed against one another.”
“Islam is also a peace-loving religion,” said Elena, “but a small percentage of zealots use a handful of passages in the Qu’ran as justification to behead and commit other barbarous acts against those they deem to be nonbelievers.”
Pax looked quizzically at Angelo. “I have to admit, you confuse me. How it is that an engineer of such advanced technology seems to think science is a bad thing?”
“I don’t think technology is bad,” said Angelo. “I just think people have discarded religion and philosophy and instead are now looking to science for answers to questions it fundamentally isn’t designed to address. And I’m sympathetic to the reasons for the existence of organized religions, even if I don’t follow any of them myself.”
“So what do you believe?” asked Pax.
“That a better solution is needed. And that it will have to be primarily inclusive, not divisive or something wholly new. Even if you can find something that makes better sense of the world, you can hardly expect people to suddenly adopt it. One of the hallmarks of the major faith systems is they didn’t just pop out of the ground one day fully formed. They evolved. They integrated new perspectives with previous traditions to win over the adherents of the earlier systems. Hinduism is an amalgamation of several different traditions, some of them quite different in spirit. Christianity is a synthesis of Judaism, Paganism, and the teachings of Jesus. Islam is a derivation of Christianity. You can’t just invent a framework, then say ‘out with the old, in with the new!’ People aren’t just going to abandon their reality filters because some scientist tells them they should.”
“Your point being that to boil a frog you should put it in a pot of cold water and gradually heat it up, rather than throw it directly into boiling water which will cause it to jump right out?”
Angelo chuckled. “Not exactly the analogy I would use, but I think you get my point.
“The sad thing,” Elena said, “is the major faiths have a lot in common. For example, they all believe there is a single animating force behind all of existence.”
“Don’t Hindus believed in many different gods?” asked Pax. “And the concept of God doesn’t really exist in Buddhism or Confucianism.”
“Hindus believe in a supreme unifying force, called the Brahman,” said Elena. “‘One God, many forms,’ is a core Hindu tenet. And Taoism conceives of a similar entity, called the Tao, that is the eternal force that permeates the natural world. And while Confucianism doesn’t find a need for an eternal deity or unifying force, it is similar to other traditions from a practical, behavioral standpoint. It upholds the importance of moral behavior, cultivating compassion, humility, and recognizing that at some basic level, we’re all in the same boat together.
“Call it the Tao, Brahman, Yahweh, God, Allah, or whatever you want,” said Angelo. “Most people believe in an entity that’s responsible for our existence and everything around us,” he continued. “Most people also believe in the concept of enlightenment through abandonment of the self, call it Heaven, Nirvana, Moksha or what have you. I still hold out hope that some day people will come to understand we’re all passengers on the same boat, seeking answers to the same questions.”
“If you think that, you really are a true believer,” Pax replied.
The hint of a smile played at the corners of Angelo’s mouth. “Perhaps.”
Pax realized he was suddenly very tired. He stood up and yawned. “Well, nice talking with you, but it appears whatever narcoleptics you’re plying me with are kicking in again.” He looked at them to see if it spurred a reaction that would reveal his suspicion was correct, but Angelo only looked confused, and Elena irritated.
“We’re not drugging you, Mr. Pax. It’s just your body’s circadian rhythms operating normally for a change,” she said.
“Whatever. In any case, I’m gonna go lie down for a while.” He gave a mock salute and stepped to the doorway. Then behind him, Angelo said, “Mr. Pax?”
Pax leaned heavily against the door frame and said, “Yes?”
“When I was 14, after I’d stopped going to church, my grandmother, a lifelong Catholic who was very poor financially but exceedingly rich spiritually, came to visit me one day. She sat me down so I was at eye level with her, and then, with a solemn look, she said, “Angelo, I want you to remember one thing.”
“’What’s that, Grandma?’ I asked.”
“‘Never assume that man�
��s inhumanity to man is God’s will.”
Chapter 38
Sunday morning, 7:20 AM PT
After he got off the phone with Emma, Cevis said, “View profile for Oreste Pax.” Over the years he’d learned never to assume anything when it came to other people. Even moderately intelligent ones, like the other scientists he worked with, made astonishing errors from time to time. It was why he’d never recruited anyone else to help him with Project Aegis. He simply didn’t trust anyone enough to do the work without making a mistake, because a single mistake could cost him years. Years that, ironically, he didn’t have. Not yet.
However, in this case, Emma had been correct. The status next to Oreste’s avatar was, in fact, a dark gray color with a single white dashed line, indicating his UV was off-line.
Cevis was almost relieved to learn something had happened to Oreste. His feelings had been hurt when Oreste hadn’t followed up with him on Saturday to offer further congratulations and ask when they might begin the Project Aegis treatment. When Oreste hadn’t contacted him, he’d tried not to feel let down. But for the first time in his life, he craved validation for the work he’d done. Unlike the many intermediate accomplishments he’d made over the years, the various diseases he’d cured, he’d finally solved the Big One, and now he wanted to be honored, to be fêted. But since it was premature to let the world know what he’d done, all his hopes in this regard had fallen on Oreste, the one person he’d dared to let in on his secret.
Only now that person was missing, and very soon a throng of slack-jawed troglodytes wearing blue uniforms with bright brass badges would be at his doorstep, asking questions. They would demand to know what he and Oreste had talked about, why they had silenced their UVs, why Cevis had turned off the video and audio recorders in the house, and a hundred other questions.
The questions he could handle. What he couldn’t handle was someone discovering his lab and digging into the experiments he was conducting. Nor could he prevent them from involving Gen6, asking questions of everyone he worked with. It would blow his cover, and if the eyes of the world fell on him and his research, there was a chance someone would figure out what he’d been up to all these years.
But there was one thing they wouldn’t know to ask about Oreste, and he wasn’t about to tell them. Cevis walked over and sat in his oversized leather office chair and said, “Cyrus, please locate Oreste Pax.”
The night Oreste came for dinner, Cevis had inserted a microscopic geotracer inside the piece of salmon he’d placed on Oreste’s fork just moments before the helicopter had arrived. Less than a millimeter in size, Pax hadn’t noticed it while he ate. It had a protective coating to withstand passage through the acids in the stomach and small intestine before it attached itself to the epithelial lining of Pax’s colon.
After they’d gone downstairs, Risi, had sent a program installation request to Pax’s UV on Cevis’ behalf. Disguised as a program to allow her to communicate offline with Gabe, it also silently checked once a minute for a signal from the tracer. When Risi had asked Pax to accept the program install request, and in his drunken state he’d said yes without thinking. Cevis himself had taken an anti-inebriation pill before dinner so he only marginally felt the effects of the alcohol. This allowed him to make sure everything went as planned with Pax while pretending to be drunk.
The tracer was Cevis’ insurance policy for bringing Pax in on Project Aegis. Its sole function was to transmit its geolocation to an encrypted online database only Cevis could access. Cevis had tested the tracers previously with two unknowing Gen6 employees. One he’d placed inside a tapioca ball of a lab manager’s bubble tea, the other in some barbecue he’d shared with a staff automation engineer. He could still track both people several weeks later, even when one had gone to visit family in a remote area of northern Japan.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Pierson, but I haven’t received a tracking signal for Mr. Pax yet,” said Cyrus.
Cevis felt as if his blood had begun to curdle. The tracer was guaranteed to properly situate itself and begin broadcasting within 24 hours.
“There’s been enough time for it to activate, hasn’t there?”
“Yes, sir. Nonetheless, I haven’t received a signal.”
Cevis was quiet for a moment, then suddenly he threw his head back and let out a primal scream. He continued screaming until his throat felt raw, then he stopped. He held onto the edge of his desk, breathing heavily.
This can’t be happening. This simply cannot be happening. Not now.
He leaned back in his chair and put his fingertips together in a long-familiar gesture he used to help focus his thinking. In this case, he considered the scenarios and timelines he was facing. In the worst case scenario, the pressure to report Oreste’s disappearance would overwhelm either Emma or Jean within the next hour or two, and they would notify Omnitech’s executive team. He was confident neither of them would go straight to the police, which bought him a little extra time, because the executive team would take a few hours to get their PR plan in order before contacting them.
So, at a minimum, he probably had three or four hours. Cevis felt it was more likely they would wait until mid-afternoon. If he was lucky, they’d hold out until the following morning before raising the alarm. He was confident the reverse psychology he’d applied on Emma, telling her she was free to contact the police at any time, would paradoxically make her feel less urgency to do so. But once they did, he’d have no time at all. Since he was the last person to have seen Oreste, he’d be the first person the police would want to question.
Regardless, even the best-case scenario left him nowhere near enough time. If Oreste had been kidnapped, he could be anywhere in the world by now. Even 24 hours was barely enough time to get started.
Ignoring the impossibility of the task that faced him, Cevis focused all his attention on the best course of action given the time he had. It was impossible, of course, but he’d already accomplished the impossible. And if he could do it once, was there any reason he couldn’t do it again?
For some reason, his mind went back to something Emma had said, something that had left unanswered questions in his mind. She had accidentally mentioned the name ‘Jean’ as the colleague of Pax’s who was looking for him. Cevis thought for a moment, then realized it had to be Jean Prudhomme, the founder of CortiTrac and lead scientist on Project Simon. Oreste had mentioned his name a couple of times in their meetings. The fact that Oreste was supposed to be touching base with him regularly, even over a weekend, was odd. And when they’d met for dinner, Cevis had gotten the sense Oreste was holding something back in his narrative about Project Simon.
Suddenly, Cevis knew what it meant. The meetings they were supposed to be having were post-op check-ins. Oreste had had the BCI surgery performed on himself.
Cevis fell back in his chair and allowed himself to stew for a moment in frustration. How could Oreste have had no compunction about having elective brain surgery, yet act like Project Aegis was some crazy risk?
He shook his head and tried to figure out what had happened to Oreste. Numerous scenarios flashed through his mind. Perhaps he had gone off somewhere to be by himself for a while and test out the BCI? Or perhaps he’d gotten home but then wandered off somewhere in his drunken state and gotten hurt? Or taken one of his cars somewhere, fallen asleep, only to have some opportunistic persons stumble on him and try to turn the situation into a retirement opportunity for themselves.
But none of the scenarios accounted for the fact that Oreste’s bed had been slept in the night he disappeared. The more Cevis thought about the situation, the more certain he became that whatever had happened to Oreste had been carefully orchestrated.
He pushed out of his chair and walked over to the window, looking down the side of the mountain as the morning sun came streaming in from the East. Brilliant pointillist blues, reds, and golds were slowly appearing everywhere as the light trickled over the wildflowers at the base of the mountain. In another month, the
unrelenting sun would turn everything in the valley to baked clay, but today would be a nice day to just sit on the porch and watch the beauty of the day unfurl.
Instead, he turned and headed for the kitchen. Risi would have breakfast ready, and he needed to eat something before he started his search for Oreste, because once he did he wouldn’t stop until he’d found him. Or until the police showed up and turned his life into baked clay too.
Chapter 39
Pax spent most of the remaining trip in the quiet room. When he went to the main room to eat, he’d initially tried to re-engage Angelo and Elena in conversation. Strangely, though, they hadn’t reciprocated his interest. Angelo had made a comment about Pax needing to rest up so he’d be fully recuperated once they reached the island. It had irritated him, in part because he’d found their earlier discussion the most engaging one he’d had in a long time. But more than that, it had reminded him of what Elena had said about the health impact caused by extended use of a Univiz. It bothered him because he knew she was right.
Regardless, with no other options, he continued to spend most of his time meditating. His body and mind took to the time he spent in the quiet room as if it was an essential nutrient they’d been missing his entire life. After sleeping and eating something, he found himself almost physically drawn back to the chamber. His brain felt relaxed and sharp, which surprised him given he hadn’t taken any of Cevis’ pills since Friday morning. His body felt better than it had in years. No strange muscle aches, and he was filled with a design to be physically active. He started doing some pushups and planks in the room, to release some of his excess energy. But by the evening of the second day on the sub, he was pacing impatiently up and down the hallway.
