The Future Will Be BS Free

by Will McIntosh

  “It’s working on me, anyway.” Theo rotated the laptop so the screen was facing him. “Leave your phone over there.” He pointed at the gutted MRI. I peeled my phone off my wrist. “Any electronic device within twenty feet drowns out the signal because it’s so weak. Stand still. Right over there. It still can’t track a moving head. And it’s still way too big.”

  I stood across the table from him, arms at my sides, heart pumping.

  “How much do you weigh?” Theo asked.

  “Um, one sixty.” I weighed more like one thirty-eight, with my clothes on after a big meal.

  Theo touched the bridge of his wire-rimmed glasses, studying the readout. “That’s a lie?”

  “Yes! We should be recording this. This is like Thomas Edison’s first phone call.” I set my phone to record.

  Theo rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, thinking. “When is your mother’s birthday?”

  “June eleventh.”

  Theo leaned toward the laptop screen. “That one’s true.”

  “That’s right.” I couldn’t believe it was working. I’d believed we could do this, but, I realized, I hadn’t believed we would.

  “What about your father?”

  “October ninth.”

  “False.” Theo looked up. “But it’s close, isn’t it? Either October is right, or the ninth?”

  “Holy—” My father’s birthday was October tenth.

  Theo gave me a huge grin. “It’s not either-or. It’s giving us a reading of ACC activity. If the ACC really lights up, it’s a big lie; if it stays gray, it’s the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

  “But there’s a lot in between,” I said. I’d known our lie detector wasn’t either-or, but having Theo pluck that detail out of my head felt like magic.

  I couldn’t stop grinning. Theo was grinning right back at me, which looked kind of strange, because Theo never smiled.

  Theo’s eyes were red-rimmed; his good hand trembled, his palsied hand cradled against his stomach. Four empty Red Bull cans were scattered on the floor near his chair. “Have you been here all night?” I asked.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  While the rest of us had being getting our beauty sleep. “We really should be dividing up the company fifty-fifty. You get half, and the rest of us split the other half.”

  Theo shook his head. “Everyone gets an equal share.”

  I studied the unremarkable-looking laptop on the card table. “It’s completely portable now?”

  “It is. It’s going to have to get a lot smaller, though.”

  I eyed the metal beast on the card table and laughed. “You think? We can do it, though, right?”

  Theo nodded. “We just need money to buy the SQUID, to convert to a weak magnetic field. And the readout is too complicated.” He pointed at the blob on the laptop screen that represented my brain. “We need Rebe and Basquiat to finish that zero-to-ten meter.”

  “I’m guessing this will light a fire under them.” Not that they’d been lollygagging, but they had been sleeping nights.

  “Everything is about to change.” Theo had that faraway, ecstatic look in his eyes. “For the first time in history, good people—honest people—are going to have the advantage. It’s going to turn the existing power structure on its head. I can’t wait to see it.” Theo followed politics the way I followed underground music, even though doing so made him furious and miserable. No one hated lies and bullshit more than Theo. I think that’s why he came up with the idea for the lie detector before anyone else—to him, it wasn’t a way to get rich, it was a dream come true.

  I patted Theo’s shoulder. When he got going on his “Dawn of a New Age” talk, I just nodded. I wasn’t convinced things were going to change that much. Besides us becoming incredibly rich, of course.

  “We should do something to celebrate.”

  “Not a party,” Theo said, sounding slightly mortified. Theo was not a party person.

  I shook my head. I’d been fantasizing about this day for close to a year; I’d had time to come up with the perfect way to mark the occasion.

  “Poker game.”

  I fanned out the three cards I’d drawn, holding my hand close to my face. I’d picked up a second pair, giving me tens over twos.

  “I’ll bet a thousand.” Molly tossed a white chip into the pot.

  I reached for the laptop, which was currently facing Basquiat. “May I?” I turned the laptop so I could see the screen, the camera pointed at Molly.

  “Can you beat a pair of aces?” I asked.

  Molly shook her head, then burst out laughing as I watched her ACC glow bright red.

  “Liar. What do you have? Two pair?”

  “Maybe,” she shot back.

  “Two pair. You have two pair, don’t you?”

  Molly’s ACC started to glow again, which meant she didn’t have two pair. I set my two pair on the table, face up. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to fold.”

  “Me too.” Theo set his cards down.

  “Hang on.” Basquiat shoved all his chips into the pot. “I’m all in.”

  Molly spun the laptop so its camera pointed at Basquiat. “Can you beat three tens?”

  “Nope,” Basquiat said, laughing, tears in the corners of his eyes. He’d been laughing almost nonstop through the whole game.

  Molly pushed a bunch of chips into the pot to see his bet, then showed her three tens. Not that we needed to see them to know she had them.

  At the top of the stairs, Basquiat’s Yorkie scratched at the door and whined.

  “Go away, Clark, we’re not letting you in,” Basquiat called. Clark was a relentless moocher, and the basement was already small enough without a dog in it.

  “We’re going to destroy poker,” Rebe said.

  “Nah,” Boob said. “You’ll have to check your lie detector at the door. I mean, you can’t bring extra cards, or mirrors on the end of long sticks.”

  “What are you talking about? I always bring my mirror on a long stick when I play poker,” Basquiat said.

  I pointed the laptop at Basquiat. “Have you ever cheated at cards?”

  “Absolutely.” He paused a beat. “With my sister, when I was, like, eleven.” The readout said he was telling the truth.

  Basquiat spun the laptop around. “What about you?”

  “Same,” I said. “Only when I was a kid.”

  “Have you ever cheated on a test?” Rebe asked.

  The others leaned in to see the screen.

  I didn’t even have to answer. “Ooh.” Rebe waggled one finger at me. “Naughty boy.”

  “Algebra, right?” Basquiat asked.

  “Right.” I’d told him about it at the time. “And once in chemistry, when I missed a bunch of classes because of a respiratory infection.” I could feel my face burning. Kids cheated on tests all the time in our school. All the time. They bragged about it like it was something to be proud of. We didn’t cheat, though. We didn’t have to cheat. Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe our integrity was supposed to be worth more than a good grade.

  I turned the laptop to face Rebe. “How about you? Have you ever cheated on a test?”

  “Only like eleven thousand times.” Rebe smiled brightly. She was telling the truth. I felt a little better, though I knew Basquiat had never cheated, and not only would Boob roast in his own guilt for years if he ever cheated, he’d be too terrified of getting caught to even try. I’d eat a minivan if Theo had ever cheated on a test, which left Molly. She probably hadn’t, but then again, that question wasn’t high on my list of things I wanted to ask her.

  “I’ve got one. This one’s for everyone.” Rebe took control of the laptop and turned it to face Boob. “Are you a virgin?”

  Boob folded his arms. “I’m not answering that. That’s way too personal
.”

  Theo raised a finger. “The thing is, you don’t have to answer for the machine to work. If I say, ‘You are a virgin,’ for example, your ACC is going to react to the statement.”

  Rebe leaned toward the screen. “It stayed mostly blue.”

  “Get that thing out of my face.” Boob reached over and shoved the computer so it wasn’t facing him.

  “Which means the statement is true,” Theo said.

  “How about you, Basquiat?” Rebe rotated the laptop to face him.

  “Me? I’m afraid I’m no longer chaste.”

  Rebe moved on to Theo, who reddened as he stammered, “I’ve never even k-k-kissed a girl.”

  I was next. “Yep.” I tried to sound matter-of-fact, but I could feel myself turning red again. Basquiat and Boob knew I was a virgin, but to admit to it in front of the girls was embarrassing. I don’t know why—I was only seventeen, but somehow being a virgin felt too consistent with having to shave only once every three days.

  When it was Molly’s turn, her answer was just a whisper. “No.” Her voice grew louder as she added, “Can we stop with the immature questions? We can test it without this sort of thing.”

  “We could, but that wouldn’t be fun,” Rebe said.

  I was reeling from Molly’s answer. Since I first fell in love with Molly during freshman-year orientation for the science magnet program, I’d always thought she would be my first, and I would be hers. But no, her first had probably been Blaze.

  “I think Molly’s right,” Theo said. “This is getting out of hand.”

  “Yeah. Let’s just play cards,” Boob chimed in.

  Rebe raised her eyebrows at Boob. “What are you afraid of?”

  Boob half stood, as if he was going to walk out, then sat again. “It’s like you get pleasure out of making people uncomfortable.” He gestured toward the door. “You’re not going to be happy until we’re all screaming at each other the way your family does, are you?”

  It was immediately obvious that Boob had hit a nerve. Slowly, deliberately, Rebe turned the laptop to face Boob again. “Is that why you dumped me, because you think I enjoy getting a rise out of people?” Her voice was shaking.

  “What?” Boob sounded flabbergasted. “I didn’t dump you.”

  “That’s enough,” Theo said. “Come on, Rebe.”

  Ignoring Theo, Rebe gave Boob a flat Who do you think you’re kidding? look. “We were going out, and you said you wanted to stop. What would you call it?”

  Boob sputtered. No actual words came out, as far as I could tell. I’d been under the impression the breakup was mutual. That’s what they’d said, at least.

  “Was I too boring?” Rebe checked the readout. “Do you think I’m white trash? Am I too fat?”

  Rebe was overweight, but in the right places. She didn’t have trouble finding guys who were interested, but usually they weren’t the guys she wanted to be interested.

  “Come on.” Boob shoved the laptop so it wasn’t pointing at him.

  Rebe went to repoint the laptop at Boob, but Molly grabbed her wrist. “Rebe, cut it out.”

  Rebe yanked her hand free. “Let go of me.”

  “How would you like it if we started interrogating you?” Molly asked.

  Rebe spun the computer around so the camera was pointing at her. She folded her arms. “Go ahead.”

  “I don’t want to. I want you to stop.”

  “Yeah, come on Rebe,” Basquiat said.

  Rebe looked from Molly to Basquiat. “Gee, I wonder what the two of you are afraid might come out.”

  Now I was confused. I had no idea what Rebe was talking about.

  Molly eyes were glowing with rage. “You want to see what it feels like? Fine.” She leaned toward the laptop screen. “Have you ever made yourself throw up?”

  “What?” Rebe looked like she’d been slapped.

  “You want to get everyone’s secrets out in the open, right?” Molly asked.

  “Why would you ask me something like that?”

  Molly rolled her eyes. “The stalls in the girls’ room at school aren’t soundproof. I can’t see what you’re doing in there, but I have ears.”

  I exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Theo. Wow. This was out of control.

  “What?” Rebe looked from me to Theo. “I saw that look. You have something you want to say?”

  “No, I—”

  Rebe grabbed the laptop. “Sam, are you in love with Molly?”

  I turned my hands palms-up. “That’s not exactly a revelation. Although I think ‘in love’ is an exaggeration.”

  Rebe studied the readout. “No, it isn’t. You love her. But you think all her psychic stuff is crap, don’t you?”

  Boob stood. “All right, that’s enough.”

  “I never said that.” My throat was tight, my voice higher than usual.

  “You never said it to me, but you said it,” Rebe shot back.

  Yes, I had. To Boob and Basquiat, in confidence. And one of them had told Rebe. “You’re not using the lie detector; you’re betraying a confidence. There’s a difference.”

  Rebe ignored me. “So you love Molly, but you think what she believes is silly. So really, you’re in love with how she looks.”

  “Come on—” Theo started to say, but I cut him off.

  “Are you saying I’m shallow?”

  “No more than most guys. It’s just, most guys are more honest about it.”

  “Where is this coming from?” I nearly shouted. “I’m not the one who heard you sticking your finger down your throat in the bathroom. Are you jealous because I don’t like you?”

  Basquiat turned the laptop to face Rebe. “Are you?”

  Rebe glared at Basquiat. “Does he know about you and Molly?”

  I laughed.

  Only, Basquiat wasn’t laughing.

  Suddenly I felt sick, like I’d eaten eleven hot dogs.

  Boob headed up the steps to the door. “That it. I’m going home.” He opened the door, then paused, one hand on the knob. “I think you should cut this out before none of us are friends anymore.”

  No one moved as the door closed.

  Rebe was staring at the table. I was having a hard time looking at anyone, too. My best friend was seeing the one girl I liked behind my back? The other ten girls he’d gone out with hadn’t been enough—he had to have Molly, too?

  “Maybe we’ll be better off because of this.” Molly sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “Maybe it’s best to get everything out in the open and have nothing left to hide.”

  “Nothing left to hide?” Basquiat turned the laptop toward Molly. “Is there anything we’re not asking that you really wouldn’t want anyone here to know?”

  Molly swallowed. She didn’t answer.

  Basquiat looked at me without touching the laptop. “How about you?”

  I nodded. Oh yes, there was something I most definitely didn’t want Molly in particular to know, and as the implication of Basquiat’s question sank in, I felt a rising panic. Last winter Molly and I had been talking on the phone, and Molly failed to disconnect the line. I, honest sport that I was, muted my end of the line and secretly watched Molly for the next two hours. During hour two, Molly took a shower. Awful and guilty and slimy as I felt, I still had to cross my legs just thinking about it.

  Basquiat pointed at Theo and Rebe in turn. They both agreed there were things they didn’t want anyone to know.

  “Me too,” Basquiat said. “We’re just scratching the surface. What if we knew the right questions to ask?”

  Molly shoved the laptop so it wasn’t pointed at her. “This is awful.”

  I couldn’t argue. I felt awful. Miserable. Ashamed. Betrayed.

  “We shouldn’t use this anymore,” Basquiat said. “It’s
like juggling sticks of dynamite.”

  “Why are we making it, if we don’t want to use it ourselves?” Molly asked.

  “You use it sometimes. Not all the time,” I said. The truth was, I was doing it for the money. How people did or didn’t use it was their business.

  “People won’t be able to resist using it all the time,” Rebe said. “It’s like the most powerful drug ever invented.”

  “It’s not a drug,” Theo said. “It’s the truth.”

  Basquiat nodded. The armpits of his Jets T-shirt were so damp, there were visible rings.

  Molly stood. “I need to get home.” She didn’t say I’ll see you tomorrow or anything; she just headed for the door.

  Once she was gone, an incredibly awkward silence followed. We all stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact.

  Does Sam know about you two? Rebe had asked. Did that imply present tense? Were Molly and Basquiat together now?

  Theo broke the silence. “It’s good that we know what we’re dealing with. It’s going to change everything. Business, government, friendships; how people talk, how they think. It’ll be hard at first, but in the long run it’s going to be a better world.”

  Theo was always talking about paradigm change this and revolution that. For the first time, I felt like I understood what he was talking about. This technology was going to change everything.

  Rebe walked out without a word to anyone. She’d probably hung around only because she didn’t want to walk out at the same time as Boob or Molly.

  When Theo stood to leave, I fell into step beside him.

  “Sam, can I talk to you for a minute?” Basquiat called.

  I didn’t want to talk to Basquiat. Honestly, I didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. I stopped walking.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” Basquiat said when Theo was gone. “I asked Molly if we could keep it to ourselves because I knew you’d be hurt.”

  Hurt? I was destroyed. Basquiat and I had been friends since second grade.

  “When Molly and I were in the same trig class in the fall, we studied together a lot, and one thing led to another….”