My cousin Josh’s trial was short, as are most criminal trials today. His crime was simple one; he got drunk and got into a fight in the neighborhood tavern. Enraged, he picked up a beer bottle, broke it, and slashed some guy’s face open with it.
The trial itself was simple. The judge authorized a forcible download warrant. A download copies the content of a human mind onto a computer hard drive for examination. The examiner then determines whether the crime was committed or not. Other relevant information is also gleaned from the data, such as past crimes that were not solved by police, or a predisposition to crime.
Josh’s sentence was routine. He was sentenced to reprogramming. It’s a simple process in which the contents of the mind obtained in the forcible download are altered to remove the criminality and the memory of the crime itself. Unsolved crimes found in the data are removed from memory as well, and this information is used to make victims whole and close unsolved cases on police records. Once the mind data is corrected, it is uploaded into the convict’s brain, replacing the existing contents. Thus it was hoped, Josh was no longer a criminal.
Society benefits from this form of correction. Unlike in the old days, we don’t face the huge expense of incarcerating Josh in a prison for years. Instead, convicts like Josh can spend that time being productive members of society. The old form of punishment by incarceration yielded mixed results at best, with career criminals returning to prison repeatedly. Josh’s criminality and actual crimes have been deleted away, so now Josh can be expected to comply with society’s norms.
Like any other human activity, reprogramming cannot be perfect. To eliminate criminality, we have to eliminate a lot of memories, as well as values, and habits of thought. We’re still trying to figure out exactly which mind data constitutes criminality. We know that memories of parental abuse can contribute to criminality, but we sometimes delete memories of parental discipline by mistake. The data are so vast that the fuzzy logic algorithms used in mining the mind data sometimes miss the mark.
But, Josh’s reprogramming appeared to be a success. The post-reprogramming interview showed that Josh had no idea where he was or what he was doing the night of the bar fight. When asked some provocative questions while under telemonitoring, Josh evoked no memories of aggressive behavior and the telemonitoring also indicated only normal anger responses.
So Josh was released, having served his sentence in its entirety. This entire process took less than a week.
Telemonitoring is the method of screening a human mind’s short term memory to determine what a person is thinking, in real time. It utilizes the cognitive access port (CAP) surgically implanted into every human being at birth. Well, not every human being. This technology is not yet in widespread use in the poor countries.
The earliest form of CAP was cochlear implants used by the deaf so they could have their hearing restored or given to them for the first time. They utilized fiber optics and advanced software to pick up sounds and convert them to intelligible electrical signals. The fiber optics were surgically attached directly to the auditory nerves that carried sound signals to the brain. The deaf person’s brain was eventually trained to make use of these electrical signals.
Today’s CAP’s are fiber optic bundles inserted into the carotid artery at birth and, using microcamera technology, are pushed into the cranium, spread out through the branching artery network, and distributed throughout the entire brain. Every neuron fired in the brain is picked up by a fiber ending. Advanced software together with the amazing trainability of the human brain allows for a complete electronic interface with a human mind. Information can be downloaded into a mind, or uploaded from it.
Of course, to get the most out of this technology, one combines it other technologies. This technology has altered the human condition like few others before it. When connected to a personal assistant (PA), we can use cell towers to transmit information to and from our CAP’s. A PA with high speed Internet access allows a direct mental interface with the Internet. This enabled enhanced social networks to expand, to allow direct community thought access.
Gone are the days of reliance on vocalized speech or typewritten correspondence, with all their inherent limitations, to communicate with one another. Pairs or groups of people can share each others’ thoughts directly. Apps designed to enhance this process have become the biggest revenue generating industry in the world. The biggest selling app of all is Partner Enhance. Sex partners using PA’s can experience each others’ feelings and sensations during sex. Partner Enhance is an app designed to amplify these sensations. The two partners don’t even need to be physically together to enjoy a software-enhanced sexual encounter.
Schools and universities no longer waste years of students’ and professors’ time on lectures. A university education is now a paid download. Skills that once took years to learn, such as that of pilots, electricians, chefs, even sculptors, are now simply paid downloads.
Movie theaters are fast becoming relics. The entire experience of going to the movies can now be downloaded, including the experience of sitting in the seats in a dark, air conditioned auditorium. Enhancers to movie downloads let the homebound moviegoer experience the rush of air, bullets whizzing by, even the fear and pain felt by the fictional characters being portrayed. Instead of watching a crowd run from Godzilla, one can be in the crowd, running, feeling the searing heat from the attacks of the fire spitting monster.
For a time after CAP’s and PA’s become nearly universal, spammers and spyware purveyors had direct access to the human mind. Spyware was particularly insidious. A spyware could plant an irresistible desire to purchase a product directly into the human mind without the victim being aware he was being manipulated. Psychiatrists who had downloaded and examined minds were among the first to notice this phenomenon. A psychiatrist with special training and with the assistance of a software expert could excise these spywares. Legal experts and judges decided this was a form of fraud, and eventually Federal and State laws were passed providing severe penalties for violators.
Some weeks after Josh’s trial there was an election. The President, Jacob Fineman, was running for a fourth term. Josh had never voted before; he never cared much about politics or the news. But he knew he was excited about this election. Jacob Fineman, as far as Josh could tell, was the greatest President in American history. He just seemed presidential, in Josh’s eyes. He felt a stinging, gratifying sense of pride and confidence in the future every time he saw President Fineman on Internet Mindvision (IM) or heard him on mind streaming radio. Jacob Fineman was such a fine President that Congress passed and the states ratified an amendment repealing Constitutional term limits for Presidents, all during Fineman’s second term.
I thought it rather strange that my cousin Josh was so suddenly interested in politics. Josh had always been one of those seemingly numberless losers who hopped from job to job, drank too much, and seemed content or resigned to not amounting to anything. But not anymore. Josh suddenly was interested in gainful employment, settling down, and above all, voting. Maybe the Department of Corrections had turned Josh’s life around for good.
I was glad for my cousin. But I couldn’t help feeling a sense of disquiet. Josh wasn’t the real Josh anymore.
As I pondered this I felt a lot of things didn’t seem right with the world. In a short span of a decade money disappeared, replaced by electronic vouchers for food, housing, cars, recreational equipment, and PA’s. Everything is rationed and, so we are told, there is plenty for everyone. All one has to do is go to the store, pick up your rationed items, and leave with them. It’s illegal to enter a store without a CAP or without a PA turned on and logged on to the Econonet. When you enter a store, you already have been informed through the Econonet what you need. You are aware of it automatically. You simply walk in, pick up your goods, and leave. What could be easier?
But I just can’t get a haunting, nagging feeling of disquiet out of my mind. At night in my home when I turn off my PA to enjoy the silence, what I get instead are disquiet, doubt, and angst. Why?
Folks don’t use vocal communication as much as they used to. It’s much easier, more efficient, and more pleasurable to communicate directly, through PA’s. It’s very easy to forget that the communication is actually transmitted from the PA’s through the nearest cell tower and that the communication is actually mindcast on the Internet. In fact, one hardly ever ponders this fact until one turns his PA off.
I find the content of IM boring. There are millions of sites one can log on to. But there are only a few big ones. On UTube anyone can upload an experience to share with the world. Anyone can then download that experience and experience it for themselves. So many folks seem happy when they upload their experience. In the old days when people recorded and uploaded videos one could obtain all sorts of material. You could get reviews, positive or negative, of virtually anything. These days the reviews are mostly positive. The talks shows all praise the Government, especially President Fineman. Not one is critical. I remember a day long ago when many of the talks shows made their living praising one political party while excoriating the other, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Nowadays it’s all praise. The world seems to be getting more and more content. So why do I feel such disquiet?
Why is it so much harder to remember the old days when I have my PA turned on, only to have the memories rushing back when I turn it off?
One day a year or so later the 24-7 IM news coverage started spending increasing amounts of time on coverage of a breakdown in civil order in Idaho. Instead of the usual patriotic praise of America and President Fineman, and virtually universally positive news, the newscasters were downcast and concerned. They couldn’t seem to understand this unrest. How could Americans, they thought aloud, be unhappy to the point of unrest?
I could not contain my curiosity. I had to travel to Idaho and see the unrest with my own two eyes. IM wasn’t good enough. I wanted to be in the scene, to feel the discontent for myself. I quit my job and I went. I didn’t like my job anyway. We didn’t get paid money. The only compensation for working was some additional credit for recreational goods and PA apps under Econonet policy. So, off I went, hoping I could put some of my inner demons to rest.
Econonet policies had stated that one needed only enough gasoline to commute to work, and run one’s errands in his local area. Once a year, you could get enough gasoline for a 150-mile round trip, for a vacation. So I didn’t have enough gasoline in my Econonet account to drive to Idaho. But I wanted to go so badly that I walked, all the way from Wisconsin. I was still able to obtain food in restaurants in my Econonet account, and obtain sundries such as laundromat service and replacement shoes. Food, laundry service, and clothing were not all that severely restricted under Econonet policy. The most difficult thing about replacing clothing was not so much Econonet restrictions as just finding the merchandise in a store.
Along the road I kept my PA logged on during the day to experience news in Idaho, and in the rest of the world. Occasionally I logged into some entertainment programming, but it was incredibly cheesy, unimaginative, and boring. The experience of walking along the road in the fresh air was good enough. At night, when I was alone with my thoughts, and with my PA turned off, I felt alive and vibrant. My mind raced with feelings and thoughts I hadn’t experienced in years. The pangs of disconnection angst were receding, it seemed, with each passing day alone, in the countryside, and away from the net.
After a couple of weeks I found I was keeping my PA turned off more and more. The fresh air, the pastoral scenery, sleeping under the stars, even the occasional rain were like medicine for my spirit. I only needed to log on for an hour or so a day to keep up with events in Idaho, and monitor the weather reports for storms. I only encountered one event that is worth reporting until I got almost to Idaho. As I was strolling down Interstate 90 a Montana state trooper pulled up beside me and wanted to question me. I remember thinking with a chuckle, “What, am I gonna get a speeding ticket?” Once money disappeared, fines such as speeding tickets were levied in the form of reduced recreational credits on the Econonet. The new laws did not reduce access to PA’s, however.
The trooper wanted to get a long look at me so he could scan his cognitive police database for a face match, in case I was a wanted fugitive. “Sir, the reason I’ve stopped you is to warn you that hiking on the open highways is dangerous.”
“Yes, officer, I’m aware of that.”
“Are you armed?” the officer asked.
This was a leading question. Firearms were banned for all but those registered and licensed by the State government. You also had to have a Federal firearms permit. The application process took years.
“Nope,” I replied.
The officer looked me over and didn’t see anything that got his attention, like a bulge under the shirt at the waistline. “Why is your PA turned off?” he asked.
This question took me a bit off guard. How could he know my PA was turned off? I had heard that cops’ law enforcement PA’s have apps that can scan the local cell towers and mine the data for images and experiences that are in close proximity to the cop. The cop’s scan must have come up empty.
“Don’t need it. To be honest, I don’t particularly care for it.”
“Suit yourself, but be advised it’s dangerous to be off the net on the highways,” the trooper replied, “Just watch yourself out here.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said. And we parted ways.
I pondered this exchange. Why did he tell me it’s dangerous to be off the net?
As I began to approach the Idaho border one afternoon, I happened upon a group of a couple dozen or so foot travelers, headed east, in the opposite direction as me. They appeared to be roughly four or so families and a few stragglers. Their clothing was grey and worn. Their skin was brown and leathered. They were road weary. When I asked them where they were from they told me they were from the mountains in the Panhandle. These people looked like they’d been travelling much further and longer than me, even though I had come over a thousand miles already. I also noted that most of them did not have PA’s connected to their CAP’s. In fact, a few of them, older children mostly, did not even have CAP’s.
I wanted to chat with the leader of this group. We spoke briefly; he was anxious for his group to press on their journey. “Where are you headed?” I asked.
“We’re not sure yet,” he answered nervously. “Anywhere but here.”
I thought this fascinating and a bit unnerving. I knew that the unrest in Idaho was getting worse. The news reports had been growing increasingly alarming. “Why? What’s happening there?”
His eyes shifted nervously. He wanted to share his story, but hesitated.
“What’s going on in Idaho?” I pressed.
He replied after a bit of hesitation, “People are being arrested. Mass arrests. I heard that people in small towns have been taken and shot. One guy told me he witnessed it himself from the top of the mountain where he lived. ” He paused a few seconds. “Why you going in there? Don’t go there. If you do go in, whatever you do, don’t turn off your PA.”
I stood there and stared at him for several seconds. Turning and looking over his group, I could see that they were eying me with suspicion.
“Well, I’ve been on the road like this for a month, and I want to see this through, ” I told them.
We parted company, and I continued west. Shortly after I crossed the border the next day I encountered an Army roadblock. Heeding the warning of the group I encountered the previous day I turned on my PA. When I reached the roadblock I was asked where I was going.
“Just headed into Idaho,” I replied to the Army sergeant.
After about a minute that gave him a chance to scan the Internet for my ID he was able to identify me. “Why did you quit your job and walk all the way out here?” he asked.
“Just curiosity. Idaho’s been in the news. I wanted to see it for myself.” I peered down the road and saw a column of refugees coming east, much larger than the group I encountered the day before.
“Turn around and go home,” the sergeant commanded. “I can’t allow you in.”
Dejectedly, I turned around and headed east. After a month of travelling, to have come this close only to fall short was truly frustrating. After walking a couple of miles – it was late afternoon – I paused for a rest and to let the refugee column catch up to me. I turned to look to see if any of the Army people were watching me and, satisfied they weren’t, I turned off my PA. I figured I would join the refugee column and travel with them for as long as they stayed on Interstate 90 headed east.
I camped for the night right there because the refugee column had not caught up to me. Lying under the stars I reflected upon my experience with the state trooper, the group of travelers, and the Army sergeant. What’s happening to America? Why is travel restricted to an entire state, reinforced by Army roadblocks? What about the stories I’d heard of American citizens being lined up and shot? In spite of the beautiful night, fresh air, and exhaustion from my travels on foot, I tossed and turned and didn’t sleep well.
When the refugee column caught up to me the next day they allowed me to join them. These poor souls had been through hell. They looked like refugees fleeing from war zones I saw in history books and on TV many years ago. The stories they had to tell were horrific. There was starvation, mass arrests, and mass killings by the Army and police. One thing I noticed was that, like the first group I encountered, many of these refugees didn’t have PA’s or CAP’s.
This latter caught my attention. I had thought CAP’s and PA’s were universal in America and most of the civilized world. These conveniences are available in unlimited quantity and free of charge on the Econonet. In fact it had become standard practice in the public hospitals years ago that all newborn infants were fitted with a CAP. Evidently in Idaho, CAP’s hadn’t caught on, at least not with some folks.
That first afternoon when I turned on my PA to catch up with events in Idaho I experienced the happy news that the unrest was finally easing. Happy, patriotic citizens were carrying the day. Those that had been rioting were calming down. Analysis of this happy news drew the conclusion that this unrest was just an aberration, just an inexplicable mass hysteria. As I heard this news I felt joyous that everything was going to be just fine in Idaho and America. I was even forgetting the dissonance I felt at the strange stories of human rights violations in America I had recently heard conflicting with this evidence coming in from the IM news. For the first time in days I was in a very good mood.
One of my fellow refugees approached me and suggested I turn off my PA. I really didn’t want to. I wanted to continue hearing up-to-the- minute updates on the great news of improving conditions in Idaho. But he eventually persuaded me to turn it off.
As soon as I turned off my PA my mood soured all over again. “Why did you have me turn that off?” I demanded to know.
“You’re in a sour mood now aren’t you?” He replied with a question. He was right. I was nonplussed. How could simply turning off my PA put me in a bad mood just like that?
“Now turn it back on,” he said. And while you turn it back on, try to remember how you feel right now.”
“Okay.” So I turned it back on. My head was filled with the happy news that the situation in Idaho was stabilizing. I was feeling good again. I couldn’t quite remember why I had turned it off in the first place. It was like trying to remember the dream you woke up with that morning. I had forgotten the memory in spite of the fact that I had resolved to remember it.
“Now turn it back off,” he said. So I did. Just then I remembered why I had turned it off in the first place. Also, my feelings of joy and patriotism were receding like a dream forgotten.
My counterpart smiled, as if watching someone grasp a concept he had been tutoring them on. I was thunderstruck. It now entered into my realm of reality that a malware had been planted in my PA, manipulating my mind. The IM, the Internet, my patriotic feelings while experiencing 24-7 news – these were all lies! I vowed never to turn on my PA again.
I was about to throw my PA out into the meadow off the road when my friend stopped me. “How will you acquire food and other necessities without your PA?” he asked rhetorically. “Let’s jack a two-way,” he ordered. It was not a suggestion. A two-way is an app that allows direct mind-to-mind communication with no enhancements. It is memory to memory, cognition to cognition, feelings to feelings.
So we turned on our PA’s and immediately began our two-way communication.
I immediately experienced terror and desperation. I was sleeping in my log cabin in the woods when in the middle of the night there was a knock at my door. I refused to answer, so the police kicked the door open. Helpless, my wife (my friend was married) and I were arrested, without being read our Miranda rights. We were taken away in the back of an over the road transport and driven for over an hour down mountain roads, as far as I could tell. Then, the transport was stopped, the back doors opened, and we were all ordered out. It was a meadow, an opening in a wooded area. I heard machine gun fire in the distance. My senses were sharpened to a razor’s edge, as I knew I had to detect any opportunity to make a break for it, or I would be dead soon.
It was dark. Clouds covered the nearly new moon. I maneuvered my way to the right edge in the center. When our group got within thirty yards of the wooded area one of the others in our group started arguing with the guards. This was my chance! Taking advantage of the darkness, the proximity of the woods, and the guards’ distraction, I made a run for it. A couple other men and a woman got the idea to copy me. Shots rang out, but because I was in the lead I was not the one hit. Someone fell. I made it to the woods and kept on running, until I was fairly certain I was safe. What made me certain I was safe was the outburst of machine gun fire and screaming from the spot where I made my run for it. There must have been twenty people massacred in that meadow that night. I resolved to start walking in the opposite direction, to marshal my energy and make less noise in case they came searching in pursuit. But there were no pursuers.
My counterpart immediately removed his PA and broke the communication. He ordered me to quickly do the same. “Their data mining isn’t perfected yet, but you only have a few minutes to engage in this kind of experience on the Internet,” he warned. “If those soldiers at that checkpoint pick up a message experiencing the memory you just experienced, they’ll be here in a New York minute. What you just experienced wouldn’t be electronic this time.”
The trek east, back home, was filled with dread, sorrow, and outrage. How could this happen in America? How can I drop off the grid? Our socialist economy has eliminated the use of money, and we depend on the Econonet to get food, health care, everything. They’ve implanted malware in the PA’s we depend upon to control us.
I began to notice things, and I didn’t like what I saw. There are shortages of everything. Gasoline is strictly rationed. Junk food, pizza, and other rich foods are only available on a limited basis. We get on waiting lists for housing. It all made sense. At my job I wasn’t given challenging work assignments. If I quit my job I could easily ask for another one, and after taking aptitude tests I’d be hired. People can jump from job to job if they like. There must be a resulting inevitable decline in productivity, which is why there are shortages of everything, except PA’s.
As we journeyed across the Badlands in North Dakota the IM news announced a new government policy in the wake of the unrest in Idaho. Henceforth, PA usage was mandatory at all times. It was illegal to have one’s PA disconnected and turned off. The unrest in Idaho was a direct result, they told us, of people being off the net. Being off the net fueled discontent. How could a society maintain law and order without the universal net community? The Econonet could not operate in an efficient manner. Those who were off the net were undermining the national economy, as well as threatening law and order, they told us.
Refugee columns move more slowly than a single man on foot, so the second month of my journey home got me only as far as northern Minnesota. This was where the refugees I’d been travelling with decided to stop and settle down. The vast forests of north central Minnesota looked like a good place for these independence minded travelers to try to settle down, out of reach of the encroaching authorities. I wasn’t so sure. Besides, I wasn’t that far from home. Before I departed the friend I had jacked a two-way with who had suffered so much jacked a two-way with me one more time. Afterwards, he pulled a flash drive out of his PA and handed it to me. “For good luck,” he said, and bid me farewell.
So I journeyed on. I desperately hoped these folks were right, and that they would be safe.
One morning when I awakened I noticed a line of ants busily scurrying back and forth, going about their chores. I pondered and watched these creatures for awhile. Individually, they’re mindless. But in their collective, they can carry out all the coordinated tasks needed for survival of the colony. Some carried larvae. Others gathered food. One group was dragging a moth through the grass, the equivalent of a group of humans dragging a jetliner through a forest. The secret behind the amazing coordination of these mindless creatures is pheromones. Ants leave pheromone trails during the course of their workday. The ants use their antennae to touch the pheromones, which constitutes chemical messages. These complex chemical messages actually fire the neurons in the ants’ primitive brains.
Until the last few years, humans have never been able to know what is in the mind of another human. Couples married fifty years can only surmise what the other is thinking. We had never before been able to fire a single neuron in another human’s brain. But in our brave new world of CAP’s and PA’s, that has all changed. We are now truly able live as a collective, like ants do.
When I got to the outskirts of my town I left the Interstate and wandered down the city streets. I happened upon a new subdivision that was under construction. This was not a typical middle class subdivision. These were big, beautiful homes. Indeed, they were mansions. Some were finished and already occupied. Others were not. As I made my way through this prosperous neighborhood I was seeing a side of our society I thought was gone. I thought that since money had been abolished, there was no such thing as mansions anymore. ‘From each according to his ability, to each according to his need,’ was the new mantra. As I strolled by one of these mansions that was already occupied, a young woman pulled into her driveway in a sleek, black 7-series BMW. She got out, wearing sunglasses and carried a bag of groceries to the front door of her mansion. When she got to her door she turned around and eyeballed me. I had been staring at her Beamer’s license plate, which was that of a Wisconsin state government owned vehicle. I wondered if the young woman was aware my PA was turned off, illegally.
Finally, I was home, having been away for two-and-a-half months. I was so sad. I left Wisconsin with feelings of angst, and returned with feelings of sadness and resignation. Life would never be the same again.
Another law had been passed. Due to the shortages of just about everything it was decided that scofflaws were to blame. Henceforth it would be illegal to quit a job without first applying to the government and being accepted into a different one. Unemployment was henceforth illegal. President Fineman announced it to the world over the IM and Congress had approved it unanimously. The talking heads on IM proclaimed it a brilliant policy. Unemployment had always been a scourge since the Industrial Revolution and now it was being done away with, by the simple enactment of a new law. Besides, it was one’s patriotic duty to work and contribute to the Econonet. It was a better way to get from each according to his ability, to that we could redistribute to each according to his need, no? The system couldn’t really function without the work mandate. Happy days were here again.
Within a few days I was overcome with the powerful urge to see family. Family is good for the soul. I visited my folks’ house, and when I got there my mom was overjoyed to see me. They worried about me the whole time I was gone. Mom scolded me a bit for going on my fool’s errand.
Guests were invited over, my aunt and uncle and cousin Josh among them. The first sight of Josh was a shock. He was wearing a grey uniform adorned with some medals. His hair was cropped short and he sported shiny black boots and a shiny black belt over his waist. I noticed an American flag patch sown on the left shoulder of his uniform and a United Nations flag sown on the right shoulder. I expected him to proudly show off his medals and his new life to me, but instead he just stared at me like I was infected with some ugly disease. “Why is your PA turned off?” he demanded. “That’s against the law. You’re unemployed, too. That’s also against the law.”
I had grown accustomed to having my PA turned off. The IM propaganda no longer interested me. I had grown fond of my angst, sadness, and occasional joy. Breathless happiness possible only when my PA was turned off. With the PA on, all my contentedness was canned and cheesy, like the news and programming on the IM.
But now I wished I had remembered to turn my PA on. At this point I turned it on, too late.
Within minutes, police arrived. My parents and relatives were all glad that I would be shown the error of my ways, and assured me everything would be alright. I half expected to be taken away and shot. Surely they would jack into me and find my experience with the traveler who lost his wife and barely survived in the mountains in Idaho.
There would be no trial. One element of the new PA law was that arrested individuals would be remanded to the custody of the Corrections Department immediately after the issuance of a judge’s warrant. Such insurgents were to be reprogrammed forthwith. Within a few hours of my arrest I was taken in handcuffs to a back office.
I don’t remember much after my reprogramming except that I knew there was one thing to do. Hidden in my basement I kept a flash drive that I enjoyed plugging into my PA from time to time. My goal was to experience this flash drive and feelings of joy stored in there. When I plugged this flash drive into my PA, I was filled with the overpowering urge to walk to northern Minnesota and enjoy the forests and peace and quiet. I don’t know why I felt this overpowering urge to break the law and journey unemployed to northern Minnesota. All I knew was that, in a back corner of my mind, I felt a nagging sense of angst –