Mad-Sci-Soc

by Arrand Pritchard

  “But it doesn't work with metal? What happens to people with robotic limbs or implants?”

  “Prosthetics?”

  “Yes. Not that I have any implants or anything,” Terri said red-faced.

  “We can only parse trace elements, like iron in your blood but not sheets of it. Not sheets of metal or any foreign object inside the body.”

  “Parse?”

  “Scan. Same thing. We can't transfer robotic arms, legs, embedded chips, artificial aids of any type. Including nano-bots. Or er... any other type of implants. At least not at the moment.”

  “So is this the flaw you were talking about?” mused Terri.

  “You could say that. Its commercial value is very limited. It's useless for the majority of the population, all the virtualistas with their current fixation for skeleton hardening, muscle replacement, technology inserts... But for someone with no upgrades...” Max raised his eyebrows towards Terri.

  Terri twisted her mouth into a type of a smile, “So you scan a body, then what?”

  “Well the clever part of the scheme, is the processing of this information. For processing and managing such a huge dataset, you need, I bet you've already guessed, a Quantum supercomputer. And then to transfer the information securely over vast distances, with no data loss and no interception, you need Quantum communications! Do you see? All the technology to do this has been around for decades.”

  “So how is the new, er... body created?”

  “The original product in my company’s portfolio is artificial skin. That’s the reason why I bought Quantact. Imagine a giant 3D printer but for flesh and bone! It all takes place in a vat of water, with a laser stylus, that zaps trace minerals into the right position and atomic spin.”

  “So you've done this?”

  “We demonstrated the transfer using uniquely marked laboratory mice to the Science Faculty last month. We had to do it multiple times in order to show that it was not just a magic trick.”

  “And you've gone through it too?”

  “I've said too much. It is one of those completely unethical, not verifiable, unsafe, possibly criminal, legal no-man's-land, with probable long-term health-damage, experiment. I really don't want to be a position to confirm or deny whether I've been through the machine.”

  ***

  Thursday, January 24, 2123

  “So Max was a super hero too?” I asked.

  “I cannot reveal a super hero's identity,” said Conrad firmly.

  “But you already have!”

  “Oh,” said Conrad. “Right. Well, Max never used his super hero persona, and he's resigned, so I guess it's ok to tell you. He called himself Majestro but his super powers were never really reliable, so he never went on a live operation. He was always fantastic at working out the plans though; a mastermind.”

  “What was his super power?”

  “Mind reading. Mind reading and invincibility.”

  ***

  Saturday, October 5, 2117

  After Max had explained the theory of the matter transporter using Quantum Entanglement, Terri wanted to know whether any human had used it.

  “You have, haven't you?” challenged Terri.

  Max winked. “Let me show you the mice.”

  In 2117, Max had his laboratory in the SHUMSS offices downtown. It looked like the archetypal Mad Scientist laboratory, with lasers, vats of chemicals,  metal contraptions, shelves, cupboards and towards the rear, easily missed because it was so huge and black, a large circular something. Max and Terri walked down a short corridor into into the lab to view the matter transportation experiments. Max took a cage down from a shelf. In the cage were two mice with mottled black and white markings.

  “The markings on the mice fur are unique. But we had to demonstrate to the faculty that we didn't just clone the mice, and so with a green dye we put random spots on their backs. We then transferred them, via the super computer, from that chamber,” Max pointed to a beach-ball sized metal sphere, “To that vat.” He pointed to tank full of liquid surrounded by menacing looking guns which were, in fact, special lasers. “The first few times, we had a problem with the mice drowning during the validation phase. So we switched things around on the materialisation and learned to be ready to quickly scoop them out.”

  “Scoop out the mice?”

  “With a net. Before they drowned. That worked and we had our mice transferred. But, they asked, were they the same mice with the same memories? We taught the original mice how to traverse a maze and curious to see if the new mice have the same skill?”

  “So this is to prove more than matter-copy. Would the mind also transfer?”

  “Precisely. We needed to copy brain waves; the mind. Now that was tricky. Mind transfer it seemed, needed an intermediate step, it needs to be stored in a holding area. That was my idea, my value-add. As I said, the rest of the technology had been available for a while.”

  “You have mind transfer?”

  “A mouse’s mind.”

  “And you could tell because of the maze?”

  “The matter-materialised mice rushed around the maze er... just as good as the original.” Max did not sound confident about saying “just as good”, Terri noticed.

  “Just as good?” asked Terri.

  “Really good. The new mice were, if anything, a little bit quicker around the maze. It must have been the de-tox,” explained Max hesitantly.

  Terri smiled and looked around wanting to collect her thoughts. She was impressed but Max was holding something back, she could tell. She took a guess. “And the soul?”

  Max laughed. “We do in fact have the perfect experiment to test that theory. Plato and Descartes have waited a long time for proof of a soul.”

  “And you've done that?!” said Terri wide-eyed.

  “Shall we just stick with the mind and memories for the time being.”

  “Show me,” said Terri teasingly. She had enough of the lecture.

  “Show you the transporter working?” asked Max.

  “Yes! Or does it take too long to set up?”

  Max, with a hint of smile, took up the challenge. He picked one of the mice out the cage and dropped it in a spherical chamber. He moved over to the vat and flicked on some switches. He poured a bottle of chemicals into the vat and the liquid became cloudy.

  “Trace elements,” he explained.

  He sat on a chair next to a holoscreen and called up a program from the supercomputer. He pressed a holo-button. Nothing happened.

  “Oh wait, I forgot to engage the chamber.” He pushed his chair, which was on rollers, across the room to the black sphere and pressed a switch on a cord. He propelled himself back and pressed the holo-button again.

  There was a slight whine from the black chamber and simultaneously a gentle bubbling began in the vat across the room. Inside the chamber, a mouse skeleton formed in 5 seconds, then muscle, veins, organs, skin, fur, ears, claws, eyes.

  “This is the tricky bit,” said Max excitedly. “We now introduce the brain activity via the Holding Matrix. The timing has to be absolutely precise to the transfer point otherwise the brain chemistry does not synchronise.”

  Max clicked multiple buttons on the holo-screen to complete the miracle. Then the previously limp mouse started thrashing around in the water. Max scooped the mouse out with a net. He handed the mouse to Terri, who held the damp mouse at arms length. Max scooted back to the black chamber to unplug it. Opening the chamber door, he drained a transparent liquid into the sink; all that remained of the original creature.

  “Pure water,” explained Max. “This is an experimental system and the laser destroys the non-liquid molecules. All other matter was identified, communicated to the receiver unit and un-entangled in the water.”

  Max collected the mouse from Terri and returned it to the cage.

  “Whoa,” said Terri, hands clasping her face. She went quiet.

  “Is that not Mad Science? This is the epitome of the work we've been doing at M
ad-Sci-Soc,” announced Max proudly.

  Terri was silent for a few more seconds then found a chair, needing to sit down.

  “I can't help thinking, though, that all this wizardry… you plan on using it on me. As a super-power? I'm not sure about this. Any of it. And especially not this matter transfer machine. Is the mind transferred. Would that still be me? And there's something about being reduced to a puddle… that doesn't seem appealing to me.”

  “I know...”

  But Max’s attempt at interruption did not work. Terri was on a roll and continued. “The machine is big and bulky. Not something you are going to take to a crime scene and use in a battle.”

  “You're very clever, Terri. You will be such a worthy super hero,” said Max, succeeding this time in interrupting her. Trying not to sound condescending, Max continued. “What we're proposing, is something quite different, maybe even more unethical... which is why it would be such a fantastic super-power. In my latest Entangle-Scanner, you won't have to be reduced to a puddle.”

  “Oh?” said Terri amused.

  “We don't have to be destroyed at all thus removing the most immediate legal and moral issues. No, I have a completely different approach now and something that carries no risk to your health or current well-being,” said Max, with a smile.

  “Oh?” said Terri puzzled.

  “We copy you!”

  ***

  Thursday, January 24, 2123.

  “And what were Terri's super powers?” I asked.

  “Ah. You know? That she was a member of the SHUMSS?” asked Conrad, concerned.

  “We tell each other everything,” I lied.

  “So you must already know her super powers,” said Conrad.

  “I don't think the topic has ever come up,” I said carefully.

  “Her powers were thunderbolts and invincibility. Although, they never worked reliably,” said Conrad, averting his eyes.

  “Ah-hah. So she had to drop out?” I asked with more glee than required.

  “Yes, she, er...  retired after her first mission,” said Conrad sadly.

  “But she had a go. Good for her!” I said, trying to sound more sympathetic. “Not enough young people today get into heroism.”

  “Indeed. The mission was never broadcast to the public so no-one knows about her or her alter-ego. It's a shame really. You should have seen her in her costume. She looked fabulous.”

  ***

  Saturday, October 5, 2117

  “So, I'm not going to be dematerialised? You're just going to take a scan?” said Terri on the steps of a large black sphere with a seven-sided Quantact logo on the side, located at the back in Max's laboratory.

  “Of your atomic structure. Just a copy of your atomic matrix,” assured Max.

  “I won't be hurt or end up as a puddle?” asked Terri, uncertainly.

  “Oh, no. There is no risk to you at all. It will just scan every atom in your body but leave you completely intact, I promise,” said Max beaming from ear to ear, light reflecting off his glasses.

  “And then what?” asked Terri, hesitantly.

  “This is just for analysis. As I said my objective is that if you become injured on a mission, we can rebuild, recreate, just the part that was injured. Real organic replacement, aligned at the atomic level, not just a mechanical prosthetic.”

  “That sounds painful. Suppose I lost half my head?”

  “We have instant morphine injections, so you will not feel any pain. And even if you lose half your head we can rebuild. I appreciate that might slow you down a bit but that really is a worst-case-scenario. You won’t even have a scar or a bruise.”

  “I don't know about this, Max. I am more scared of pain than I am of dying.”

  “You are no different from anyone else. As I said this is only a test if it doesn't work then we won't use the technology. This is like a safety back-up. It is best we take a copy now in case you get hurt during training.”

  “Hmm. And this won't hurt?”

  “It does sting a bit.”

  “Anything else? Radiation damage?”

  “It's no worse than an X-Ray.”

  “I don't like X-Rays.”

  “It's not as bad as an X-Ray. Just take an extra Rad-free tablet if you are worried. It's just a few steps and a minute's scan. Remember to close the door behind you.”

  Terri stepped up into the chamber, pulled a face and started to close the door.

  “Oh, one more thing,” said Max.

  “What?” said Terri irritably.

  “Remember it's organics only. There's a basket for your clothes by the door.”

  “I have to strip off?”

  “Yes. Pants as well... and any jewellery. Especially anything metal. And any electronics too. I'll pass them back to you, of course, in a flash. You won't even have time to feel the cold. Just think of it as another airport security check.”

  Terri slammed the door. A few minutes later her clothes fell out of a trap door towards the bottom of the sphere.

  ***

  Thursday, January 24, 2123.

  I wanted to ask Conrad more about Terri's super hero career but there was a loud insistent purring noise coming from the computer.

  “We have a CAT alert,” stated Conrad.

  “Cat alert?”

  “Crime Activity Trigger,” said Conrad, accessing a holo-screen.

  “It looks like you're going into action early.”

  “What happened to the training?” I asked dismayed.

  “I'll talk you through it. This is on-the-job training, the best kind. Don't worry you'll have Improbileon as the lead hero. You'll just be there to observe. I've just activated her alarm. She'll be jet-packing her way to the CAT-LOC in five minutes. You need to kit up.”

  “Cat lock?”

  “CAT Location. Come on. You need to get going!”

  “What's going on?”

  “It's a robbery about-to-be-in-progress. The supercomputer has predicted it. And there's a fridge involved!” said Conrad springing from his seat.

  “About-to-be-in-progress?”

  “Do you know how long it takes to get kitted up? How else is a superhero supposed to be in costume and in position unless they know in advance where the crime is about to be committed. That's one of your super-powers, by the way. Precognition.”

  “Wow. I'm good!” I said, sarcastically.

  Conrad hurried me along, offering me the PK costume.

  “How do you put this thing on?” I asked, lifting the helmet.

  “Let me. I'll open it up. You strip off to your underpants,” said Conrad taking the helmet from me.

  I started stripping off but a few questions started to occur to me. “Didn't you say that Improbileon hasn't been on a mission?”

  “She's well trained. Don't worry about her.”

  “How am I going to get there?”

  “I'll drive.” Conrad clipped the helmet on me.

  “Will this be broadcasted?” I asked through the voice disguiser in the helmet.

  “The camera drones have submitted their licence and a squadron is already racing to the scene. So, yes, it'll be mainstream broadcast. Providing they are not showing Downton Abbey 2000, they may make it a live feed.”

  Conrad fitted the chest-plate on me.

  While I wrestled with the tight leggings, I asked, “Don't I need a licence? You said that...”

  “We have your acceptance on voice record. We can send you the legal contract by email. Do you want to check it now?”

  But I was distracted, “Whoa. An insanely great heads up display in this thing. You're going to have to talk me through it.”

  “Do you want to see your email?”

  “What's all this highlighting stuff?” I asked.

  “You haven't used augmented reality before?”

  “Too many pop-up adverts. I switch it off.”

  “This is the executive version. No adverts. Anything with a green tinge is benign. Orange is a trip hazard.
Anything red is really dangerous.”

  “Psychedelic! And yellow?”

  “Not processed yet.”

  “You have a yellow tinge around you?”

  “I'm not in the system. Off the radar, so-to-speak.” said Conrad helping me put on my boots. “I'll tell you about it later. Here's your utility belt. Buckle up in the lift, we're off to the Soc-Cave!”

  Conrad sprang to a lift door and pressed a button. The doors immediately opened. I was expecting to see poles or a zipline rather than the interior of an ordinary looking lift.

  We entered. Conrad pressed a button for a basement floor.

  Commenting on music being piped into the lift, I exclaimed, “Now you have musak!?”

  “I prefer to think of it as our theme music.”

  ***

  Thursday, January 24, 2123

  Conrad's Kittoffery Kart whistled out of the underground car park and straight onto the high-speed priority lanes in the traffic grid.

  “Is this legal?” I asked, gripping onto the inside of the vehicle.

  “We're licensed super heroes, so yes,” replied Conrad. “When we reach CAT-LOC, just tell your headset that you want camouflage. Get away from the car and seek Improbileon with the Rendezvous app. Anything you say will be masked, only she and me will hear you, until you say Excelsior. Then it's show time. The camera drones will pick you up instantly, so look cool and act fast following Improbileon's lead. And for jobs sake no showboating! The supercomputer will determine the good guys and bad guys. Stop the bad guys, help the good guys. Go back into invisibility once the job is done. I'll be following you everywhere by drone-vision.”

  “But surely morality is merely subjective and largely down to cultural context”

  “Hmm. I'll make it simple, the bad guys will be the ones trying to kill you!”

  “Yeah. Ok. So how do I stop the bad guys again?”

  “Left arm, making a fist will fire a knock-out dart; right arm fist, fires the hypno-drug. There's ten darts in each glove. In either case the utility belt has handcuff straps, secure the bad guys with the cuffs and leave the rest for the police. You'll need to try the dart gun out...”

  I started inspecting the gloved weapon and Conrad slapped my arm down.

  “Not in the car!” he said sternly.