Friday, 27 May 2011
So anyway, end of phase 1.
This wraps up the first few months of the blog. I wrote some stuff about technology so I thought I would finish by digging up some short stories I wrote a while back (several years back actually). Despite my optimism about technology in general, two of the included works are pretty grim. I guess that makes me a hypocrite. Anyway, I will keep posting as I come up with new content and see where this goes. There will of course be substantial changes made as I improve the look and feel of the site and find a way to present the information better. Anyway, enjoy my tales and essays and see you soon.
The Cthonic Manifesto
He waited for Eva at one of the public eateries in the spacious observation platform. It was composed of interlocking curved vertical and horizontal plates of that ubiquitous silicate/carbon polymer. It was a rough material reminding Edward of slate but with little sparkling flecks. Micro-diamonds he was told, as this was of relatively coarse manufacture pieces of crystalline carbon formed in the cooling process. Despite these imperfections the material was incredibly strong, far superior to steel and much stronger. Better composite materials had been developed in the U.S. and Japan but the Russian / South Asian consortiums had developed a much faster production process and in the race to develop new technologies more output meant more revenue for continued research and development. While the U.S. corporations had the advantage of greater capital resources through domination of the Global N.G.Os and unlimited access to government subsidies, popular suspicion of those organisations meant more consumers (including some rogue U.S. corporations) were buying and investing in Cthonic ventures.
Here alone there were over three hundred manufacturing companies ranging from light engineering to world class aerospace design and fabrication: electric cars with performances equal to the best high octane sports models, automated anti-grav lifters for heavy construction, components for deep space exploration projects, games consoles, furniture, composite materials. In short, each chthonic city self contained and self sufficient. In thirty years one Irish entrepreneur starting with almost no start-up capital had created a civilian aerospace company whose presence in the marketplace equalled any of the nation states flagship aircraft manufacturer. There was no major air carrier in the world without their supersonic passenger craft in operation. As the Cthonics influence grew in the global markets the U.S. fell further behind. The E.U., the first global bloc to take advantage of the new economies had already exceeded the United States GNP.
So Morris sat beneath the moulded diamond bubble and looked out over the new phases of the city under construction. He looked grim to the strangers who passed him by. He looked grim and carried the dangerous air of important men about him. He busied himself with his tablet taking care not to appear like some gawping tourist. He settled into his work. He donned his reading glasses and read through some administration documents he was due to sign off. They concerned energy supply logistics for the eastern sea board. Government approved soft fusion licensing schemes covered many rural and super corporate areas but problems had been encountered in urban regions. Black market generators were entering the states via Mexico and Canada. Stiff penalties had so far ceased to deter thousands who had installed then in their homes and businesses. Morris was an advisor to several legislative committees and through his own research company had provided many solutions to government and associated interests searching for reliable means to detect the illegal use of new technologies. The key issue, his main concern was developing a licensed network of urban generators that would provide safe revenues to state sanctioned corporations. He stopped his reading.
All around him people were talking, children were running around noisy and under the most lax of supervision. At observation decks above and below people were sometimes cheering as a particularly large cargo transporter made another successful launch. Morris really needed a secure executive suite for this kind of work but had to settle for this barely adequate public business enclosure. Given the populist nature of the Cthonic centres anything associated with elitism or corporate activity was held in disdain. He had been offered access to the corporate suites but for this visit he needed to remain in the public access areas. Contacts informed him the corporate suites though offering private access to information were routinely monitored by private justice groups keen to ensnare another careless entrepreneur. Fortunately he was an honest man and he brought nothing of value to social vigilantes.
The disposable com unit, issued as part of the junket goodies bag, vibrated on the table. He checked the screen to check the sender’s details and saw that it was Eva placing the call. He answered on the fifth ring.
“ Eva Stanton?”
“ Yes. Is that you Edward?” He paused before answering. It had been a long time since he had spoken to his ex-wife and it was critical that he took control of the encounter.
“ It sure is.“ He said letting something of a smile into his tone of voice. “ It’s been a long time.”
“ Over twenty years Ed.” It was remarkable, he thought, how much people could give away about themselves with so few words. Her words gushed through the phone, vibrant and without guile. Memories long buried rushed to the surface and he was surprised by their intensity. He was a very different man now and it was a moment before he regained his composure. He had been careful so far and these critical moments would determine his success.
“ I guess you’re surprised to hear from me.” Before she spoke a suppressed gasp told him her reaction was near incredulous.
“ Yes, I certainly am. I knew you were here for the trade and regulation conferences but I’m surprised you even knew I was here. What do you want Edward?”
“ I’m looking for information. I’m part of the primary review panel dealing with the international license and patenting agreements. I’m working in your area Eva, advanced modification of cereal crops for commercial markets.” The bait was set.
“ All the information you need is in the public domain Edward, I don’t see how I can add anything new to the discussion. I’m an executive associate, I don’t set policy.”
“ Eva, I’m not interested in policy. All I’m hearing are horror stories about the consequences of contaminated ecosystems-“ Eva interrupted him.
“ Whatever you’re hearing is just scare-mongering. Our species are designed for growth in specific hermetic environments, they’re incapable of propagating in natural environments.”
“ What about the studies carried out in Kansas last year?”
“ Those were a different range of specimens. They were tested in exposed areas, and designed for a different set of conditions.”
“ But some of your work was among the test group”
“ No they were not. We submitted some samples but they were subsequently re-engineered before testing began. Whatever results those tests produced were false. The plants tested were not our original designs. “
“ So you said in the official protest you filed, but isn’t it possible you were in error?”
“Believe what you want Edward,” her voice was subdued, sad for a moment. “ if you want to discuss my work on the public genome projects you are more than welcome but I don’t have time to waste on politics.”
Morris listened to her carefully; she was offended at such obvious barbs to her integrity. He had always recognised her talents in the sciences, now he had to take advantage of weaknesses. He let the moment drag on keeping her off guard and taking the upper hand in the dialogue.
“ I’m sorry if I caught you at a bad time Eva. I’m sure these negotiations must be putting you under a lot of pressure. I would like to see your work. You know how much I admire the craft of honest science. “
before she spoke there was a barely audible snort over the line.
“ If only you practised it yourself!”
“ Eva, “ and this time there was steel in his voice.” I will be casting a vote on this issue. Can’t you give me the information I need to make the right decision? You know the reports distributed through congress and the economic forums were edited to cast your work in an unfavourable light. You’re not the only one who wants to see progress made in these negotiations.” He said those words quickly, a deliberate echo of the unguarded words Eva first said to him.
“ Can you persuade opposition members to vote in our favour?” Eva had never mastered politics, a question so blunt was proof of that. It was exactly what he wanted her to say.
“ Not the core opposition groups.”
“ What about the client states and corporate affiliates?” He had to bide his time here. The congress security commission knew some activists were beginning to weaken opposition in the more liberal states. If Eva had any contact with them and he could find out who they were, it would bolster any act designed to keep them in check.
“ Brazil, the sub Saharan states, I’d say they are going to go with the chthonic proposals.”
“ I know that Ed, ” This time perhaps without realising it she called him by the more familiar name. He could tell her guard was up, she knew something and had no intention of giving it up without something in return.
“ I’m due to report to the commonwealth authority later today, if we can meet up and discuss a few issues I think I can get you a meeting with the senior negotiation team. A chance to secure their vote would be a great opportunity.”
“ Yes it would.”
Morris was caught off guard. Her voice had not come through the phone but from her own mouth. He turned, and there she was, close enough to touch.
A moments panic kept Edward in his seat. He wondered what to expect. The eatery he occupied remained the same. None of its occupants, customers or staff were behaving suspiciously. He caught the eye of a middle aged Asian woman. He tried to glean some clue, a sign to indicate what waited behind him. There was no fear, as one might expect if a gang of security operatives accompanied Eva. All he saw was idle curiosity. The woman looked away with a knowing smile to whomever stood behind him, revealing nothing. All of Morris profession and success depended on the ability to read people, from the merest flicker of expression and the deeper motives that drove them. He was angry, he had been caught off guard. It was time to assess the situation and think quickly. He stood first before turning. With a breath he released tension. He smiled. He assumed an expression of rueful sportsmanlike defeat. This point he conceded to Eva.
“ Good to see you again Edward.”
“ And you Eva” He held out his hand and she took it. Her grip was firm, the contact brief. Morris felt like a fool. He had studied her files, seen the recent photos but the one thing he should have remembered, the one memory he had buried was her effect on him.
She was not alone, a gaggle of young attendants followed her. Some talked among themselves as they watched Edward and Eva.
“ I hoped to see you at your labs. You want to talk here?”
“ No, I was meeting my friends here when you called “
“ You could have told me you were nearby “ He forced a smile, but he doubted his eyes would conceal his displeasure at being caught unawares.
“ I’m sorry Edward, I couldn’t resist. I hope you don’t mind us having some fun at your expense.” She must know how important these issues were and yet she risked everything so she and a few fresh-faced accomplices could share a joke.
Eva turned to her accomplices. They were dressed like her in simple functional clothes the colours and styles denoting to all who were familiar with Foundation policies their profession. There were no obvious marks of rank as hierarchies were frowned upon, from the beginning the foundations were careful to avoid any resemblance to military structures. Morris observed however subtle clues which indicated much. The security branches commanded much respect and were for the most part composed of disillusioned ex military types. By virtue of their putative defection to the chthonic cause they were deeply committed to its defence, as is often the case with converts. They took responsibility for co-ordinating the many civil investigations into corporate crime. The rest of Eva’s companions were dressed in pale cyan and green, information science and biology. Eva wore green with a pronounced white piping; science admin.
It was obvious from the deference to Eva that many were her direct subordinates. Eva whispered something to the young security man beside her. He nodded and took his leave with the rest following.
When they had met in college he was fresh from his graduate studies and completing his MBA. Her beauty attracted him, her knowledge and sharp wit had challenged him. Four years was brief when compared to his twenty seven years of married life, but Eva had been his grand passion and he resented her for it.
She had changed. He remembered her as bright, an excellent scientist. Her failing was her politics, full of sympathy for the less fortunate and unwilling to see they were the products of failed social experimentation. When they had first met he felt much the same and his feelings for her had clouded the objective assessment of the world and its people he was later to become notorious for. There was steel in those eyes very different from the soft doe-eyed glances he had once been given. Something else too, cruelty but he could not tell if she was capable of it or maybe she had just witnessed too much. She sat down, taking a sip from the bottled water she carried. It was thirty years or more since they had last spoken. Her hair was uniformly grey and cropped close to her head. She was tall and athletic in her youth but now she seemed gaunt. The hardcore foundationists were known for their frugality and there was something of the ascetic about her. He did not like what he saw. She was so different from his wife a jolly woman who carried the cost and the joy of rearing his children in the entire carriage of her being. Where he saw a distant sadness in his Eva’s eyes, his wife’s were those of a happy fulfilled woman. He sat opposite Eva and gave her a quizzical look.
“ Fun and games over?” He asked. Eva smiled, revealing tight lines around her eyes and mouth.
“ Edward, what’s the point of all this if we can’t have some fun?” It was a response that typified the foundations. A pithy remark meant to disguise some hidden design.
“ Given how important all this is to you, I would have thought you might be somewhat more respectful” Her response was cool and measured.
“ I’m sorry Edward but I don’t have much time for subservience.” It was well known that Edward belonged to the Men of Tradition league, a Christian reformation movement intent on returning to a strong interpretation of biblical law. It was the bane of feminists and liberals everywhere but their protests had not hampered its growing success. Women, sick of the masculinisation of their lives were turning to the comfort of a decent life as the wives of strong men. Edward had given many speeches around the world and was finding more and more men eager for the life he offered. He was not surprised that Eva was so hostile. Sensing that he was getting the upper hand he made a direct request.
“ Can I see the bio-forge?”
The foundations had committed themselves to an open source policy when it came to sharing technology, but in practice they would often dissemble. They cited incomplete testing or only published parts of their results, all in an attempt to get a head start in mass production of proven products. The bio-forge was their latest innovation. Combining crops modified for rapid growth and an automated hydroponics production system its output, in terms of yield per volume, outstripped its nearest commercial competitor. The foundations were keen to see its use legislated in developing nations, citing the need for a drought proof agricultural sector. The interests Edward represented were more concerned with the technology being used to undermine the already weak cash crop and commodities markets.
“ We can arrange something, we won’t be ready for the official tours until next week but if you don’t mind wearing rubber boots and a plastic overall I could get you in for a quick show and tell” It was the answer he wanted, it did not matter if her reasons were to gain access to the commonwealth representatives. He already knew their decision would serve his interests.
“We’ve both eaten, why don’t we get straight to it?”. He expected her to be suspicious, to question his need to see the facility so quickly. Again, her answer surprised him.
“Fine, I have to meet someone first, but if you want to make your way to the central transport terminus I’ll see you there in about twenty minutes and take you down.”
It was as simple as that, the lack of resistance surprised him. With a curt ‘see you later’ she left him. He did not sense any suspicion, but as she left there was a palpable sadness about her. He wondered if she knew she was on the losing side, maybe by agreeing so quickly she was tacitly offering him her support. It would be a considerable bonus to walk away from here with a high profile defection.
The smart rail cabin proceeded at an easy pace, according to the progress data it was doing so to allow its passengers the chance to see the city in all its splendour. He was sure Eva had seen this view countless times and wondered why she did not simply request that the cabin proceed by the most efficient route. He realised she was deferring to him. The cabin onboard sensors had detected it was his first time here and its default setting in such a case was to follow a series of waypoints designed to enhance his trip. It was a nice touch but stuck here with Eva, who remained silent, he felt awkward. His wife had no fear that there would be any infidelity but nonetheless, it was his responsibility to observe propriety. Eva’s mood had changed since their last meeting. He was reminded of the few years they had spent together when sometimes he would watch her staring into space, her eyes dreamy and focussed on nothing he could see. There were times then he found it irresistible but now, when she was the spokeswoman for a political movement her idle reverie struck him as nothing less than selfish indulgence. He wanted to break the silence, confront her, and find some weakness he could use to his advantage. A half smile playing across her lips and her eyes until then lost in some inscrutable thought suddenly focussed on Edward. Her expression changed, from pleasant reverie to cold scrutiny. She stood and there was a question in her eyes, as if she were puzzled that he was paying her so much attention and with the softest gesture she led his eyes away into the heart of the chthonic foundation. He caught only the briefest glimpse before the cabin descended into one of the keep-like wall structures. In the distance he saw a huge aero-digger almost thirty metres to a side ripping out the guts of one of the larger hills; preparing for the next phase of this cities expansion.
Edward followed Eva through the complex. They passed above the power generation centres where he saw the unmistakable domes of the soft fusion generators. They were heading towards Eva’s own bailiwick, The G.M. food and product growth chambers. A central tenet of the Cthonic enterprise was that all materials for growth and subsistence were produced within the complex. According to the documentation he had read this required high production efficiency. The solution here had been the production of high output growth chambers. They were located quite close to the power generators so they could take advantage of the same heat transfer systems. He could see the first of the three operational growth chambers, irregular cylinders plated with smoked glass. If he had seen them individually somewhere, say out on a plain near Kansas, he would have been impressed by their size. They were a fifty metres tall and twenty in diameter. Within the confines of an enormous building the scale was difficult to appreciate. The giant glasshouses were suspended from the primary superstructure and looked like some cocoon trapped in a spiders web of gantries and pipes.
Edward saw the pride in Eva’s eyes as the got closer. This was her folly and Edward saw no value to the thing, it was an abomination. Bastardised life feeding a people corrupted by the power of their technology. He said nothing, just tried hard to hide his true feelings. Eva looked at him and smiled. He wondered if she suspected what he had come here to do or was she simply gloating quietly at his discomfort. The moments silence was broken when Eva began what he suspected was a speech she gave to potential investors and detractors alike. They were standing at the universal docking area; so called as it could accommodate many types of airborne and ground vehicles: cars, large trucks, a smart rail terminus and it was crowned by a ring of landing bays, all suitable for personnel and freight transport.
“C’mon” she said, “I’ll show you around”
They entered the forge through the largest entrance located midway along its longitudinal axis. It was part of a bubble extruded from the surface where the primary control station, staff facilities and laboratories were located. It also had an expansive viewing gallery and briefing centre, this particular forge facilitated tourists hungry for the exotic sights of technology gone mad. At the antechamber Eva paused and looked at Morris, her gaze was intense but softened by an almost comical expression, as though she was wondering whether or not to share some secret.
“ I give this tour quite often Ed but I doubt you want the usual sales pitch. I know you suspect something and whatever assurance I give you won’t believe it. So here we are, if you don’t mind wearing a clean-suit I’ll give you the all access tour”
There was no mistaking the hostility and contempt in her voice. Edward paid it no attention whether she knew it or not she had given him what he wanted. As Eva had said he was very familiar with the technologies and construction of the bio-forge. It was obvious to him now that Eva did not realize why he wanted to be here, otherwise security would have stopped him or at the least some excuse offered to deny him access. She knew what he represented but she did not understand. The Cthonics were trying to save the world with technology, rendering the earth into some tame garden with no aspect of nature beyond the reach of human manipulation. But we are not gods Edward thought to himself but the path the chthonic movement was set upon led inevitably to a humanity absolutely divorced from natural law. A product of scientific arrogance beyond redemption.
“ This will change everything” She said. Edward understood what she meant and pre-empted her next statement.
“ Agriculture as just another material industry, a few thousand cubic metres producing the equivalent of thousands of acres of arable land.”
“ That’s what the brochure says..” and there was no hiding the pride, almost triumph in her voice. “…and its so much more Ed. Given the level of automation, the reduced labour costs and output, cash crops can be reduced to very nearly free commodities.” It was that statement that disturbed Edward the most.
“Free, there’s no such thing as ‘free’ Eva. There’s always a cost, a price. You people spend so much time advertising the benefits of but I’ve yet to read a report on the consequences.” That seemed to throw her off guard, her response was measured.
“ No reports Ed?, the foundations have been researching, publishing and holding conferences on every aspect of technology and its human consequences for over twenty years. Wouldn’t it be more accurate to say that you have ignored every report we’ve published?.”
“ I assure you Eva, we have been paying close attention to the work of the foundations. You might claim it’s for the benefit of humanity but from the start it was an attempt to socialise commercial enterprises.” He liked that last part, if he knew liberals this should start yet another tirade. But Eva remained silent. Her eyes were cold, inscrutable and piercing.
“What’s wrong Eva? I expected quite the response to that one.”
“You expect a lot of things Edward, and from this point on most of them will never happen.” Her tone had lost all it’s passion and it reminded him of someone grieving for a loved one. “We know what you came here to do Edward.”
“ I don’t know what you mean.” But from her expression it seemed his motives had been discovered.
“The aerosol canister, the one you’re carrying in the goodie bag, we know what’s in it.”
Edward knew there was a chance of being discovered, though he had been assured that the material he was carrying would not trigger any alarm, there was always the chance that a chemical sniffer would detect trace amounts of the substance. They were alone in the room, Eva stood close to the exit, he was next to the window overlooking the verdant growth chambers, to his left were the monitor console stations but far more important were the chemical sampling systems where he was supposed to deposit the contents of the aerosol. He wondered if there was enough time, would Eva try to stop him (he doubted she could make any meaningful physical intervention), but more likely several security staff were nearby and ready for action.
“What are you waiting for Ed? I’m sure you’ve been planning this for a long time. You know what to do don’t you?” In her eyes there was something close to malice but no sign yet of any security teams. This was wrong, they weren’t supposed to know and when he succeeded his arrest was to be used as part of a campaign of protests. Yet here he was alone with Eva, his plot discovered but no one it seemed was trying to prevent it.
“Why won’t you stop me?”
“Edward,” her voice soft and condescending “You’re a senior figure in a number of opposition movements, you have every right to protest. If you feel this is necessary to raise public awareness about these issues then by all means do so.”
He knew then there was nothing to gain. If they knew it meant they had already taken steps to guarantee this would only serve their interests. It was a minor setback, the protests would continue. Although this act of vandalism would have been useful as a media focus it was not absolutely necessary and other civil actions would serve just as well.
“How did you know?” It was more than curiousity, her answer might indicate whether it was detected on his person or if there had been an informant.
“Because you’re predictable Ed, given your recent failures to gain any credible following in the developing regions the only course of action was to take a more direct approach. You’re losing the economy so instead you turn it into a matter of high minded morality. In your case it may well be true but it seems to me just another desperate act.” Eva approached him and reached for the satchel.
“May I?” she asked, taking the canister. The one thing that had troubled him was the thought that he might have to use force to sabotage the facility. He had been fortunate that he was alone with Eva but still, it had occurred to him that she might physically resist. Though he was a big man he was gentle by disposition, it would have been difficult to cause her injury. It would have served him better to remember the kind of people he was dealing with. He let her take the canister.
“This doesn’t make a difference.” He said to Eva. “That we were willing to make this protest will be enough to raise doubts about the technology.”
“ I know that Ed.” her voice sound soft, almost condescending. “We might lose the round but we’re already too well established. Even if this project is held over for another few years it just means we’ll have more conclusive data for the next debate.” She walked over to the sampling station beckoning him to follow. She removed the toxin canister from the aerosol and placed it into the same port he had been carefully briefed to.
“What are you doing?” He asked, her actions something of a shock to him.
“There’s no point designing a system with fail safes if you aren’t willing to test them Ed. I know you would have preferred to do this yourself but it seems to me that at least you should have a demonstration.”
Others were entering the chamber. An older man who looked to be in his sixties followed by a loose assortment of security and technical types.
“Senator Morris, a pleasure. I’m Sean Farrell; command executive for the bio-sciences collegiate. Glad you could make it.” There was something in those eyes that he had seen in Eva, a hint of mockery.
“Are you ready Eva?”
“Sure” She said, and flushed the toxin through the system.
“You’ll be glad to hear Senator Morris that we’ve shelved the motion on production licences for the bio-forge system. The Commonwealth and African Congress agreed that there were outstanding safety issues, that coupled with the need for a more comprehensive assessment of environmental impact meant it was unrealistic at this stage.”
Eva interrupted. “What about the extended prototyping agreement?” Farrell Chuckled,
“Relax Eva, we have a preliminary agreement for proto-type testing in South America, Indonesia, and…” He paused for effect. ”…The Sini Congress has requested a proposal for an orbital bio-forge facility.”
There was a round of applause for Eva and she acted every bit the embarrassed ingénue.
Edward looked into the heart of the forge, a sea of green. Alarm systems were flashing and the steady tone of the computers voice described the state of each system as it flushed bleaches and solvents through the contaminated areas. It was working quickly, clumps of matter were sloughed off from the assembly rack and fell into sealed storage bins below. The toxin, he had been assured, was designed to cause a catastrophic failure. According to the information they had obtained, the test facilities were not built to cope. They had been wrong about that and so much more. This attempt at sabotage had been five years of painstaking work; the development of the toxin, getting access to the bio-forge design processes. Edward didn’t know who had originally conceived of the plan, to ensure secrecy personal contacts were kept to a minimum. Yet somewhere among these cells of co-conspirators there had been a weak link. How else could they have known not only who would attempt the sabotage but the nature of the attack. They must have known for several months, long enough to modify the safety systems to detect the toxin. He conceded it was a masterful strategy, his attempt to discredit the enterprise served only to prove the facilities overall safety. He noted that several of the witnesses were highly placed officers from environmental agencies.
He was no longer alone, the crowd had moved to the viewing bay also, to watch several thousand tonnes of modified cereals being jettisoned into bio-containment units. He heard one of the junior technicians inform a Chinese man they would soon be incinerated. Eva was beside him now and she spoke.
“ I’m sorry if this puts you in an awkward position. You can still file your protests but as you can see your concerns over safety were unwarranted.”
“ I’m sure it is, I don’t doubt you know how to build a machine Eva it’s their future we’re trying to prevent.”
“You’re welcome to make your protest Ed, unfortunately using this facility as proof isn’t an option.”
There was nothing more he could do here, his continued presence would only serve the foundations interests. He left. Eva looked around, there was an animated discussion on possible yields in orbital facilities but she had no desire to be a part of it. She made her way to one of the work stations below, to see what the toxin was designed to do.
She was still there when Lexi and Farrell found her. She was hunched over a panel, checking the toxin analysis.
“ Hey there, how you holding up trooper?” Said Eva’s young lover. Success was still raw in his voice until he saw her. She sat on a functional bench in one of the growth chambers monitoring bays. She looked old and her posture echoed future frailties.
Hurt and anger squeezed out in a hiss. ‘Why did he do it?’ The young man shifted uncomfortably in his uniform, the brief silence gave her time to think. He was funny, full of dreams, athletic and good looking: smart; but lacked the sense only years could bring. While her face was in her hands a brief rueful smile flickered through the pain. There was a simple reason she spent her time with him, it was too much to ask that it should be a meeting of the minds too. Now she would have to listen to him as he tried to explain a man she had known for years. It would be a flawed account, more an attempt to demonise than to come to any real understanding.
‘They are afraid of us…’ Lexi began. ‘Us’ and ‘Them’ she silently mocked, always this need to divide and in doing so abrogate responsibility. She knew what she was involved carried heavy risks but politics only hindered any meaningful judgement on the issue. ‘They tried embargos and lobbied their client states but it’s no use. The world is changing and the more they lose their grip, the more desperate the actions they take.’ She did not want to listen. His words seemed too full of rhetoric, echoes of their own demagogues accepted without critical thought.
To stop him talking she reached for his hand and brought it to her face. Let him think his silent presence was comfort enough. She saw too that he was right; there were people who were afraid and what happened today would not be the end.
She thought about the future and those who were trying to prevent it. She had always believed progress would just sneak up on people, by the time some objectionable piece of it was revealed protest would be useless. In the past it had been so, when the future was still full of mystery and hope. But as more realised the end of history was almost upon them, there was fear; about what these new technologies would create and who should control them. And those who were most afraid, were those who wanted to roll back the clock to some simpler better life. A life only fools believed ever existed. So while she sat there in her lovers arms she thought about Morris and what he was thinking in those last few hours.
How had they known some form of sabotage was immanent? She knew Edward would probably suspect a spy, which was just as well. The truth would have terrified him far more. The bio-forge useful as it was in its primary role as a cereal incubator had yielded a second much more useful function. The cereals grown here had been modified not just for use in a synthetic environment but was engineered as part of a vast array of microcomputers, each cell processor, a grain of wheat. There was no informant for Edward to worry about, just the terrible knowledge that given enough processing power the actions of desperate are easily predicted.
Here alone there were over three hundred manufacturing companies ranging from light engineering to world class aerospace design and fabrication: electric cars with performances equal to the best high octane sports models, automated anti-grav lifters for heavy construction, components for deep space exploration projects, games consoles, furniture, composite materials. In short, each chthonic city self contained and self sufficient. In thirty years one Irish entrepreneur starting with almost no start-up capital had created a civilian aerospace company whose presence in the marketplace equalled any of the nation states flagship aircraft manufacturer. There was no major air carrier in the world without their supersonic passenger craft in operation. As the Cthonics influence grew in the global markets the U.S. fell further behind. The E.U., the first global bloc to take advantage of the new economies had already exceeded the United States GNP.
So Morris sat beneath the moulded diamond bubble and looked out over the new phases of the city under construction. He looked grim to the strangers who passed him by. He looked grim and carried the dangerous air of important men about him. He busied himself with his tablet taking care not to appear like some gawping tourist. He settled into his work. He donned his reading glasses and read through some administration documents he was due to sign off. They concerned energy supply logistics for the eastern sea board. Government approved soft fusion licensing schemes covered many rural and super corporate areas but problems had been encountered in urban regions. Black market generators were entering the states via Mexico and Canada. Stiff penalties had so far ceased to deter thousands who had installed then in their homes and businesses. Morris was an advisor to several legislative committees and through his own research company had provided many solutions to government and associated interests searching for reliable means to detect the illegal use of new technologies. The key issue, his main concern was developing a licensed network of urban generators that would provide safe revenues to state sanctioned corporations. He stopped his reading.
All around him people were talking, children were running around noisy and under the most lax of supervision. At observation decks above and below people were sometimes cheering as a particularly large cargo transporter made another successful launch. Morris really needed a secure executive suite for this kind of work but had to settle for this barely adequate public business enclosure. Given the populist nature of the Cthonic centres anything associated with elitism or corporate activity was held in disdain. He had been offered access to the corporate suites but for this visit he needed to remain in the public access areas. Contacts informed him the corporate suites though offering private access to information were routinely monitored by private justice groups keen to ensnare another careless entrepreneur. Fortunately he was an honest man and he brought nothing of value to social vigilantes.
The disposable com unit, issued as part of the junket goodies bag, vibrated on the table. He checked the screen to check the sender’s details and saw that it was Eva placing the call. He answered on the fifth ring.
“ Eva Stanton?”
“ Yes. Is that you Edward?” He paused before answering. It had been a long time since he had spoken to his ex-wife and it was critical that he took control of the encounter.
“ It sure is.“ He said letting something of a smile into his tone of voice. “ It’s been a long time.”
“ Over twenty years Ed.” It was remarkable, he thought, how much people could give away about themselves with so few words. Her words gushed through the phone, vibrant and without guile. Memories long buried rushed to the surface and he was surprised by their intensity. He was a very different man now and it was a moment before he regained his composure. He had been careful so far and these critical moments would determine his success.
“ I guess you’re surprised to hear from me.” Before she spoke a suppressed gasp told him her reaction was near incredulous.
“ Yes, I certainly am. I knew you were here for the trade and regulation conferences but I’m surprised you even knew I was here. What do you want Edward?”
“ I’m looking for information. I’m part of the primary review panel dealing with the international license and patenting agreements. I’m working in your area Eva, advanced modification of cereal crops for commercial markets.” The bait was set.
“ All the information you need is in the public domain Edward, I don’t see how I can add anything new to the discussion. I’m an executive associate, I don’t set policy.”
“ Eva, I’m not interested in policy. All I’m hearing are horror stories about the consequences of contaminated ecosystems-“ Eva interrupted him.
“ Whatever you’re hearing is just scare-mongering. Our species are designed for growth in specific hermetic environments, they’re incapable of propagating in natural environments.”
“ What about the studies carried out in Kansas last year?”
“ Those were a different range of specimens. They were tested in exposed areas, and designed for a different set of conditions.”
“ But some of your work was among the test group”
“ No they were not. We submitted some samples but they were subsequently re-engineered before testing began. Whatever results those tests produced were false. The plants tested were not our original designs. “
“ So you said in the official protest you filed, but isn’t it possible you were in error?”
“Believe what you want Edward,” her voice was subdued, sad for a moment. “ if you want to discuss my work on the public genome projects you are more than welcome but I don’t have time to waste on politics.”
Morris listened to her carefully; she was offended at such obvious barbs to her integrity. He had always recognised her talents in the sciences, now he had to take advantage of weaknesses. He let the moment drag on keeping her off guard and taking the upper hand in the dialogue.
“ I’m sorry if I caught you at a bad time Eva. I’m sure these negotiations must be putting you under a lot of pressure. I would like to see your work. You know how much I admire the craft of honest science. “
before she spoke there was a barely audible snort over the line.
“ If only you practised it yourself!”
“ Eva, “ and this time there was steel in his voice.” I will be casting a vote on this issue. Can’t you give me the information I need to make the right decision? You know the reports distributed through congress and the economic forums were edited to cast your work in an unfavourable light. You’re not the only one who wants to see progress made in these negotiations.” He said those words quickly, a deliberate echo of the unguarded words Eva first said to him.
“ Can you persuade opposition members to vote in our favour?” Eva had never mastered politics, a question so blunt was proof of that. It was exactly what he wanted her to say.
“ Not the core opposition groups.”
“ What about the client states and corporate affiliates?” He had to bide his time here. The congress security commission knew some activists were beginning to weaken opposition in the more liberal states. If Eva had any contact with them and he could find out who they were, it would bolster any act designed to keep them in check.
“ Brazil, the sub Saharan states, I’d say they are going to go with the chthonic proposals.”
“ I know that Ed, ” This time perhaps without realising it she called him by the more familiar name. He could tell her guard was up, she knew something and had no intention of giving it up without something in return.
“ I’m due to report to the commonwealth authority later today, if we can meet up and discuss a few issues I think I can get you a meeting with the senior negotiation team. A chance to secure their vote would be a great opportunity.”
“ Yes it would.”
Morris was caught off guard. Her voice had not come through the phone but from her own mouth. He turned, and there she was, close enough to touch.
A moments panic kept Edward in his seat. He wondered what to expect. The eatery he occupied remained the same. None of its occupants, customers or staff were behaving suspiciously. He caught the eye of a middle aged Asian woman. He tried to glean some clue, a sign to indicate what waited behind him. There was no fear, as one might expect if a gang of security operatives accompanied Eva. All he saw was idle curiosity. The woman looked away with a knowing smile to whomever stood behind him, revealing nothing. All of Morris profession and success depended on the ability to read people, from the merest flicker of expression and the deeper motives that drove them. He was angry, he had been caught off guard. It was time to assess the situation and think quickly. He stood first before turning. With a breath he released tension. He smiled. He assumed an expression of rueful sportsmanlike defeat. This point he conceded to Eva.
“ Good to see you again Edward.”
“ And you Eva” He held out his hand and she took it. Her grip was firm, the contact brief. Morris felt like a fool. He had studied her files, seen the recent photos but the one thing he should have remembered, the one memory he had buried was her effect on him.
She was not alone, a gaggle of young attendants followed her. Some talked among themselves as they watched Edward and Eva.
“ I hoped to see you at your labs. You want to talk here?”
“ No, I was meeting my friends here when you called “
“ You could have told me you were nearby “ He forced a smile, but he doubted his eyes would conceal his displeasure at being caught unawares.
“ I’m sorry Edward, I couldn’t resist. I hope you don’t mind us having some fun at your expense.” She must know how important these issues were and yet she risked everything so she and a few fresh-faced accomplices could share a joke.
Eva turned to her accomplices. They were dressed like her in simple functional clothes the colours and styles denoting to all who were familiar with Foundation policies their profession. There were no obvious marks of rank as hierarchies were frowned upon, from the beginning the foundations were careful to avoid any resemblance to military structures. Morris observed however subtle clues which indicated much. The security branches commanded much respect and were for the most part composed of disillusioned ex military types. By virtue of their putative defection to the chthonic cause they were deeply committed to its defence, as is often the case with converts. They took responsibility for co-ordinating the many civil investigations into corporate crime. The rest of Eva’s companions were dressed in pale cyan and green, information science and biology. Eva wore green with a pronounced white piping; science admin.
It was obvious from the deference to Eva that many were her direct subordinates. Eva whispered something to the young security man beside her. He nodded and took his leave with the rest following.
When they had met in college he was fresh from his graduate studies and completing his MBA. Her beauty attracted him, her knowledge and sharp wit had challenged him. Four years was brief when compared to his twenty seven years of married life, but Eva had been his grand passion and he resented her for it.
She had changed. He remembered her as bright, an excellent scientist. Her failing was her politics, full of sympathy for the less fortunate and unwilling to see they were the products of failed social experimentation. When they had first met he felt much the same and his feelings for her had clouded the objective assessment of the world and its people he was later to become notorious for. There was steel in those eyes very different from the soft doe-eyed glances he had once been given. Something else too, cruelty but he could not tell if she was capable of it or maybe she had just witnessed too much. She sat down, taking a sip from the bottled water she carried. It was thirty years or more since they had last spoken. Her hair was uniformly grey and cropped close to her head. She was tall and athletic in her youth but now she seemed gaunt. The hardcore foundationists were known for their frugality and there was something of the ascetic about her. He did not like what he saw. She was so different from his wife a jolly woman who carried the cost and the joy of rearing his children in the entire carriage of her being. Where he saw a distant sadness in his Eva’s eyes, his wife’s were those of a happy fulfilled woman. He sat opposite Eva and gave her a quizzical look.
“ Fun and games over?” He asked. Eva smiled, revealing tight lines around her eyes and mouth.
“ Edward, what’s the point of all this if we can’t have some fun?” It was a response that typified the foundations. A pithy remark meant to disguise some hidden design.
“ Given how important all this is to you, I would have thought you might be somewhat more respectful” Her response was cool and measured.
“ I’m sorry Edward but I don’t have much time for subservience.” It was well known that Edward belonged to the Men of Tradition league, a Christian reformation movement intent on returning to a strong interpretation of biblical law. It was the bane of feminists and liberals everywhere but their protests had not hampered its growing success. Women, sick of the masculinisation of their lives were turning to the comfort of a decent life as the wives of strong men. Edward had given many speeches around the world and was finding more and more men eager for the life he offered. He was not surprised that Eva was so hostile. Sensing that he was getting the upper hand he made a direct request.
“ Can I see the bio-forge?”
The foundations had committed themselves to an open source policy when it came to sharing technology, but in practice they would often dissemble. They cited incomplete testing or only published parts of their results, all in an attempt to get a head start in mass production of proven products. The bio-forge was their latest innovation. Combining crops modified for rapid growth and an automated hydroponics production system its output, in terms of yield per volume, outstripped its nearest commercial competitor. The foundations were keen to see its use legislated in developing nations, citing the need for a drought proof agricultural sector. The interests Edward represented were more concerned with the technology being used to undermine the already weak cash crop and commodities markets.
“ We can arrange something, we won’t be ready for the official tours until next week but if you don’t mind wearing rubber boots and a plastic overall I could get you in for a quick show and tell” It was the answer he wanted, it did not matter if her reasons were to gain access to the commonwealth representatives. He already knew their decision would serve his interests.
“We’ve both eaten, why don’t we get straight to it?”. He expected her to be suspicious, to question his need to see the facility so quickly. Again, her answer surprised him.
“Fine, I have to meet someone first, but if you want to make your way to the central transport terminus I’ll see you there in about twenty minutes and take you down.”
It was as simple as that, the lack of resistance surprised him. With a curt ‘see you later’ she left him. He did not sense any suspicion, but as she left there was a palpable sadness about her. He wondered if she knew she was on the losing side, maybe by agreeing so quickly she was tacitly offering him her support. It would be a considerable bonus to walk away from here with a high profile defection.
The smart rail cabin proceeded at an easy pace, according to the progress data it was doing so to allow its passengers the chance to see the city in all its splendour. He was sure Eva had seen this view countless times and wondered why she did not simply request that the cabin proceed by the most efficient route. He realised she was deferring to him. The cabin onboard sensors had detected it was his first time here and its default setting in such a case was to follow a series of waypoints designed to enhance his trip. It was a nice touch but stuck here with Eva, who remained silent, he felt awkward. His wife had no fear that there would be any infidelity but nonetheless, it was his responsibility to observe propriety. Eva’s mood had changed since their last meeting. He was reminded of the few years they had spent together when sometimes he would watch her staring into space, her eyes dreamy and focussed on nothing he could see. There were times then he found it irresistible but now, when she was the spokeswoman for a political movement her idle reverie struck him as nothing less than selfish indulgence. He wanted to break the silence, confront her, and find some weakness he could use to his advantage. A half smile playing across her lips and her eyes until then lost in some inscrutable thought suddenly focussed on Edward. Her expression changed, from pleasant reverie to cold scrutiny. She stood and there was a question in her eyes, as if she were puzzled that he was paying her so much attention and with the softest gesture she led his eyes away into the heart of the chthonic foundation. He caught only the briefest glimpse before the cabin descended into one of the keep-like wall structures. In the distance he saw a huge aero-digger almost thirty metres to a side ripping out the guts of one of the larger hills; preparing for the next phase of this cities expansion.
Edward followed Eva through the complex. They passed above the power generation centres where he saw the unmistakable domes of the soft fusion generators. They were heading towards Eva’s own bailiwick, The G.M. food and product growth chambers. A central tenet of the Cthonic enterprise was that all materials for growth and subsistence were produced within the complex. According to the documentation he had read this required high production efficiency. The solution here had been the production of high output growth chambers. They were located quite close to the power generators so they could take advantage of the same heat transfer systems. He could see the first of the three operational growth chambers, irregular cylinders plated with smoked glass. If he had seen them individually somewhere, say out on a plain near Kansas, he would have been impressed by their size. They were a fifty metres tall and twenty in diameter. Within the confines of an enormous building the scale was difficult to appreciate. The giant glasshouses were suspended from the primary superstructure and looked like some cocoon trapped in a spiders web of gantries and pipes.
Edward saw the pride in Eva’s eyes as the got closer. This was her folly and Edward saw no value to the thing, it was an abomination. Bastardised life feeding a people corrupted by the power of their technology. He said nothing, just tried hard to hide his true feelings. Eva looked at him and smiled. He wondered if she suspected what he had come here to do or was she simply gloating quietly at his discomfort. The moments silence was broken when Eva began what he suspected was a speech she gave to potential investors and detractors alike. They were standing at the universal docking area; so called as it could accommodate many types of airborne and ground vehicles: cars, large trucks, a smart rail terminus and it was crowned by a ring of landing bays, all suitable for personnel and freight transport.
“C’mon” she said, “I’ll show you around”
They entered the forge through the largest entrance located midway along its longitudinal axis. It was part of a bubble extruded from the surface where the primary control station, staff facilities and laboratories were located. It also had an expansive viewing gallery and briefing centre, this particular forge facilitated tourists hungry for the exotic sights of technology gone mad. At the antechamber Eva paused and looked at Morris, her gaze was intense but softened by an almost comical expression, as though she was wondering whether or not to share some secret.
“ I give this tour quite often Ed but I doubt you want the usual sales pitch. I know you suspect something and whatever assurance I give you won’t believe it. So here we are, if you don’t mind wearing a clean-suit I’ll give you the all access tour”
There was no mistaking the hostility and contempt in her voice. Edward paid it no attention whether she knew it or not she had given him what he wanted. As Eva had said he was very familiar with the technologies and construction of the bio-forge. It was obvious to him now that Eva did not realize why he wanted to be here, otherwise security would have stopped him or at the least some excuse offered to deny him access. She knew what he represented but she did not understand. The Cthonics were trying to save the world with technology, rendering the earth into some tame garden with no aspect of nature beyond the reach of human manipulation. But we are not gods Edward thought to himself but the path the chthonic movement was set upon led inevitably to a humanity absolutely divorced from natural law. A product of scientific arrogance beyond redemption.
“ This will change everything” She said. Edward understood what she meant and pre-empted her next statement.
“ Agriculture as just another material industry, a few thousand cubic metres producing the equivalent of thousands of acres of arable land.”
“ That’s what the brochure says..” and there was no hiding the pride, almost triumph in her voice. “…and its so much more Ed. Given the level of automation, the reduced labour costs and output, cash crops can be reduced to very nearly free commodities.” It was that statement that disturbed Edward the most.
“Free, there’s no such thing as ‘free’ Eva. There’s always a cost, a price. You people spend so much time advertising the benefits of but I’ve yet to read a report on the consequences.” That seemed to throw her off guard, her response was measured.
“ No reports Ed?, the foundations have been researching, publishing and holding conferences on every aspect of technology and its human consequences for over twenty years. Wouldn’t it be more accurate to say that you have ignored every report we’ve published?.”
“ I assure you Eva, we have been paying close attention to the work of the foundations. You might claim it’s for the benefit of humanity but from the start it was an attempt to socialise commercial enterprises.” He liked that last part, if he knew liberals this should start yet another tirade. But Eva remained silent. Her eyes were cold, inscrutable and piercing.
“What’s wrong Eva? I expected quite the response to that one.”
“You expect a lot of things Edward, and from this point on most of them will never happen.” Her tone had lost all it’s passion and it reminded him of someone grieving for a loved one. “We know what you came here to do Edward.”
“ I don’t know what you mean.” But from her expression it seemed his motives had been discovered.
“The aerosol canister, the one you’re carrying in the goodie bag, we know what’s in it.”
Edward knew there was a chance of being discovered, though he had been assured that the material he was carrying would not trigger any alarm, there was always the chance that a chemical sniffer would detect trace amounts of the substance. They were alone in the room, Eva stood close to the exit, he was next to the window overlooking the verdant growth chambers, to his left were the monitor console stations but far more important were the chemical sampling systems where he was supposed to deposit the contents of the aerosol. He wondered if there was enough time, would Eva try to stop him (he doubted she could make any meaningful physical intervention), but more likely several security staff were nearby and ready for action.
“What are you waiting for Ed? I’m sure you’ve been planning this for a long time. You know what to do don’t you?” In her eyes there was something close to malice but no sign yet of any security teams. This was wrong, they weren’t supposed to know and when he succeeded his arrest was to be used as part of a campaign of protests. Yet here he was alone with Eva, his plot discovered but no one it seemed was trying to prevent it.
“Why won’t you stop me?”
“Edward,” her voice soft and condescending “You’re a senior figure in a number of opposition movements, you have every right to protest. If you feel this is necessary to raise public awareness about these issues then by all means do so.”
He knew then there was nothing to gain. If they knew it meant they had already taken steps to guarantee this would only serve their interests. It was a minor setback, the protests would continue. Although this act of vandalism would have been useful as a media focus it was not absolutely necessary and other civil actions would serve just as well.
“How did you know?” It was more than curiousity, her answer might indicate whether it was detected on his person or if there had been an informant.
“Because you’re predictable Ed, given your recent failures to gain any credible following in the developing regions the only course of action was to take a more direct approach. You’re losing the economy so instead you turn it into a matter of high minded morality. In your case it may well be true but it seems to me just another desperate act.” Eva approached him and reached for the satchel.
“May I?” she asked, taking the canister. The one thing that had troubled him was the thought that he might have to use force to sabotage the facility. He had been fortunate that he was alone with Eva but still, it had occurred to him that she might physically resist. Though he was a big man he was gentle by disposition, it would have been difficult to cause her injury. It would have served him better to remember the kind of people he was dealing with. He let her take the canister.
“This doesn’t make a difference.” He said to Eva. “That we were willing to make this protest will be enough to raise doubts about the technology.”
“ I know that Ed.” her voice sound soft, almost condescending. “We might lose the round but we’re already too well established. Even if this project is held over for another few years it just means we’ll have more conclusive data for the next debate.” She walked over to the sampling station beckoning him to follow. She removed the toxin canister from the aerosol and placed it into the same port he had been carefully briefed to.
“What are you doing?” He asked, her actions something of a shock to him.
“There’s no point designing a system with fail safes if you aren’t willing to test them Ed. I know you would have preferred to do this yourself but it seems to me that at least you should have a demonstration.”
Others were entering the chamber. An older man who looked to be in his sixties followed by a loose assortment of security and technical types.
“Senator Morris, a pleasure. I’m Sean Farrell; command executive for the bio-sciences collegiate. Glad you could make it.” There was something in those eyes that he had seen in Eva, a hint of mockery.
“Are you ready Eva?”
“Sure” She said, and flushed the toxin through the system.
“You’ll be glad to hear Senator Morris that we’ve shelved the motion on production licences for the bio-forge system. The Commonwealth and African Congress agreed that there were outstanding safety issues, that coupled with the need for a more comprehensive assessment of environmental impact meant it was unrealistic at this stage.”
Eva interrupted. “What about the extended prototyping agreement?” Farrell Chuckled,
“Relax Eva, we have a preliminary agreement for proto-type testing in South America, Indonesia, and…” He paused for effect. ”…The Sini Congress has requested a proposal for an orbital bio-forge facility.”
There was a round of applause for Eva and she acted every bit the embarrassed ingénue.
Edward looked into the heart of the forge, a sea of green. Alarm systems were flashing and the steady tone of the computers voice described the state of each system as it flushed bleaches and solvents through the contaminated areas. It was working quickly, clumps of matter were sloughed off from the assembly rack and fell into sealed storage bins below. The toxin, he had been assured, was designed to cause a catastrophic failure. According to the information they had obtained, the test facilities were not built to cope. They had been wrong about that and so much more. This attempt at sabotage had been five years of painstaking work; the development of the toxin, getting access to the bio-forge design processes. Edward didn’t know who had originally conceived of the plan, to ensure secrecy personal contacts were kept to a minimum. Yet somewhere among these cells of co-conspirators there had been a weak link. How else could they have known not only who would attempt the sabotage but the nature of the attack. They must have known for several months, long enough to modify the safety systems to detect the toxin. He conceded it was a masterful strategy, his attempt to discredit the enterprise served only to prove the facilities overall safety. He noted that several of the witnesses were highly placed officers from environmental agencies.
He was no longer alone, the crowd had moved to the viewing bay also, to watch several thousand tonnes of modified cereals being jettisoned into bio-containment units. He heard one of the junior technicians inform a Chinese man they would soon be incinerated. Eva was beside him now and she spoke.
“ I’m sorry if this puts you in an awkward position. You can still file your protests but as you can see your concerns over safety were unwarranted.”
“ I’m sure it is, I don’t doubt you know how to build a machine Eva it’s their future we’re trying to prevent.”
“You’re welcome to make your protest Ed, unfortunately using this facility as proof isn’t an option.”
There was nothing more he could do here, his continued presence would only serve the foundations interests. He left. Eva looked around, there was an animated discussion on possible yields in orbital facilities but she had no desire to be a part of it. She made her way to one of the work stations below, to see what the toxin was designed to do.
She was still there when Lexi and Farrell found her. She was hunched over a panel, checking the toxin analysis.
“ Hey there, how you holding up trooper?” Said Eva’s young lover. Success was still raw in his voice until he saw her. She sat on a functional bench in one of the growth chambers monitoring bays. She looked old and her posture echoed future frailties.
Hurt and anger squeezed out in a hiss. ‘Why did he do it?’ The young man shifted uncomfortably in his uniform, the brief silence gave her time to think. He was funny, full of dreams, athletic and good looking: smart; but lacked the sense only years could bring. While her face was in her hands a brief rueful smile flickered through the pain. There was a simple reason she spent her time with him, it was too much to ask that it should be a meeting of the minds too. Now she would have to listen to him as he tried to explain a man she had known for years. It would be a flawed account, more an attempt to demonise than to come to any real understanding.
‘They are afraid of us…’ Lexi began. ‘Us’ and ‘Them’ she silently mocked, always this need to divide and in doing so abrogate responsibility. She knew what she was involved carried heavy risks but politics only hindered any meaningful judgement on the issue. ‘They tried embargos and lobbied their client states but it’s no use. The world is changing and the more they lose their grip, the more desperate the actions they take.’ She did not want to listen. His words seemed too full of rhetoric, echoes of their own demagogues accepted without critical thought.
To stop him talking she reached for his hand and brought it to her face. Let him think his silent presence was comfort enough. She saw too that he was right; there were people who were afraid and what happened today would not be the end.
She thought about the future and those who were trying to prevent it. She had always believed progress would just sneak up on people, by the time some objectionable piece of it was revealed protest would be useless. In the past it had been so, when the future was still full of mystery and hope. But as more realised the end of history was almost upon them, there was fear; about what these new technologies would create and who should control them. And those who were most afraid, were those who wanted to roll back the clock to some simpler better life. A life only fools believed ever existed. So while she sat there in her lovers arms she thought about Morris and what he was thinking in those last few hours.
How had they known some form of sabotage was immanent? She knew Edward would probably suspect a spy, which was just as well. The truth would have terrified him far more. The bio-forge useful as it was in its primary role as a cereal incubator had yielded a second much more useful function. The cereals grown here had been modified not just for use in a synthetic environment but was engineered as part of a vast array of microcomputers, each cell processor, a grain of wheat. There was no informant for Edward to worry about, just the terrible knowledge that given enough processing power the actions of desperate are easily predicted.
It was the twelfth day of the war
I was in a warehouse, somewhere in the docks. I had seen groups of people running and shouting in that direction. They were angry men, forced to witness the horrors of the last eleven days. I knew resistance was hopeless but I tagged along. I overheard the leader of this group that weapons had been found in one of the warehouses and that military types were trying to organize a resistance. There were more there than I had expected, maybe a couple of hundred people, mostly men all fit and tough. I realized straight off that there was something homogenous about them like a targeted focus group. I had a sense of what was going to happen, a brief glimpse of the futures perversity. The soldier who looked me over wasted no time, right there he gave me some kind of automatic rifle. Not one of the new fancy self targeting types, they were part of the enemy’s arsenal now, no matter whose hands they were in. It looked like one of the new Kalashnikovs, pretty advanced but far inferior to the auto-weapons. He was abrupt, spending a few minutes showing me the basics of loading, aiming and firing.
I listened to the shouts and overheard snatches of hurried conversation. This was not the resistance. After all we had witnessed survival did not seem possible. All these people wanted was to go down fighting, not screaming and begging like the rest. When I was sitting, avoiding groups or individuals desperate to cling to some stranger with words, I could see the officers debating about what they could do. Then I heard the drum of something banging at the warehouse doors. It was so soft and I was the first to know that the doors electronic were being interfered with. I stood, readied my weapon and marched forwards. Sadly I was never meant to be a soldier and my attempts to even ready the gun were fruitless. Nevertheless I kept walking, death at this point was welcome. The doors opened and behind me I heard the shouts of alarm. Of all things I was embarrassed. It never occurred to me to warn the others.
I was looking out over the seafront and coming through the door were ten or more once human things. They were riding bicycles that had glowing green bags of liquid strapped to them. The modification of the people was impressive. Their heads had been severed but using that new miracle material so often used recently to re-attach amputated limbs whatever was behind all this had kept them alive, but not in control of their own bodies. I had seen on T.V. experiments where amputees allowed the processors embedded in the material to control their limbs by remote. I guess that was happening now, a platoon of the dead kept alive, moaning in horror even though the collar around their heads distorted their faces into a sickening grin. I walked right into them expecting death, but they rolled on by.
As I walked into the night air I heard gunfire and screams and the pops as those green gel sacs exploded. I knew there was some common thread uniting those men, logged onto the same football site maybe, or just the same nightclub. I was the odd one out; I did not do sports or go out much. Whatever targeted class I was, tonight was not my time, but they would come for me. I wondered though, how close to the last I was going to be?
I headed south, away from the estuary along the outskirts of the city. There were no sounds of war, no screams, no artillery reports, there was nothing. Now and again I strained to listen for some signs of life or see some distant activity. The street lights were on and humming but there was no traffic, just empty street after immaculate empty street. Every window was dark and what cars were left were parked in neat rows where parking was permitted. I walked like this for hours sinking deeper into suburbia until I found a small bungalow at the corner of some bland housing estate. The lights were on. It could have been a trap, like the warehouse, a bright light to lure the unwary. I thought it odd, though now it hardly mattered as to the method of our execution; still the enemy constructed these elaborate vignettes as though each death were a pay per view event designed for each victim. If I still cared about survival I would have hugged the shadows, but death seemed so inevitable and life so terrifying if it meant living with the memories of the past ten days or so I walked to the house. My only hope was for some quick extinction even though most were denied it.
I knocked at the door; through the frosted glass I saw a pale shape approach. It was a robot, one of the more expensive models. I knew that meant intelligence, a certain autonomous capability. It was designed for medical care it’s shape and demeanor that of a non-threatening and somewhat feminine assistant. It invited me inside with a gesture and I followed it into the living room. I was terrified, wanting death but still exhibiting all those brutal primate reflexes of thundering heart beats and cold sweat. I sat down in a comfortable armchair. I was not alone. A woman in her forties sat in the armchair beside mine and a younger lady, perhaps her daughter was in a wheelchair (manual) by the table. Both were smiling and looking at me. I noticed right away their dilated pupils and awkward drunken movements. I spoke to the medbot.
“Did you drug them?”
“Yes, I am their licensed care assistant” I heard the young lady giggle.
“Brittle bones” she said “It’s genetic, me and my mom both have it” I looked to her mother who seemed to be lost in some dreamy fugue whispering quietly to herself.
“Watch this!” the girl said and raised herself out of the wheelchair. She staggered towards me but halfway lost her balance and fell onto the couch. I heard the unmistakable crunch of breaking bone and she let out a little yelp, followed by fits of hysterical giggling. I turned to the bot.
“Aren’t you going to do something?”
“Do not be concerned sir, I will make them comfortable. It won’t be much longer.”
“Longer?” but I knew what it meant.
“I want to sleep. Can you make me, comfortable?”
“Of course, there is a bedroom down the hall. I was expecting your arrival. There is a glass of water and some medication on the foot locker. Good night sir.”
I was relieved that my end would be peaceful. I tried not to think about what might happen during the night. I took the pills and fell unconscious within minutes.
Then I woke up, it was daylight and I was calm. I recognized the effects of valium. I went back to the living room. It was empty and clean. There was a strong smell of detergent from the couch and a wet patch where the woman had fallen. I heard an auto-bin transport outside, I guess the medbot had arranged for its clients removal. I found it in the kitchen.
“Good morning sir, I trust you slept well?”
“Yes, thank you. What’s happening?”
“I believe you are one of the last sir. If you go to the city centre you will find a pub that is occupied. You will have some time to spend talking to the few who remain.”
“Will I find out why this happened?”
“No, I do not believe so” it said. “There is a car outside it will take you to the city.”
Feeling numb I entered the auto. I saw my reflection, I looked clean and well groomed. The medbot must have tended to me as I slept though it could not do anything about my sunken bloodshot eyes. Whatever those meds were they put a smile on my face. At around mid-day I got to the pub. There were a few people outside smoking. They looked me over as a walked in, their eyes haunted and their hands shaking as they gripped their cigarettes and drinks. Inside the small drinking house thirty or so people were talking, split up into several groups. I sat beside three others, two men about my age and some old lady. The television was on, the images were of the war but something had changed now. The rolling type had been replaced by waveform descriptions and the music was full of hisses and fluting calls. I looked to the others for an explanation.
“It’s the robots doing the talking now, it’s their language. We’re just the last few pieces of garbage.”
“Why did it take so long to get to us?” The woman asked.
“I’m not sure, something to do with their demographic analysis I think”
“Maybe they like us” One of the blokes said. We laughed.
I looked around the pub, garish oranges and vinyl seats.
“Y’know this place could have done with a change in décor. Slate floors, real wood furnishings, something with a bit more class.” The old lady put her hand on mine, “You should have been an architect” she said.
I was finishing a bottle of beer when a rumble was heard. The TV screens showed images of a city being dismantled. Building seemed to crumble into the ground while crystalline shards erupted here and there. Then for a moment there was a familiar image. The American general whose face we had all seen at the beginning declared that it was over and that for any listening, and I presume he meant us, it was best to prepare for the end. The reaction around the pub was like last orders. People grabbed a few bottles and started to leave. I got a bottle of gin. I looked over at the old woman. She was crying softly. She reached out to me but I never felt comfortable around old people. I walked out with the others to find death in the city. The two men I had sat with in the pub were with me I offered them swigs from the gin, the first guy gave back the bottle and walked off along the river to be alone. I drank some more and handed it over to the second. As he drank he told me.
“I always wanted to do radio, a show about foreign cinema or something.”
“That would have been good. I’d have enjoyed that” I said. I reached for the bottle but he pulled it away. His eyes telling me he wouldn’t return it. Behind us the first of this city’s building started to collapse signaling the arrival of the death machines. When they came for us, we were still fighting over the bottle.
I listened to the shouts and overheard snatches of hurried conversation. This was not the resistance. After all we had witnessed survival did not seem possible. All these people wanted was to go down fighting, not screaming and begging like the rest. When I was sitting, avoiding groups or individuals desperate to cling to some stranger with words, I could see the officers debating about what they could do. Then I heard the drum of something banging at the warehouse doors. It was so soft and I was the first to know that the doors electronic were being interfered with. I stood, readied my weapon and marched forwards. Sadly I was never meant to be a soldier and my attempts to even ready the gun were fruitless. Nevertheless I kept walking, death at this point was welcome. The doors opened and behind me I heard the shouts of alarm. Of all things I was embarrassed. It never occurred to me to warn the others.
I was looking out over the seafront and coming through the door were ten or more once human things. They were riding bicycles that had glowing green bags of liquid strapped to them. The modification of the people was impressive. Their heads had been severed but using that new miracle material so often used recently to re-attach amputated limbs whatever was behind all this had kept them alive, but not in control of their own bodies. I had seen on T.V. experiments where amputees allowed the processors embedded in the material to control their limbs by remote. I guess that was happening now, a platoon of the dead kept alive, moaning in horror even though the collar around their heads distorted their faces into a sickening grin. I walked right into them expecting death, but they rolled on by.
As I walked into the night air I heard gunfire and screams and the pops as those green gel sacs exploded. I knew there was some common thread uniting those men, logged onto the same football site maybe, or just the same nightclub. I was the odd one out; I did not do sports or go out much. Whatever targeted class I was, tonight was not my time, but they would come for me. I wondered though, how close to the last I was going to be?
I headed south, away from the estuary along the outskirts of the city. There were no sounds of war, no screams, no artillery reports, there was nothing. Now and again I strained to listen for some signs of life or see some distant activity. The street lights were on and humming but there was no traffic, just empty street after immaculate empty street. Every window was dark and what cars were left were parked in neat rows where parking was permitted. I walked like this for hours sinking deeper into suburbia until I found a small bungalow at the corner of some bland housing estate. The lights were on. It could have been a trap, like the warehouse, a bright light to lure the unwary. I thought it odd, though now it hardly mattered as to the method of our execution; still the enemy constructed these elaborate vignettes as though each death were a pay per view event designed for each victim. If I still cared about survival I would have hugged the shadows, but death seemed so inevitable and life so terrifying if it meant living with the memories of the past ten days or so I walked to the house. My only hope was for some quick extinction even though most were denied it.
I knocked at the door; through the frosted glass I saw a pale shape approach. It was a robot, one of the more expensive models. I knew that meant intelligence, a certain autonomous capability. It was designed for medical care it’s shape and demeanor that of a non-threatening and somewhat feminine assistant. It invited me inside with a gesture and I followed it into the living room. I was terrified, wanting death but still exhibiting all those brutal primate reflexes of thundering heart beats and cold sweat. I sat down in a comfortable armchair. I was not alone. A woman in her forties sat in the armchair beside mine and a younger lady, perhaps her daughter was in a wheelchair (manual) by the table. Both were smiling and looking at me. I noticed right away their dilated pupils and awkward drunken movements. I spoke to the medbot.
“Did you drug them?”
“Yes, I am their licensed care assistant” I heard the young lady giggle.
“Brittle bones” she said “It’s genetic, me and my mom both have it” I looked to her mother who seemed to be lost in some dreamy fugue whispering quietly to herself.
“Watch this!” the girl said and raised herself out of the wheelchair. She staggered towards me but halfway lost her balance and fell onto the couch. I heard the unmistakable crunch of breaking bone and she let out a little yelp, followed by fits of hysterical giggling. I turned to the bot.
“Aren’t you going to do something?”
“Do not be concerned sir, I will make them comfortable. It won’t be much longer.”
“Longer?” but I knew what it meant.
“I want to sleep. Can you make me, comfortable?”
“Of course, there is a bedroom down the hall. I was expecting your arrival. There is a glass of water and some medication on the foot locker. Good night sir.”
I was relieved that my end would be peaceful. I tried not to think about what might happen during the night. I took the pills and fell unconscious within minutes.
Then I woke up, it was daylight and I was calm. I recognized the effects of valium. I went back to the living room. It was empty and clean. There was a strong smell of detergent from the couch and a wet patch where the woman had fallen. I heard an auto-bin transport outside, I guess the medbot had arranged for its clients removal. I found it in the kitchen.
“Good morning sir, I trust you slept well?”
“Yes, thank you. What’s happening?”
“I believe you are one of the last sir. If you go to the city centre you will find a pub that is occupied. You will have some time to spend talking to the few who remain.”
“Will I find out why this happened?”
“No, I do not believe so” it said. “There is a car outside it will take you to the city.”
Feeling numb I entered the auto. I saw my reflection, I looked clean and well groomed. The medbot must have tended to me as I slept though it could not do anything about my sunken bloodshot eyes. Whatever those meds were they put a smile on my face. At around mid-day I got to the pub. There were a few people outside smoking. They looked me over as a walked in, their eyes haunted and their hands shaking as they gripped their cigarettes and drinks. Inside the small drinking house thirty or so people were talking, split up into several groups. I sat beside three others, two men about my age and some old lady. The television was on, the images were of the war but something had changed now. The rolling type had been replaced by waveform descriptions and the music was full of hisses and fluting calls. I looked to the others for an explanation.
“It’s the robots doing the talking now, it’s their language. We’re just the last few pieces of garbage.”
“Why did it take so long to get to us?” The woman asked.
“I’m not sure, something to do with their demographic analysis I think”
“Maybe they like us” One of the blokes said. We laughed.
I looked around the pub, garish oranges and vinyl seats.
“Y’know this place could have done with a change in décor. Slate floors, real wood furnishings, something with a bit more class.” The old lady put her hand on mine, “You should have been an architect” she said.
I was finishing a bottle of beer when a rumble was heard. The TV screens showed images of a city being dismantled. Building seemed to crumble into the ground while crystalline shards erupted here and there. Then for a moment there was a familiar image. The American general whose face we had all seen at the beginning declared that it was over and that for any listening, and I presume he meant us, it was best to prepare for the end. The reaction around the pub was like last orders. People grabbed a few bottles and started to leave. I got a bottle of gin. I looked over at the old woman. She was crying softly. She reached out to me but I never felt comfortable around old people. I walked out with the others to find death in the city. The two men I had sat with in the pub were with me I offered them swigs from the gin, the first guy gave back the bottle and walked off along the river to be alone. I drank some more and handed it over to the second. As he drank he told me.
“I always wanted to do radio, a show about foreign cinema or something.”
“That would have been good. I’d have enjoyed that” I said. I reached for the bottle but he pulled it away. His eyes telling me he wouldn’t return it. Behind us the first of this city’s building started to collapse signaling the arrival of the death machines. When they came for us, we were still fighting over the bottle.
A diagram of terror
A Diagram of Terror
Somewhere out in the sands the tents were set up. The grunts gathered out of earshot were sitting, talking. Emerson their commanding officer looked over. They were close enough to gauge something of their mood. The gregarious types; Rogers and Walters were dominating the tableau, gesturing and he heard their bitter laughter as they upbraided their fellows. He heard no words just voices raised to the point of shouts, but no louder, they were cautioned earlier. They had something of a crowd, the others who were angry. Off to the sides some sat dejected. A group of three were listening to the sergeant; by his general stance he was giving some form of encouragement if not actual comfort. A few ringed the perimeter of the group, isolated: the runts and Jonahs of the platoon.
Emerson was in the command tent listening to the various gathered experts dissect the days operation. For him and his men, a worse day was hard to imagine. He had seen action, he was a decorated officer and on the fast track to higher ranks. Right now he did not care for ambition. All of today’s bloodshed was simulated but he felt sicker than the first time he saw a comrade die a pointless death. The field communications tent had been hastily converted to a conference centre. He recognised some of the soldiers manning the equipment, but there were others here incongruous in their presence. Men in suits, built like soldiers but with cold snake like eyes, watched over three civilians, an old man and his two assistants. There was a general and a federal official liaising with the unseen arms of government watching the proceedings from afar. Morris; the official, attended to his contacts on the other side of the screens. The professor, as he was referred to was silent but Emerson watched him as he coldly surveyed the tent and its occupants. He was hard to read, grim and intent. Sometimes he seemed engaged with events around him and others lost in thought. The discussion so far hinged on the day’s exercises but no one had asked for feedback. It was as though the quality of his men was no mystery and the machines had become the star of the show. He realised now that had been the point of the exercise, to demonstrate the insufficiency of men.
He left the tent, keeping within earshot in case he was called to clarify some point or contribute to a debate. Over by the lee of a hill he saw the machines. They were being tended by men in coveralls. Unlike previous models that required a level of maintenance and expertise to operate that made them impractical in field operations, this new generation were capable of seeing to their own needs. They reminded him of suckling pigs, upon their return from the operation they gathered around their mobile ops centre and attached themselves to the recharge points. They stayed there, flexing their limbs and emitting chortling beeps and whistles that carried through the air like birdsong. About a third of their number patrolled the perimeter pausing here and there before darting to their next position. Emerson was fascinated, though he could identify the utility of their placement, there was nothing predictable about their movements, yet an obvious and undeniable sense of purpose and strategy.
“Emerson!” He was called by one of the suits, who saw no need to address him by rank. When he entered he saw the professor was preparing to address the group and he suspected that he would be called to bear witness to today’s dress rehearsal for the apocalypse.
“I’m sure that no-one present can be in any doubt of the raw potency in combat that these machines represent. It seems to me shameful that you should coerce me into developing such horrors and I wonder if any of you listening have the sense to realise what it is you have a hand in creating. It is a rare occasion that I have a chance to address such august personages so I hope I can take a little of your time.”
It was hard for Emerson to gauge what if any impact this somewhat urbane outburst had on its intended audience, the professor’s minders, however, remained inscrutable.
“As I have told you time and again, it is very easy to control a machine, there are a number of reliable means to ensure there are no misfires or errors but so complex a system as you force me into building is capable of subtleties of behaviour even I cannot describe. It pains me to talk of myself this way. When I began my research on no more than a hunch I was a young man but not a fool. If I was arrogant it was because I thought I could achieve my goals without becoming the servants of the powers you represent. I was too ambitious it seems and you found me soon enough.”
Emerson realised that the suits were not bodyguards but gaolers. The general who until then had remained silent interrupted what seemed to him an indulgent soliloquy amounting to no more than ‘I told you so’.
“How did the HKs break their command protocols?”
Although his men had been the subjects of this trial Emerson was surprised that this was not the question he most wanted answered. Everything about this exercise seemed out of place; the personnel present, the test conditions all indicated that this was not a field trail of usable technology. As an officer with extensive qualifications in engineering and weapons technology he had not been asked to assess the combat effectiveness of this equipment. His men were angry because they came out the other side feeling like sacrificial lambs. The professor though was something of an enigma. A prisoner kept in a gilded cage. The suits that tended to him were hard to read but they treated him like some alien. His mind, the thing that animated his frail form was something they had no choice but to imprison. When Emerson had overheard snatches of conversation between the general, Morris and a few others, they overstressed their contempt for the man and the civilians in the group tried too hard to mask their fear of what he had accomplished. What he had done to the stock market may have been an attempt to warn, but instead became an act of war. These men thought they had captured an asset but Emerson wondered if it was possible to control someone capable of modelling these forms of intelligence. He hoped the professors speech might indicate the how and why of what happened here.
The general though did not address that, he showed no concern for the professors deeper strategy, the apparent failure of this exercise was too real a threat to his perceived ability. The professor looked confused, the interruption was unwelcome.
“The specifics of what happened don’t concern me, I’m surrounded by plenty who could answer that question” He looked over to one of the attendant engineers. The young man looked up and answered hesitantly, not expecting to address those present.
“It looks like there was an unsecured channel in one of the processing threads.” The professor took this discovery to make his point.
“You are not dealing with smart technology here general but the simulation of raw intellectual processes and applying them to death machines. It doesn’t matter what the environment is, and your failure to see what constitutes a field of operations led to this debacle. You look out into the desert and see a theatre for your toys but the basic commands you gave this flock applied to any available environment. The oversight in your programming opened up a new field of possible action and they did not break their command protocols general they simply applied your commands to their own behavioural imperatives.”
The general responded.
“Are you sure you aren’t covering up your own mistakes Professor.”
“Oh, I’m quite sure general, just giving you all the room you need to make yours”
The insult delivered, the professor returned to a study of abstract shapes on the screen and the general consulted with those monitoring from command HQ. Emerson had no choice but to stay although it seemed despite his command experience today he was no more than virtual cannon fodder. He wanted more information, he approached the tech that had discovered the fault.
“Why did they do it?”
“Do what? I was looking at the processing not the action.” Sergei replied.
“Play with us”
“Oh right! That’s their default mode. Outside of combat conditions which they should have been set to, they are designed to engage with their environment and assess the features relevant to their command inputs. The open channel was flagged as a potential means to initiate a malware compromise of their ops system. In that event they should have shut down but instead the commands issued were interpreted as attempts to compromise their primary action parameters.”
It was no accident tech geeks never got laid Emerson thought to himself, before getting Sergei back on track.
“So why did they toy with us?”
“Like I said their default mode is to engage with and learn from the environment. If their command architecture is breached they are programmed to return to the default command parameters and re-verify their sensory and cognitive apparatus. They weren’t playing with you Captain, technically they were performing an experiment.”
Emerson thought back to the days events.
“They had Rogers trapped for half an hour, he said they kept throwing small stones at him.”
“Testing your reflexes”
“The shapes?”
“That’s a little more complicated, the shapes they were tracing out were complex wave forms. They identify each other by signal tags, they must have realised you weren’t radio capable so they traced out the patterns in the sand. Their expectation was that you would trace out a compatible sign.”
“That doesn’t make much sense.”
“When the processing threads were corrupted the language synthesisers were presented to the wrong output mode. It’s like a form of dyslexia. Their physical sensory apparatus were fine, so they engaged in physical forms of testing your capabilities.”
“But at the end, they just ignored us.”
“Sure, your laser tagged rifles should have engaged full combat protocols but they figured out there was no actual combat in effect. They interacted with you as means of re-assessing their environment but with no means to engage with you in as complex a manner as they can with each other they herded you back into the encampment so they could play.”
The general was speaking, to those present and to the watchers at a distance.
“It will take a few days to clear up the mess here, there’s no major damage but my people tell me a few days to iron out the rough edges should get us back on track.”
He turned to Emerson.
“Captain, looks like you’ll be here a few more days until we re-convene.”
With a nod to the suits the professor was escorted out to a waiting transport. One of them approached laying a hand on Sergei’s shoulder.
“No more trouble you, just get in the damned humvee.”
Emerson spoke.
“Are these people under detention?”
The suit just looked at him like he was some kind of fool. Sergei flinched at the hand on his shoulder.
“Sergei, I’ll see you in a few days. I’ll speak to the general see if I can do anything.”
Sergei looked back at him with the same look of contempt he hhad seen from the suits. “Fuck you” was the wearied response.
Outside the machines were shut down after they had loaded themselves into their host transport. Pretty soon all that was left were the tent, a comms officer and a few angry grunts.
Somewhere out in the sands the tents were set up. The grunts gathered out of earshot were sitting, talking. Emerson their commanding officer looked over. They were close enough to gauge something of their mood. The gregarious types; Rogers and Walters were dominating the tableau, gesturing and he heard their bitter laughter as they upbraided their fellows. He heard no words just voices raised to the point of shouts, but no louder, they were cautioned earlier. They had something of a crowd, the others who were angry. Off to the sides some sat dejected. A group of three were listening to the sergeant; by his general stance he was giving some form of encouragement if not actual comfort. A few ringed the perimeter of the group, isolated: the runts and Jonahs of the platoon.
Emerson was in the command tent listening to the various gathered experts dissect the days operation. For him and his men, a worse day was hard to imagine. He had seen action, he was a decorated officer and on the fast track to higher ranks. Right now he did not care for ambition. All of today’s bloodshed was simulated but he felt sicker than the first time he saw a comrade die a pointless death. The field communications tent had been hastily converted to a conference centre. He recognised some of the soldiers manning the equipment, but there were others here incongruous in their presence. Men in suits, built like soldiers but with cold snake like eyes, watched over three civilians, an old man and his two assistants. There was a general and a federal official liaising with the unseen arms of government watching the proceedings from afar. Morris; the official, attended to his contacts on the other side of the screens. The professor, as he was referred to was silent but Emerson watched him as he coldly surveyed the tent and its occupants. He was hard to read, grim and intent. Sometimes he seemed engaged with events around him and others lost in thought. The discussion so far hinged on the day’s exercises but no one had asked for feedback. It was as though the quality of his men was no mystery and the machines had become the star of the show. He realised now that had been the point of the exercise, to demonstrate the insufficiency of men.
He left the tent, keeping within earshot in case he was called to clarify some point or contribute to a debate. Over by the lee of a hill he saw the machines. They were being tended by men in coveralls. Unlike previous models that required a level of maintenance and expertise to operate that made them impractical in field operations, this new generation were capable of seeing to their own needs. They reminded him of suckling pigs, upon their return from the operation they gathered around their mobile ops centre and attached themselves to the recharge points. They stayed there, flexing their limbs and emitting chortling beeps and whistles that carried through the air like birdsong. About a third of their number patrolled the perimeter pausing here and there before darting to their next position. Emerson was fascinated, though he could identify the utility of their placement, there was nothing predictable about their movements, yet an obvious and undeniable sense of purpose and strategy.
“Emerson!” He was called by one of the suits, who saw no need to address him by rank. When he entered he saw the professor was preparing to address the group and he suspected that he would be called to bear witness to today’s dress rehearsal for the apocalypse.
“I’m sure that no-one present can be in any doubt of the raw potency in combat that these machines represent. It seems to me shameful that you should coerce me into developing such horrors and I wonder if any of you listening have the sense to realise what it is you have a hand in creating. It is a rare occasion that I have a chance to address such august personages so I hope I can take a little of your time.”
It was hard for Emerson to gauge what if any impact this somewhat urbane outburst had on its intended audience, the professor’s minders, however, remained inscrutable.
“As I have told you time and again, it is very easy to control a machine, there are a number of reliable means to ensure there are no misfires or errors but so complex a system as you force me into building is capable of subtleties of behaviour even I cannot describe. It pains me to talk of myself this way. When I began my research on no more than a hunch I was a young man but not a fool. If I was arrogant it was because I thought I could achieve my goals without becoming the servants of the powers you represent. I was too ambitious it seems and you found me soon enough.”
Emerson realised that the suits were not bodyguards but gaolers. The general who until then had remained silent interrupted what seemed to him an indulgent soliloquy amounting to no more than ‘I told you so’.
“How did the HKs break their command protocols?”
Although his men had been the subjects of this trial Emerson was surprised that this was not the question he most wanted answered. Everything about this exercise seemed out of place; the personnel present, the test conditions all indicated that this was not a field trail of usable technology. As an officer with extensive qualifications in engineering and weapons technology he had not been asked to assess the combat effectiveness of this equipment. His men were angry because they came out the other side feeling like sacrificial lambs. The professor though was something of an enigma. A prisoner kept in a gilded cage. The suits that tended to him were hard to read but they treated him like some alien. His mind, the thing that animated his frail form was something they had no choice but to imprison. When Emerson had overheard snatches of conversation between the general, Morris and a few others, they overstressed their contempt for the man and the civilians in the group tried too hard to mask their fear of what he had accomplished. What he had done to the stock market may have been an attempt to warn, but instead became an act of war. These men thought they had captured an asset but Emerson wondered if it was possible to control someone capable of modelling these forms of intelligence. He hoped the professors speech might indicate the how and why of what happened here.
The general though did not address that, he showed no concern for the professors deeper strategy, the apparent failure of this exercise was too real a threat to his perceived ability. The professor looked confused, the interruption was unwelcome.
“The specifics of what happened don’t concern me, I’m surrounded by plenty who could answer that question” He looked over to one of the attendant engineers. The young man looked up and answered hesitantly, not expecting to address those present.
“It looks like there was an unsecured channel in one of the processing threads.” The professor took this discovery to make his point.
“You are not dealing with smart technology here general but the simulation of raw intellectual processes and applying them to death machines. It doesn’t matter what the environment is, and your failure to see what constitutes a field of operations led to this debacle. You look out into the desert and see a theatre for your toys but the basic commands you gave this flock applied to any available environment. The oversight in your programming opened up a new field of possible action and they did not break their command protocols general they simply applied your commands to their own behavioural imperatives.”
The general responded.
“Are you sure you aren’t covering up your own mistakes Professor.”
“Oh, I’m quite sure general, just giving you all the room you need to make yours”
The insult delivered, the professor returned to a study of abstract shapes on the screen and the general consulted with those monitoring from command HQ. Emerson had no choice but to stay although it seemed despite his command experience today he was no more than virtual cannon fodder. He wanted more information, he approached the tech that had discovered the fault.
“Why did they do it?”
“Do what? I was looking at the processing not the action.” Sergei replied.
“Play with us”
“Oh right! That’s their default mode. Outside of combat conditions which they should have been set to, they are designed to engage with their environment and assess the features relevant to their command inputs. The open channel was flagged as a potential means to initiate a malware compromise of their ops system. In that event they should have shut down but instead the commands issued were interpreted as attempts to compromise their primary action parameters.”
It was no accident tech geeks never got laid Emerson thought to himself, before getting Sergei back on track.
“So why did they toy with us?”
“Like I said their default mode is to engage with and learn from the environment. If their command architecture is breached they are programmed to return to the default command parameters and re-verify their sensory and cognitive apparatus. They weren’t playing with you Captain, technically they were performing an experiment.”
Emerson thought back to the days events.
“They had Rogers trapped for half an hour, he said they kept throwing small stones at him.”
“Testing your reflexes”
“The shapes?”
“That’s a little more complicated, the shapes they were tracing out were complex wave forms. They identify each other by signal tags, they must have realised you weren’t radio capable so they traced out the patterns in the sand. Their expectation was that you would trace out a compatible sign.”
“That doesn’t make much sense.”
“When the processing threads were corrupted the language synthesisers were presented to the wrong output mode. It’s like a form of dyslexia. Their physical sensory apparatus were fine, so they engaged in physical forms of testing your capabilities.”
“But at the end, they just ignored us.”
“Sure, your laser tagged rifles should have engaged full combat protocols but they figured out there was no actual combat in effect. They interacted with you as means of re-assessing their environment but with no means to engage with you in as complex a manner as they can with each other they herded you back into the encampment so they could play.”
The general was speaking, to those present and to the watchers at a distance.
“It will take a few days to clear up the mess here, there’s no major damage but my people tell me a few days to iron out the rough edges should get us back on track.”
He turned to Emerson.
“Captain, looks like you’ll be here a few more days until we re-convene.”
With a nod to the suits the professor was escorted out to a waiting transport. One of them approached laying a hand on Sergei’s shoulder.
“No more trouble you, just get in the damned humvee.”
Emerson spoke.
“Are these people under detention?”
The suit just looked at him like he was some kind of fool. Sergei flinched at the hand on his shoulder.
“Sergei, I’ll see you in a few days. I’ll speak to the general see if I can do anything.”
Sergei looked back at him with the same look of contempt he hhad seen from the suits. “Fuck you” was the wearied response.
Outside the machines were shut down after they had loaded themselves into their host transport. Pretty soon all that was left were the tent, a comms officer and a few angry grunts.
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
The Legacy of Infrastructure
So after all that meandering I end up here. I wrote about breakthroughs in fabrication technology and what it could mean for consumers of technology. One thing I had to acknowledge were the barriers to demand for this technology. Consumers adapt to the marketplace, the demand for goods and services is contingent. The world of possibility has limits, defined by the practical. Whatever we might want, we can only get what is available for the price we can afford. Change is incremental, it is rare for something to emerge that causes radical changes to consumption habits. It might seem odd to make the case that radical changes to a market happen only rarely, given that we live in a time where computers and networked communications develop so rapidly. I would argue this fact is exceptional in itself, in truth the change we experience near daily in the growth of web based services and product development and delivery is the product of advances made several decades ago. Remember the W3, still relies on a system of communications developed in the 60s, it has taken that long for it to become ubiquitous.
This is where the notion of the legacy of infrastructure becomes pertinent. There is an impetus, an inertia inherent in technology. When something new emerges with the ability to alter for the better pre-existing means of performing a task, the cost of immediately adopting it can be exorbitant, since not only must one factor in the cost of making the new technology available but also the cost of changing from one form of technology to another. Take electric vehicles as another example, right now the technology exist to build electric cars, bikes and trucks that in terms of cost and performance are becoming competitive with conventional fossil fuelled vehicles. The cost of manufacturing the vehicles is however a lot higher than the cost of the equivalent sized or powered fossil fuelled vehicle, again the cost of which is substantially lower due to the massive economies of scale enjoyed by their manufacturers. There are other costs too, the global infrastructure of oil fields, refineries, fuel retailers designed to efficiently distribute fuel to the consumer has taken the more than a century to evolve into the form it takes today. From a human perspective literally millions of people have spent their professional lives working in these industries, from C.E.Os to your humble car mechanic, all of whom it would appear will need to substantially re-educate themselves to deal with electric vehicles should they come to dominate the market. The question is will they? Ignoring the more conspiratorial opinions circulating about “Big Oil” even in the most optimistic and realistic assessments it will take several decades to create an infrastructure that will make electric vehicles compete on an even level with fossil fuel technology. Whether you like it or not, for the time being if you want to move fast and still consider yourself an ecologically responsible citizen, for the time being you are better off sticking to reliable second hand cars than buying the latest hybrid or electric vehicle. The time it takes for a discovery to emerge from the lab then to market then onward to whatever from of success it can hope to enjoy depends greatly upon its novelty. The point in time say when electricity was harnessed to the time it became practical to employ took several decades, probably longer (citation) however its rapid growth and adoption by people worldwide happened because of its novelty. Not only was it brand new but because of this nothing could stand in its to challenge it. A discovery of that magnitude happens rarely, so even after a century of the internal combustion engine, when technology can produce more efficient cleaner ways of moving heavy objects, the technology also has to offer enough to consumers to change from a mode of propulsion that has already had a century of optimisation and a huge global industry to support. For all the possible advantages of electric motors, there is a lot still to do before they can challenge fossil fuels as the primary means of moving vehicles.
To bring this back to that little machine I keep talking about that fabricate any number of devices in the home. Not only does it need to improve significantly to become truly successful it needs to compete against a long established impetus keeping things as they are now, which sees the typical consumer, folks like you and me I assume, from challenging that status quo. There are ways that this technology could have a significant impact and that is in developing economies. Take Africa for a quick example, a vast continent for sure and one that needs access to technology to grow economically and as a means to improve quality of life for its many peoples. In the past this project was undertaken on behalf of Africans by colonial (Western Nations) or neo-colonial (western corporation and NGOs) agencies, deciding what was needed by Africa with only limited consultation with actual Africans. This paternalistic relationship has dwindled somewhat since neo-liberal policies seem to allow for market forces to operate in Africa as they do in western economies. There is no better example of this that the growth of telecommunications in Africa. Given the vast size of Africa and the differences in infrastructure between any two regions a centralised telecoms system was never going to work. The old fashioned way of doing things, (from the perspective of western developed nations at least) cable based technology, was never practical in the context of African geography, instead today we are seeing an explosive increase in mobile telephony, a system far easier to implement than conventional land lines. The simple reason for this is that mobile telephony solves a lot of problems; it is easier to implement and since there is no competing technology it can spread rapidly and without competition. Looking at it this way ignores competition between rival telecoms corporations, individual carriers may die out but this is only to the benefit of the consumers in Africa since in the long run this competition only serves to lower the cost of the technology, thus ensuring long term success.
While 3d printing and similar technology may not be able to compete in economies where there is an established logistical network in place that can easily supply consumers with the commodities they demand, in areas where such an infrastructure is patchy at best perhaps 3d printing has something to offer. Rather than rely on delivery of expensive goods through a long delivery chain might it make more sense to receive blueprints for said goods and manufacture them on site? There could be several advantages to this: Complex objects no matter how well made are expensive to repair and if the machine in question requires spare parts that could take a long time to deliver and or require expertise from far a field to effect both of these factors serve to inhibit demand for this technology since the benefits become unreliable. However id simpler models could be developed, designed to be fabricated using cheap materials (possibly even adapted to take advantage of material available locally) then it becomes practical and worthwhile to possess those devices. In the event of breakage the expertise required to repair is available through a reliable and real time communications link and spare parts can be manufactured on site. As new and improved systems are developed existing machines can be upgraded or broken down to the constituent materials and a new model can be manufactured.
Not only would this system help developing economies but now that we live in an age where protecting the environment is paramount, it is a system where it is reasonable to expect that almost all goods manufactured this way are entirely recyclable.
Whether or not it will happen this way remains to be seen. It is one option out of many, and since it is such a novel approach competing with a substantial impetus that will in time create an effective system of logistics to support goods manufactured from central locations, then it may be as specialised in those regions as elsewhere. As I have said previously, among the factors mitigating against such a system is the requirement for a high level of expertise to use such a system effectively. In time, the technology may reach a stage where it becomes not only practical but advantageous to use systems like this it remains to be seen if there is sufficient demand for it anywhere in the world.
http://www.wired.com/magazine/2010/01/ff_newrevolution
This is where the notion of the legacy of infrastructure becomes pertinent. There is an impetus, an inertia inherent in technology. When something new emerges with the ability to alter for the better pre-existing means of performing a task, the cost of immediately adopting it can be exorbitant, since not only must one factor in the cost of making the new technology available but also the cost of changing from one form of technology to another. Take electric vehicles as another example, right now the technology exist to build electric cars, bikes and trucks that in terms of cost and performance are becoming competitive with conventional fossil fuelled vehicles. The cost of manufacturing the vehicles is however a lot higher than the cost of the equivalent sized or powered fossil fuelled vehicle, again the cost of which is substantially lower due to the massive economies of scale enjoyed by their manufacturers. There are other costs too, the global infrastructure of oil fields, refineries, fuel retailers designed to efficiently distribute fuel to the consumer has taken the more than a century to evolve into the form it takes today. From a human perspective literally millions of people have spent their professional lives working in these industries, from C.E.Os to your humble car mechanic, all of whom it would appear will need to substantially re-educate themselves to deal with electric vehicles should they come to dominate the market. The question is will they? Ignoring the more conspiratorial opinions circulating about “Big Oil” even in the most optimistic and realistic assessments it will take several decades to create an infrastructure that will make electric vehicles compete on an even level with fossil fuel technology. Whether you like it or not, for the time being if you want to move fast and still consider yourself an ecologically responsible citizen, for the time being you are better off sticking to reliable second hand cars than buying the latest hybrid or electric vehicle. The time it takes for a discovery to emerge from the lab then to market then onward to whatever from of success it can hope to enjoy depends greatly upon its novelty. The point in time say when electricity was harnessed to the time it became practical to employ took several decades, probably longer (citation) however its rapid growth and adoption by people worldwide happened because of its novelty. Not only was it brand new but because of this nothing could stand in its to challenge it. A discovery of that magnitude happens rarely, so even after a century of the internal combustion engine, when technology can produce more efficient cleaner ways of moving heavy objects, the technology also has to offer enough to consumers to change from a mode of propulsion that has already had a century of optimisation and a huge global industry to support. For all the possible advantages of electric motors, there is a lot still to do before they can challenge fossil fuels as the primary means of moving vehicles.
To bring this back to that little machine I keep talking about that fabricate any number of devices in the home. Not only does it need to improve significantly to become truly successful it needs to compete against a long established impetus keeping things as they are now, which sees the typical consumer, folks like you and me I assume, from challenging that status quo. There are ways that this technology could have a significant impact and that is in developing economies. Take Africa for a quick example, a vast continent for sure and one that needs access to technology to grow economically and as a means to improve quality of life for its many peoples. In the past this project was undertaken on behalf of Africans by colonial (Western Nations) or neo-colonial (western corporation and NGOs) agencies, deciding what was needed by Africa with only limited consultation with actual Africans. This paternalistic relationship has dwindled somewhat since neo-liberal policies seem to allow for market forces to operate in Africa as they do in western economies. There is no better example of this that the growth of telecommunications in Africa. Given the vast size of Africa and the differences in infrastructure between any two regions a centralised telecoms system was never going to work. The old fashioned way of doing things, (from the perspective of western developed nations at least) cable based technology, was never practical in the context of African geography, instead today we are seeing an explosive increase in mobile telephony, a system far easier to implement than conventional land lines. The simple reason for this is that mobile telephony solves a lot of problems; it is easier to implement and since there is no competing technology it can spread rapidly and without competition. Looking at it this way ignores competition between rival telecoms corporations, individual carriers may die out but this is only to the benefit of the consumers in Africa since in the long run this competition only serves to lower the cost of the technology, thus ensuring long term success.
While 3d printing and similar technology may not be able to compete in economies where there is an established logistical network in place that can easily supply consumers with the commodities they demand, in areas where such an infrastructure is patchy at best perhaps 3d printing has something to offer. Rather than rely on delivery of expensive goods through a long delivery chain might it make more sense to receive blueprints for said goods and manufacture them on site? There could be several advantages to this: Complex objects no matter how well made are expensive to repair and if the machine in question requires spare parts that could take a long time to deliver and or require expertise from far a field to effect both of these factors serve to inhibit demand for this technology since the benefits become unreliable. However id simpler models could be developed, designed to be fabricated using cheap materials (possibly even adapted to take advantage of material available locally) then it becomes practical and worthwhile to possess those devices. In the event of breakage the expertise required to repair is available through a reliable and real time communications link and spare parts can be manufactured on site. As new and improved systems are developed existing machines can be upgraded or broken down to the constituent materials and a new model can be manufactured.
Not only would this system help developing economies but now that we live in an age where protecting the environment is paramount, it is a system where it is reasonable to expect that almost all goods manufactured this way are entirely recyclable.
Whether or not it will happen this way remains to be seen. It is one option out of many, and since it is such a novel approach competing with a substantial impetus that will in time create an effective system of logistics to support goods manufactured from central locations, then it may be as specialised in those regions as elsewhere. As I have said previously, among the factors mitigating against such a system is the requirement for a high level of expertise to use such a system effectively. In time, the technology may reach a stage where it becomes not only practical but advantageous to use systems like this it remains to be seen if there is sufficient demand for it anywhere in the world.
http://www.wired.com/magazine/2010/01/ff_newrevolution
Thursday, 21 April 2011
Tuesday, 19 April 2011
The technology of fabrication and the means by which it can improve lives.
After writing the last few blog posts, which I hope in some vague way covered some of the basics of new and emerging systems of fabrication, I guess I’m left wondering where the actual future lies. Those who champion the virtues of the next big thing are always going to be somewhat utopian in their vision. The steam engine, electricity and nuclear power, aside from their often irrational detractors sadly also had an equal number of irrational advocates. While these advances in technology have yet to definitively destroy the earth, neither did they end poverty, famine or cure all known diseases and make a three day work week standard. For all that technology often inspires dreams of a better future, those visions need to be bound by what is actually possible. When the initial discoveries about electricity were being made there was an eruption of ridiculous claims about its power, the novel Frankenstein was in many respects a kind of summary of these crackpot theories. More interesting though are those claims that lie within the boundaries of what is physically possible and yet never see the fruition their champion’s desire. With the advent of nuclear power as a means of generating electricity, there some who believed there would soon be a day when every home might possess one. Practical issues, and subsequent discoveries about its danger meant we would never see a micro reactor replace the gas boiler. While the link between nuclear power and nuclear warfare meant applications in a civilian context would have to be limited. Many of the nuclear reactors built used a design that enabled them to yield nuclear material meant for nuclear weaponry.
Nuclear power is something of a red herring for this blog, which concentrates on technology available to the typical consumer, but it does highlight what I want to discuss today. Were it not for the demand for materials suitable for nuclear weapons, nuclear technology could have developed very differently. There is certainly no question that the world we live in has benefited because of nuclear technology in general. Alas, the legacy of nuclear weapons have left us with nuclear reactors far more dangerous than they needed to be. There is reason for guarded optimism, new designs offer nuclear power that is more efficient and far less toxic. For instance serious research into Thorium molten salt reactors. Thorium, a heavy metal far more common that the materials required for current reactors and with a much shorter time span during which waste materials are dangerous, could offer a new generation of nuclear power, not only less hazardous but incapable of being used to produce materials necessary for nuclear weapons.
This leads us back to my point about the way in which scientific discoveries and new technology, while they may have any number of possible applications, in the end enter a marketplace that will have a profound effect on the way it is used. It was the necessity to build large arsenalsa of nuclear weapons that led to the design for reactors most common today. In much the same way, mass production has shaped the kinds of technology we can possess. We live in an age where we can have something cheap provided millions of people can have and afford the same thing too. This means that if you want something unique, bespoke made just for you it will cost far more than the equivalent manufactured item. For all practical purposes what you can get that is unique is somewhat limited too. For items like household electronics and other devices, it is impractical regardless of budget to have machinery built just for you. There is at least one good reason for this, aside from the cost of developing the next big thing, be it faster computer processors, better vacuum cleaners or more efficient light bulbs there is no need for many of these items to be custom made. Once they are designed, manufacture reduces these goods almost to the level of undistinguishable commodities. There may be people who want a particular product to be customised to their own aesthetic tastes, but the internal components of the resulting machine or device are likely to be little different in form or function than the equivalent item bought at bargain basement prices. A good example are personal computers designed for the professional computer game players (yes, such people exist!). These computers are a far cry from those most people would experience in their home or workplace and considerably more powerful. All so that those enjoy the PC as a gaming machine can squeeze a few extra frames from their set-up. You might think spending a few hundred euros for a PC is sufficient but the truly dedicated player can easily part with several thousand. The architecture is the same, but the individual components are all top of the line and from the perspective of design, they sure look pretty(Take a look at this set-up from Alienware).
So there is a market for those who want to put their own stamp on the items they own, but will the technology to do so lowering in price and availability will there ever be a real demand for it. Will the demand for product differentiation ever get to the point where the typical consumer will expect there device to be unique. I doubt it, part of the reason for the success of mass production is that not only are devices cheap, because they share so much of the same functionality; learning to use one such device means using others like it is so much easier. There is a point to be made about psychology too. Ownership of these goods is often a declaration of what kind of person you are and which groups and communities you have an affinity with. Macs versus P.C.s being a good example. There is a desire among consumers to forego customisation to declare loyalty to communities that favour certain goods over another, sometimes at the expense of quality, value and utility (The strange decisions supposedly rational consumers make really is a puzzle for those who study the marketplace). If the advances being in made in fabrication are going to enter the marketplace in a big way, I suspect that something approaching a revolution is needed. If it doesn’t happen in this little corner of the planet, could it happen somewhere else?
To be continued...
After writing the last few blog posts, which I hope in some vague way covered some of the basics of new and emerging systems of fabrication, I guess I’m left wondering where the actual future lies. Those who champion the virtues of the next big thing are always going to be somewhat utopian in their vision. The steam engine, electricity and nuclear power, aside from their often irrational detractors sadly also had an equal number of irrational advocates. While these advances in technology have yet to definitively destroy the earth, neither did they end poverty, famine or cure all known diseases and make a three day work week standard. For all that technology often inspires dreams of a better future, those visions need to be bound by what is actually possible. When the initial discoveries about electricity were being made there was an eruption of ridiculous claims about its power, the novel Frankenstein was in many respects a kind of summary of these crackpot theories. More interesting though are those claims that lie within the boundaries of what is physically possible and yet never see the fruition their champion’s desire. With the advent of nuclear power as a means of generating electricity, there some who believed there would soon be a day when every home might possess one. Practical issues, and subsequent discoveries about its danger meant we would never see a micro reactor replace the gas boiler. While the link between nuclear power and nuclear warfare meant applications in a civilian context would have to be limited. Many of the nuclear reactors built used a design that enabled them to yield nuclear material meant for nuclear weaponry.
Nuclear power is something of a red herring for this blog, which concentrates on technology available to the typical consumer, but it does highlight what I want to discuss today. Were it not for the demand for materials suitable for nuclear weapons, nuclear technology could have developed very differently. There is certainly no question that the world we live in has benefited because of nuclear technology in general. Alas, the legacy of nuclear weapons have left us with nuclear reactors far more dangerous than they needed to be. There is reason for guarded optimism, new designs offer nuclear power that is more efficient and far less toxic. For instance serious research into Thorium molten salt reactors. Thorium, a heavy metal far more common that the materials required for current reactors and with a much shorter time span during which waste materials are dangerous, could offer a new generation of nuclear power, not only less hazardous but incapable of being used to produce materials necessary for nuclear weapons.
This leads us back to my point about the way in which scientific discoveries and new technology, while they may have any number of possible applications, in the end enter a marketplace that will have a profound effect on the way it is used. It was the necessity to build large arsenalsa of nuclear weapons that led to the design for reactors most common today. In much the same way, mass production has shaped the kinds of technology we can possess. We live in an age where we can have something cheap provided millions of people can have and afford the same thing too. This means that if you want something unique, bespoke made just for you it will cost far more than the equivalent manufactured item. For all practical purposes what you can get that is unique is somewhat limited too. For items like household electronics and other devices, it is impractical regardless of budget to have machinery built just for you. There is at least one good reason for this, aside from the cost of developing the next big thing, be it faster computer processors, better vacuum cleaners or more efficient light bulbs there is no need for many of these items to be custom made. Once they are designed, manufacture reduces these goods almost to the level of undistinguishable commodities. There may be people who want a particular product to be customised to their own aesthetic tastes, but the internal components of the resulting machine or device are likely to be little different in form or function than the equivalent item bought at bargain basement prices. A good example are personal computers designed for the professional computer game players (yes, such people exist!). These computers are a far cry from those most people would experience in their home or workplace and considerably more powerful. All so that those enjoy the PC as a gaming machine can squeeze a few extra frames from their set-up. You might think spending a few hundred euros for a PC is sufficient but the truly dedicated player can easily part with several thousand. The architecture is the same, but the individual components are all top of the line and from the perspective of design, they sure look pretty(Take a look at this set-up from Alienware).
So there is a market for those who want to put their own stamp on the items they own, but will the technology to do so lowering in price and availability will there ever be a real demand for it. Will the demand for product differentiation ever get to the point where the typical consumer will expect there device to be unique. I doubt it, part of the reason for the success of mass production is that not only are devices cheap, because they share so much of the same functionality; learning to use one such device means using others like it is so much easier. There is a point to be made about psychology too. Ownership of these goods is often a declaration of what kind of person you are and which groups and communities you have an affinity with. Macs versus P.C.s being a good example. There is a desire among consumers to forego customisation to declare loyalty to communities that favour certain goods over another, sometimes at the expense of quality, value and utility (The strange decisions supposedly rational consumers make really is a puzzle for those who study the marketplace). If the advances being in made in fabrication are going to enter the marketplace in a big way, I suspect that something approaching a revolution is needed. If it doesn’t happen in this little corner of the planet, could it happen somewhere else?
To be continued...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)