The sub-orbital landed in the central valley, where a roto-copter then transported its passenger to an open field atop Kellogg’s lush, tree-covered island near the entrance to San Francisco Bay. Once dotted with precious Victorian mansions and steel-and-glass luxury retreats, the southern half of Belvedere Island had, under Kellogg’s ownership, been denuded of all but the few architecturally significant homes and transformed into a private Garden of Eden behind a high security wall.
Julius boarded an autonomous trolley that waited next to the landing pad—a small, quaint wooden box with leather padded walnut bench seats. There were inside and outside seats and Julius chose a bench on the outside, where he could enjoy the velvety air and smell the freshly-cut lawn and pretend he was back in England. Fog lounged along nearby ridgetops while sun streamed through the trees that lined the drive leading to the mansion. Julius assumed he had been summoned to show Kellogg what progress he had made on the headpiece, so he had prepared a brief, positive-sounding report and carried with him one of the better-looking prototypes.
While the trolley rumbled along the tracks, Julius pondered the many reasons why he felt the project was going wrong. He had begun with two assumptions: one, that the Martian device would be easier to replicate; two, that as a supplier to NASA, Logisen would have more immediate access to the headpieces. Both assumptions were in error. Now, Logisen was working on a compromise that, although breakthrough technology by any measure, sorely disappointed Julius.
The trolley stopped in a porte-cochère to the side of the mansion and Julius walked the slate path to the front door. Inside, he was escorted to the sitting room, where large windows looked out on the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge. Kellogg and another guest were conversing next to a side table set with fresh baked pastry and coffee. When Julius entered, Kellogg turned to greet him.
“Julius. I’m glad to see you. I expect your trip was pleasant, even though it was not guided by Logisen.”
“Yes. And we should talk about that,” he retorted, shaking Kellogg’s hand.
Kellogg chuckled. “Another time. More urgent things to discuss today. Julius, I’d like you to meet Alec Burian-Mohr, the analyst who penned Blue Note. I thought it was time that you two should meet.” Turning to Burian-Mohr, Kellogg continued, “I’m sure you know of Julius. His company provides the systems we use to track and network Marked people.” He gestured to three plush armchairs facing each other in the center of the room. “Let’s talk.”
They sat and Kellogg began, “Julius, your company has been instrumental in helping us track Marked positives and build profiles based on their activities, purchases, and associations. Excellent work. I think it’s time for you to understand better the importance of Logisen’s contribution to our plan.” He nodded at Alec.
Alec leaned forward in his chair. “Our plan was a matter of positioning certain pieces that would allow us to move quickly at the right moment. Telmara’s Affinity Campaign provides us with a communications channel to Marked positives. The Marked Martian Ancestry Association uses that channel to enrich the experience of being Marked; M2A2 provides them with a history, a set of values, and a shared identity. All of the messaging is voiced to appear like it comes from different audiences—but they are all coordinated. However, a major channel has not been controlled by our efforts and has inadvertently added urgency to our planning. You see, while I determined that romanticism would be a factor in influencing Marked peoples, I never anticipated the degree of popular fascination that would arise. The entertainment and documentary programming about the discoveries on Mars—especially World Media’s programs—have captured peoples’ imaginations and motivated them to get tested. Those who test positive have begun to bond, network, and separate from the unmarked.”
Kellogg summarized, “Things are progressing faster than we anticipated.”
Alec resumed, “The Marked social dialog is beginning to infiltrate policy decisions. Our AI distillation of meeting notes from community, county, state, and federal government shows that Marked individuals and Marked position points are entering the decision process in roughly 53% of the governing bodies in the country. The recent mid-terms gave us representation in roughly 25% of the House and Senate. And given the intel we have, there will be a Marked candidate running as either a Republican or a Democrat in 86% of the races, come next election. If this were a chess game, we would be positioning our pieces for the absolute pin.”
Julius looked calmly at Alec. “And what is the absolute pin?”
“We are messaging Marked people to believe they are more creative, more talented, and more capable than the unmarked. We have also planted the idea that they have been held back for millennia; that if they could just unleash their abilities they could lead the country into a golden age of innovation.”
Kellogg added, “…one where business is governance, productivity is life, and work is purpose.” Kellogg let a smile cross his face, then disappear. “The faction that Alec theorized in Blue Note has been cultivated and now is ripe for our guidance in the next election. But we are relying on chance, on persuasion—and people can choose to ignore our messaging. Right now, having 25% of the House and Senate does not get us 25% commitment to our priorities. 20% of the population does not get us 20 percentage points of support for our positions and policies. We need to cement the commitment. So Julius, that Martian mental lock is badly needed before this opportunity slips away. Where are you with your research?”
Julius reached into his briefcase and took out a slender arc of metal with a ribbon of glass across its front and small electrodes over each temple. He held it out for them to observe. “We are planning to lead with a modern design that is reminiscent of the Martian headpiece but appears just enough like technology to have broad appeal. We are combining the headpiece brainwave technology with groundbreaking AR eyewear that projects text right onto the retina.”
“And the Martian mental lock?” asked Kellogg.
“To be honest, we are still refining our ability to communicate directly with the brain, as the Martian headpiece does. The research is complicated but we are in negotiations to gain special access to a Martian headpiece. In the meantime, we are running behavioral simulations with a prototype that is partially functional.”
Kellogg studied Ross. “Partially functional?”
Julius felt pressure and was annoyed by it, but he kept his feelings disguised. “The prototype we have today uses augmented reality and bone conduction audio to suggest actions and behaviors.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Could your device do what the headpiece has done to Nasri?”
“No. But it’s a good first step…”
Kellogg frowned. “And the second step will be for people to get bored with the device and put it down. We need to take individual will out of the equation. Nasri had no will—you witnessed it, yourself. She saw what it wanted her to see. That’s what we need from you, Julius.”
The message was clear to Julius; Kellogg was on a timeline that gave no leeway for hiccups in the engineering process. “No one wants that capability more than us,” Julius replied. “But Logisen is at the mercy of NASA’s other commitments for the headpieces.”
“Julius. Talk to your people who are going to Mars. They are on a tight schedule because very soon the next mission will take off.”
“Yes. I know that.”
“And all three headpieces are going back to Mars on that ship.”
Ross did not want to appear to have missed a detail. “I assumed that. We have people with them on the mission.”
Kellogg smirked. Then his expression hardened. “We need to have a working model before the mission launches. Find a way to get a headpiece. Get Nasri on our side.” Then, turning to Alec, “I want you to run some scenarios: one where we have a fully-functional Martian headpiece on peoples’ foreheads by the elections; the other where we can only ‘make suggestions’ to Marked people.”
Julius stood and responded, “Even that will be sufficient for your elections.”
Kellogg did not divert his attention from Alec, but replied. “You can go, Julius. I’m sure you have much work to do.”
...
On his return flight, Julius spent most of his time in his private quarters, making notes, studying his prototype headband, turning it in his hands, placing it across his forehead and running simulations. Then he called the leader of his design team. “I just stood in front of the most powerful man I know and fed him bullshit.” He held up the headband to the screen. “This is just a toy,” he declared. “It doesn’t connect to the brain; it projects readouts from a glass screen. The technology has to get to where it performs just like the Martian headpiece. And we need to get there in four months. We are falling behind.”
The manager on screen was accustomed to Julius’ pronouncements. Instead of being intimidated, he replied with resolve. “We still don’t understand how the device ties into the Martian variant. We need to see how the real thing works or we’re going to miss the deadline.”
Julius hung up. He examined the headband, then abruptly stood and threw it as hard as he could against the bulkhead. The glass screen exploded into fine beads and the band bounced onto the floor. He thought back on his forced encounter with Nasri. He had underestimated her. She was such a good huckster for the Mars missions that he assumed she would smell riches and act in her best interests. But no, she had left without giving a hint of commitment. Getting back to Mars was too important to her. Or maybe being a partner with Logisen wasn’t important enough. Maybe he could converge those two issues.
...
Dunlap was at the bar when Z walked-in. She knew she'd find him there. His rugby player frame was nicely wrapped in a business suit, his beard a little scruffy. He jumped from the stool and gave Z a bear hug. The steakhouse was the favored watering hole for the NASA offices and no one in the bar took note of the two interplanetary superstars who had just embraced in the middle of the room.
Dunlap led Z back to a bar stool and ordered her a Manhattan. He nursed a scotch rocks. They caught-up on the paths their lives had taken since debriefs had finished. He had signed-up to be the liaison to ESA companies preparing for the Mars Colony mission, which wasn't that far off.
Dunlap ordered-up another Manhattan as soon as Z had finished the first and asked. “How’s your love life?”
Z gave her head a little shake. “Nothing to speak of,” she replied, laughing.
“So, Z, Queen of the Martian Planitia. What's getting in the way of the most eligible bachelorette on two planets?”
“I normally go from a plane to a car to a hotel to an auditorium to a car to a plane.”
“Yeah. But surely there are a few movie stars and wealthy executives along the path?”
“There are. Entanglements these days are complicated. Everybody wants something. There are the nice people who just want to meet you or shake your hand or take a selfie. I'm good with that. But those corporate executives you asked about? They couldn't give a shit about sex. They want secrets. So I've had to live like a secret agent recently.” Then she leaned over to whisper, “I de-bug my room.”
Dunlap agreed, “Yeah. I've thought of that myself.”
Z continued, “Then there's this whole mess about what it means to be Marked.”
Dunlap took another sip and then smiled. “Yeah, there are whole companies being started with nothing but Marked assholes.”
Z looked quizzically at him. Dunlap leaned close. “Last time I was in Jolly Old, I visited one of our suppliers. They’ll be supplying the infrastructure AI starting with the next mission.”
“Logisen.”
“They get two of the six mission specialist spots. They want my help training them to use the headpiece. Of course they would expect me to get them access to one.”
Z grimaced.
“I asked them why they aren’t talking to you. You’re the only one who can use the things.”
“Yes, and they think I can slip them the secret handshake. Logisen. They've created this creepy division that is only Marked people.”
“That’s the one running their space operations. So they have talked to you.”
“They flew me out in their sub-orbital, grilled me, hacked my tablet, then made me an offer.”
“So I take it you said no. I figured that was why they were talking to me.” Dunlap glanced around him, then quietly asked, “Have they shown you their training facility?”
“On the Big Island? No.”
“I’m not talking about where NASA trains. Logisen has another R&D facility outside of Phoenix. You haven’t heard them talk about it?”
Z frowned. “No.”
“What if I could get a tour for the both of us?”
Z weighed the situation. Is this why Dunlap wanted to have drinks? Was he doing a favor for me or for Ross? She looked Dunlap in the eye. “Tell Ross he needs to show me his before I’ll show him mine.”
Dunlap chuckled. “Okay. That’s the way you want me to say it?”
“Yes.”
“Does that offer go for me too?”
“Maybe someday. We’ll see.”