Chapters 2009

APPLAUSE

"And now, for the most path-breaking research by an undergraduate, the honour would be presented by .."

"Its gonna be a long night." Cherole stifled a yawn. They were sitting at the second row from the front of the eloquent award ceremony dais. She always sat near the front, except for the brief period under the apprenticeship of Dr. Elbis Zane, who always held the you got the best view from the absolute back, and prided himself on making the whole congregation wait while he walked the distance to the podium whenever he would get a prize, which was too often. She smiled remembering the on-stage antics her guide would perform, earning him the nickname Kid, which he planned to keep for life.

Cherole paused her flashback for a second to see notice a lanky youngster lazily walking up the dais. Funny how academia had become so ornate lately, she thought, the boy would be all over the newspaper's tomorrow, along with all other winners, while just five years ago, the only place it could be a top story, was a science magazine. Just one event then changed all that.

"Thank you Ruvan. Now over to the senior section..."

Cherole looked guiltily at Ron, who was trying hard to remain interested. She liked to think she was bringing him to increase his passion towards academia, but the truth was she had been to such events more often than she cared to admit, and was scared of being bored to death yet again.

"So how is your thesis project coming along, Ron? I know Prof Darwin can be a pain in the...I mean he can be quite demanding."

"Well, maam. It is as you would think ...."

The conversation proved quite a saver for both of them, as in what they felt the next moment, the host announced
"And now for the final honour of the night. Typically reserved for the most insightful and naturally the most controversial, THE Spock Prize for most innovative paper, goes to..."

"Its a tie."

"May I come in" , said Ron and started walking in after a moment's delay.The delay was perfected by his regular visits to Cherole. He liked to discuss out of course material with her, after his daily classes got over.

"Ma'am, today, Jack, you know the-hairy-guy, looked you up on google. Though he had other reasons to do so, I happened to take a peek at the results, when I found this." He pushed a stack of unclipped printouts, fresh from the printer, forwards. The top page had the image of a Black Swan with a red-orange beak which connected right to its eyes. The swan looked oddly out of the ordinary.

"Oh, right , and you bring this up because...", said Cherole , with a smile , which suggested that she already knew the answer.

"Well obviously, because I am interested in knowing more about it."

"Okay", the smile changing its form into a normal smile, as if the answer was not exactly what she was hoping for, but she was still eager to discuss more about it.

"I was confused when I saw your name with this picture 'coz I know that you are not a biologist. Then I read a little and understood that it was related to statistics and I grew no less surprised. I was interested in reading more about it, but then when I can hear it from you yourself, why bother with the print", said Ron as a last non technical remark, half knowing that instantly from the next statement , they would jump directly into a discussion on Black Swan.

"It was all Mr. Nassin Taleb's idea, a brilliant brilliant man. He was one of those who are scientists, poets, story tellers and philosophers at the same time.I just applied his idea to physics..."

An hour spent on the discussion made Ron have a new perspective on the world. That is what new concepts do. And with Ron's ever questioning brain the discussion entered newer depths.
For Cherole, it reminded her of the only other person with whom she once had a similar discussion. She owed the paper to him as much as she did to Mr. Taleb.

"I need to spend some time thinking on it myself. It was an honour to hear it from you Ma'am"
and Ron started to leave. He had barely reached the door when Cherole proposed,

"Ron, what are your plans tomorrow night?"

"Ma'am?" uttered Ron , surprised at what just happened.

With a teasing smile, Cherole replied, "I meant, would you be able to join me to the ceremony . I forgot to tell you that this is the paper for which , I am being considered for the prize".

"Of course I will and I knew"

:Baby what's that mole on your chin??? It distracts me...I can't concentrate on your beautiful face...:
Anything for you my hairy state..??
"State?"
:Oh why is everyone looking at me? Did i say that aloud or am I being asked a question? am i naked? no...ok this silence is killing me..i can't see it anymore.:
Suddenly a sound came - "In the formalism of quantum mechanics, the state of a system at a given time is described by a complex wave function....sometimes referred to as orbitals in the case of atomic electrons, and more generally, elements of a complex vector space."
"Good answer Ron"
Ron happily looked at his hairy friend who still had his eyes shut. He looked around the class and tried to give an expression that this was the most obvious answer. In his own vague sense of pride he again started following prof. Cherole.. this time with more rigurous head movements.

"Ron..ron..ohh..ron..great answer...aah do you know a good plastic surgeon?"
"Hey hairy guy.. who do you think is teaching"
"Ahhh.. Experience ma'am, it's telling me that physics is not my cup of tea."
"Then you might go to the canteen and find out what' s your cup of tea."
"No thanks ma'am."
"Leave."
"Thanks ma'am."
"My pleasure. So class back to the submicroscopic scale.."

Cherole... was an Associate Professor in the Atomic, Condensed Matter, and Plasma Physics division of the Department of Physics at MIT. Her beauty made her stand out in the whole faculty. Her students had "hot matter" as her pet name. She was tall so much so,that her boyfriend in college had to wear heels to reach her height. Not only in looks but also in academics she had no equal.. back in college she topped always and that to with a great margin. She was used as a spokesperson by her division to attract people and funds towards their research not only because she was the most beautiful but also as she was the brightest .She was being considered for the Boltzmann Medal for her research in statistical physics.

"Hi Cherole!"
"Hello professor Darwin."
"So when are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow night sir."
"Prepared...any speech??"
"Yes a short one.. but i still doubt my chances"
"Oh don't you worry you'll do just fine."
"I am keeping my fingers crossed."
"If i were the judge i would have chosen you the moment i saw your application."
"Thats flattering sir..."
"I haven't seen any of your work in statistical physics?"
"It's some paper i published back in college."
"Ohh.. under whom?"
"Dr. Zane.. Dr. Elbis Zane"

The Project 37 lab had the most perfect sphere in the world, unequalled in precision by any other sphere ever constructed, except the one that stood beside it. They were immaculate and incredibly similar, leaving the fact that they did exactly the opposite job.
They were marked init and fin.

"Sockets activated", declared Ruvan resisting his temptation to say "Vexatious Vixens" and raised his thumb to Sharon still one eye on Kensington. With efficient movements, Sharon took out the glass beaker marked Nanoarchium Equitans from the refrigerator.It was the smallest living thing which could withstand the temperatures of the teleportation.

After adding some routine chemicals to a drop of the liquid from the beaker, Sharon handed over the slide having the droplet to Edlie, who in the absense of Mine, performed his task of placing the droplet inside init. The magnetic levitation inside, never let the entered droplet ever touch the inside walls of the sphere.

Suddenly, when Kid asserted "FIRE!", trying hard to appear curious, everything happened together.A twenty eight thousand computers, suddenly stopped working, without the users realizing what they did wrong. The big screen flashing numbers , which were the calculated variables of the bacterium, suddenly went bright and then absolute black. Then as fast as it died, it woke up to yell FIRE! back at Kid.

Dr. Kensington knew that the experiment had caused the fire. He had killed the hen which laid golden eggs.

"A hundred" Interrupted an impassionate voice, as its owner, a lanky individual with an ever-present sleepy expression in his eyes, made his way into the room. Ruvan, one of the younger members at CTS, was the local computer nerd. Although still considered as a newbie by the senior members, unlike them, he was from the Y-generation, the folks who had not known the world without internet and mobile smartphones, and hence had a much better feel of the technological pulse in the world.

"Is that no. of victims, or no. of mutations?" Asked nonplussed Kid, clearly annoyed with the audacity of Ruvan of interrupting veterans in mid-conversation.

"No. of mutations, the affected machines are over two eighty. That's a lower estimate, we obviously can't get the exact figures." replied Ruvan, almost to himself, his mind wandering off to some other problem whose solution was alluding him.

Kid couldn't help being awed. He had seen lots of kids like Ruvan, genius', nerds, confident, but unlike others, this one seemed totally passive, unmindful of recognition. Yet, when it came to delivery, noone quite came close. His pet project, Vixens, started as a minor project in university, was quickly noticed and taken over by CTS. Now the virus had successfully affected over two eighty thousand computers world wide in under a week, and was still unnoticed.

"Just came to keep you posted Doc. Forgive me, but I can't be away from my server right now." excused Ruvan.

"The audacity of the lad" thought Kid as he turned his attention again to the matter at hand. Evolutionary viruses may be sci-fi delight, but he can't lose focus now.

Just 4 months ago, Dr. Kensington, a researcher from the Department of Defense had joined in the team. Mine was never keen to accept more people in . Kid wanted to have him because with him came in a dowry of millions of dollars, which was good for the company.

Government suggested that his inclusion as a 'team member', which everybody always read as 'an auditor', would 'speed up the experiment'. Speeding up the experiment is exactly what Mine and his team had already achieved, as demonstrated by their landmark experiment a week ago, and exactly what they had to work now to hide.

"Can't he be told that Dr. Debye just had a severe paralytic attack? ", suggested the young Indian tyro, who had been silent till now.Kid did not even so much as look at Rishi.

'...why is he asking for the bacteria today?... metal dots was a big leap after electrons!...does he suspect us?...' Suddenly, as if somebody had woken him up out of deep sleep, Kid jolted towards the center of the imaginary triangle formed by the three standing members of the team. Turning to Rishi, he ordered " Take Mine to your place. Be there till I call."

"So are we going to give a demo to Kensington today? " queried Sharon, in a tone that a receptionist uses when his boss asks her to work late, especially when she has had enough for a day.

Kid said, with a hint of a smile on his face."Edlie, put all the Uranium, except a little more than required for the demo, in a safe place. You know what can happen if all of that blows up today."

The rest of the ensemble watched on as Edlie seemingly communicated with Mine, giving them a thumbs up that all was fine. But it was not time for jubilation yet. Mine needed to be tested for any long term side-effects, any internal physical or mental instability. Dependable techniques for Mass Transformation was proving even more elusive than anyone had imagined.

"Are you still yourself? 53 years old, crazy lunatic, Mine Debye ?" shouted Kid over the intercom.

"You can't help the drama, can you? Yes I am myself. In senses. And you wish I was that old, my white mane is still more classy than yours." came a weak reply from the other side.

"Well, technically you died that time. Your whole body matter effectively vaporised and put back again. So even you can't properly say you're the same person." Kid smirked.

"That's a little too blunt don't you think? And well, even you sleep at times. Who's to say the person waking up is the same as the one who slept. What exactly is identity?"

Kid let a wave of satisfaction and relief sweep through him. His friend seemed normal on the surface at least.

It was Edlie, the only other woman in the team, who first noticed Mine's fingers move. She had seen them flex a while ago, but had rejected the idea , as wishful thinking. But this time it surely was for real. The first, second and third fingers rose and fall, one by one, forming a lively wave.

Edlie did not belong here, at least not because of her immaculate and slender appearance, the companies she kept and most of all because the way she hated science as a philosophy. The thing that kept her here was her addiction for numbers and her inability to refrain from the euphoric pleasure of thinking outside the box, especially in the domain of cutting edge technology. If she wouldn't be here, she would surely be an air hostress.

It was she , who had once talked about a ternary system rather than a binary system which would be the common language between humans and robots in the future. And just for fun had even developed a system and tried to teach it to everyone around. Only Mine was interested . It did not include fingers then.

"He wants us to know that he is ok", she said.

By the time she had finished saying it, she had also figured out that even if Mine could not hear right now, he would be surely able to sense a touch on the fingers. And as she paced towards the chassis, eyes fixated on the fingers, her mind was translating "hi Mine" into FING3RS.

"It was premature state for testing. He knew that, as well as the implications. The only thing he should be concerned about was how wrong his calculations were." Kid replied to the woman's question. At first sight, Kid appeared an arrogant snob, too critical of any slightest shortcomings in people. But at least those in the room, knew better. It was no chance or luck, by which Kid was selected as the youngest head of the research wing of the venerable Consortium for Technological Shift(CTS), a covert high level cartel of researchers, even the existence of which wasn't public news yet.

He was one of the star prodigies of CTS's hidden universe, his most famous - if not the most far reaching - achievement being the mind behind controlling the Drake fiasco for CTS five years prior, establishing himself as the prime contender for the position he now held.

In the 20 years of his working for CTS, Kid had observed various advances claimed, most of which proving boasted lab results, a handful actually having any substance, a few of which were even let out in the public. He wondered whether today was such a day. This was one of the few experiments he had his eye out for quite some time. The team was good, respectable, the claims cautious and ramifications extraordinary.

Misconceptions are every where.

Preconceived ideas, prejudices and biases lead us to them. For instance many people around the world who haven't been to , suppose that people in India still travel on elephants. In turn many people in India believe that people in London still live in palaces. The whole world shares this image for African forests - the tribes paint their faces weird, catch a prey and do the weird habuda habuda dance around the feather crowned king.

Even the men of science, are not very misconception-proof . Having seen star wars and star trek and having read innumerable science fiction novels, they believe that teleporters, if possible would be as easy as press a button and whoosh!.

Of the many thoughts that crossed Mine's mind, none was even remotely close to " Could I have been a guinea pig for a teleportation project,which assumed that I would teleport from point init to point fin (which were located in the same laboratory room )in a fraction of a second." "But the predictions got all wrong and it took an hour instead.This in turn left me in the jungles of Africa. In the absence of the receiving team to stabilize me , I could have fallen into coma, and now I may be dying."

It was Kid, who, even though never yet wrong, had not become complacent. He had remembered to put the tag right in Mine's brain before the teleporting .

They were happy that they found Mine, but afraid because they found him almost dead.

"He is awakening" went an ignored whisper in the small observation room. Humorous it was, to call the shabby facility an 'observation room', but given the short amount of time and uncongenial locale, everyone for thankful for whatever they had. It was the Kid's idea to call it that, and the name struck.

Anyway, what was far more pressing, and more fascinating, lay on the other side of the glass separating the observers and the observee. There, on a typical clinical berth, in the centre of a sealed enclosure, lay a human form, silent and unmoving. State-of-the-art medical apparatus monitored his vitals.

The ECG had just started showing blips now-and-then. The half a dozen or so attendees were all breathing deeply, no-one daring to hazard any guesses as to the outcome of the next hour, or the next century.

"What do we tell him once he's up?", braved a woman's voice, breaking the heavy silence. The question uttered as though open, but no-one was in doubt as they all waited upon the person in-charge, the Kid.

The sudden flash of light surprised the darkness, and made it skip a beat and die for a fleeting moment. I could not make out whether the flash was within or without me. It was a picture .That is all I could make out. Was it even for real or I just imagined it?
...anyways where can I be? could I have been...meditating! I could have been meditating hard and entered this place...or time or whatever it is?

No not meditation, I don't feel the spiritual vibe... don't feel anything...am I dead? What is being dead? I can think, even speak maybe! I can't be dead? Can anyone be?

It is flashing again. This time it is staying longer. And as it fades away again,I can see a T-shirt with something written on it. Why is it so nerdy? All mathematical symbols or is it in the greek alphabet? I could retain the them at the end, but nothing before that.

Can I be one of those mad scientists?
Wait! If I don't have any memory, how am I even thinking these things? Its like I have a dictionary but I have no stories to read? I have results of my experiences stored in a part of my brain, but no experiences to think back upon.

...Here it is
"Don't give it to them".

It flashed brighter and longer this time and as if something was just waiting for me to read it, suddenly I can see a ray of light breaking in at a distance.

I think I am moving towards it. I can't gauge the speed but I feel I am moving fast.Or maybe its because I want to. I have started feeling cold, as I am nearing the ...tunnel..wow! its a tunnel, like a wormhole.

So, what am i going to get out of?
A time machine, having just had a time travel for the first time? A coma, in a hospital bed? Out of my daily sleep, where i won't remember any of this when I wake up? or out of my new mother's womb?
Anything will do.

I am falling, falling into blackness. Is this a dream? There's no feelings here. No sense of touch, neither light, nor sound. I lurch, hoping to grasp something, knowing beforehand the futility of the effort. But am I even moving? I cannot say. I try to remember the last thing I did, the last place I was, but as I try to graze my memory buds, I find the darkness engulfing me. It is complete, omnipresent, omnipotent. I (cannot)see any past, nor think about the future. It is just me, the evanescent present, and my conscience.

But I am thinking, ain't I? I still have the power of speech! What else? I can move my body. The semantic and procedural memories seem to be fine. What is happening to me? Wait...why do I know this kind of classifications? I feel so tired....

How long have I been like this? How old am I?
Are these even valid questions?.....
Is this whole creation just my mind? What am I?

My brain seems to be in overdrive...it being stripped of its responsibilities. No sensory input, no episodic data, no worries, no pain. Everything is too peaceful, too bland. It can't always have been like this.