then travels to the center of the sphere. The compression wave intensifies and collapses the vortex cavity and the plasma within it, creating thermonuclear conditions.”
“I…uh…I understood some of that…I think,” Craig replied.
The man smiled. “It’s complex. I understand that it is difficult to grasp at first, but basically, enormous advancements in computer processing power have allowed for precise timing of the pistons, which is necessary to control the shape of the cavity as it collapses. It adjusts to thermal effects and other variations that are difficult to predict, but it can compensate in a microsecond, which makes this process possible.”
“The fusion process?”
“Yes,” the man replied. “Each fusion pulse results in 100 megajoules of electrical output, which translates into 28 kilowatt-hours. What you see here is limitless energy.”
“Does the world government know you have this?” Craig asked.
The man shook his head. “We’d tell them if we could, but that would mean revealing our location, and that’s not something we are inclined to do.”
“But you have access to unlimited power. Surely you could fight them off.”
The man grinned but continued to avoid full eye contact. “Fighting is not always the best alternative. However, you are right. We do have enormous power.” He turned back to the MTF generator. “When this technology was developed, it was an incredible breakthrough and an impressive improvement on former fusion technologies, which required much larger structures and elaborate processes. This trend toward miniaturization continued, as it does in all technologies that become informational.” The man turned back to Craig. “In fact, after a major breakthrough in neutron shielding just a few years ago, the technology improved enough that it became possible for a person to take it along, wherever he or she may go.”
Craig’s eyes narrowed as the man’s explanation of his technology became more and more surreal. The boundary between magic and science had blurred until it was unrecognizable. “Are you saying you people have portable versions of that…” Craig looked up at the spherical structure that loomed in front of them. “…of that thing?”
The man continued to smile. “Portable? Oh, most definitely. You have one about the size of a small plum implanted in your lower back, next to your spinal cord.”
Craig’s lips tightened into a grimace as he reached with his right hand and pressed it against his lower back. Indeed, there was a strange structure there below his skin, deep enough to feel as though it were part of him, yet alien all the same. “Wh-what have you done to me?”
“Will you let me show you?” the man asked earnestly, daring to dart his eyes up to Craig’s for a moment. There was still something not quite right about the man—something off-center about his gaze.
“I think you’d better,” Craig replied.
“All right,” the man replied. “Craig Emilson,” he began, “
As soon as the words were spoken, a heads-up display appeared in Craig’s vision, startling him. His name appeared in the left-hand corner, as well as the time of the day and even the weather report from outside of the facility. He rubbed his eyes to see if he were wearing LED contacts. When he reopened them, the HUD remained.
“It’s called your
Craig was momentarily dumbfounded. He stepped back onto one heel before blinking hard. “
“Yes. You can fly now,” the man replied frankly and emotionlessly. “You can also generate magnetic fields that can both cocoon you and propel you. All of these systems are controlled mentally.”
“But…how? I mean…how is it possible that I can—”
“You’ll have to go through the start-up process and tune your nans.”
“
“Yes. I know you are familiar with nanobots, Craig. Like the respirocytes, only much more complex. You now have over 200 different types of nans in your system, and 4.6 million inside you in total, all of which are performing different tasks. Some of them are designed to transgress the blood-brain barrier and form connections to neurons in your brain. Some connect to the visual and aural centers so you can access your mind’s eye, while others connect to the motor control centers so you can control your powers.”
Craig’s knees began to shake, and he slowly lowered himself onto the cold concrete floor of the room, covering his eyes with his hands. “How do I turn this thing off?” he asked, outwardly calm but quelling a quickly bubbling claustrophobia.
“Are you not well?”
“I’m fine. I just want this mind’s eye thing to shut off.” He felt as though he were drowning in technology that he didn’t want.
“I’m sorry, Craig, but once the start-up has been initiated, you’re going to have to go through the set-up process. Only you will be able to shut it off once you’ve gained control over your mind’s eye.”
“How long is that going to take?” Craig asked impatiently, suddenly pulling his hands from his eyes and looking up at the man. The man immediately turned away, but in the moment before he did so, Craig had caught him staring down at him in a way that was so unsettling that it caused Craig to forget his annoyance with the mind’s eye and get to his feet. Something wasn’t right about the man.
“Who are you?” Craig asked.
“No one you know,” the man replied, continuing his custom of avoiding eye contact.
“Who are you?” Craig demanded. “What’s your name?”
The man smiled. “Would you believe I don’t have one?”
Craig could feel the hair on his arms and the back of his neck standing. If anyone else had answered the question the way the man had, Craig would’ve thought they were being coy or straight-up smart-mouthed. But there was something so unsettling and wrong about the figure before him that he knew his answer had been the truth.
“I used to have one—or at least I thought I did. However, it turned out that I didn’t.” The man smiled again, still not looking at Craig, instead looking away in the direction of the wall.
Craig was sure the man was retrieving some sort of memory—something that haunted him.
“You intrigue me, Craig,” the man said, turning to Craig as he did so and finally allowing their eyes to meet. There was still something wrong—something off-center, almost as though the man had two lazy eyes. “Like you,” he continued, “I have recently arrived here in this reality. Like you, I thought I had an altogether different life. And like you, I had to accept that it is gone.”
“You…” Craig began, a horrifying realization suddenly upon him. “You aren’t human, are you?”
The man briefly looked disappointed, the corners of his lips turning down in a frown. Then, oddly and just as quickly, they turned up into an impressed smile. “What was it about me that tipped you off?”
“Your eyes,” Craig answered.
“Mm-hmm,” the man replied, suddenly taking on the manner of an objective researcher, questioning a subject. “That’s to be expected. The hologram is not calibrated correctly throughout the entire facility, so I find it difficult to meet someone’s eyes perfectly when we are moving from room to room. Results vary, depending where we are. I tried to hide it by keeping my gaze lowered, but that only works for so long. Anything else?” He seemed hungry for data.
“Something’s off—just your whole manner, your reactions to things. You’re the A.I., aren’t you?”
The A.I.’s smile returned. “Yes, indeed I am. I am sorry I didn’t tell you at the outset, but it’s extraordinarily rare that we have new people upon whom I can test my progress.”
“Progress?”
“Yes. As of yet, I haven’t been able to pass the Turing test. There are parts of my evolution that are incomplete. I was hoping I could keep up the ruse a little longer, but there are serious flaws remaining in the technology, most of them pertaining to the holograms. For one, the frame rate is too high. Did you notice that I appear in too high a definition?”
Craig cocked his head to the side. “I hadn’t consciously noticed anything about your definition being too high, but there is certainly something unsettling.”
