Influx

CHAPTER 3 Postmortem

Jon Grady became aware that he was sitting in a stylish, modern office lobby high atop an unfamiliar city skyline. The view out the window was spectacular. Modern skyscrapers stretched along a coastal plain. It was a beautiful day.

What the hell?

Grady turned to see that he was sitting in a row of empty, modernist chairs in some sort of waiting room. He was wearing his only suit, loafers, and his lucky tie—the fabric a print of helium atoms. He caught his reflection in a mirrored wall opposite. It was the same outfit he’d been wearing three years earlier when he’d been interviewed for a research grant—in other words, the last time he’d worn a suit. Libby had helped him pick it out. Helped him look normal. His hair, too, was cut short, and he was clean-shaven.

Grady searched his pockets and found only a note on which Libby’s clean script spelled out “Good luck! ” in blue ink.

What the hell?

A handsome young man sitting behind a nearby built-in reception desk nodded to him. “Mr. Hedrick will see you now, Mr. Grady.”

Grady turned uncertainly. Social convention required that he get up now. Instead, he held up a pausing finger. “Uh… hang on a second.”

“Can I get you some water or coffee?”

Grady took a calming breath. “No, thanks. It’s just that… I was just…” He considered the possible scientific explanations. He had no idea how he’d gotten here. Just moments ago he’d been strapped to a bomb. Was this a hallucination? A last hurrah from the dying neurons in his brain? Time was relative, after all. This might all be happening in the instant he experienced biological death.

He looked around. It seemed pretty convincing.

“Are you all right, Mr. Grady?”

He wasn’t exactly certain. “I think I might be dying, actually.”

“Excuse me?”

Grady took another deep breath. “Who am I here to see?”

“Mr. Hedrick, sir. I’ll buzz you in.”

The assistant tapped some unseen button, and a nearby set of double doors opened, revealing a huge and opulent office suite beyond.

“Go right in.” The young man smiled pleasantly. “I’ll have some water brought to you.”

Grady nodded as he rose to his feet. “Thanks.” With another deep breath, he wandered over to the doorway and entered the most lavish office he’d ever seen. The multistory bank of windows on the far wall had a breathtaking view, through which he could clearly see the Sears Tower—or Willis Tower or whatever the hell they called it nowadays. Chicago. He was in Chicago. He remembered that he’d met with a grant committee in Chicago years before. But not in a place like this.

The office he stood in could have easily served as a small aircraft hangar, with several closed doors leading out of it to either side. Thirty-foot ceilings and modern burled wood walls—one of which had a large round seal engraved into it depicting a silhouette of a human head with a tree branching within like dendrites in the human brain. Arching around the top edge were the letters “BTC” and rounding the bottom were the Latin words “scientia potentia est.”

Knowledge is power.

Just below the seal a well-groomed and handsome Caucasian man in his fifties stood behind a large, modernist desk dotted with exotic souvenirs—complex Victorian clocks, mechanical contraptions, elaborate sculptures hinting at biological origins, and oversize double-helix DNA strands sealed in glass. The man was dressed in pressed casual business attire. Massive translucent digital displays were arrayed above and behind him, projecting a riot of silent video imagery and digital maps of the world. The displays looked impossibly thin and the images on them vibrant, hyperrealistic.

The man motioned for his visitor to come forward. “Mr. Grady, it’s good to finally meet you. I’ve read so much about your life and work. I feel I know you. Please sit. Can we get you anything?”

Grady still stood twenty feet away. “Uh. I’m… I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.”

The man nodded. “It can be disorienting, I know.”

“Who… who are you again? Why am I here?”

“My name is Graham Hedrick. I’m the director of the Federal Bureau of Technology Control. I must congratulate you, Jon—may I call you Jon?”

Grady nodded absently. “Sure. I… Hold it. The Federal Bureau of what now?”

“The Federal Bureau of Technology Control. We’ve been monitoring your work with great interest. Antigravity. Now that is a tremendous achievement. One might say a singular achievement. Likely the most important innovation of modern times. You have every reason to be proud.”

A male voice spoke just to his right, startling him. “Your water, Mr. Grady.”

Grady turned to see a humanoid robot standing next to him—a graceful creature with soft, rubber-coated fingers whose body was clad in a carapace of white plastic. Its face consisted only of beautiful tourmaline eyes glowing softly. Looking at him expectantly.

Grady glanced down to see a glass of water in its hand. “Uh…” He gingerly accepted the water and held it with increasing numbness.

Hedrick watched him closely. “You really should sit down, Jon. You don’t look well.”

Grady nodded and moved toward a chair in front of the great desk.

The machine stepped aside with the grace of a puma. “Be careful of the step, sir.”

“Thanks.” The moment he sat down Grady started gulping water, glancing around nervously.

Hedrick motioned for calm. “Slowly. I know it can be quite a shock. We would have applied a sedative, but it’s important you have full command of your faculties for this conversation.”

Grady finished the water and took deep breaths. “Where am I? What the hell’s happening?”

“You’ve just been through a traumatic experience, I know. It’s never pleasant, but neither is being born. And yet both are necessary to go on to greater things. And more importantly, it’s now over. And you’re here with us.”

Grady looked at his watch. The one he’d lost years ago. The numbers on its dial glowed in a familiar spectrum. It showed that no significant time had elapsed since the incident in his lab. A few minutes at most. “My old watch. I… What did I—”

“Time isn’t important, Jon.”

“This is Chicago. Two thousand miles from my lab. But… it’s daylight out.”

Hedrick nodded with concern. “Does that trouble you? Here…” He gestured with his hands, and what appeared to be a holographic control panel materialized in midair. He tapped several places, and the view outside the window changed to an uncannily real projection of New York City at night, looking uptown toward the Empire State Building. The interior office lights came on instantly to complete the illusion. “Is that better?”

Grady stared out the window uncomprehendingly. It was as real as reality. “What the hell is this place?”

“I told you, Jon. This is the Bureau of Technology Control—the BTC. We’re the federal agency charged with monitoring promising technologies, foreign and domestic; assessing their social, political, environmental, and economic impacts with the goal of preserving social order.”

“Preserving social order.”

“We regulate innovation. Because, in fact, humanity is far more technologically advanced than you know. It’s human nature that remains in the Dark Ages. The BTC is a safeguard against humanity’s worst impulses.”

Grady turned in his seat to see that the office doors had closed far behind him. The robot stood obediently nearby and nodded to him in acknowledgment.

Hedrick continued as he approached Grady from around the desk, “Mankind was on the moon in the 1960s, Jon. That was half a century ago. Nuclear power. The transistor. The laser. All existed even back then. Do you really think the pinnacle of innovation since that time is Facebook? In some ways, what the previous generation accomplished is more impressive than what we do now. They designed the Saturn V rocket with slide rules. That they could make it work at all. So many parts. So many points of failure. They were the great ones. We’re just standing on their shoulders.”

Grady turned forward again. “What does any of this have to do with me? Why am I here?”

“Manipulation of gravity. Hard to imagine you did it—and with so few resources. But have you really not considered the implications of your discovery?”

Grady just stared at him.

“Come walk with me.” He motioned for Grady to follow him as double doors to their left silently opened, revealing a carpeted corridor extending beyond.

“Where are we going?”

Hedrick smiled genially. “Everything is fine, Jon. More than fine. Everyone here is talking about you. We’re all excited. I’d like to show you something.”

“What?”

“The true course of history. I want to show you what human ingenuity has actually achieved.”

With one last glance back at the obsequious robot still nodding at him, Grady got to his feet and followed as Hedrick placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You should know that I’ve been in your position. Twenty-eight years ago. I know it’s not easy, but you’re a scientist, Jon. If it’s truth you’re after, there are wonders ahead…”

He ushered Grady into a long gallery lined with pedestals holding a series of displays—a museum by the looks of it. The closest pedestal held a sturdy-looking ceramic-and-glass construct from which a blinding white light shone. The device was the size of a washing machine. Holographic letters beneath it proclaimed:

First self-sustaining fusion reactor—May 6, 1985: Hedrick, Graham E.

Grady held his hands up to block the blinding light. “You can’t be serious…”

“I’m always serious.”

“Fusion. You perfected fusion.”

Hedrick nodded.

“Fusion energy?”

“I told you I’ve been where you are now.”

Grady looked back and forth between the reactor and its creator. Dumbfounded.

“I’m a plasma physicist by training. Toroidal magnetic confinement fusion devices were my specialty.”

“I…” Grady searched for words.

Hedrick nodded toward the reactor. “This is a later model. The first prototype was huge and output only a hundred megawatts. Even this one’s crude compared to what we have now.”

“But… 1985?”

“Certain innovations serve as catalysts for each other—creating a positive feedback cycle. Eventually a technology becomes inevitable. It’s managing the transition that’s critical. Fusion and quantum computing are good examples. Improved reactor designs were made possible by computer simulations of nonlinearly coupled phenomena in the core plasma, edge plasma, and wall regions of reactor prototypes. The vast energy from fusion made more powerful computers possible. And more powerful computers, better fusion reactor designs. They are symbiotic. Gravity modification will be another key symbiotic technology.”

Hedrick nudged Grady along to the next exhibit. “I wanted to show you this gallery because these are the advances that will one day transform human civilization.”

“And you’re keeping them secret? Even your own fusion work?”

“We prefer to think of it as safeguarding them. Preparing the world for the massive changes these innovations will bring about. A sudden influx of innovation could disrupt social order, and disruption of social order is not to be taken lightly, Jon.” Hedrick brought them to the next display. It was a holographic animation hovering in midair. It depicted living cells replicating in a petri dish. The plaque read:

Cure for Malignant Neoplasm—November 1998: Rowe, Rochelle, MD, et al

“Cancer? You cured cancer?”

“Doctor Rowe did, yes—or at least most forms of it. An elusive pocket on the surface of protein 53.” Hedrick nodded and ushered Grady onward.

“How the hell can you ethically conceal a cure for cancer? Do you realize how many millions of lives would be saved? How many tens of millions of lives?”

“The human population is still growing rapidly. Even with cancer.”

“What gives you the right to withhold this from people?”

Hedrick looked on patiently. “Jon, the BTC predates me. It was founded in the years before the moon landings—as the pace of technological change threatened to overwhelm our social and political institutions. The BTC grew out of a section of the Directorate of Science and Technology. It was formed to monitor research worldwide for disruptive technologies, to classify them, and to regulate their future release to the general public. We don’t have a perfect record—Steve Jobs was a tricky one—but we’ve managed to catch most of the big disruptors before they brought about uncontrolled change.” He gestured to the line of exhibits stretching before them. “As you can see.”

Grady let a disgusted laugh escape. “Who says technology was threatening to overwhelm our social and political institutions? The space program inspired kids to go into science.”

Hedrick nodded. “Yes, but how would humanity have coped with cures for most diseases? With limitless clean energy? With greater-than-human artificial intelligence? These would result in irreversible changes to society. Changes that we’re seeing even now, despite our best efforts at management.”

“I can’t believe you think this is ethical.”

“Relinquishing my own achievements with fusion was one of the hardest things I have ever done. But I made that sacrifice for the common good.”

Grady clenched his hands. “You have no right to decide the pace of technological change.”

“Now you sound like someone we both know.”

Grady recalled the face of the madman whose followers had so recently strapped him to a bomb.

Hedrick saw the realization in Grady’s eyes. “Yes, Richard Louis Cotton—the public face of the antitechnology movement. Every once in a while his Winnowers strike at some scientist or lab. It’s just a means of control, Jon. Cotton’s movement is an illusion. A method of misdirection. You are all quite alive, after all.”

Grady moved away from Hedrick warily. “Cotton works for you?”

Hedrick sighed. “Not for me—the BTC. I know it’s upsetting, but everyone is fine.”

“We’re not fine. Where’s Doctor Alcot? Where are Raj and Mike? I want to see them. Right now.”

“That’s not possible, Jon. They’ve already come to terms with the BTC. Until you join us, you can’t join them.”

“Join you? Why on earth would I join you? You’re abducting researchers and scientists. Concealing life-changing scientific breakthroughs. I’m not joining you.”

“We do what must be done. And even then only when truly disruptive innovation occurs and containment risks are high.”

“What ‘containment risks’?”

“Some technologies are too dangerous to be allowed to spread on their own. Left to chance, technologies like fusion and antigravity would sweep away existing social systems. They would change every society they touched.” Hedrick gestured to several more exhibits lining the corridor. “Shall we continue?”

“You’re going to add gravity modification to this museum of yours, aren’t you?”

“You should feel honored. I know I do. Very few innovations require complete isolation. Yours is one of them. Our models suggest that mastery of gravitation is what’s known as a keystone. When combined with other advances—like fusion—gravity manipulation will catapult humanity to a much higher technological level. In this case, moving us for the first time into a Type One civilization—a society capable of moving entire planets. Of building warp drives. Capturing the entire energy output from our star.”

“That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Your modesty is admirable, but your contribution stands alongside those of the greatest minds in history. Think of this: the notion of a ‘fictitious force’—Newton’s second law. In a closed box, an observer would not be able to distinguish between acceleration and the force of gravity. Einstein himself attributed the apparent acceleration of gravity to the curvature of space-time. Inertial mass and gravitational mass were not just equal—they were the same force. Yet, combined with our knowledge of extra dimensions, we might be able to use your work to disprove the equivalence principle at a high level of precision—and that’s just one of many possibilities. You’ve made an unprecedented breakthrough.”

“Extra dimensions?”

Hedrick ignored the question as he gestured again to the gallery. “Your gravity mirror belongs here, and you should feel honored—very honored indeed.”

“It isn’t an honor. I’d like to leave now, please.”

“We greatly admire your work, Jon. We want you to do what other researchers”—he motioned along the displays in the gallery—“like those whose work is represented here, have done. Join us. We want you to be part of the BTC family. To continue your research, but to continue it with access to technology you can only now imagine. We can open so many doors of inquiry to you. We can show you scientific wonders.”

Grady was still trying to process it all. He shook his head clear and walked farther along the gallery. At the next display he saw a hologram of cells, this time dividing and re-forming, as well as the image of a young person resembling an older person beside them. The plaque read:

Immortal DNA strand segregation—June 1986: Lee, Chao Park

He read the details. “My God…”

“Immortality is just one of the things we’ve accomplished, Jon.” Hedrick gestured down the gallery. “True artificial intelligence, quantum computing, miraculous metamaterials—and so much more. You can be part of it. You’ve earned a place among us.”

“Us?” He turned. “I want to speak with Doctor Alcot.”

“I’ve told you that’s not possible. Everyone must decide on his own—not because of what someone else decided.”

“How do I know he’s even alive?”

“Why would we harm him?”

“And why would you kidnap someone? Why would you conceal the cure for cancer? The achievement of fusion? I want to see my colleagues.”

Hedrick sighed. “You’re acting as if we’ve had no role in this. You do realize we’re the reason you received your funding? We’re the reason your research succeeded.”

Grady narrowed his eyes. “I was awarded a National Science—”

“You were awarded an NSF grant? How do you really know? And who was it that identified you from among all those candidates? From among the students in your online courses?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Very early on your mathematical solutions in online physics courses came to the attention of our AIs. You think very differently from others, Jon. Our AIs guided your path. They’re the ones who noted the unusual promise in the mathematics of your grant application. Please don’t act as if we’re intruding here. If it weren’t for us, your ideas would never have been realized. Think back on how you’ve been treated all your life. Professionally. Personally.”

Grady stared blankly at Hedrick.

“Yes, Jon. We know about your unusual way of seeing the world. But we’ve had faith in you all along, even when no one else did. You have a unique gift—a visionary way of interpreting the physical world. That’s what we search for. We’d like to learn from you. And unlike the public world, we have the ability to understand what you teach us.”

Grady stood numbly again, trying in vain to comprehend it all. His model of the known world was no longer valid.

That comforting hand on his shoulder again. Hedrick leaned close. “The ability to manipulate gravity will transform even our most advanced technologies. Instead of containing fusion reactions in a magnetic field, as with tokamak designs, we’ll be able to carry out fusion the same way stars do. We might gain a four hundred and fifty–to-one energy yield. And that’s just the beginning.”

Grady pondered this. “Not with a gravity mirror you won’t. You’d need a million times the mass of the Earth for that.”

“But that’s where you can help us, Jon. How do we create gravity—not simply reflect it? That’s the next goal. You mentioned to Professor Kulkarni that acceleration can be harnessed—redirected. That’s a promising line of research.”

“Kulkarni is one of yours, too?”

Hedrick ignored this question. “You and I both know gravity is the most powerful force in the universe. It can consume whole galaxies. Light itself. If we could create it from energy—imagine what constructs man might be capable of.”

They were walking again now, Hedrick guiding Grady to the end of the gallery and into another large office. Grady was lost in thought.

As they entered the new office, he looked up to see a young woman standing next to a conference table, along with an older, grizzled-looking man in his sixties. The guy had the demeanor and stance of an old soldier, and he wore a black uniform bearing an inscrutable rank and the BTC’s tree insignia. Grady did a double take on the woman. She was incredibly beautiful, fair complected, with short jet-black hair and lapis-lazuli-blue eyes. She wore a tailored pantsuit and crisp white blouse—normal business attire. But in fact, she was so attractive it was difficult for Grady to take his eyes off her, despite his absurd predicament.

Hedrick apparently noticed. He smiled and motioned toward the woman. “And what show-and-tell of our technology would be complete without an introduction to Alexa?”

The woman cocked her head to the side and frowned. “You always make me sound like a circus attraction.”

“Not at all.” Hedrick turned to Grady. “Alexa is one of our top bureau managers but also a biotech marvel. Her DNA includes proprietary genetic sequences developed decades ago by BTC scientists—sequences that give her longevity, intelligence, and perfect form. She is literally a product of BTC research. An experiment that led to great advances.”

Alexa sighed. “Are you finished, Graham?”

Hedrick nudged Grady. “How old do you think she is?”

Alexa rolled her eyes. “Graham, if we could just continue debriefing Mr. Grady.”

“How old, Jon? Guess.”

Grady couldn’t help but look her up and down. “I… Twenty-three.”

“Try forty-six. And that’s without gene therapy. It was her genomic sequence that led to the breakthrough in immortal DNA strand segregation and a cure for necrotic cascade back in the ’80s.” He looked admiringly at her. “What a magnificent creature.”

“I’m not a ‘creature,’ Graham.”

He laughed mildly. “Yes. Of course.”

The older man cleared his throat and spoke with weary irritation. “We’ve got a busy schedule, Mr. Director.”

“Yes, Mr. Morrison. You’re right. And as important as you are, Jon, we do need to get down to business.” Hedrick joined them at the table and offered a seat to Grady as the two BTC officials stood nearby. “We’d like you to join the BTC as a research scientist, Jon. You’ll have access to the best facilities on earth and nearly limitless funding. You’ll live more like a god than a mortal. And we can make your years long indeed.” Hedrick tapped at the glass surface of the table, and Grady’s gravity-reflection CAD plans appeared as ghostly 3D apparitions, rotating slowly in midair. “Gravity magnification—creating strong gravity fields derived purely from energy—that’s what we want your research to focus on. And you’ll have the most powerful biological and synthetic minds available to assist you.”

Grady shook his head. “I’m not joining anything. I want to see my colleagues.”

Hedrick grimaced. “Jon, we’ve been over this.”

“I have no desire to live ‘like a god’ while everyone else suffers.” He pointed to Alexa. “You’re creating a race apart when you should be sharing this technology with the world. What gives you the right to keep this all for yourselves? You have fusion, and you haven’t shared limitless clean energy with a starving world?”

Hedrick nodded slowly to himself, digesting this. But Alexa walked around the table, approaching Grady with a stern look on her lovely face. “A starving world?”

It occurred to Grady that her beauty might be more of a weapon than he thought—disarming him. But he managed to scrape together his wits as she approached.

“Do you know how many people died last year of starvation, Mr. Grady?”

“Not precisely, but I’d guess a lot.”

“The answer is just over one million. And do you know how many died of diseases associated with obesity?”

He shook his head.

She stopped just a couple of feet in front of him. “Well over three million.”

She was actually quite intimidating. Taller than she seemed and projecting a confidence that seemed unassailable.

“I’ve seen your type many times. You do realize that ‘limitless energy’ would cause the human population to increase by an order of magnitude.” She spoke over her shoulder at someone. “Varuna, bring up fusion scenario six.”

A disembodied voice spoke: “Of course, Alexa.”

Suddenly a crystal clear three-dimensional holographic projection of the Earth appeared above the conference table. It looked almost real—not translucent but solid. Cities of the world showed as glowing networks of light stretching down the coasts of most continents. The current year appeared in one corner. It was a startlingly realistic display.

Alexa stared at Grady. “Execute simulation.”

“Executing.”

The year started incrementing in one-second intervals as the Earth changed. Alexa narrated, without even looking at the image of Earth just behind her. “From the first decade cheap fusion energy appears, population levels and city densities increase. Within twenty years trillions of additional Btu have been pumped into the atmosphere. Although fossil fuel use drops sharply, abundant energy means industrial processes increase. Industrialized society drastically expands, along with manufacture of complex molecules and inorganic wastes. Human population continues to spike, with eight billion people living a modern consumer lifestyle by the year 2050…”

The simulation showed cities growing into several massive hundred-mile-wide hubs. Blinding conglomerations of light.

“With the added heat in the atmosphere, ocean levels rise. Deforestation occurs as climate fluctuates rapidly. Earth’s ecosystem becomes destabilized and most other species along with it—a vast food chain on which humanity depends for survival. Foundational species go extinct. Algal blooms cloud the oceans. Runaway greenhouse effect…”

Grady studied the very realistic animation as the atmosphere turned opaque. A runaway greenhouse effect began to swallow humanity—all within a century.

“The wealthy move to orbit. The rest of humanity perishes.”

Grady took a deep breath. “Okay. Well, I’d like to see the data behind this model.”

Alexa’s eyes bored into him. “It’s based on four hundred million petabytes of meteorological, sociological, and economic data. If I gave it to you, it would take you forty million years to read through it. So I hope you brought your eyeglasses.”

“Ah. Maybe a summary then.”

“Like I said: I’ve seen your type before, Mr. Grady. Scientists convinced their innovations are going to ‘save’ the human race. Did you ever stop to ask yourself what would happen if your antigravity technology were set loose upon the world? Do you realize the impact it would have on society?” Alexa again barked over her shoulder. “Varuna, load antigravity scenario three.”

“Yes, Alexa.”

The Earth reset, this time showing transportation routes of the world, along with the nations of the world as height maps for economic strength.

“Execute simulation.”

“Executing.”

“Jon Grady, the great innovator. The man who would give his knowledge to all humanity. How generous of you to share your brilliance with us all.”

Grady watched as complex transportation networks of ships, aircraft, and railroad networks disappeared in just a few years, dispersing into a vastly more complex network. Major transit hub cities fell into decline. National gross domestic product numbers lurched around, affected by the resulting economic chaos.

Alexa yet again narrated, apparently having committed this simulation to memory, too. “Transportation, travel, shipping, security, manufacturing—hundreds of industries worldwide drastically reshaped, some erased, overnight. The economic impact would devastate the livelihoods of hundreds of millions—every airport in the world, every airline, harbor, and railroad network, and all the industries dependent upon them suddenly obsolete. Border security. Personal security. Economic chaos—”

“Okay, I get it. But I think you’re painting a worst-case scenario.” He sighed wearily and looked to Hedrick. “I guess I hadn’t thought through the consequences of my work. But I still say you’re being pessimistic.”

Alexa folded her arms. “These models have successfully predicted much more than this.”

Grady considered this. “All right. Okay…”

Hedrick smiled warmly. “Then you’ll join us?”

Grady pondered it and finally nodded again. “Yes, I guess I am interested to see what other advances might speed my research along.”

“Mr. Grady is lying.” The voice came from the ceiling somewhere. It was the same disembodied voice that Alexa had spoken to.

Hedrick looked disappointed. “Thank you, Varuna.”

Alexa looked unsurprised.

Hedrick focused a less friendly gaze on Grady. “Jon, did you really think you could deceive us? There is no ‘lying’ to the BTC.”

Grady looked at the walls and ceiling. “Is that really an AI talking?”

“It’s our bureau interface, and never mind what it is—I’m concerned that Varuna says you’re being untruthful.”

Grady spoke to the ceiling and Hedrick both. “I’m not lying. Look, I want to have a chance to continue my work.” He gestured to the projection of the Earth. “It’s obvious that I haven’t the analytical power to assess the effects of gravity modification on society.”

“Mr. Grady, you are dissembling. Near-infrared readings of the activity in your occipital and frontal lobes demonstrate deceit-related latency.”

Alexa, Hedrick, and Morrison stared at him.

He shook his head. “This ‘Varuna’ thing is wrong.”

Alexa scowled. “Bigotry isn’t appreciated here, Mr. Grady.”

“In plain language, Mr. Grady: It takes humans longer to deceive than to tell the truth. When responding to external stimuli, humans require an average of eight hundred milliseconds to reach what’s termed ‘readiness potential’—meaning a decision. Approximately zero-point-zero-five seconds later a second surge of electrical activity implements that decision. Throughout your visit today, your brain required an average of six hundred six milliseconds to reach readiness potential. Your recent statements required almost twice that interval.”

Hedrick pointed to the ceiling. “We are primitive things, Jon. Our biological systems are well understood.”

Finally Grady took a deep breath. “All right. Okay. You win.” He looked to Alexa. “Spare me the sermon about how I’m egotistical. The BTC controls advanced technology. You’re putting yourselves in a position to technologically dominate humanity. That’s what this is about, and I don’t want any part of it. I’d rather burn my research than work for you.”

Alexa turned to Hedrick and Morrison. Hedrick nodded to her. “Thank you, Alexa. I appreciate you trying.”

She gave Grady one last look. “I consider it a personal failing that I was unable to convince you. Because, unlike you, I wasn’t lying. Those simulations have accurately predicted the spread of the Internet. Free markets. Drug-resistant bacteria. And much more you don’t know about.” Alexa started to walk away. “Sooner or later you’re going to realize we’re right, Mr. Grady. For everyone’s sake, I hope it’s sooner.” In a moment she slipped out through a side door, leaving Grady alone with Morrison and Hedrick.

The men regarded one another.

Hedrick shook his head sadly. “We have indeed seen your type before, Jon. The idealist. You call us megalomaniacal, and yet you’re the one not cooperating with others. As for ‘burning’ your work—we already have it. All of it. And I think you’ll find that the BTC has many smart people who can start where you left off. It’ll just take us a little longer without your peculiar mode of thought.”

“What you’re doing is criminal.”

“I know you believe that. You feel violated. But ask yourself whether it’s not your wounded pride that’s made you dislike us. With time, perhaps you’ll come to realize that the BTC is humanity’s greatest hope for an enduring future, and that we as individuals have no right to alter society to suit our personal visions.”

“You’re the one with a personal vision of society, not me.”

“It’s not personal at all. We’ve been given a legal mandate to protect society. National Security Council memorandums 10/2 of 1948 and number sixty-eight of 1950 empower us to deceive the public for the greater good. What’s known as the necessary lie.” Hedrick pressed his thumbprint to a digital document that had materialized on the tabletop in front of him. “And it’s for the greater good that I’m remanding you to our Hibernity facility.”

“Hibernity. What is that?”

“A safe place for brilliant people who nonetheless fail to see reason.”

“You mean a prison.”

Hedrick pursed his lips. “I suppose it is a prison. A humane prison designed to protect the public from dangerous ideas.”

Morrison let a crooked smile spread across his face. “I’ll take it from here, Mr. Hedrick.”

“Thank you, Mr. Morrison.”

Doors behind and to either side opened, and Grady turned to see a dozen swarthy, young, perfectly fit men enter in gray uniforms with inscrutable insignia at their shoulders. The men were identical in every way—with blond crew cuts, square jaws, thick necks, and broad shoulders, though not particularly handsome. They looked, in fact, exactly like a younger version of Mr. Morrison.

The realization dawned on Grady as the men approached calmly. “Oh my God…”

Morrison chuckled. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of me in the future, Mr. Grady… but then, so will everyone.”

Grady turned in all directions as the men surrounded him. They held up devices that looked no more threatening than a TV remote.

“My apologies about the use of physical force earlier, but we can’t use psychotronics in public; technology greater than level four seldom leaves the office. You’re going to feel very sleepy in a moment. Don’t fight it. Just lie down, or you’ll fall down.” Morrison nodded to his younger doppelgängers.

Several of the men aimed their devices and red laser dots found Grady’s scalp. Suddenly he was overcome with drowsiness.

“Sit down right there, Mr. Grady.” Morrison pointed.

Grady felt so sleepy he barely made it to the chair before he blacked out. By the time he came to again, there was a tight collar clamped around his neck—and more importantly he could no longer feel anything below his shoulders. He was suddenly paralyzed.

And yet he was still standing. And somehow breathing.

“What’s happening?”

Morrison was clicking through screens on a holographic display hovering above his wrist. “Nothing to worry about. A modest dose of microwaves to the diencephalons can synchronize your brain’s electrical activity to an external source. We just amplified the delta waves in your brain to put you to sleep.”

“I can’t feel my body!”

Morrison nodded as he continued tapping buttons. “Corticospinal collar. Overrides the signals your brain sends to the muscles. Let’s us send some signals of our own. And it beats having to carry you around.” He closed the virtual screen and focused his gaze on Grady. “You’re just a head on a pole now. So I’d start acting more courteous if I were you.” Morrison raised his hand toward Grady and made a gesture of walking with two fingers.

Grady’s body started walking away.

“Oh God!” It was a horrifying feeling—his body was suddenly lost to him. A traitor. Grady was helpless as his own body carried him off.

He craned his neck back behind him. “People will come looking for me, Mr. Hedrick! I have family. Colleagues. You can’t just make me disappear!”

Hedrick motioned for the guards to stop. Grady’s own body slowly turned around like a zombie to face the BTC director again. “But you’re not disappearing, Jon. Everyone knows where you are. Here…”

Hedrick waved his arms and high-definition video images filled the nearby walls. A wave of his hand split the imagery into a dozen live news feeds—a patchwork of overproduced disaster porn depicting a blazing industrial fire. The chyron at the foot of one screen declaring, “Scientists slain by antitech terror group.”

A reporter in one inset provided voice-over to an aerial image of Grady’s destroyed industrial lab: “In a video posted online, rabid antitechnology terrorists the Winnowers claimed responsibility for a bombing that left six researchers dead in Edison, New Jersey, overnight.”

In another video inset a male reporter on the scene intoned, “…fanatical religious group determined to ‘return mankind to the Iron Age’ has struck again—this time destroying a start-up semiconductor lab in…”

Another video inset showing an old photo of Grady and a black-and-white photo of a younger Alcot: “Among the dead: Chirality Labs cofounders Jonathan Grady and Bertrand Alcot as well as venture capitalists Albert Marrano and Sloan Johnson…”

Another video inset: “…the Winnowers have carried out half a dozen deadly bombings over a decade—at times waiting years between attacks…”

Grady watched in horror as images of rescue workers accompanied the newscaster’s narration. Gurneys bearing body bags from the scene. Corpse-sniffing dogs searching through ruins.

Hedrick focused on Grady. “Growing teeth, bones, and body parts from DNA is trivial to us. Your remains in the explosion will leave no doubt that you and your whole team are dead. You see, even if you had accepted a role among us, Jon, you were never going back. You can never live among normal people again. Your mind is just too dangerous.”