Grantville Gazette, Volume 40 (40 page)

"What about the maths?"

"I ain't sure yet. Some stuff that I didn't know I knew came back with that limit business, and now derivatives is making sense. I think I like it, and it makes the physics go better."

"Very good, Guido, which book would you like to discuss first this afternoon?"

"Uh, well, none of them, Doc." Guido swallows like his collar just tightened. "I got another week working part-time for Big Willy. Meanwhile, I've been taking it easy on your nephew, ya know.

"You didn't tell him I made some back payments to get his education restored?"

"Naw. I wouldn't do that after you asked me not to. But it's a couple of weeks to Christmas, and I'd like to finish that business before I leave Big Willy. Ya know, tie up loose ends so's nobody don't get hurt."

"I'm afraid Maurice squandered our efforts. He's accumulated more gambling debts on top of what he already owes. Not that it matters. He is clueless on how to use the information in that canned education. I don't think he has the will power nor the ambition to structure it so that the knowledge becomes meaningful to him. I've given him too much. My father always said 'Make a chicken scratch for dinner if you want to keep him healthy.'"

"Uh huh. Healthy chickens. Well, I only handle the loan collections, and he's behind on his payments again. Big Willy insists that me and Juan foreclose. I thought maybe you could talk with him, get him to cooperate, ya know? Maybe we could repossess his education without having to hurt him."

"I appreciate your kindness, Guido. I know it's not good for Mo, but I feel guilty not bailing him out. He's the only child of my younger sister."

"Guilt. Dr. S.? I wish I had an uncle like you. I'll never forget this chance you's giving me. First tutoring me, and now that scholarship for the spring . . . that'll be a big help for me and Marilyn. I don't know what you gets out of all this."

"You mean what's my motive? Well, I could tell you that every teacher yearns for a student whose desire to learn exceeds expectations rather than a pupil who want facts dumped into their brain. Or maybe, an old fossil like me hopes some young stalwart will pick up his torch and carry it further. Pretty outdated motives amidst the sterile harvest of embedded education."

"Those are metaphors, right? I don't think I get 'em."

"They are metaphors that simply mean 'you're welcome, Guido.' Working with you is a pleasure and small penance for my sins. Unfortunately, I'm the dimwit whose basic research made embedded education possible. At first I thought I had done something good, that people would have the energy and determination to remold the raw information loaded into their brain into a usable knowledge structure, but most recipients turn passive and let the information decay along with their thought processes. I've had a long life and some success, but enabling educational implants is my biggest regret. . . . I'm sorry, I'm exhausted. Could you help me get home?"

"Sure, Prof, and I'll delay my associate Juan from foreclosing, at least until you gets a chance to talk with your nephew, maybe convince him to cooperate."

****

Jennings cringes in the corner of the room. Juan stalks the dweeb, playing on his fears. Guido quickly unpacks the education extractor from its case. He knows that Juan prefers to use a baseball bat to repossess Jennings's education.

"Calm down, Juan," Guido sets up the extraction cap and extends his hands palms down. "He ain't going nowhere. Big Willy won't like it if we don't get a clean extraction. A doctorate in chemistry is worth a lot of money on the second-hand market."

"Oh yeah?" Juan slaps the bat against his palm. "I'm running the show, now, Guido. You ain't Big Willy's favorite no more."

"Maybe not, but Big Willy likes eighty big ones better than he likes either of us." Guido points at Jennings, but he doesn't look away from Juan. "We collect the collateral, nobody gets hurt so long as they cooperate—all legal-like and above-board process so's we don't attract no extra attention from the Feds."

"Puta. You gone soft, hombre." Juan stalks off. "Okay, do it your own damn way."

****

After extracting the chemistry degree, Guido escorts Jennings to his uncle's house as Shimano requested. Jennings looks pale and drawn, but otherwise unharmed by the loss of his doctorate. Amidst a light dusting of snow, they stop outside the old Prof's door.

"You feeling okay?" Guido attempts to straighten Jennings's collar and brush some snow off the shoulder of his jacket. "Look, I'm sorry about all this, but at least you didn't get beat-up. Your uncle's been good to me, so I done what I could for you."

"Get out of my way." Jennings tries to shove past Guido, reconsiders when Guido doesn't budge, and goes around. He pounds on Shimano's Door. "Uncle Dave. Let me in."

"Come in, Mo." The door opens, but no one waits inside. "You too, Guido. I'm in the basement lab." The disembodied voice is weak and difficult to understand, but Guido recognizes it as Shimano's.

Jennings rushes in. Guido adjust his tie and business collar and follows.

Shimano waits downstairs. He sits in a wheel chair in the shadows. A tangle of computational machinery covers the opposite wall.

"This goon . . ." Jennings points at Guido.

Shimano raises his hand. His voice is weak. "Please. I haven't much time. I've decided to execute part of my will myself. Afterward, the probate paperwork will be a simple formality. There's a helmet for each of you. Please put them on."

Guido shrugs and puts on the indicated helmet. The jury-rigged machinery reminds him of an educational implant and extraction cap, but is far more complicated. Jennings snarls and starts another tirade. Guido grabs the twerp's arm and offers him the remaining helmet. "Your uncle wants you should wear this. I want that you should listen."

"Thank you, Guido." Shimano tries to maneuver his wheelchair, but hasn't the strength. Guido takes the chair handles and steers him towards the equipment. Once they reach the console, Shimano attempts to operate the controls, but he lacks the energy. He sighs and settles into his chair.

"Every man hopes to leave a legacy, some part of themselves for the future. Mo, you are my last living relative. Guido, you are my last student."

Guido releases the chair and pats the old man's shoulder.

"I've a gift for each of you." Shimano smiles. "I hope you'll both be pleased. Guido, take a seat at the left console. Mo, you sit at the other . . . Don't argue with me. My research in embedded education made me very wealthy, Mo, and I know you don't want to see all that money go to charity."

Jennings curls his lip and sits at the indicated monitor. Guido glares at Jennings. He nudges the old man nearer the console, then takes the chair next to him.

"I'm sorry for my weakness." Shimano's voice fades to a whisper. "We must hurry. Guido, select the green icon followed by the download one button. Then choose the red icon and download two."

The control screen displays seven icons. Guido hesitates. "I'm sorry, Prof, which one is green?"

Shimano smiles. He closes his eyes. His lips move feebly, and his head droops. An alarm beeps from the wheelchair's medical status display. The old man's pulse is erratic and his blood pressure spikes, but he is still alive.

Guido reaches for Shimano's hand. "We need to call medical assistance."

"His chair has already called the medics, you stupid man. Select the icons. Never mind I'll do it." Jennings leans towards the console and presses the touch screen.

Both screens clear, and two narrow bars measure the download progress. Shimano's image appears at the upper corner of each screen.

The image speaks. "Mo, Guido. I've used most of my assets to create scholarships for non-embedded education, and yes, Guido, that includes your scholarship. And you, Mo, may have one too if you want it. What remains includes my house, which goes to Mo. I also leave a personal lifetime trust and a recorded partial engram of my knowledge base. You may each choose one of these two items as my final gift to you. The knowledge engram is my final experiment with embedded education. Usually, embedded education transfers raw data directly from e-books to the subject's brain. My knowledge engram is my only attempt to copy the knowledge structure from one brain for direct transfer to another. Except for what he's shared with others, a man's knowledge, all that he's learned, all that he's built dies with him, and so my recorded engram will be destroyed after you've made your choices. As for the lifetime trust, in my opinion, it provides generous support for one person with modest needs."

Guido can't focus on the video image's words. He's concerned about the real Shimano. The old professor is still unconscious, but the monitor indicates better stability. Guido takes a deep breath and wonders what's delaying the emergency medics.

The on-screen Shimano continues. "Each of you may choose one of these gifts. Make your selection on your own touch screen. You'll also be able to see what the other person chooses. However, all my instructions will be verbal."

Two button icons appear on Guido's screen.

"Press an icon once to select, and a second time to deselect." The virtual Shimano smiles. "Choose the red button to share in my memory engram. Choose the green button to share in the lifetime trust."

Red or green? Guido can't tell them apart. As if he were in a race, Jennings immediately selects the icon on the right side of his screen.

Shimano continues his explanation. "You have two minutes to decide, and you can change your mind as often as you like until the time limit expires. The trust will be assigned and destructive download of the engram will happen immediately after time expires. If you both choose the same gift, then that gift will be split equally between the two of you. "

Jennings's head snaps towards Guido as if he dares him to select the same icon. Clearly, he doesn't want to share. Guido extends his hand towards the screen, and then he hesitates. He glances at the real Shimano, who seems to be resting comfortably. Where are the medics? What can he do but follow the Prof's instructions? He looks to the virtual professor for additional clues.

Almost on cue, the screen Shimano offers help. "Guido, I know that you can't distinguish red from green, but that's an advantage in some situations. A color-blind person may see past camouflage. Mo has his own blind spots."

"You old fool," Jennings mutters.

Guido contemplates slapping Jennings silly.

The screen clock shows one minute remains. Guido runs his fingers across his mouth. Jennings picked the right icon, so obviously that was the green button for the trust. The icon on the left must be the red button for the embedded education. Which to choose?

Marilyn would appreciate a steady source of income, but they would share half with Jennings. Guido could earn a good living with Shimano's knowledge embedded in his skull. What could be better than organized facts straight from Shimano's own brain?

Guido wrinkles his forehead. Which would Marilyn want? The green button for half the trust money or the red button where valuable knowledge would be his alone?

An ambulance siren grows louder outside.

The clock ticks down. What would the Prof advise? Red or green?

Guido unwrinkles his forehead. Of course. Camouflage. With a determined smile, he makes his choice and then watches the last seconds tick away.

****

"Where have you been?" Marilyn waits just inside the door. A threatening storm flickers on and off her brow. "I've been worried sick, what with the Feds arresting Big Willy for racketeering. I thought they arrested you too, or worse . . . Guido, honey, are you okay?"

"I'm good, but a beer wouldn't hurt none." Guido plops into his favorite chair while Marilyn scurries to the refrigerator. "I should've called. I was at the hospital with the Prof."

"Dr. Shimano?" Marilyn returns with an open can and hands it to Guido. "Is he ill?"

"He died an hour ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Marilyn hugs Guido neck and sits on the arm of the chair. "I know you liked him."

"The old guy had a good run, a full life, ya know." Guido takes a sip of beer. "He gave me something—a legacy, he called it—maybe even better than the scholarship he got me."

"What was it?"

"Get comfortable, 'cause this is gonna take time to explain. I had to chose. I hope you won't be mad at what I picked. Here's what happened."

Still sitting on the arm of the chair, Marilyn clasps his hand to her lap and listens while Guido explains.. The sincere concern on her face is a constant distraction from him telling the story. He wants to sweep her up, to carry her . . . but no, that has to wait until she understands his choices between red or green, between colors he can't distinguish and equally confusing gifts. He pauses after describing how quickly Jennings's chose the trust fund.

"So then, it's up to me." He hesitates. "Which do you think I should have done? What would make you happy?"

"What would make me happy?" A tear glitters in her eye. "The fact that you worried about making me happy makes me happy, you big ape. I trust you to choose what's best for us."

"I didn't want the green dough for the same reason I didn't want Big Willy's loan—I make my own way. I didn't want the red herring because I want to build my own knowledge like the Prof taught me. The old guy was testing me, that's why he hid the third choice, my choice. I picked
none of the above
."

"So you took nothing?"

"I took his best stuff. Not waiting on somebody else's dough like Jennings does. Not pumping stuff straight into my brain from ebooks—I'd rather read them myself, have a chance to think about 'em, ya know. The Prof gave me confidence. I don't have to be stuck with just the choices what the other guy gives me. So's now I'll build my own learning—not take what's easy. That way, I ain't just renting my education, I own it. What d'ya think? I done good, huh?"

Marilyn kisses his cheek. "I'm so proud of you."

****