“Yeah, Thou shalt not kill.”
Quietly David said, “Do you know the penalty for murder?”
“Well, the courts,”
“Not last week’s courts, the new law. The penalty for murder is to be smoked. I, I was murdered. I was shot by your friend Fred.” David was feeling a bit giddy, “Your fiendish friend Fred fried me. I died. Chee’our’i smoked Fred. Fred is dead.”
John look bewildered then he launched himself at the barrier, “I should have killed you, you bastard.”
David quietly and wistfully said, “Maybe you should have, you stupid, ignorant fool, it would have made my life a lot simpler. It would have made your life a lot simpler too. Hydrogen atoms, oxygen atoms, carbon.” David shook his head and waited for his words to register. David noticed the gunman’s facial expression change as he finally understood. John sat back down. “Actually I came to tell you how this is going to all play out.”
“You ain’t no lawyer.”
“No, but I don’t need to have a graduate degree in meteorology to know which way the wind is blowing. You are going to be held without bail, while the rest of the world undergoes its changes. You, like all other prisoners will be given your choice of beer, wine or hard liquor. You and your family, oh you trained them so well. Yes, your family will drink your blood of Christ. In three weeks, when your case comes before the judge, both my wife and I will tell the judge that she is now completely healed, with only a few days lost time. When you measure your life in hundreds of thousands of years, a few days means nothing. The judge will be hesitant, until Chee’our’i appears. The Supreme Being will personally guarantee that you will never so much as slap another human.”
“Bullshit, I’ll never promise that to your false god.”
“You won’t need to promise anything. Either you will ATTEMPT to injure another and be smoked, or you will find that you restrain yourself and live another day. Whether you think of Chee’our’i as a god or anything else doesn’t matter. However, you will know that it is watching you. Constantly.
“In any case, the court will be more than happy to be free of another prisoner. With all the changes in the new world, the judge will be happy to clear the jail, especially on the personal word of the Almighty. Meanwhile your family will be living as normal people among supermen. Your oldest son Doug, who used to be a jock, will now be among the weakest children in the seventh grade. All his old friends will first pity then avoid him. All except for his best friend, Mike. On the eve of the third Rapture, Mike will help Doug get the court’s permission to stay at their place and Doug will transform. Oh don’t worry, your other two sons will follow their parents and choose death. A few months later, your wife will permanently leave you, when she fully realizes that you killed her children and her. Your children, who you sentence to death, will never see you again. However, after your first heart attack, Doug will be your sole comfort until your death. I’ve been told not to tell you the date.” David felt himself smile, a full smile.
“This is all bullshit. You don’t know crap.”
“You still don’t get it. You just don’t get it. While I’m not one of the Avatars, and may never be, I talk to them daily. Both of them. I’ve talked many time to Chee’our’i.”
“This is still all crap. When the world hears my side of the story, I’m going to be held up as a paragon of virtue and your sorry excuse of a failed religion will never last. When I get out I’ll tell what really happened.”
David laughed. “You still have no idea. None at all. The Avatars are watching right now. Everything is being recorded. Everything. How will you have a story when it’s all recorded already.”
“The world will know I was right.”
“You deluded fool. You’re going to tell people who live that they died? The sick are not cured, the infirm not free of ails? The old did not become young?”
“When they hear my story …”
“They will realize that you didn’t get it. Stories will be told, and told and told. In the next thousand years, there will be two thousand three hundred and forty five stories about this meeting. In all but three, you are the fool. I was told that the main story is why I’m here. In three quarters of these stories, it will be because I’m here to give you salvation.”
John Gary again stood. His face red, “YOU, YOU offer ME salvation?”
“Yes. The future that I described is what will-has happened. That was before I told you. By telling you, you have the option to change things. On the second and third Rapture, you can save your life. You can save your wife’s life, and your two son’s lives.” David paused, “Or not. Chee’our’i and its Avatars are big believers in free will. You can choose to live or choose to kill them. Your choice.”
“You’re so full of bullshit. You’re only saying this to gloat.”
“That was the conclusion of the other quarter of stories which will be told about this meeting. It will be further reinforced in the current history – a company of Haines’ will be the only one who would hire you. You will be the living John Wilkes Booth, the man who almost killed Charlie Haines. Fortunately, after the court appearance, that will be the last time we will ever meet. On that I can promise you.”
“You, you’re a nothing. I’m going to be proven right. People will remember me, not you.”
David thought ‘I’m going to be elected to be the Overlord of Earth many times. Should I tell Mr. Gary, nah.’
“Perhaps, you’re right. Perhaps you’re wrong.” David stood and put his hand on the unused attaché case.
The red-faced John Gary stammered, “Y-You, you, you’re a monster. You’re not even human.”
David felt his own face turn red. He fought to control his breath. “A monster? A monster? For ushering in the greatest age of man? To ease in the transition to tomorrow? Even the people who choose death will be succored in their choice by me. Your kinsmen will reject you and realize that this will be the future they didn’t know they could wish for. Me, a monster? Let me tell you about what it means to be human. I actually know. The difference between us and an animal, is not tools. Chimps use tools. It isn’t language, parrots like Alex understand English. The difference is infinity. If I asked you to think of your wife Barbara, you could eventually think of a hundred things. Most a handful at a time. Psychologists have often spoken of memory as seven plus or minus two. That’s the most you can think of. If you were to sit here a long time, you might be able to glimpse at the infinitude of her, what she looks like from the front, the rear, her smell, the feel of her newly washed hair, what she looked like on your first date, the first night you slept with her. However, typically it’s seven plus or minus two. Do you know how many aspects of her Chee’our’i can envision? Over thirty eight trillion. Barbara’s entire past, from every angle and sensorium, most senses you could never comprehend. Also her entire future. Chee’our’i's first Avatar is currently up to three hundredths of a percent of Chee’our’i trillions. When she gets to a full percent of Chee’our’i, she’ll pass one of the many tests to be considered a Sentient member of the Galaxy. Me, I’m four orders of magnitude poorer than her. You. You’re seven plus or minus two, with rare glimpses of the Infinitude of Man, as Emerson called it. You do the math, when you get a calculator. Seven verses thirty eight trillion. In the future, most people, who had been called human, will spend part of every day stretching their minds to grasp the Infinitude of Man. The nineteenth century transcendentalists will be revered for their insights. “However, I have to go home to be with my wife. I’m going into the Rapture sleep tomorrow.”
John Gary took a step back and barked a laugh. “I got you, you lying bastard. The so-called Rapture doesn’t happen for three more days. Ha. I knew you were a lying, gloating bastard.”
David was about to say more when he just shook his head. “You still have no idea.” David was still shaking his head as he grabbed the doorknob.
John Gary started shouting, “Guards, this man’s a fraud, a liar. Guards
arrest him. He’s no lawyer.”
David made sure that all exits were unlocked as he slowly walked out. Tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of his life.
Year 4412.2 Epilogue
Phyllis stepped out of her enclave naked. She imagined that she could feel the solar winds; her pick-ups registered it, even if she couldn’t. Their enclave was too far from the sun. She ran a subroutine letting her feel the feeble electron particles hitting her, and let her feel the solar wind blow her hair. She hadn’t been on Earth to feel the real wind in decades. She didn’t miss it. It was still too crowded and smelly. True, the population was still declining and was now two billion. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t block the people or the smell out. No, she would always know that the Earth was too crowded. It was a psychological thing. As she was bathed in the sunlight, one part of her was beginning to feel the warmth, 332 degrees Fahrenheit, while the side away from the sun was -247 degrees. Funny, after all these years, she still thought in terms of Fahrenheit, instead of the Kelvin. ‘I’m just an old fuddy-duddy, I guess’, she thought.
She looked around and could see nothing outside of the micro artificial planet. Not even her sensor net could see her nearest ‘human’ neighbor. Even Mars, the closest planet, was below the horizon. She stood outside for a few minutes and walked back. She stepped through the force portal that marked the boundary between cold space and her air filled, human-warm home. David* was seated by a sofa near a roaring fire. Phyllis intellectually knew the fire was a simulation, but she always enjoyed it nevertheless, the smell, the look, the crackling. It was a hickory fire today. She went to the couch and snuggled up next to him. The warmth of the fire, and his body, felt good against the cold from space.
“You speak to yourself this morning?” asked Phyllis after a few minutes. Sentients-in-training were allowed a single duplicate persona, her David*. The original David was studying somewhere. The actual location wasn’t important enough to even query online.
He looked up at her and smiled. “Yes, David’s still having tremendous problems with folding the 17th dimension onto the 6th. I don’t know if he will ever get it. I suggested he take the next week off to relax, and just listen to the next part of that ode written by those waterpeople he keeps talking about, but he refused. Dee is helping him, but even she’s getting frustrated at this point. He’s also in month three of his epic poem about Dogs. It’s about Hilda, you remember my first dog. He’s wondering if he’s ever going to pass the third Sentient test.”
Phyllis said, “Well, you know my opinion. It’s all psychological. David’s still harboring bad feeling about taking so long to achieve Sentience, that he’s not allowing himself to be just one of the crowd. It was a blow that he’ll never again be number one. I think that he just needs to mellow.”
David* smiled and ran his hand through Phyllis’ hair. He grabbed a strand and twirled it around his finger. He made a ringlet, unraveled it and he started again. “I know”, Phyllis could hear the smile, “I’m just a pain in the ass. I’m sooo glad I’m beyond that bullshit myself. I keep telling David that we should merge, and let me upload my thoughts back into myself, but he’s resisting. He claims it’s more than a need to be first.”
David* sighed then continued, “Well, there is something to his claim that he wasn’t cyborg enough. David says he can’t pass the test because when he was born Martin and Elizabeth only covered his brain with ten to the ninth power of nanotubes, and the nanotube count weren’t as large as any of the later models. Too much of my and his brains are jello. I suggested he get Josh to have added more. He refused. Josh and Dad promised to speak to him. Do you think you should speak to him again?”
“I tried seven times already, maybe after Josh and Dad tries. Oh yeah, where is Josh prime now-a-days?”
“Josh is physically visiting a world Chee’our’i once used as a home. It’s near the hub. Dee was saying that it reminded her of old Earth’s Jurassic Period. They’re also doing Sentient duty, watching over humanity for the next month. God, they hate that – all those court cases. They were also asked to help evolve a species that’s living on a black dwarf star. Due to the gravity, their ultra fast personal time, and the alien’s two-dimensional prospective he said they’re going to be challenged. They’re going to be mentored by some other Sapients.”
“Why would they want to do all that?”
“Dee said something about how it would enhance Human’s position in Sentience. I think it’s an ego thing. Josh said it wouldn’t help to increase the number of new Human Sentients for the next millennia. So, I don’t understand it. But Dee does.”
David* continued, “Oh yes, a near Sentient, a guy name Brock-L3, is working with Martin to try to get regular Mod 1s to be truly enhanced. Brock-L3 thinks he can get them to Sentient level, eventually, like in a million years. Martin thinks that Brock-L3 is collaborating with him, only for his name.”
Phyllis looked up at David*, stretched and snuggled closer to him and said, “There’s nothing wrong with getting a grant by going to number 1. It’s done all the time. You know how much Marty’s grown over the years. And speaking about Chee’our’i, did you hear that Chee’our’i actually complimented Martin and Corey’s treatise on how the sensory mechanisms of a new species dictates their personality dimensions.”
Phyllis paused a second then said, “Oh, I just wanted to remind you, …”
David* put a finger over Phyllis’ lips and said using her voice (100% accuracy), “that we’re meeting Mal and Brenda tonight at New Ryan City at their restaurant. Oh, yeah, don’t forget to wear a disguise. Dinner at 7 GMT.” David* paused, then continued in Phyllis’ voice, “Oh stop that, stop teasing me.” In his own voice David said, “Never again, dear.”
David removed his finger covering Phyllis’ lips, touched it to his own lips, and lightly kissed it.
Phyllis rolled her eyes and gave him a sharp punch to his solar plexus. David looked up at her with a look of complete surprise, disbelief, and innocence. Phyllis just rolled her eyes and sighed.
“Love,” said David*, “I’m going to need to get back to work. Dinner then?”
Phyllis looked adoring at her husband, “Works for me too. We’ll meet at dinner tonight.” He toggled a mental switch and the flesh and blood representation of his body shimmered out of existence. He was now operating in the full diamond computer mode on a dozen computers in the solar system. His unneeded atoms were recycled into the replicator.
Phyllis waited and watched as her husband disapporated, she wanted to get one last look at his body and smell his aroma, before she disapporated into the computer herself. She toggled her mental switch and her essence also was merged into the intra-Galactic net, the home of the new humanity.
###
About the Author Allen I. Fleishman, PhD
Born and raised in the Bronx, I originally studied Pre-Med. All their weird and unique names did me in (after all, Ulna should be the first name of an ugly Hungarian barmaid). In graduate school I switched majors to cognitive psychology. Cognitive psychology is the experimental branch of psychology looking at how we think and process information. I got as far as two years when I realized that the entire field of psychology is math illiterate. Psychology completely lacked the tools to study individuals. So I made the change to the University of Illinois and the mathematical/statistical end of psychology, where I received a PhD. At the U of I my work was entirely mathematical/statistical, despite the psychology major. My dissertation was a computer simulation examining ways to optimize prediction in the face of little data. I believe they still use the term ‘Fleishman’ as a synonym for a computer job lasting more than twelve hours (small jobs are pico-Fleishman). My only human experimentation was my infamous (at least at the local Institutional Review Board) study: “Asking my wife what she thinks”, a factor-analytic study of one person. To those of us who studied psychology, it was an unpublished implicit personality theory study. I feel it demonstrated that current theories of personalit
y (e.g., by Freud, Osgood, Cattell) are not universal. If everyone is idiosyncratic, then there will be people for whom the ‘Oedipal Complex’ is true and people for whom it is not. Furthermore, even for the Oedipal Complex people, it will be true at some times in their life, exacerbated by certain situations, but not all. Therefore, individuals and time/situation MUST be factored into any ‘General Unifying Theory of Psychology’.
It is my strongly held belief that “Psychology is a Crock”, until 1) every psych graduate student is completely proficient in time series analysis, three-mode factor analysis, cluster analysis and newer statistical multivariate and time series methodologies; 2) every psych PhD student has done at least one ‘N of 1’ research project; and 3) full professors would be expected to have integrated many ‘N of 1’ studies to demonstrate a theory. Any psychologist who confirms a theory by comparing two averages (across many people) or computes a correlation (across many people) at a single or a couple of time points should be laughed at, or pitied. Given that maturation takes decades, I can forgive ignoring time/situations, but never ignoring people – individuals. You cannot study people (Psychology) by computing averages. Those pseudo-psychologists who are unable to make the transition, should be moved over to Sociology, where group amalgams are appropriate.
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