The Intruder (2 page)

"And since you have a clean bill of health, we can install the implant today and start you out with the basic audio function," Dr.
Berry
continued, taking a large, shiny, hand-held instrument from a drawer in the central table. "This is the basic communications implant," she said as she dropped a pea-sized ball into the steel instrument in her hand. "In Society, a child is fitted with this at the age of one."

Jeremy reflexively raised a hand, signaling her to slow down.

"Can I ask a few questions about the implant, doctor?" he asked.

"Absolutely," Dr.
Berry
said, lowering the threatening instrument into her lap. "What do you want to know?"

"These implants," he began, "they connect to my brain, right?"

"That's right."

"And there is some kind of interface that allows them to send thoughts into my brain, and it can read my thoughts too?"

"Not quite," the doctor explained. "They give you a kind of input, different from anything you've experienced. You don't feel like someone else is in your head with you, if you're worried about that. It's more like one of your senses -- like a second kind of hearing -- and when we turn on the visual functions, like a second kind of seeing."

Jeremy considered that for a moment. "But how do you know? You've had the implants since you were a child, haven't you?"

"Yes," she said, "but I've done most of my work with people who come in from the outside, or get the implants late in life for some reason, so I know what you can expect to experience."

"Is that why the Advocate recommended that I see you?" Jeremy asked.

"Possibly," she said. "I'm also a damned good doctor." She smiled, and Jeremy began to relax. Dr.
Berry
's confidence put him at ease.

"The chief reason he sent you to me is that there can be complications when you receive the implant as an adult. I've dealt with those cases before, so I can keep you out of trouble. But that's for me to worry about. Let me run you through the usual process and I think you'll understand," she continued. "You get the communications implant at age one. That's pretty much so your parents can call you for dinner. It's almost like a second ear and a second mouth. It allows you to send and receive audio messages over the hole."

"The 'hole' is Society's communications system?" he asked.

"Yes. Although 'hole' is somewhat of a slang term. It's also called the net, or the CR, for 'communications relay.'
Everything
is interconnected by land lines, electro-magnetic transmissions ... you name it."

Jeremy couldn't name anything. The concept was completely out of his depth. In the Community, only the doctor, the schools and a few engineers had computers, and they had no communications system with the outside world. He knew a little about them from his basic science education, but he was sure Society had things beyond his wildest guesses.

"You said, 'everything.' So, if somebody wanted to," Jeremy asked, "he could find out that I just cleaned my clothes in that launderer?"

"Conceptually, yes. When I said everything, I really meant it. At least all electronic devices. But there's not much need for a launderer to have complete access to the hole," she explained. "And maybe I should explain that. Getting an implant doesn't mean that everybody has access to you at all times. You can turn off the communications relay -- input, output or both -- and you can filter who can reach you. It's not only rude to send unsolicited messages, it's difficult to do, since most people set their implants to ignore them. And you don't have to answer calls, anyway. People can't find you or contact you unless you let them."

"The implant is installed in early childhood," she continued, "but it isn't activated right away. It takes time for a child to learn to use it, so it's turned on in stages. It's not completely turned on until puberty, or thereabouts.

"Until the visual implant is activated, kids learn how to use the hole through terminals, and when the visual functions are turned on they have very restricted use. Their hole communications are supervised by their parents so they can monitor what the kids are doing, and decide when to give them unrestricted access.

"You can see the implant desktop because of a connection with the optic nerve. It looks like a semi-transparent tablet floating in the air," she said, and Jeremy noticed that her eyes suddenly took on that faraway look he'd noticed in the others in the waiting room. She looked back in his direction with her right eye while her left eye wandered slightly. "By sending the right commands -- that's something you'll learn to do -- I can call up anything I want.

"Watch this," she said, and she smiled as her eye wiggled slightly. A moment later Dr. Jenkins' voice came over a speaker somewhere in the room.

"Yes, Dr.
Berry
?" he said.

"Dr. Jenkins," Dr.
Berry
said aloud, "would you please bring me a portable workstation?"

"Right away, doctor," came the reply.

Jeremy smiled and shook his head. "So you were able to call him without even saying a word? And did he hear your call, or see it on his visual display?"

"That's a perceptive question," Dr.
Berry
said. "I sent a pro forma 'call' to Dr. Jenkins. It said, 'call Dr.
Berry
on the intercom immediately.' That message traveled through the hole to Dr. Jenkins' address. How he retrieved the message would depend on how he had his relay set. It could have been on audio, on visual, or he could have been offline, in which case it would have gone into his mailbox, and it wouldn't have been a very impressive demonstration for you."

Jeremy was beginning to grasp the concepts, but he was certain there was much more to know.
What if there's another Dr. Jenkins?
he wondered.
How does the hole know which person to send the message to?
  As Jeremy was thinking, Dr. Jenkins entered the room with a dark gray object, about the size of one of the world atlases he used to study when he was a boy in school
, but as thin as a piece of cardboard
.

"Hi, Jeremy," he said. "How's it going?" 

"Just fine, doc," he replied. 

"Good," Dr. Jenkins replied. "Stop by and see me before you leave, okay?"

"Sure," Jeremy said, but he wondered what Dr. Jenkins wanted. The Advocate, who served as the intermediary and legal representative between the Community and Society -- both to make sure the Community was in compliance with all applicable laws, and to represent the Community's interests if they were threatened -- had warned Jeremy to be very cautious. Some of the people in Society might try to take advantage of him, he had said, and others might be unnaturally curious about people from the Community. "Remember the stories about country bumpkins buying the
Brooklyn
Bridge
," he had advised. "You're the country bumpkin."

Dr.
Berry
took the gray, book-shaped object from Dr. Jenkins and set it on the table, gesturing for Jeremy to stand next to her and observe. She was wearing a perfume with a very distinctive smell. It reminded him of something back home. Something his mother used to grow in the flower garden.

Dr.
Berry
swept her hand over the flat surface of the workstation and it immediately lit up with a colorful and very complicated display. In the exact center of the screen was a bright dot with the words "Berry Clinic" displayed in dark lettering. Flowing out from the dot in all directions, almost like a child's maze, were lines to other "sites" -- that's what Dr. Berry called them. Each site seemed to have a unique graphic element, and some of them had explanatory text, holographic images, or animations.

"You select a site by touching it," Dr.
Berry
explained, touching a graphic of a small green cube, which immediately moved to the center of the screen. The network of interconnecting lines and graphics adjusted instantaneously. "This line," she said, pointing to a white line that extended from the green cube to the Berry Clinic site, "traces your path, so you know where you've been."

He studied the screen carefully, and then asked, "So this is what you can see when you have your visual display on? A screen like this just floats in the air in front of you."

"Somewhat like this, although I have my implant set up differently. It is a visual display, like what you see here, with color and graphics, and, of course, with sound."

She reached for the side of the screen and touched a figure that looked like a human ear. A piano concerto began to play very softly. Dr.
Berry
touched a new graphic element and the display rearranged itself to place the new site at the center of the screen. A voice said,
You have entered the learning station.

Jeremy noted that the graphic at the center of the screen had the words "learning station" in bright orange letters.

"Now watch the upper left portion of the screen," Dr.
Berry
said. Jeremy looked at the dark corner, trying hard not to be distracted by all the other things on the screen. Suddenly a voice said,
you have one message
, and a bright red 1 flashed on and off.

"Touch the flashing number, Jeremy," she said.

When he did, the computer voice said,
voice or text mode?
and the display was overlaid with a white box, which contained two smaller boxes. In one was the word "voice," and in the other the word "text."

"You can answer by speaking, or by touching the right button," she said.

Jeremy touched the "voice" button and the computer said,
Message for workstation three. Doctor
Berry
wishes to see you immediately.

Jeremy looked away from the display and smiled at her. "Pretty neat."

She smiled and swept her hand over the display again, causing it to go dark.

"I'll make you a deal, Jeremy," she said. "You let me insert the communications implant, and I'll let you borrow this workstation for a while." 

"One last question first, please," he said.

Dr.
Berry
's smile faded a touch, and she looked disappointed. "Okay," she said, and her tone of voice said, "but only one."

"Show me how to turn it off before you put it in."

Her pleasant smile returned and she said, "of course," very softly. She grabbed the hand-held instrument, which reminded Jeremy of an air-powered nail gun, and opened a side compartment, showing Jeremy the pea-sized implant. It was to be implanted just behind his ear, under the skin. To turn it off or on, he needed only to push it with his finger.

"Can I ..." he began, but she interrupted.

"You have to be quiet. Your jaw moves when you talk," she said.

He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else while she put the medical instrument against his head. Jeremy felt a sudden, sharp pain, and then a warm, tingling sensation. He thought he might faint. Everything went black and his head began to swim, but then he recovered. Dr.
Berry
's hands were holding his head, and she was saying, slowly and gently, "it will pass, just be still. You'll be fine in a moment."

Jeremy closed his eyes and tried to sense any new sounds, or any change at all from a minute ago. Was this thing already connected to his brain? Should he hear something?

"It's not on yet," Dr.
Berry
said, as if she read his thought. She pushed very gently on the implant with her forefinger and he was suddenly distracted by a new sound.

You have one message from Doctor
Berry
,
a voice said. Or was it a voice? It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. He didn't hear it, but he didn't imagine it either. It wasn't the sound of a thought -- it wasn't that intimate, that much a part of him. It was from outside, in some sense, but inside his own head. 

"Has it connected itself to my brain that fast?" he asked.

"No. Some of the connections form almost instantaneously, but others will take a while to develop. The connections with the ear form very quickly, but you probably don't want to know the physiology of it."

Jeremy barely suppressed a shiver as he thought about it. He wasn't squeamish about blood, or operations, but he really didn't want to know about things inside his brain.

"So how do I get the message?" he asked.

"You have to train your implant to receive your own, unique signals," she said. "You're going to have to experiment with different mental images. One of them will trigger the implant. I can't tell you which one, because every brain is different. This training process is a big part of what forms the connections between your brain and the implant.

"Go ahead and try something," she said.

Jeremy tried to picture the old computer he used to see in Dr. Elizah's office back in the Community. He imagined reaching his hand into the computer and pulling out a piece of paper. He was surprised by a voice. The first voice was the computer's voice, which was followed by Dr.
Berry
's voice, but he wasn't "hearing" it. It was coming through his implant.