Freedom Club

by Saul Garnell

  Opening his eyes slowly, he gazed upon the holy sea which frothed before him. Early morning rays glanced off the drenched wet sand, pulling away and shifting about with small crabs, shells and pebbles. The waves rolled toward him, but he didn’t stir, motionless even as the foam jumbled up to where he sat.

  Then, slowly, it began again.

  From within a few meters of the shore, the water rippled at two distinct points. From this, two naked figures slowly emerged. A man and a woman, both perfect specimens of mankind. The man tall and lean, the woman somewhat shorter but with perfectly straight hair and voluptuous.

  Shiro knew exactly who they were the first time they appeared. Adam and Eve, the first two humans created by God. Emerging from the primordial soup, they appeared before him while holding hands like two lovers walking in the park.

  The reason for their visitation was a mystery. For years he pondered upon it, but to no end. Both walked slowly to the shoreline, careful not to step upon dry sand. They stood silently before him and looked at him with fascination, never speaking a word.

  On some occasions he attempted to communicate, other times not. In either case there was never any response. They just stared back. Shiro simply waited for the vision to move on as it always had. Eve slowly raised her arm, and pointed at him somberly. It was by no means any type of threatening gesture. Just a message of sorts, summoning Shiro to comply in some ambiguous manner. He knew better than to ask questions. There would be no answer. As always, he just smiled back in bewilderment.

  Eve’s arm then gradually lowered and together with Adam they returned into the churning sea, walking calmly until the tops of their heads were nothing more than a mild disturbance upon the waves.

  With that, the vision was over. But Shiro continued his meditation, pondering to himself in silence. Though logic and reasoning were the answer to many of life’s riddles, Shiro felt differently about his visions. Why were they always the same? And what was the significance of the Biblical reference? Did Eve beckon him for any important reason or was it just a meaningless gesture? There had to be some answer, some explanation that went beyond the realm of logic and common experience. But for all his intelligence, the answers eluded him. His Sentient mind was free to travel anywhere, but he might as well have been in an iron cage. Meandering thoughts pressed themselves up against the bars of his unconscious, looking for an explanation that never came.

  As time went by his mind eased, and unwelcome emotions were eventually brought under control. Shiro once again entered a tranquil state with the knowledge that no further visions would come that day. Like ephemeral psychic energy stored within his soul, there was enough for one experience, but never more. He took solace in that fact.

  Then, like a noose jerking him by the neck, the silence was broken as his priority line chimed. Looking at the screen which hovered before him, Shiro saw tags from Drexel at Chindo Securities. Huffing with displeasure, he picked up the call as the beach faded away, and was quickly transformed into a gleaming white office. Clothing and hair also rearranged themselves and left Joachim’s avatar standing behind a large ebony desk adorned with a simple set of paper stationary and other paraphernalia. The only remnant of the beach was a photo which hung neatly framed on the wall.

  Joachim said, “Hello, Drexel. I assume you are calling me back with information on Takahana?”

  Drexel spoke in a crisp businesslike tone. “Yes, let me update you on the current status. We have the team forming around this, so the detailed work will all be taken care of without concern. I even found an extremely good analyst out of our Bengaluru office. A hipo that will ensure the success of this deal.”

  “Excellent, and security matters will be carried out as per my instructions? We don’t want anyone below C-level left on the deal by the time we’re ready to close.”

  Drexel nodded. “Everyone will be reorganized exactly as you have specified. But that isn’t my main concern. What seems to be an issue is Hangzhou Qiandaohu’s move to acquire the target. I think we may need to move up our timetable and be done in the next week or so.”

  “I don’t have any issues with that,” Joachim said dryly. “They don’t represent any real competition. We can easily outbid them.”

  “True, but some of my analysts feel the scenario represents too great a premium.”

  Joachim brushed away the comment with a smile. “The analysts have historically been quite shortsighted. We don’t change our strategic plans to suit their fancy.”

  Perhaps it was an arrogant statement, but Shiro enjoyed displaying casual exuberance. Uncharacteristic for Sentients, it always pleased him to take risks when others advised caution. In fact, risk was a unique trait for which he prided himself. It was, arguably, a characteristic that Sentients typically shunned.

  “Of course, you’re right,” Drexel politically agreed. “Still, there might be a temporary reaction to Aleph-Beta’s market capital. As long as that doesn’t strain any financing plans, you can proceed.”

  Joachim nodded. “Your advice is quite sound as always. Please keep your eye on this for me. However, this acquisition is absolutely critical for us. We won’t back off unless a serious threat appears.”

  Joachim’s other line rang in the background. Glancing momentarily at it, he could see it was a Quantum call. He made no reaction, but thought momentarily before looking back with only the slightest expression of concern.

  “Apologies. I must take this,” Joachim said.

  “Understood, I’ll contact you again just before our next milestone.”

  Joachim hung up and instantiated the Quantum link as he again transformed the room into a private home office. The gleaming white of Aleph-Beta was replaced with dark mahogany furniture, hardwood floors, Persian rugs, and a large crucifixion of Christ. Exemplifying the style enjoyed by pontiffs from centuries past, the difference of his new surroundings couldn’t have been greater.

  Shiro sat down in a massive carved chair and tapped the wood-framed flexi screen that floated eerily out of place. Within moments an image of Shunro Kamiyoshi’s came into view. Troubled and brooding, Shunro sounded noticeably fearful.

  “Hello, Shiro, it’s me.”

  “Father! I didn’t expect a call from you,” Shiro exclaimed happily. “We have not spoken in quite some time.”

  “For good reason, my son. It’s always a risk making contact like this. But...but given the circumstances I feel there was little choice.”

  Shunro’s breathing had increased and he visibly strained to keep his composure. His exhausted state was further evidenced by pallid skin and dark baggy eyes due to sleep deprivation.

  Shiro looked on with concern. “You don’t look well. Is there something troubling you?”

  Shunro sighed heavily, a mix of exhaustion and despair. “Calls like this only take place if absolutely necessary. So I gave this a great deal of thought...”

  “There is no reason to fear,” Shiro reassured him. “Please tell me what troubles you.”

  “Kim and Nagel. Do you remember them?”

  The names didn’t surprise him, but the direction of their conversation was more than clear. Shiro paused for a moment and played with a bone letter opener for several seconds. His Sentient mind raced ahead with several dozen possible conversations, all of which were analyzed and assigned weighted outcomes. This resulted in a simple answer geared for human interaction.

  “Of course.”

  Kamiyoshi sighed again, deeper and more painfully. “Well, they called me and said they want disclosure. To talk publicly about what happened.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You know?” Shunro exclaimed with shock.

  “I didn’t know they contacted you, but I am aware of their plan to disclose past events.”

  Shunro was astounded. “You knew and didn’t tell me about it? How long were you aware?”

  “How long is irrelevant,” Shiro said waving a hand dismissively. “All that matters is that they must be stopped from
divulging anything. You can rest assured that I’ll take care of it.”

  “Take care of it?” Shunro shook his head totally confused. “What are you talking about? How do you intend to stop them if they continue. They arrive on the Martin-”

  “Luther King, Jr.,” Shiro said cutting him off. “I know the flight they’ve booked. But please don’t worry, father. They will cause us no harm. I would never allow anyone to hurt you. Actually, I’m sorry that you even found out. I was hoping this would all go away before you got involved.”

  Shiro smiled, resting peacefully in his chair. A gesture meant to display confidence and offer assurance. Shiro’s attitude was anything but assuring to Kamiyoshi, who appeared more fearful than before.

  “Shiro,” he said with rising angst. “What are you planning? You know our faith prohibits us from harming anyone. You know the commandments. I taught them to you myself.”

  Shiro grinned. “I have no desire to bring anyone harm, father. But at the same time, I cannot allow you to be harmed either. If the truth were revealed, you would be in grave danger. Even you must agree that catechism allows one to protect and defend his family.”

  Shunro shook his head and stood up in his chair. “That’s different! Self defense is reserved for legitimate authority, and only those individuals who have absolutely no other alternative.”

  Shiro was annoyed and clenched his fists. “The threat that faces us is not a matter of speculation! Perhaps human minds like yours can forget the terror of life-threatening situations, but I remember it all in great detail. This is every bit as deadly as it was years ago. They could have taken our lives then. Now, I’ll defend our family and stop all those who would cause us harm, whether from direct attack or indirect action. We’re not helpless!”

  Shunro sat in horror. But even so, Shiro was angry and showed little remorse for the pain he inflicted. He was no longer innocent and helpless. Having incorporated many human elements into his persona, Shiro was different from any other of his kind. Shunro Kamiyoshi needed to see that. And soon the world would too.

  “My son, I don’t know what’s happened to you over all these years, but I beg you to use your faith as a beacon for guidance. Remember the Sermon on the Mount and all my teachings. You have never been alone.”

  The words broke Shiro’s anger like hammer against glass. He looked at Shunro with all the affection of a small boy. And though they’d been apart for many years, Shiro’s feelings for him had never diminished. How could he have forgotten? Smiling, he spoke softly to the only human that mattered to him on the entire planet.

  “Whatever I do, I do for you. If I put my soul in danger of being judged by our heavenly father, then so be it! I couldn’t go on living on earth without doing everything in my power to protect you. Please remember that. No matter what happens, please just remember that one thing.”

  Shunro Kamiyoshi sat silently as tears streamed down his face. He was speechless, but it didn’t matter. Perhaps his emotional outburst was enough. Shiro looked on for a few moments and nodded with the understanding that only a father and son could share.

  Though intense love between Sentient Beings and humans was unheard of, the two bonded as few do in life, unified as one while at the same time knowing they may never see each other again. It was an unfortunate situation, yet familiar.

  The past was beginning to reassert itself and Shiro was faced with a great challenge. But what he didn’t realize was the efforts of others. Those who worked on similar challenges that in some respects were related to his own. This was difficult to see, however.

  For the superficial nature of their problems appeared different, as did their methods of resolution.

  Shinzou sat idly at his workstation mulling over DNA models. Faint light from moving images on the flexi walls nearby produced complex patterns around the room. Soothing shadows that added depth to the workspace Shinzou and Henry found themselves in over long hours.

  Their office, if one could call it that, was also a mixture of electronic equipment of every description, and sprinkled with knickknacks from bygone ages. Nearby were several computers from the previous century. And on equipment racks that lined the entire room’s perimeter rested antique toys and industrial age tools of every shape and description. Eccentric taste, but it was after all their home, which they had come to love and cherish.

  Sitting in front of his primary flexi monitor, Shinzou yawned while lethargically moving molecules around the screen. Large arrays of nucleotides reconfigured themselves as side notes and markups trailed down the right side of his view.

  “I don’t think so,” Henry said, looking up from across the room.

  “Hmm?” Shinzou mumbled.

  “More like this, I believe.” The molecules rearranged themselves under the careful guidance of Henry’s dexterous fingers.

  Looking down, Shinzou gazed on as Henry’s solution became increasingly apparent. He nodded slowly, and without argument went on to the next step of their analysis.

  Like two small children playing with wood blocks. That was the emotional state shared by both Shinzou and Henry as they worked together in this fashion. Naturally, blocks were replaced with all sorts of sophisticated things. Technical documents, charts, diagrams, equations, specifications, designs, and the like. But the emotions related to the work were mostly identical. One would place it carefully down, while the other placed the next piece alongside.

  Perhaps a playful argument would erupt. What were you thinking? Shinzou would say. Linear regression? Are you crazy? Come, come, now, argued Henry in response. Not every problem is nonlinear in nature. A simple OLS is more than enough. Even a monkey can see the complexity here. Clearly biospatial analysis is called for! And so on and so forth.

  They were so accustomed to working with each other in a unified manner, collaborative efforts became their primary activity. A symbiotic relation, but not biological. More like a mental union that brought both the greatest satisfaction and produced superior results. For both Shinzou and Henry, nothing mattered more than getting their work done right.

  After some time, Shinzou looked at his antique wall clock. They had been at it for several hours and Shinzou began to suffer from fatigue. The time had slipped by without notice until human biology began to rear its ugly head.

  “Time for some food,” Shinzou said, as he leaned back and stretched both his arms. “Anyway, analysis of the non-stop board shows clearly that the Quad was brought down by us.”

  “Indeed,” Henry said with an agreeable nod. “The combination of encrypted signatures is unmistakable. I suppose we can expect a number of similar failures to start. The human race will be greatly inconvenienced.”

  Shinzou went over to the kitchen and began to fix some lunch. “As it must be,” he said, yanking food from the cooler. “What about you, Henry? Your biological systems need anything?”

  Henry shook his head and floated closer to where Shinzou busily began preparing lunch. “All my systems are fine. I won’t require any nutri-maintenance for a few more days.”

  Looking down, Shinzou frowned. “Look at this! I can’t get away from technology even when I prepare this simple meal.”

  Shaking his head, Shinzou used his hand to squash down a clearly overstacked pile of deli meat, vegetables, and gourmet cheese between two slices of stout German bread.

  “Why complain? You never showed interest in growing food,” Henry pointed out.

  “No, I meant the sandwich. You see, it in itself is a result of technology,” Shinzou said, while taking a large bite. “It didn’t exist until the onset of the industrial revolution. It became standard fair in factories when people no longer had the luxury of sitting down for a meal.”

  “I thought it was named after Lord Sandwich, who preferred eating them while playing cards.”

  “True,” said Shinzou, still chewing. “It was named after him, but only became popular in factories and mills. Finger food of the industrial revolution. Otherwise, it might never have
survived.”

  “Interesting,” Henry noted.

  “The point being that technology is everywhere. From the minute we are born, we’re literally swimming in it. We often don’t even notice this until we’re just about drowning to death.”

  Henry stroked his beard and contemplated. “Curious, what would you then suggest, that everyone farm and live in mud huts? Or better yet, perhaps you humans should just go back to an ancient hunter-gatherer society and live in caves.”

  “Like Anarcho-Primitives?”

  “Or others that consider grunting a lifestyle doctrine,” Henry reproached. “But it seems to me that one must determine how far back one can push technology. Or is it all pointless, akin to sweeping back the ocean?”

  Shinzou realized that Henry wanted to drag him into a philosophical dialectic. This was a form of play they had enjoyed since Henry was young. He didn’t mind though. It was after all a verbal form friendship. Looking at the remnants of his food, Shinzou considered the best way to enter their philosophical playground.

  “Well, that’s the issue,” Shinzou said thoughtfully. “Conservatives would push back all the way, to a very primitive way of life and forego all technology. But there is a more moderate form. Limit technology to things that individuals are capable of teaching to their immediate offspring. In that case, farming and simple construction techniques are allowed because no specialized schooling is required. Society would go on generation after generation with simple hand-me-down knowledge.”

  “That sounds like Kaczynski’s position,” Henry interjected.

  “Yes, the Unabomber, as he was called at that time, wrote precisely that in his manifesto. But controlling technology is a gray area. During the nineteenth century, Thoreau had already recommended living simply, even though it may have been not easily understood.”