The Reality Rebellions

by Paul Anlee

  14

  John Trillian had no trouble finding the lab cluster that housed development of Cybrid CPPUs—Concepta/Persona Processing Units. Millions upon millions of inactive nanotech silicene brains were warehoused there, each carefully catalogued as to the intellectual and psychological makeup of their original human template.

  The cluster was in one of the two science tunnels drilled 180 degrees away from each other underneath the crust of the asteroid, Vesta.

  The two tunnels were some fifty meters in diameter, far narrower than standard habitats or service corridors, and the individual labs branched directly off the central passageways. One could easily walk the wide, bright central hallways to exchange information with nearby neighbors or take a short elevator ride to a loop tunnel, where loop trains could transport you all over Vesta within a few hours.

  The tunnels widened every few kilometers into park-like areas with a wide variety of food services and shaded seating beside tree-lined babbling brooks or lily-laden ponds. For the few million scientists and support staff on the original Vesta project, it had been the nicest facility they had ever worked in. Many thought they’d died and gone to heaven.

  The original plan had been to have an extensive science and technology program in the colonies. At Greg and Kathy’s insistence, people with scientific training had been over-represented in the original colonist population. To their surprise, Reverend LaMontagne had supported their efforts to build an excellent science and technology base on Vesta. In the early years, Vesta scientists were crucial in ensuring the survival of the colonists.

  That was before Alum’s coup.

  The tunnels had been designed to house tens of thousands of research programs. They now sat mostly empty following the forced evacuation of the original colonists by the YTG Church takeover.

  Security forces loyal to the church had swept up the majority of Earth-appointed scientists and returned them to the home planet. Alum’s plans had little room for so many independent-minded critical thinkers. A week after the security sweep, those who had been forced back to Earth were all dead.

  Alum ordered the majority of Vesta’s lab facilities to be shut down and their systems set to sleep mode. He did, however, permit the Cybrids to continue their weekly cleaning, maintenance, and security checks. Being largely unused, the labs remained pristine, and the work they’d once hosted was forgotten.

  The fully outfitted labs retained a vast array of complex instruments and materials necessary to conduct experiments in physics, chemistry, biology, and a host of interdisciplinary fields. On discovering this, John Trillian rushed in as eager as a child in a candy store.

  For the several months after presenting his concepta-virus proposal to Alum, he selected a handful of random semiconductor “brains” from the millions in storage and conducted thorough examinations on them.

  The Cybrid project’s original scientists and engineers had amassed a mind-bending store of beautifully documented data that furthered the field immensely during their last years on Earth.

  They developed hardware to stimulate isolated portions of the conceptual structures imprinted onto the crystalline CPPU brains, and measured the resultant activity. Their understanding of the nature of intelligence and the human psyche, which they shared with the world, expanded exponentially until the release of the Eater on Earth changed everything.

  Trillian spent long days poring over their notes. His own lattice enhancements enabled him to achieve detailed comprehension in a fraction of the time it would take an unenhanced human. What most intrigued him was how these chunks of lattice material managed to simulate the equivalent of the human soul.

  He extended the testing hardware to incorporate simplistic but complete virtual worlds for the disembodied Cybrid brains to inhabit. He had the best results when he connected the Vacationland program to the brownish cubes through their optoelectronic interfaces.

  He would activate the “person”—the CPPU cube—he was examining and have him or her materialize across from him at a table near the beach inside Vacationland. After his subject shook off their initial disorientation, Trillian would engage the person in conversation while he monitored a display of their conceptual map outside the virtual reality.

  In this way, he learned how different ideas related to each other in the simulated mind. He experimented with making subtle but direct alterations to the overall concepta. He’d written a concepta virus once before, shortly before the Eater was liberated from its shackles. His new investigations revealed exactly how crude his first attempts had been.

  His earliest efforts were easily rebuffed by the Cybrid security software, but his persistent efforts eventually cracked the high-level protection.

  Once he conquered their security, he began tinkering with changing the fundamental persona of his test subjects. Replacing memories was hard—the interconnections were too numerous—but it wasn’t hard to alter the way a Cybrid mind interpreted their past experiences, filtering them through a modified concepta.

  Soon he’d engineered a program that could enter the conceptual structure and insinuate an unassailable Faith in God, no matter how evidence-oriented the prior mind had been, and an equally powerful allegiance to Alum as the Lord’s representative in the colonies.

  Every now and then, this intervention would set up a dissonant cycle that would cause the persona to become confused and erratic. Then he’d have to manually prune the concepta, slowly feeling his way through the association networks. He didn’t like intervening directly in this way; he preferred algorithmic approaches over the “artistic” in this, as in all other situations.

  Today was a big day; he was ready to demonstrate his progress to Alum.

  The two men entered the lab Trillian had commandeered. The Cybrid brain was positioned in the scanner, awaiting activation. Two chairs fitted with monitoring equipment faced the equipment. The men sat down and made themselves comfortable.

  “Okay, John. Let’s see what you’ve been working on,” Alum said.

  He closed his eyes to better allow his multi-tasking lattice to connect with both the concepta display and the simulated reality in which the Cybrid brain was already immersed.

  He immediately found himself at a beachside table in Vacationland. Trillian sat to his left, and a fortyish woman sat to his right. She was sipping on a margarita; a slice of lime rested on top of the icy concoction. Her mood brightened at the appearance of the two men.

  “There you are! I’ve been sitting here for almost an hour waiting for you two,” she slurred.

  Trillian gave his boss an apologetic shrug. Internally, he sent a virtual sensory system shock her way that made her sit bolt upright. He reached directly into her concepta and removed the simulated effect of the alcohol.

  The woman’s overly gregarious smile disappeared; she rearranged her clothing and smoothed out invisible wrinkles with her hands.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Trillian,” she said. “I guess I got a little ahead of myself on the margaritas. She forced a little smile to show she was okay. “Who would’ve thought simulated drinks could carry such a kick?”

  “Never mind that. Ms. Sievert, is it?” Alum extended his hand across the table. “I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  The woman accepted the hand reflexively. “Call me Rebecca. Please. I apologize for the informal welcome, sir.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself over it. And you can dispense with that ‘sir’ business, if you like. People just call me Alum. I’m happy to be here. Then again, I guess ‘here’ really isn’t anywhere, is it?”

  “That’s one way to look at it—it is, and it isn’t. Are you all in my mind or am I in yours?” she joked.

  Alum gazed out across the water. “I believe, we are all guests of a greater power at the moment.”

  “So just like always, then. Well, thank you, Alum. And what about you?” Rebecca angled her head expectantly toward Trillian.

  “John,” he said. “Seeing as how we’re
all friends here.” He didn’t really mean it, but Alum had turned on the charm so he followed along.

  Alum returned his attention from the view to the table, “I don’t know about you two but I could drink in this Vacationland setting all day. Tell me, Rebecca, how do you like it here in simulated reality?”

  Sievert held up her drink in a mock toast. “It has a lot going for it, I’ll say that. All pleasure and no pain has its draws. I haven’t felt this good in years. Mr. Tri…John…may have told you that I suffered from real bad fibromyalgia back on Earth. The pain never let up. On the other hand, nobody in the real world ever jolted me out of a nice buzz like that before, either.” She squinted and shot a look at Trillian that let him know she was still a little peeved.

  Trillian cleared his throat. “Yes, well, we need you alert; we have business to discuss.”

  “I hope that won’t become standard treatment,” she replied.

  Alum intervened before disagreement could build. “I assure you we view the sanctity of the Cybrid mind as equal to that of the human.”

  Trillian’s eyes widened a little at that bold lie. Alum stared him down, daring any response but confirmation.

  “That’s right,” Trillian said. “That was a one-time thing. It’ll never happen again. My turn to apologize. Sorry about that, Rebecca.”

  Rebecca accepted Trillian’s clumsy, half-hearted apology. “Don’t worry about it. The drinks kind of crept up on me. And all before my big test.”

  “Ah, yes. So John’s told you about what we’d like to try today?”

  “He has. At least, a little. It sounds like fun.”

  “Well, it’ll be a different experience for you, in any case,” Trillian said. “As we discussed, we’ve developed a new kind of Cybrid body, one with security capabilities.”

  “And you want me to try it out.”

  Trillian leaned forward. “Correct. We’ll disconnect you from this simulation and move your processor—“

  “My brain, you mean.”

  “Yes. We’ll move your brain into the new Securitor body. It’s basically a modified Cybrid. Then we’ll put you through some simple manoeuvring tests and end with the weapons tests.”

  “See? That does sound like fun.”

  Alum held up a cautionary finger. “Ms. Sievert. You were selected for this test based on your security experience on Earth. I do hope you take it seriously.”

  A chagrined Rebecca answered, “That was all private stuff. I never saw military duty.”

  “But you also have a pilot’s licence and you can operate heavy machinery.”

  She shrugged. “What can I say? I like to be useful. I guess my construction experience got me—well at least this part of me—saved and assigned up here.”

  “Yes, we believe that your unique collection of skills makes you an ideal candidate for this test,” Trillian confirmed. “There are a lot of things about this program I think you’re going to like. For one, it won’t feel so much like operating a piece of equipment as being reborn inside one.”

  “I’ve been told the Cybrid bodies fit like a glove.”

  “More like a whole new body,” Trillian answered. “But after a few minutes of practice, most minds adapt to the differences easily. We’ll upload the required knowledge into your mind before we transfer you. The knowledge will include full access to all the weaponry.”

  He smiled reassuringly. “Alum and I will meet you in the testing tunnel. We’ll be wearing pressure suits and a jetpack so we can observe you better.”

  “Wait. We’ll be in vacuum?”

  “The testing tunnel is still in the early stages of construction and hasn’t been pressurized yet. It’ll be ideal for testing your flight speed and agility. The Cybrid Securitor body is hardy and completely space capable.”

  “Cool.”

  Alum decided the conversation had gone as far as it could go without devolving into unnecessary technical details. “Rebecca may I change the topic for a while?”

  “You’re prepping me fly the best rocket ship ever, you can talk about anything you like.”

  “Do you consider yourself a religious person, Ms. Sievert?”

  “Not particularly. I guess I believe in God and all. I just never found asking Him to do something for me to be particularly useful. I’m a pragmatic person that way. If it don’t work, it ain’t worth much.”

  “And do you know who I am?”

  “Sure. You’re Alum, like you told me a minute ago.”

  “Yes, but do you know my position here?”

  The right side of Rebecca’s face scrunched up as she thought about what she knew. “I guess you’re like the President of the asteroids?”

  “Ha!” Alum inadvertently snorted as he laughed. “Yes, well, I can see how one might think that. Before I brought my people here to the colonies, I was simply the leader of our humble Church. The Head Reverend, you could say. I now serve as Administrator of the people of Vesta and the asteroid colonies. The spiritual health of my congregation, however, remains my primary concern and responsibility.”

  “I didn’t mean any disrespect or anything, Reverend. Back on Earth, I went to church twice a month. Unless I was working that day...or late the night before.”

  “Do you take your responsibilities seriously?”

  “Yes, absolutely. The client pays for something or someone to be protected, that’s what they get.”

  “Have you ever been called on to make the extreme sacrifice?”

  “Do you mean, like, jumping in front of a bullet of something?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well that kind of work takes a special sort. Not sure if I’d be up for it. I mostly did concerts and exhibits. Crowd control, you know. Sure, every now and then someone would get a little rowdy and need to be brought back in line. But, it was never real dangerous, not in the way you’re talking about. Some of the corporate protection gigs were touchy but I’ve only ever had to pull my gun maybe a dozen times in twenty years, and I’ve only discharged it twice.”

  Rebecca hesitated before asking her next question. “Hey, this job isn’t all that dangerous, is it?”

  Alum told her what Trillian had suggested would make a great test. “When Earth was destroyed, some…things may have been released.”

  “Things?”

  “Hell has always been described as being underneath the Earth’s crust, hasn’t it?”

  “I’m not sure I believe in a literal interpretation of Hell. You know, with a devil and demons, and all that.”

  “Even I was skeptical at first,” Alum confessed. “I’m not skeptical anymore. We have seen some strange and frightening things of late. Things that have reinforced our faith in the truth of God’s Word as recorded in the Bible.”

  “Okay…but I should be able to handle it, right? I mean, if this Securitor body is tough enough to go into space, it can take a bullet or worse, can’t it?”

  “Don’t you worry. It’s tough, alright, tough as a tank. Even a direct missile hit wouldn’t damage your CPPU. To be frank, I’m more concerned about the human instinct, the automatic response to run from conflict.”

  “I’m not exactly human anymore, am I?”

  “Granted. But even inside this semiconductor block, your new brain simulates being human remarkably well.”

  “Wait. Are you afraid I’m gonna turn tail and run if the going gets tough?”

  “The question is, will you be afraid?”

  Rebecca pushed her chair back, stood up, and placed her hands on her hips.

  “Sure, I’d be afraid, who wouldn’t? But I’m no coward. No, sir,” the virtual woman declared, and punctuated the last syllable with her index finger. “I won’t be stupid, but I will do my best to protect my client.”

  “Please sit down, Rebecca,” Alum asked. “I was merely curious about your experience in more active scenarios.”

  He looked at Trillian. “I’m sure she’ll do fine,”.

  Trillian smiled. “As I said.
” He clapped his hands together. “So, shall we begin?”

  Rebecca remained standing. “I’m ready. What do I need to do?”

  “Nothing,” Trillian replied. “In a few seconds, you’ll go back to sleep. We’ll move your brain, and you’ll wake up in a new Securitor body; it’s more like a spherical drone, really. We’ll give you a few minutes to get used to the feel of it and then we’ll begin the tests.”

  “Okay, let’s get started,” she announced, and winked out of existence.

  Trillian snapped his fingers and a floating display of Rebecca’s conceptual network appeared over the table. He pointed out a few specific areas to Alum. “You can see her ambivalence about her religious beliefs here.”

  “Ah, yes. Church attendance is a social obligation. Extremely simplistic view of God and especially of Yeshua.”

  “Compounded with her general distrust of authority, you can see why I selected her.”

  “Yet, she holds service to others in high esteem, along with a vague constellation of other roughly Christian morals.”

  “For sure. Rebecca is basically what we’d call a ‘good’ person. She’s essentially adopted the morals of the Bible without any particular reverence for their origin or for the institutions which maintain their relevance in modern society.”

  “So, how will you alter her concepta?”

  “Let me show you.” A simple diagram opened beside the complete concepta. “I’ll replace her interpretation of her Church attendance with this structure. It gives her guilty feelings over having to work on Sundays, or too late on Saturdays.”

  “And that will do it?”

  “No, not even close. I’m going to add links throughout her general moral structures, highlighting connections to Scripture. She will continue to behave much the same as in the past, but the morals will be rooted in divine inspiration.”

  “As they should be.”

  “Yes, one might consider this nothing more than repairing a rather poor education in Christian basics. Of course, I’ll give these links fairly heavy weighting in her ethical reasoning. From now on, they’ll provide the strongest influence in her decision making.”