Authors: David F. Weisman
Swimming up the river of time as a mammal was hard. He longed to surface, to fill his lungs, to leave the watery womb. The burning in his chest grew intense, but to breach the surface was death. Then he reached the time before mammals and his metabolism was slower, he could hold his breath longer, but still not breathe under water. Amphibians were better off still, but eventually he became a fish which neither had nor needed lungs but breathed through gills.
His brain was smaller now, and he no longer remembered what he fled. The illusion of self burned away, he was no longer a being escaping an enemy, but
Being
headed remorselessly for the fount of life.
His melting brain was a remnant of its former self, his only claim to potential individuality. He could no longer grasp why that was to be feared, could only swim instinctively upstream.
After millions of years of life in reverse, the memory of Brettness was faded irretrievably. The little fish brain had no mind, and offered no resistance to dissolution. Even ‘he’ness was forgotten, as all single celled organisms could reproduce themselves as females.
Eyes had been left behind millions of years ago – yet there was light.
The tank lid opened
.
The sea receded – yet lungs and air breathing had been abandoned.
The water began to drain
.
He was reborn – but live birth had been left with mammalianism.
The tank was empty
.
He was he, yet individual consciousness had vanished with language near the beginning of the retrograde journey.
“You bastard! What the hell have you done to him?”
There was anger and fear in Ariel’s voice. Somehow time had come a full circle, and Brett was Brett again.
He heard Michael’s voice as well. “If he’s damaged, even psychologically, it may cost us the moral high ground. Public opinion is what will ultimately force the Federalist Worlds to back down.”
What was Michael doing here? The totaling facility was supposed to be confidential, and even Ariel shouldn’t have been able to find him. Had she noticed the irony of asking him to use his new political power this way?
The dominance relationships of primates were complex, but he found he could don his Brettness like a cloak. He pulled off the breathing mask. “I’m fine.”
His voice sounded normal to him, even familiar. If the words weren’t completely true, it wasn’t because something was wrong, but because Brett was not quite ready to call himself ‘I’ yet.
Napoleon leaned eagerly over the tank. “Did it help?”
Ariel spoke almost simultaneously, “Are you sure you’re alright? Can I help you up?”
Brett lifted his head and looked towards Ariel, using a smile to convey that he really was fine, and a headshake to convey that he didn’t want to be helped up just yet. His verbal answer was directed towards Napoleon. “I feel like a learned a secret that I could never put into words, one I can’t quite remember, but can never forget. I’ll have to try it and see, but I think I’m ready to get started now.”
Brett stood up and stretched his legs, arched his back. It felt as if he’d been sitting forever, though it had only been a few hours, and only a few days since his uncanny confrontation with the interior of his own mind. “How did I do? I don’t remember.”
Ariel laughed. “That’s the point of a privacy ring. You did great.”
Certain chemicals aided the formation of long term memory, and others inhibited it. Several people could monitor each other and make sure that no personal memories were retained from a client using accelerated learning techniques. Helping people learn new skills sometimes required intense interaction with an individual brain, as did large scale collaborations.
As Brett continued to stretch, Ariel stood up. “You want to go for a walk?”
Brett protested, “It’s dark outside.”
“You afraid of the dark? Poor baby.”
“It’s the middle of winter.”
“You brought your coat. For a tough guy you sure are fragile.”
Sighing, Brett shrugged on his coat. He switched on the heating element even before they left the house.
Ariel only dragged him a few blocks. The all-night diner they entered was blindingly white, except for some pink roses painted on the wall. Ariel ordered coffee for both of them without consulting Brett, though he could have added something had he chosen.
There were a few moments of quiet before she spoke again. “Kenny and Katrina want us to go to a grottleball game with them.”
“At some kind of indoor sports arena?”
“No, they’ll be playing a little south of Ulayn.”
The weather would be warm there. For a few minutes Brett contemplated the prospect. He didn’t know how Ariel planned for them to travel, but he recalled her measuring the efficiency of travel in units of pleasure per mile.
He shook his head regretfully. “This probably wouldn’t be a good time for me to take a break. Something’s going to happen soon, one way or another.”
The waitress placed coffee on the table in front of them. Ariel added a little milk and sugar to hers, then took a sip before speaking. “Brett, what happens isn’t going to be that Oceania finally comes to understand your perception of the Space Force’s determination. That’s already happened. Some people think you’re mistaken, and others think we should prepare for war, but very few think we can or should offer more concessions.”
Brett held on to his reflexive reply. He wasn’t as convinced of the rightness of his cause as he had been, and he never argued politics with Ariel. Before he could try and change the subject, she struck off in an unexpected direction.
“Brett, I love you. I want you to stay here with me forever. Please defect and become an Oceanian citizen.”
Brett stared into her eyes, for the first time dismayed by the depths in them. To tell her he loved her also seemed too cruel, though it was the truth.
“If there’s any chance of avoiding war, that isn’t it. That would be the ultimate proof I’d been taken over by the overmind, wouldn’t it?”
Her face flushed angrily, and there was a sudden bite to her voice. “Is that what you think?”
Brett shook his head tiredly. “No it isn’t. I’m proud of the Space Force, and I’ve studied their history, and even now this is the only major action in the last hundred years I don’t feel proud of. You wouldn’t have cared for the boy I was before the Space Force got hold of me. Even so, I’d give it all up to be with you if I could.”
Brett could see she was holding back tears, on the border between rage and despair. “So instead you’ll go back to what? Do you have a – a family? I’m sure the Federalist Worlds will be very grateful for your self sacrifice!”
Brett suspected she had been about to ask if he had a wife at home. The question was absurd, since it was not unusual for ships in the Space Force to be away from home for a decade.
He had nothing to hide from her. “I don’t have any family. As for my homeworld and the Federalist Worlds, in public perhaps they will. In private I’ll never be trusted, not just as an officer, but as a citizen. I’ll be lucky if I’m watched by intelligence services instead of locked up for ‘my own protection.’”
For a second Brett wondered if she would hate him now, as much as she had loved him before. Instead she squeezed his hand. “But you still feel you have to go? Oh Brett, I’m sorry.”
They were quiet for awhile. Eventually Ariel bought more coffee. Brett didn’t, but the place was almost empty, so nobody bothered them.
Eventually Ariel broke the silence. “Brett. Maybe my being your teacher while I’m involved with you is a lousy idea, but it’s too late to worry about that now. You’ve absorbed a lot, and I want you to talk about it. Your brain assimilates some things better by putting them into words.”
Brett gave himself a few moments to adjust to the lower emotional temperature. Another customer entered the far end of the diner, but Brett still couldn’t see how it paid for them to stay open at this hour.
Some of his experiences could be discussed only by analogy. Brett had come to think of calling Oceania a ‘collaborative system’ as an analogy. Instead of trying to describe his experiences as a whole, he pulled out a piece almost ready to put into words and shaped it a little more.
He began, “I wasn’t exactly in a dojo. There were a number of practice areas, with some supervision. These were surrounded by tables where people ate and drank and talked and watched. It was a trendy hangout for people in their late teens and early twenties.”
Ariel asked him, “What language did they speak?”
Brett started to reply ‘English,’ and then reconsidered. “This isn’t a real memory, is it? Just some sort of aide for me to convey judo skills to a client.”
Ariel smiled. “You got it. Go on.”
“I was this kid, who might have been named Todd or Ted or something. My thoughts felt funny inside of his spoiled and undisciplined mind. All the fat slowed us down, and threw our balance off as well.
“This wasn’t the first time I – he really, but I was him by then – had paid for martial arts skills. I’d never had to work for the money. They’d done no good. Knowing moves didn’t help someone who hated to practice and exercise, who got tired and bored easily. I rarely pushed myself to the point where it began to hurt.
Today was the first time I realized Sammy, the guy with me, wasn’t really a friend. I wanted to learn something else. I wanted to know what it felt like not to be in awe of someone just a bit less lazy than myself, not to be always afraid – or at least not care so much.”
When Brett stopped speaking, the silence momentarily startled him, along with the knowledge of where he was. Then he said, “It’s not that easy, surely? Nobody would agree to overwrite his brain?”
A moment later he flushed. He knew the technology couldn’t and didn’t work that way. Ethics aside, nobody understood the brain that well, and you had to learn to work the technology at least as much as it learned to work with you.
And … Brett sort of remembered. “He could learn how someone else might think and react. He could choose to act differently, and imagine feeling differently, and try to become another person. It might be just barely easier than doing the same thing without nanotechnology.”
Ariel smiled. “I used to know a woman who rarely wore makeup and was very shy. So self conscious she didn’t even like interacting with people face to face. Not ugly really, just sort of mousy. She trained as a Neuron, and loved interactions where brains could show their mettle without mediocre bodies getting in the way. Little by little she learned there was nothing wrong with her body. It took the guise of her own habits and expectations. The knowledge she wanted consisted of more than a skill or set of skills, but she knew how to do that kind of learning, and had friends linked up. She learned new ways of walking, or dressing, of talking, of smiling and looking at people. Even how to dance.
“The difference was dramatic. Some men were too shy to talk to her at parties, but the ones who weren’t would not have noticed her before. She was pretty pleased with the end result, but I’m not sure what you would think if you met her. Did a collective somehow leach away part of her soul?”
The subject of her story was obviously Ariel herself. Indignant at being constantly tested, Brett raised his eyebrows and replied innocently, “Was it worth it? Did she end up prettier than you?”
She leaned across the table and gave his shoulder an open handed punch.
Brett shook his head sadly. “Beating your students? I thought that went out with the dark ages.”
He paused a moment, let the mood grow serious once again. “This is fascinating stuff, but after coming so far I’m starting to wonder what it feels like to be part of a unified consciousness.”
Ariel smiled at him. “You’re getting there. The day after tomorrow will be your first full four hour session, and your first time as part of a large scale project. Don’t worry, I’ll be with you.”
He replied, “Uhmm, you’ve been with me almost all the time I’ve been learning, and I appreciate it. So I take it you’ve been taking time off from the stuff you usually do?”
She shook her head. “I can’t, really. You of all people know, this is a critical time right now.”
Alarm bells were going off. “How many hours have you totaled the week? Spoken with Muriel lately?”
Ariel squeezed his fingers, which had been about to pick up a coffee cup. “You’re sweet to worry, but she couldn’t stop me even if I did. Neither can you. This is my job. Promise you won’t worry her, since it won’t help?”
The hell he couldn’t stop her – at least from working with him so much. He said aloud, “I promise.”
That promise he would keep, since that wasn’t his plan anyhow.
Ariel had sounded concerned when Brett told her he had an upset stomach. He’d had to talk her out of visiting, without seeming in a hurry to go anywhere, which had cost him some time. So now he had about five minutes.
A shame he couldn’t share today with her, but he felt pretty sure she was spending too much time with the hive mind. He damned well wouldn’t become another Michael, letting her make herself sick again trying to make his first experience with the full supermind easier.