Perfectopia - Part #2/8
In an ideal world, YOU are the imperfection.
RECAP:
Inspired by a dramatic breakthrough in human brain mapping technology, Sigmund —a young scientist — comes up with a far-fetched idea of using pre-programmed nanobots to subtly tweak decision making process of the world’s leaders.
Part #1 ends with Siggy trying to persuade his reluctant friends: Emily, Paul and his girlfriend/co-worker Gaby — all brilliant specialists in their fields — into fleshing out his theory. Purely as a mental exercise…
Part #2
7 months later - October 2029 | Edmonton, Canada
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From: Antoine Gagnon (NRC)
To: Sigmund Roth
Subject: [URGENT] Meeting
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“Uh, Gabs, it seems I’m being ASAPed into the director’s office.” Sigmund called out to his girlfriend over the open door into the next room. “No sure what it’s about, tho”.
Weighted by a sense of premonition, he locked his workstation, and headed straight for Antoine’s office. Inside, the foreboding feeling intensified when he noticed his superior was in the company of Centre’s counsel, who gestured for him to take a seat.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush, Sigmund.” Said the official, once his subordinate was seated. “I just became aware of your unauthorized use of NRC lab equipment.”
A wave of heat flushed down the length of the young man’s body. His shoulders slumped and his face was drained of color, as he realized that blinded by the progress and his own unchecked enthusiasm, he wasn’t careful enough.
The lawyer took over before Sigmund could compose himself enough for an ‘I can explain’ attempt.
“7 unreported instances of usage of the Nano-Fabrication Platform, printing out unknown batches of nano-material.”
“A total of almost 48 hours of usage of the Neurobot Resonance Scanner without logging any data output.”
“Nearly 200 neuron simulations ran on the mainframe during off-peak hours. No attribution to any ongoing project.”
Sigmund barely heard the words being spoken, the I’m so fucked mantra spinning on repeat in his mind.
“And this one is specifically worrisome: at least 3 occasions where you used Microvector Delivery Injector, which Director Gagnon tells me is a heavily regulated apparatus, yet you failed to obtain the grants and haven’t logged usage briefings afterwards.”
The counsel continued in the same vein, throwing scary sounding words like gross negligence, extreme insubordination, conspiracy to misuse around, until the director cut him off.
“You probably understand that I have no other option but to let you go, Sigmund.” He said with a heavy sigh. “Of course, we will be doing a thorough investigation of this incident, during which we will rely on your cooperation in determining your role and motives, and whether the authorities should be involved, but for now, Sigmund, can you just tell me: what in the name of hell were you thinking?”
***
“So…” Paul finally broke the silence, hanging heavy in the empty garage-cum-makeshift lab of his mansion… “we’re all going to jail or something?”
“Nah.” Replied Sigmund. “I made sure to drive the point across that I was flying solo with this playing a mad scientist gig. As far as they are concerned, nobody else was aware about my shenanigans—even you, Gabs. And since they don’t have any evidence of any classified data or tech leaking, they’re just prob gonna sweep it all under the rug, including yours truly. That said, my chances of getting any job involving the use of my brain in this town are now negligible.”
“Cut the drama, you’ll be okay, eventually.” Paul tried to cheer his friend on in his own, not overly helpful way, but Sigmund appreciated it nevertheless. “So what now? We scuttle our little exercise and start shredding papers?”
“And you accuse me of drama?” Sigmund bit back. “Nobody’s breathing down our necks, and we’re too close to just let everything go to trash.”
“Close, but not quite there yet.” Gaby pointed out.
“Our prototype Neurils work!” Shot back Sigmund.
“Yes, Sig, the nano-scale neurobots—Neurils if you so insist on calling them that—do seem to be stable and functioning, but…”
“And a million (or nearly 200 if I were to quote Mrs. Novak from Legal) of neural simulations check out, don’t they?”
“Yeah, but…”
“And we were able to sample a decent library worth of emotions and response impulses with the NR scanner and even came up with a finely distilled set of reasoning models, ripe for unleashing onto gov heads, haven’t we?”
“Yes, with one test subject—you.”
“And please remind me, because my memory is a bit hazy on this,” Sigmund ignored his girlfriend’s remark, “have we or haven’t we made Neurils modulate the actual synaptic cues to trick my brain into actually liking a fucking licorice ?”
Gaby kept silent. She knew her boyfriend was on a roll, and wouldn’t stop until he had it flushed out of his system.
“I mean, I have a lifetime of memories of my stomach turning inside out even at the thought of the nasty stuff, but for a brief moment there in the lab, Neurils made me crave it. Ewww!”
“Aight, you made your point, Siggy.” Paul came to Gaby’s rescue. “This shit works beyond our expectations, but you’re forgetting one last piece of the puzzle—the delivery. It’s not like we can waltz into, say, the White House and say ‘Nice one out here today, eh Mr. President? Would you mind stepping into this sciency looking box here for a minute for a dose of brain-altering nanobots? In ya go!’“
A round of chuckles went around the room, breaking the tension, as everyone enjoyed the imaginative scenes their brains conjured to complement Paul’s remark.
A throat being cleared broke the ensuing silence.
“I might have something for that last bit.” Said Emily. “It’s a theory I have been tinkering with for a while now, but didn’t want to put it on the table until I was sure it was legit.”
Instantly, everyone’s expectant eyes were on the girl. “Well, is it… legit?” Said Sigmund, eventually.
“I think so.” Emily lit up, no longer a shy introvert. “Here’s the gist of it: we make the Neurils follow viral distribution patterns, so we don’t have to actually make contact with the target subjects. We just need to get the bots out there and wait. I mean, even the presidents get the flu eventually, right?”
“You want us to turn Neurils into a virus?” Gaby was the first to recover.
“Yes, and no.” Replied Emily. “We can ‘teach’ our neurobots to identify bacteria and latch onto them. Every single one of them has their own built-in form of distribution, be it via moisture particles when you sneeze or cough, attaching to surfaces like door handles, or, well, bodily fluids, when… you know. Bottom line: we don’t have to invent the delivery mechanism, the whole infrastructure for it is already in place in the form of existing diseases. It’s just slow.”
“Virally infecting the world’s population just so we can reach a select few individuals. What could possibly go wrong?” Gaby shook her head as she spoke.
“Hear me out.” Emily wasn’t done. “We have a truckload of derived data from the scans and simulations that we can distill into solid markers that in turn could be used to identify specific persons or even tell-tale traits of people in certain positions of power. All we have to do is to program Neurils to run a pattern check on the host and eventually flush itself out of the system if it’s not a match. This way we have regular people act as a carrier, spreading Neurils further for a couple of weeks before clearing out. Easy, safe, and besides, we’re not actually going to do it anyway, it’s just a game, remember?”
“That would take a critical mass of Neurils.” It was Sigmund’s turn to question the plan. “There’s no way we, or anyone else for that matter, can print so many neurobots to infect the whole population of the World. Yet, something tells me you wouldn’t be telling us this unless you had a solution.”
“Indeed.” An uncharacteristic grin crept into Emily’s face. “Neuril is not some kind of complex robot machine. It’s just a set of basic components, easily replicable. Each one could carry a sort of a configuration echo—not a full set of assembly instructions, but a tiny structural cue that nudges available ‘feedstock’ like proteins to fold into partial modules, which in turn assemble into a full-fledged working unit when they eventually bump into each other.”
“Hm, Neurils can already affect their environment. Coding in the `configuration echo` routine shouldn’t be that hard.” Paul mused, scratching his beard.
“Well, fuck me sideways!” Said Sigmund. “Seems we found our missing piece.”
I love that their solution is basically starting a pandemic to get to the world leaders 🤣 Beautifully unregulated science and I’m totally here for it.
The Mr President line is my favorite! So interested in this concept.