Wired - Douglas E. Richards [92]
35
David Desh turned his attention to the last forty-eight hours of his life. He had been drinking from a fire-hose but now was his chance to sort everything out. Kira’s analysis was right, as far as it went, but she had been too shortsighted. Doubling the span of human life in one fell swoop would lead to disaster. But there was a better answer than just burying the discovery and walking away. And it didn’t involve sacrificing the next generation. It simply meant expanding human territorial boundaries to adsorb population increases: it meant conquering space.
If humanity could readily expand into infinity, Kira’s therapy could be disclosed to the fanfare it deserved, with no concerns for its effect on the species. Not the pathetic attempts at space travel that were currently being made, focused on incremental improvements, but attempts at revolutionary leaps in technology, with inexpensive interstellar travel as the goal. Leapfrogging the next several generations of space technology in a single bound. Antimatter. Wormholes. Alcubierre’s warp drive. Tachyonic drives.
This would require the optimization of top physicists, perhaps with Kira’s even more potent potion. This is why she had failed to consider it. She was too used to working and thinking alone, too certain until she had decided to trust Desh that this was critical to her survival. And too certain that her enhancement therapy was too corrupting to be unleashed.
But it didn’t have to be that way. With enhanced intellect, there should be a foolproof way to assess someone’s inherent trustworthiness and integrity. Yes, the treatment led to a ruthless megalomania, but the ethics and morals of those treated would return to baseline levels when their brains returned to normal.
It would require teamwork among truly good people, but it could be done. Safeguards could be taken to ensure that whoever was enhanced remained under control and working toward joint purposes. Even Sam had managed to enhance someone who was already a psychopath and contain him for the hour. It would simply require a team of Dr. Jekylls to restrain the one chosen to unleash their super-intelligent Mr. Hyde.
He pondered the identity of Smith and Sam and their possible connections to Morgan, Kira’s boss at NeuroCure, and also how Morgan had managed to learn of her work in the first place. He called up his every memory since he had first stepped into Connelly’s office and let his mind search for patterns and connections. His mind raised a few interesting possibilities to his consciousness for consideration. Very interesting possibilities, in fact.
After a few more minutes of concentrated thought on the subject, the probability that he was on the right track continued to grow, although there were so many unknowns he was far from certain of this. Still, he needed to assume his working hypothesis was true and plan accordingly.
And in the meanwhile, he would attempt to do something about another discovery he had made, one that he had already incorporated into his analysis. To do so would require redirecting untold trillions of his own antibodies and lymphocytes. He wondered if his newfound ability to control his autonomic nervous system applied to his immune system as well. There was only one way to find out.
Sam smiled at Kira and tapped his head, just over his ear, with his index finger, taunting her. “While you were unconscious,” he said, “I took the liberty of having a tiny, tamperproof capsule implanted in your skull. With an explosive charge inside. Not much of a charge, I’ll admit, but enough to turn the inside of your skull to liquid.”
Kira’s eyes widened in alarm. The persistent, piercing pain from the minor surgery, obviously performed without anesthetic, served to make Sam’s words all the more chilling.
“I’ve set it to blow at 10 p.m. Eastern Standard Time. And it