Devil's Plaything

the plot to create Internet 2.0 using fallow brain space.

The government stops the transfer of military and corporate secrets encoded in the brains of five veterans scheduled to attend a sporting event in China.

At least I thought the story was a blockbuster. For two days, the press went nuts with the story. The New York Times put it on its front page. But then the whole thing seemed to evaporate, victim of the rapidly diminishing half-life of the public attention span. Part of the problem was my thin evidence: no laptop or paper trail, no remains from the server farm, no testimony from Adrianna or Pete Laramer. I can’t find any evidence or example of average Americans or heavy multi-taskers whose brains have been compromised. I discover no evidence of a database of people experiencing accelerated memory loss.

But anecdotally, I see the phenomenon all around me. People forgetting things, having to look up their whereabouts, addresses, and phone numbers. And the incidence of dementia continues to accelerate, reaching effectively epidemic proportions.

I do find evidence of the government investing in a handful of Internet sites, casual game sites and media operations like Medblog. But all the investments seem to have rational explanations.

Maybe Chuck was getting ahead of himself.

Falcon went ahead and bought Biogen without incident.

Still, Medblog, where we first published the story, wins a prize. Polly gives me two new titles: Boyfriend and Senior Writer. I now make $85 per blog post. I buy new sneakers. She says she’ll spring for the college fund.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Vince says.

I nod.

The Human Asparagus waves and almost manages a smile on his still-officious visage and walks out.

Polly kisses Grandma on the cheek. “Whether or not your grandson convinces me to marry him, your great- grandson will take the Idle name. I wouldn’t mess with this family’s beautiful and strange legacy. What do you think about that?”

Grandma looks at us. She cocks her head. She looks like she’s going to say something. She pauses, gears grinding.

“Another Idle,” she finally pronounces. “I know something about that one.”

“What’s that, Grandma?”

“What?”

“What do you know about your great-grandson?”

She smiles.

“Oh,” she says. “He’s going to be very curious.”

About the Author

MATT RICHTEL is a Pulitzer Prize-winning New York Times technology journalist and novelist. His first book, Hooked, was a critically acclaimed bestseller. His fiction, like his journalism, focuses on the impact of technology on how people live, behave, and love in the 21st century. He won the 2010 Pulitzer Prize for national reporting for his series on distracted driving. He lives in San Francisco with his family. Please visit him at www.mattrichtel.com.