by Bruce Buff
“Tell whomever you have to that things have changed and that I need to know. For one, you’ll need my help to fix the plasma turbulence. When’s the next experiment?”
“Tuesday.”
“Does it have to be that soon? I need time to get up to speed and analyze the data.”
“We have no choice but to stick with the schedule. As you know, the reactor will be shut down for maintenance after that. If we’re successful, we’ll have what we need to argue for a whole new energy policy. Funds will flood in, fusion power plants will be built rapidly, dependence on foreign oil will be eliminated, fracking can be put on hold, carbon emissions will be reduced, and we’ll have a green—actually, to be more accurate, less brown—America and a booming economy. So it really is a matter of national security, but not from a direct military perspective.”
“I can’t believe it; we could be on the verge of developing fusion energy power.”
“Go home and enjoy the day. Next week will be very busy for both of us.”
“I will. And thanks for the illumination,” Sousan said with a smirk.
With a feigned look of disdain at the pun, Viktor waved her out of his office.
• • •
Viktor closed the door to his office, sat down at his desk, and removed the lower drawer. Taped to the bottom was a pouch. He opened it, withdrew a page, and examined what looked like a satellite image of an area of land. Scattered across it were circles of different colors and sizes. There were indeed a lot of powerful implications that could come from their work. The images he’d just viewed could dramatically alter balances of power and trigger dreadful events.
After placing the image in his jacket pocket, he sifted through a dozen other images, chose two, and put them in an envelope that he then sealed and addressed.
Replacing the drawer, Viktor put on his jacket. It was time to get real answers from Stephen. The discussion could turn out as hot as the experiments that he had just conducted. Powerful forces were building, the world was approaching another terrible juncture, and he had to make sure the right things were done.
Chapter 13
Professor Bishop, as Stephen was known to his students, sat at his office desk, located on the second floor of the Koch Building, headquarters of MIT’s Department of Biology, leafing through stacks of mail and papers that had grown in his absence.
He was rarely there these days, instead spending the majority of his time at the Human Betterment Corporation headquarters, where his office had a stunning view and walls decorated with numerous awards, framed magazine covers, and other forms of recognition of his accomplishments and stature. While they didn’t interest him much, they helped impress potential investors and collaborators. There was no need for that here.
As he waited for Viktor to arrive, for a conversation he wasn’t looking forward to having, Stephen thought how strange it was that he felt out of place in his old, now mostly barren, office.
It had once felt as cozy as any science professor’s office could have, which was good considering all the time he had spent there. Other than a small, flat-screen monitor and the papers he was disposing of, the only thing on his desk was a large picture of his wife, Nancy, hugging their nine-year-old-daughter, Ava. Looking at their picture, he regretted all the time he had spent away from them, working late nights and weekends, trying to unlock the secrets of DNA. He was fascinated by the way information from long strings of base pairs, like a four-letter alphabet—G, T, A, and C—directed the size and shape of people, determined hair color, differentiated cell development so that eyes actually saw, structured the brain so minds could think, and regulated complex protein development.
It had been an extraordinary trip of exploration that had been full of surprises. At first, the idea of sequencing the human genome—basically, reading each of the three-billion letters within the chromosomes—was something that had seemed possible only in the long-off future. Then a steady stream of progress in DNA sequencing had reduced the time needed to do this from decades to a few years. Two competing initiatives, one privately sponsored, the other government funded, both succeeded, culminating in a completely sequenced human genome in 2003. Since then, incredible advances had cut the time needed to decode DNA from years to days, and now, even to hours.
After DNA was sequenced, it was time to figure out how the genome did its thing. It was expected that he, as one of the world’s top geneticists, would play a leading role in this effort.
Naturally, he should have jumped at the opportunity to lead research at a start-up biotech company with a team of his choosing, financed by one of the richest men in the world.
Nonetheless, he had repeatedly spurned HBC’s numerous offers, uncomfortable with the idea of commercializing genetics. It wasn’t until Ava’s diagnosis that he had relented, hoping that large investments could speed the pace of discoveries, including the ones his daughter might need. He was also lured by the emerging field of gene editing. The idea of designer humans bothered him, and the only way to influence the direction of that was to be part of it.
In the beginning, it had been slow going, and frustrating. But then came the surprise of surprises, a shock so great that no one could have been prepared for it. Even now, he was amazed that he had stumbled upon it, as though he was meant to discover it, for he doubted it could be found otherwise.
He wondered where everything would lead.
Viktor’s work would help answer part of that question.
So far, it had cost one person severely. According to the police report, prior to his crash, Alex had cracked his skull, most likely from a fall in the HBC parking lot. The resulting concussion had disoriented him, leading to his tragic decision to enter the highway’s exit ramp.
At least that is what the report said. Stephen worried that there was more to it.
Chapter 14
His energy was all but spent and he felt already separated from the world, his nearly skeletal frame motionless under the hospital bedsheets. Slowly, he rolled his head to the right and angled it down.
Through half-opened eyes—eyes that saw the world through a gray-scale tunnel, when they saw at all—he stared at his right hand. Jaundiced, nearly translucent, paper-thin skin traced the contours of the bones of his fingers and wrist.
Incapable of yelling out loud, of any sound more than a raspy whisper, in one of the lucid moments that came but a few times a day, he shouted to himself that he was not going to die, ever.
Yet the signs on the multiphase bio-monitor were unmistakable. He observed a series of lines tracing irregular paths, each with a distinct rhythm, across the monitor’s display. All were outside the normal parameters indicated on the monitor, illustrating that his body’s key functions were in the throes of a final breakdown.
Time was cruelly teasing him as his was running out. His life was ending just as The Singularity—when technology would transform humans past the limits of their biological bodies—was on the horizon. Why should a mind like his be subject to decay when machines that humans created could go on indefinitely? Why couldn’t silicon chips hold his mind until the day came when it could be replaced by something more eternal and powerful? Intelligence should be able to create something superior to that which had not been created, that had come into existence simply through random interactions.
Stuck in the present, he was fighting merely to survive.
With extreme effort, he tried to raise his hand. Initially, it only trembled. Gradually, though his elbow remained anchored to the bed, his forearm rose, his wrist hanging limply. With his forearm nearly at its apex, he struggled to lift his hand and reach the bio-monitor.
His outstretched finger almost touched the device, only inches short. Straining, he tried to get closer by rolling his body, but despite the strenuous effort that was reflected on the bio-monitor, he could not budge.
He concentrated all his will on
the small gap left between his forefinger and the bio-monitor’s controls.
Electric shocks began to course through his body. The room’s lights flickered. A surge of visible energy jumped from his finger to the monitor’s surface. He felt his essence begin to leave his body. The monitor’s display began to dance with unfamiliar images.
Suddenly, darkness came, followed by a brilliant flash. Fully conscious, his mind once again vibrant, he was aware that he no longer inhabited his lifeless body but yet was still alive.
A startling realization overcame him. He was now one with a machine.
• • •
Sarastro woke with a start. He almost never dreamed. Yet, for the past three nights, he’d had the same one of his corporal death and the metamorphosis of his mind into a machine.
He was not superstitious, but he nonetheless thought the dream had meaning.
Time indeed was running out, and things were headed in the wrong direction. The diagnosis was absolute: without an extraordinary medical breakthrough, he would be dead within three years.
At first, he had sought a cure. But then something with even more promise seemed possible. That something could provide true immortality and power.
Devastatingly, however, and without warning, the scientific breakthroughs that could save him, that seemed so imminent, were not materializing as they should have been. Something was amiss. People who were supposed to be committed to the project’s success were not delivering.
He would rectify that.
He hadn’t overcome all that he had, fought tooth and nail each step of the way through darkness so deep that it caused even the strongest hearts to tremble, to get to the pinnacle that he had, to just go meekly into the void, subdued by nothing more than time and decay.
Sarastro, leader of The Commission, had no intention of dying, of dissipating until the weakest of breezes could destroy his form. It wouldn’t be enough for the heavens to remember him, to scream his magnificence. He intended to become the heavens, to provide the light to which others flocked, to create a haven for them within the eternal world he’d shape.
Yet here he was, he of all people, almost shuddering from a dream of mortality. On the verge of immortality, a convergence of consciousness with the eternal on the horizon, and yet fear and doubt had crept in.
Without question, it was time to act.
Chapter 15
Viktor marched into Stephen’s office and flung himself down in the chair across from him. Perspiration dotted Viktor’s partially flushed, sun-worn face.
“I expect Welch called and told you about the results of our little preliminary experiment,” Viktor said with irritation that bordered on indictment.
“He said that it was a success, though not without the expected rough spots.”
“That’s one way of putting it. Another is that we came close to severely damaging the reactor, alarmed a few of our staff, and raised a red flag to someone we were trying to keep in the dark. Other than that, it definitely was a resounding success,” Viktor said sarcastically.
“What I heard was that you validated the theories, collected the data you needed, and that you’re in a good position for next week’s tests. I’d say that’s pretty good for a first run.”
“Aren’t you concerned about what news of our work could unleash?”
“Of course I am, Viktor. But from what I understand, there wasn’t much for people to put together. And you told them this was just an issue with calibrating a new reactor,” said Stephen. “So what’s really bothering you? You didn’t charge over here just to talk about things I know you can easily handle yourself.”
Narrowing his eyes, Viktor said, “I need real answers. The ambiguous ones you’ve given before won’t do any longer. We all have a lot of skin in this game and I’d like to keep mine from getting burned.”
Stephen clasped his hands behind his head while leaning back in his chair. He had good reasons for withholding information from Viktor. Until Stephen knew all that he was dealing with, he had to limit what people knew to the barest minimum, and sometimes what they had been told wasn’t completely true.
Welch was one of the few who knew more, most of it true. Stephen had met Welch through Alex. After Alex’s death, Stephen had shared some of the physics insights with Welch.
Welch was a good choice because he knew the latest research, both public and classified, and had access to equipment to test aspects of the theories in small ways without attracting attention. At times this included unauthorized use of top-secret government facilities. Another thing was that Stephen knew from discussions they’d previously had that Welch believed that the universe was the work of divine providence. Stephen used this to both interest Welch and ensure his confidentiality by telling him that Stephen and Alex had been working together on the relationship between the laws of physics and the origin of human life.
For now, the less Viktor knew, the better. Still, Stephen had to tell Viktor something more now to satisfy him for a while longer.
Straightening, Stephen said, “Viktor, have you ever thought that maybe, given all your concerns, we’re protecting you?”
“I don’t care about protection. I want to make sure everything we do is for the right purpose. You haven’t lived through the things I have, where scientific advances were used to destroy and subjugate. The world was the emigration of a few scientists away from being dominated by an atomic-armed Nazi Germany,” Viktor said emphatically.
“It’s exactly because of things you experienced that I hold back some information for now. We need a little more time,” Stephen said. It was a plea as much as a statement of fact. “I will tell you one thing that I haven’t before. The connection between physics and biology may be closer than you think. It looks like certain properties of matter predispose the formation of life. Understand one well and you understand the other better. The symmetry in physical laws is somehow related to the organization of life. Your tests will help prove some of this. That’s part of the reason I’m involved.”
Viktor sat silently for a few minutes, lost in thought, and then said, “In some ways, that’s not surprising. I’ve often speculated about the incredible odds involved in evolution and have never been satisfied with the idea of an overwhelming large universe, or an infinite number of multiverses, as an answer, despite what the math says is possible. But it’s all the more reason that I need to know what’s going on.”
“When the time’s right, I promise that you’ll receive all the information and assurances you need, from as high an authority as you could want.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” said Viktor. “And remember, I value truth, not authority.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be satisfied.”
“What do we do about computer security in the interim? The lab’s servers aren’t capable of protecting the data, and things could easily get hot in more ways than one after next week’s experiments,” Viktor stated.
“I’m taking care of that tonight,” said Stephen.
“With your not-so-friendly friend Dan, the guy you keep trying to get in touch with? Is he even up for this? Can’t we get someone else?”
“He’s one of the best and, once he’s on board, we can depend on him without question.” Stephen looked away into the distance.
After a long pause, Viktor said, “Your silence doesn’t inspire confidence.”
Stephen replied, “Dan is the right guy for us. For a good part of his career, he worked in a government intelligence agency as one of its top data encryption and computer security experts. We need both of these capabilities to protect our work.”
“I hope you’re right about Dan. Take a look at this,” Viktor said. He pulled an 8½-by-11-inch image from his jacket pocket, unfolded it, and placed it on the desk between them. On it, lines indicated the major geographic features and borders of the United States. Differ
ent-sized colored circles were dispersed over the area.
Stephen sat straight up as though a massive electric shock had just traveled through his spine, grabbed the image, and said, “Is this what I think it is?”
“Absolutely. The circles indicate the type, quantity, and location of all significant amounts of nuclear material within the geographic area of the image.”
“Then what the hell are you doing carrying this around?” Stephen said loudly. “Don’t you have any idea what certain countries would do to get hold of images like this, what they’d do with them? You know what could happen.”
“Sure I do.”
“How did you generate them?”
“You’re not the only one with clever ideas. All I did was tap into and adapt technologies that were already in place, plus borrowed equipment from a few labs. Anyway, I’ll tell you my secrets when you tell me yours.”
“You know I could cut you out of this program anytime I want. Welch works with me,” Stephen answered with more than a little threat in his voice.
“You can relax. Welch knows how I created the images. And we’re a long way from being able to generate global images. These are only proof-of-concepts.”
After a brief pause, Viktor added, “Stephen, we’ve known each other a long time, and I have a great respect for you, but are you sure you’re not in over your head?”
“I’m handling things just fine, thanks.”
After another period of silence, Viktor said, “It really is incredible what we’re doing. Who would have thought we’d get so close to understanding the foundations of physical laws and use that knowledge to generate fusion power, and eventually way more than that?”
Stephen answered, “Sometimes I wonder if we should even be doing these things.”
