Eric sat in his office; his door was slightly ajar. He sighed as he looked out the window, at the overhead view of decay and desperation. Even at this height, he could see trash strewn around the streets, some of it blowing in the wind, forming lazy tornadoes that dissipated quickly. “My God,” he muttered to himself. “What have I gotten myself into?”
He gazed into his phone, and a smile crept over his face. “Time to find out!” He brought up his contacts, filtered it by family, and punched an entry near the bottom. It rang several times before being answered.
Eric was met with a pregnant silence, then a voice spoke. “Eric? Is that really you?”
“Uncle Sam!” Eric gushed. “It’s been a long time! How have you been? How’s Aunt Angie doing?”
“What do you want?” Sam’s voice seemed nonplussed.
“Do you have some time? There’s something I really want to discuss with you.”
“There is? We have something to say to each other?” Sam countered. “It’s literally been years. You went your way, I went mine. You got yourself a fancy business degree, put on a suit, and now you’re the Wolf Of 7th Street, or wherever the heck your office is.”
“That’s all true,” Eric agreed. “But I’m still the same person inside! I remember how well we used to get along, especially during my teenage years.”
“How can I forget?” Sam replied, sounding pained. “Like some of the stuff you and your friends would get into. I can’t believe you got away with it.”
“And I can’t believe you suggested it!” Eric laughed.
“I did, didn’t I,” Sam groaned.
“Hey, let’s not mince words here,” Eric ribbed. “You paid us for some of it!”
Eric could hear Sam wince. “Yeah, I admit, I had a lot of responsibility. But what did you do with it? Seriously, I never saw you as the businessman type. You had all the makings of a wild-eyed rebel, but traded it for a company car and an expense account.” Sam’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “How’s the view from your office?”
“Hey, don’t sell me short, Sam!” Eric protested. “You’ve always been something of a mad scientist; how is that fundamentally different from being a mad financier? Same mentality, different field!”
There was a pause. “I might concede that.”
“I might walk like a duck, talk like a duck…even quack like a duck…but that doesn’t mean I’m a duck.” Eric eyes twinkled. “I could be a loon.”
Sam laughed. “OK, this is starting to sound like the nutball nephew I used to know.”
“I really am, I promise!” Eric pleaded. “And I can’t wait to tell you why I called you. You won’t believe it.”
“You’re right, I don’t believe it,” Sam quipped. “So what is it?”
“So, I mean this as diplomatically as possible,” Eric assured, “but…how is your career going?”
Sam let out a long sigh. “About as well as can be expected. I still think it was the right decision to sell my business and get a corporate job. But that was years ago, and the tedium and powerlessness have really gotten on my nerves. Even more so, lately.”
“Not much room for growth, is there,” Eric sympathized.
“There’s not a lot of imagination among our so-called leadership,” Sam related. “They won’t fund any project that isn’t absolutely a sure thing, which kind of defeats the purpose of doing research and development. Support for even the most promising project dries up whenever they need to ‘make their numbers’. And if by some miracle we can preserve funding long enough to actually complete something, our competition has run circles around us, and already has the market locked up. And don’t even get me started on the piffling raises, or how smooth-talking grifters get all the promotions.”
“Hey, you knew what you were signing up for,” Eric reminded. “Glacial progress at best, in exchange for your paychecks not bouncing.”
“I try to tell myself everything is OK,” Sam confessed, “but my career really wears on me sometimes. I wish there was an alternative.”
“What if I told you there was?” Eric trilled.
Eric could hear Sam snort in surprise. “What? At your hedge fund? Doing what? Shaving microseconds off transaction times? Trying to speed up cryptocurrency-mining apps? My job might be a grind, but working in finance would be much worse.”
“It’s not for the hedge fund,” Eric explained. “It’s not even for the property-management firm where I’m embedded. It’s for a spinoff that they’re funding. They’re leaping straight past small-town ownership…and are poised to take over a large city.”
“Is that what you do for a living?” Sam groaned. “Pretty much a big disappointment, as far as I can tell. The idea has so much potential, but no one is doing it right.”
“My feelings exactly,” Eric agreed. “That’s why I want to bring you on board. So we can do it right.”
“Me?!” Sam protested. “I’m not a businessman, and I’m definitely not a politician. What the hell do you expect me to do?”
“I have some thoughts,” Eric hinted. “How’s your research into cybernetics going?”
Sam let out a hollow laugh. “As well as can be expected, given no funding and no time. The basics are all there, but not much more.”
“The last I heard, you and Angela had perfected neural implants in cats. That let them communicate with each other, and with you! They can follow orders, they can effectively hunt in packs…you were even able to bypass spinal damage.”
“I’ve gone further than that,” Sam revealed. “For a time, we dabbled in completely repurposing cranial tissue. Angie and I actually managed to get a cat brain to unpattern itself; we then reprogrammed it to be something else.”
“That’s incredible!” Eric guffawed. “I had no idea you’d progressed so far.”
“Not far enough,” Sam lamented. “We got them to do some amazing things, but they could never quite forget they were once cats. They’d follow their new programming for a while, then they’d go rogue. Finally, we stopped trying.”
“That’s too bad,” Eric consoled. “That sounds like a really promising research direction. Too much for the straitjacketed types running the firm, I guess. But that’s exactly the sort of cutting-edge research I can use in my venture. I need autonomous intelligence for a lot of the advances I want to make. Would you and Aunt Angie be interested in starting that up again?”
Sam let out a long sigh. “Angela doesn’t want anything to do with it anymore.”
Eric gasped softly. “Why?”
“She had a change of heart after seeing her creations go rogue. She said she couldn’t justify putting a living creature through that kind of torment. It’s been a long time since she’s done anything in the field of biology.” Sam paused. “She’s a lot more bitter than you remember her.”
Eric took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry to hear that. Someone with her gift for bioengineering deserves far better.” Eric looked down sadly. “I guess you can’t help me after all.”
“Actually,” Sam corrected, “she agreed a long time ago that I can use her notes. She just doesn’t want to be personally involved with any of it.”
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“Well, that’s something, I guess.” Eric sounded relieved. “But to make this work, we’d need to find someone that can replace her.”
“I might know a few people,” Sam offered. “I met several bright young graduate students as part of my company’s collaboration with academia. They like to form short-term partnerships with universities, to share knowledge as well as expenses. But colleges are just as conservative; anything truly innovative is inevitably treated as a threat, not only to the status quo, but to the egos of more senior researchers.” Sam chuckled to himself. “But that doesn’t mean some of the kids don’t have potential!”
“Are you still in touch with any of them?” Eric asked.
“A few,” Sam revealed. “I recognized them as kindred mad-science spirits. We stayed in touch after one of these partnerships. I became something of an unofficial mentor to them. Sadly, most of that devolves into convincing them to lower their standards, and to become more cynical.”
“Well, maybe we can offer them something better,” Eric hoped. “What sort of project did you do with them?”
“Oh, it was the usual sort of overly-conservative go-nowhere retread,” Sam deadpanned. “It was what they were doing, on their own time, which was fascinating. They managed to grow neural tissue in a lab, and induced it to form basic patterns in response to stimuli. They were able to get some of their synthetic brains to play games, sort patterns, even learn rudimentary language. But the college cut off their funding too.”
“For something that promising?” Eric mourned. “What a stunning lack of vision.”
“It was worse than that,” Sam explained. “There was a significant amount of unstated jealousy from the more senior scientists. And for a few of them, an unsettling amount of sexism from the old guard.”
“I’ll never understand not making full use of available resources,” Eric pined. “That’s just bad business.”
“But how does any of this fit into what you’re doing?” Sam asked. “What are you up to?”
“I need autonomous intelligence,” Eric revealed. “Robots capable of thinking for themselves. Service animals that can communicate with us, and with each other. It takes a lot of effort to refurbish a city, and we don’t have the manpower for the expected volume of work.”
Sam sounded thoughtful. “I think these kids could pull that off, especially if I gave them access to Angela’s notes.”
Eric reared. “You mean you haven’t done that already?”
“There was no point, not yet,” Sam explained. “They already have their hands full being university staff scientists. But if they could get jobs doing this sort of thing…well, that’s a different story.”
“Are you willing to recruit them?” Eric asked. “I mean, assuming you’re willing to join this effort.”
Sam sighed. “I hate to be a wet blanket, but…how well-funded are you? I’d love to cut loose with some real research, but at the end of the day, I still need a paycheck. And so will they. The university might not pay much, but at least it’s regular.”
“Assume funding isn’t an issue,” Eric implied. “I didn’t get the budget I wanted, but I’m confident I can grow it far beyond the initial seed money. Your team’s portion will only be a fraction of it, of course, but rest assured, I have the ability to ramp up your funding anytime.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Sam probed, “how much are we talking? What’s your budget?”
Eric told him.
“My God,” Sam gasped. “I thought you were only a junior executive!”
“Keep in mind, I asked for more,” Eric reminded. “But we all have to start somewhere.”
Sam was silent for a moment. “Yeah. OK.” He laughed. “Hell yeah! I’m sick of rotting on the vine! I’m sure I can find several like-minded people to come along!”
“That’s great! I’m counting on you!” Eric gushed. “I’ll send you all the details in a few hours. You may all have to relocate to this city, at least temporarily.”
“I’m sure we can manage. But Eric…there’s something you might not be considering here.”
“Such as?” Eric asked.
“Well,” Sam began, “I think you’re aware of this, but you may not realize how deep it goes. The sad truth is…there’s a lot of suppressed science out there. Many workable technologies are not allowed to go forward, because they threaten some established power center. Stuff that has to stay on the fringes, for its own safety. Real solutions to our energy needs, snuffed out by Big Oil. Inventions that would cause governments to lose their grip on power. And more immediately…the autonomous cybernetic intelligence you want, that could lead to widespread panic about a robotic rebellion. And all of it kept in check by lack of funding. If you’re willing to support this…you could unleash forces of unstoppable chaos.”
“We already have chaos,” Eric reminded. “We have riots in the street, widespread breakdown of civil order, and common sense being cast aside for foolish notions. Besides, the chaos we’d bring wouldn’t be all bad. Remember, freedom is chaos put to good purposes.”
Sam let out a long, drawn-out chuckle. “I’m sorry I doubted you, nephew. You’re right…you haven’t mellowed out at all.”
“I’ll forgive you for using the m-word in my presence,” Eric joked.
“Then it’s settled!” Sam chimed. “I’ll start recruiting immediately. Any idea what our first project is? We’ll of course need some time to set up the lab, but it’d be nice to know what our short-term focus should be.”
“There’s an immediate need for two types of cyborgs. One is the construction and demolition bots I mentioned earlier; we have a lot of renovation to do. But the other is security bots. We’re already using artificially intelligent guards in some of our gated communities, but their record is…uneven. Biologically-derived intelligence could go a long way to solving that problem.”
“Going straight to the killer-droid scenario, are we?” Sam jested.
“Hey, I gotta be me!” Eric trilled.
Sam let out a belly laugh. “Wow. You sure know how to break up my day, kid. Looking forward to the details! I have a bunch of calls I need to make now.”
“I’ll let you have at it,” Eric granted. “I have plenty more to do at this end.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up.
Eric looked up to see Danielle hovering in his doorway. “Hope you don’t mind me listening in,” she apologized. “But I couldn’t help myself. I only heard your side, but it sounded fascinating.”
“Not a problem!” Eric assured. “Hopefully you got the gist. My uncle is an underemployed tech genius, and he’s got plenty of like-minded contacts. They’re going to staff up our first research-and-development team. I’m confident he can deliver the autonomous intelligence we need to make this plan really soar!”
“What was that I heard about risking technological dystopia?” she asked as she entered his office and sat down.
“Just a worst-case scenario,” Eric dismissed. “We should be so lucky to achieve something sophisticated enough to risk that outcome!”
Danielle chuckled to herself. “This is exactly what I want to be doing. But I have to wonder…why did you choose me? You don’t even know me.”
“You made a good first impression,” Eric disclosed. “I’ve had quite a bit of success over time reading people. To me, it comes down to a decision, whether the other person is who they claim to be, or if they’re hiding their true intentions. And I admit…every time I meet a new person, there’s a chance I’ll misjudge them and it’ll end catastrophically.” He settled back in his chair, making himself comfortable. “But I’ve been doing pretty well for myself. I have a good track record of finding diamonds in the rough.”
“Any qualities in particular you look for?” Danielle asked.
“Indeed,” Eric explained. “The ability to think for one’s self. The willingness to go against consensus.” He leaned forward and looked her in the eyes. “I don’t want you to only give me good news. I can’t solve the problems if I don’t know about them. And I don’t want you to tell me what you think I want to hear. That’s literally useless. I need you to tell me how it is, with no omissions or soft-soaping. That sort of cowardice is what led to the collapse we find ourselves drowning in. We can’t solve the problem by doing what’s already being done. We have to be different.”
“I can do that,” she assured. “I’ve been waiting for the chance to do that for years. I’m tired of being punished for doing the right thing.”
“I won’t do that,” Eric promised. “But it’ll just be our team against a world that still operates with retrograde values. They’ll still punish you.”
“How will we ever overcome such overwhelming odds?” she pined, fear trembling in her voice.
“Because I believe most people are decent,” Eric declared. “Many don’t get a chance to show their decency; they try to blend in for their own self-protection. I want to create an environment where they’re free to be the good people they really are. If we reach a critical mass, nothing can stop us.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Danielle gushed. “How can I help?”
“Right now, we need to find allies,” Eric explained. “People from all walks of life; we have a lot to accomplish, and need a diverse skill set to do it. Hopefully I’ve just recruited our first science and engineering leaders. I’ve been cultivating financial backing for some time; today’s board meeting was just one small piece of what I’m up to. But one area I’ve barely started on is political support. Granted, a lot of the plan involves sweeping aside the old order, but then it has to be replaced with something. Ambiguous terms and conditions can quickly go south without sober intellects to judge situations. And I’m afraid I’ve barely broached that subject.”
“Actually, I think I know a few people,” Danielle offered. “Quite a few, really. And they know people, too. I should be able to stand up a like-minded set of middle managers relatively quickly.”
“I look forward to seeing what you come up with!” Eric cheered.
Danielle rose to leave. “At the same time…I’m really enjoying my new office. Finally, a window that lets me see outside.”
“I’m sorry the view is so depressing,” Eric lamented.
“That’s OK,” she assured. “It’ll keep me motivated.” She gazed at the sorry scene below, and smiled. “I can keep tabs on my progress.”