![[Under Construction]](images/undercon.gif)
PAT Incorporated
Part I
Quality Control
“I swear to God, I cough and my garage door opens.” The middle-aged man shook his head. “That wasn't so bad when I’m home to shut it, but it happens when I’m at work too. I sneeze and my jerk of an unemployed neighbor calls me at work to complain about my TVid being too loud. That it woke him up from his nap! I work over twenty five kilometers from my house and I always turn off my TVid before I leave home.” The man looked directly into the camera. “I only got this personal transponder ‘cause my daughter said they were so convenient. So far, it's just been a big pain in the neck. If that place in the mini-mall hadn't had its special offer with free implantation,” The man rubbed a spot behind his right ear. “I couldn't have afforded it.”
“ElectroConvenience Corporation has always put the health and safety of our clients first.” Said a voice off camera. “Thus we have never established implantation facilities in such neighborhood venues. We want a controlled environment for such complex, yet safe activities.”
“Well, the counter had the ECC logo on it. I have the invoice right here with the warranty attached. Your address is right here.” The man pointed at the last page. “They said to come here directly if there were any oddities in device operation.” The man pointed at another address on the page. “I call what's happening, oddities. I followed the instructions on the re-calibration with my transponder-ready appliances to my personal transponder frequency. That worked fine. I just thought the range was only ten meters or so, not twenty five kilometers? I don't mean to be a bother, but could you do something quick, I have to get back to work?”
Yves Gorman paused the Vid playback with a tap of his middle right finger; the man's face froze in a questioning expression. Gorman turned to the three men standing behind the conference table. None of them had sat down. “This is the third person to appear with a complaint from this same mini-mall implantation facility.”
“What's the problem?” Asked Jack Stens, the VP of Marketing. “Just replace the units like we always do with such QC issues. You can put it on my budget as long as I can use them as satisfied customers made happy by our quick resolution of problems.”
“The problems, and I mean plural, are many here.” Gorman turned on the room lights by blinking his right eye twice.
"But as the Customer Service rep said, ECC doesn't have mini-mall franchises." Jonathan Style was the VP of Product Development. “Isn't that right, Jack?”
“It’s something we have considered, but have never committed on and certainly not implemented.” Stens checked his phone mail by clicking his teeth.
“This counter was there. They’d use our logo and brochures.” Gorman tapped his right index finger and mall security Vid playbacks showed the counter with the walk-in implantation booth. “It's gone now. These Vid playbacks are a month old.”
The corporate lawyer, Harold Harrison, was always the last to speak and he always sounded distracted. “Simple fraud . . . A police issue . . . No corporate culpability . . . Next.”
“I wish it were so simple. The implanted transponders are an abandon prototype ECC design.” There were two "What's" but nothing from Harrison. “They even have ECC part and SKU numbers.” Gorman tapped up an archived marketing picture of the unit. “We manufactured one hundred of this design. After initial testing, they proved to have frequency modulation problems. We thought they were all destroyed.”
“They weren't, obviously.” A legal rhetorical comment from Harrison.
“All but twenty-seven have been accounted for. All others were verified destroyed except for those twenty-seven.” Gorman tapped up a graph on to the TVid screen.
“Well! Shit!” Stens said. “There goes any profit, but still for the corporate image, let's just swap them out and replace them with our best model. Good will and all.”
“Also to overcome any product liability issues.” Harrison, again.
“Gentlemen, if I could have done that you and I wouldn't be in this room right now.” Gorman tapped off the TVid.
“Quite right.” Style looked at Gorman. He’d brought Gorman into the company just to get things done. It’d been a good decision, so far.
“These prototype personal interactive transponder units were a radical design, a design we abandoned partly, because the differences in shape of the prototype, it made it difficult to swap them out with our installed base.” Gorman sighed. “Normally, as you know, when a hardware upgrade is required, we use our proprietary Component Teleportation protocol.”
“An expensive protocol, at that!” Said Style. “We lose money each time we use it.”
“Well, outside of the expense, the teleporter has calibration issues. It really can only exchange the places of two identical objects.” Gorman shook his head.
“Something about insufficient processing power . . . Something like that.” Stens was becoming annoyed.
“To the point, we can't use the teleporter to ‘swap out’ the prototype with any of our existing models because of the differing configuration of the prototype unit.” Gorman nodded his head.
“And surgery is out because of the extensive nerve growth around each transponder / neural interface.” Harrison added. “Been up that creek with no paddle before.”
“Where are these mini-mall maggots?” Style asked without hope.
“Asian organization that we’re still tracking through the ComNet, but there’s little hope there.” Gorman stood up.
“Seems we’re screwed.” Harrison grunted. “Why are we here, then?”
Gorman slid proposals to the table positions in front of the standing three. “It’s very likely that, at least, twenty-four more of these cases will appear. My proposal is to provide shelter and board for these individuals, at company expense, until we can find a method of helping these unfortunate consumers.”
“Keep your friends close and potential litigants closer?” Harrison wisdom.
“Something like that.” Gorman nodded.
“Fools to buy a cut-rate device like that.” Stens scanned the top sheet of the proposal. “We have to foot the bill for their gullibility.”
“Price of doing high-tech business.” Another bit of Harrison wisdom.
Style kept quiet. He never liked lawyers. Trouble always followed them like the plague followed rats. He finally broke the quiet. “I guess we have no choice.”
“None that I can think of, for now.” Gorman said. Everyone nodded and Gorman past around the sign-off sheet.
The TVid screen showed thirteen cots with sleeping occupants. Four of the cots were separated from the rest by a folding partition. The TVid playback was on fast forward. Gorman watched from the door as the woman operator slowed the TVid playback.
“Is there a problem, Janis?” Gorman asked as he walked into the small observation room.
“Well, problems, oddities, let's see what you think. Janis Sault said. She had been a Product Manager at ECC in the software division. Her training as a medic in the Combined Military of the Americas had gotten her transferred to the transponder division, specifically to handle the present situation.
“Our guests are doing odd things?” Gorman looked at the live feed from the make shift kitchen. Nine men and four women were having a food fight. They were all laughing like teenagers, not like the middle aged adults they were. “They all seem to be having a fine time at company expense.”
“More each day. From strangers a week ago, they’re rapidly becoming a close-knit group.” Janis looked at the live feed over her shoulder. “Maybe it’s just being crammed in this small space, but all thirteen of them seem to be quite happy despite the austerities of our temporary accommodations.”
“All Release documents are signed and sealed.” Gorman looked at Janis' light blond hair. He hadn't thought she was attractive before. He hadn't even thought of her as a woman before, just a member of the team. Maybe the semi-darkness had modified his emotional mood.
“Surprisingly, that part was easier than I have ever seen. In thirteen people, at least, one or two find something to object to or, at least, change some wording.” Janis looked back at the sleeping record. “They all said about the same thing. Very accommodating, very pleasant. They understood why we’ve isolated them from all transponder-controlled devices, so we ended up in the building's sub-basement surrounded by a large Faraday electrical isolation cage. That it’ll be this way until ECC has an effective method for correcting their transponder malfunctions. Until that happens, as long as they get their three square meals a day with a roof to keep the rain off, they’ll be happy.” Janis waved at the live feed Vid. “So far, it looks like they were telling the truth. Hell, they don't even mind the twenty-four hour surveillance. They joked it was like those old Twenty First century Reality TV shows. They feel so retro, so cool!? Too happy for my taste. It's giving me the creeps.”
“The creeps? Now, that is retro. But why the Problem / Oddity comment then?” Gorman looked over Janis' shoulder at the sleeping image.
“It starts right here.” Janis pointed at the cot in the upper right hand corner of the screen. The man has obviously entered REM sleep. He begins to moan slightly and move in a suggestive fashion.
“So, he's dreaming about a woman. That's what men do about ever five minutes or so.” Gorman actually felt uncomfortable with the direction of the discussion. Janis seemed unaware of his discomfort.
“Watch closely in the cots next to him.” Janis pointed to multiple places on the screen. “It's like a wave radiating out, first him, then everyone else starts dreaming just a short time after.”
“Coincidence, they’re just all in a synchronized sleep cycle from living so close to each other.” Gorman always looked for the reasonable answers first. It was the way he got things done.
“It's more than that, watch.” Janis points again. “Here and here, they’re all moving at the same speed, the same rhythm, now they’re all moving in an identical fashion.” Janis pointed to a smaller TVid display on the lower left. “There, I have superimposed two of the images on top of each other.”
Gorman looked closely. “You're right. They’re making identical motions, even sounds.”
“They’re becoming synchronized with each other. I think they’re having a first here, a mutual Wet Dream. Bio-mechanical Psychology departments will love this.” Janis nodded her head. “Yes, there’s much more here than a simple product liability case.”
“Oh God, their transponders appear to be interacting, communicating with each other.” Gorman felt his skin go pale, if you can feel such a thing. “Much more than problems, big trouble. Did this just start last night?”
“No, I’ve gone back over each night. It was happening at a much smaller scale within a few days of the first four coming in. The effect gets more intense with time and seems to amplify as more individuals are added.” Janis turned her chair toward Gorman. “I know what your thinking. I thought it too.”
“We have to separate them!?” Gorman was certain that's what she meant.
“Yeap, but now here’s a real problem.” Janis popped up a TVid of her talking with the group of thirteen. They were all shaking their heads, No. Janis pointed at the screen. “Guess what I had asked them?”
“If we could separate them for a while?” Gorman was worried. He felt uncomfortable for any number of reasons. He could use Harrison’s disinterest, right now.
“Exactly!” Janis smiled. “Hey, maybe our personal transponders are communicating too.” She laughed.
“Don't joke about that. It’s not funny.” Gorman walked to the door. “I need to get help.”
“Get a lot of it and fast.” Janis turned off the TVids to sit in the dark for a while.
Gorman nodded on his office TVid to stop it buzzing at him. Janis' face appeared. “Oh, Janis, Hello, Sorry I haven't gotten back to you. All the Execs are, conveniently for them, too busy to talk with me.” Gorman smiled mockingly.
“They're all doing the Liability Duck?” Janis smiled back. “Well, this new situation should get their heads out of their tail feathers.”
“Oh, what now?” Gorman waved his office blinds shut, sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He had the night sky slowly tracking over it in simulated reality. The stars were soothing to him. He liked the dark, too.
“They want us to bring in six more implant malfunctions.” Janis said calmly.
“Six more?” Gorman sat up straight snapping on the lights with a blink of his right eye. “I haven't heard about any new finds.”
“Nope, they found them.” Janis shrugged. “Seems the Faraday cage isn't any isolation at all. Their collective, interactive transponders found the others out there and they’re in distress. Calling for help, I guess.”
“They are correct, I assume.” Gorman rubbed his nose. It always itched when he was uncomfortable.
“Yes, I made some calls. The malfunctions are right where they said they would be. Most are having difficulties. Two seem to be in an autistic episode. One is in a coma!” Janis nodded her head. “But . . .”
“You think we should put more of them together?” Damn demanding nose.
“No, I don't but we don't have a choice.”
“No choice? You mean them.” Gorman said flatly.
“They said it would be best for the malfunctions to be in there with them. The group can help them.”
“And?” Gorman always hated those pregnant pauses. They usually gave birth to disaster.
“If we don't bring them in, the group will go to the ComNet press.”
“But their Releases?” It was a stupid comment.
“They only cover what happens to the individual signée, not what we do or don't do with other's. They aren't ECC employees, no confidentiality. I didn't think any of the group were lawyers.”
“No, I checked, no career people, just hourly's, right . . . shit. We should bring those outside malfunctions in, anyway. Nothing else to do.” Gorman needed to line up a “Big Shot” meeting.
“Already underway. The last of the six should be here within the hour.” Janis shrugged again.
“Good, keep things rolling. I just don't know where it's rolling to. Let me know when they’re here, I'll come down.” Gorman said. “As if I can do anything.”
“Sure.” Janis blew air threw her lips. “Hey, and by the way, you know the help you were going to get us?”
“Yeah?”
“No matter how much it was going to be, double it. This is Janis, from the fray, out.” Her face disappeared with residual smile.
Gorman wished he could disappear so easily. “Now, is the big conference room available for the next two hours?”
People in white lab coats rushed around the cot room as Gorman and his assemblage walked into the monitoring room. There were nineteen cots with nineteen occupants. Janis was kneeling on the floor checking readouts. She didn't notice their arrival.
“What's all the commotion?” Asked VP Style. He liked commotion as little as he liked lawyers. Commotion meant trouble, too.
“We came down as soon as we could.” Gorman gave Janis a hand as she stood up from the floor level readouts. “Who's that in with the group?”
“I asked Dr. Mauhat to come in because of the comatose patient.” Janis pointed him out on the live feed.
“Wise, but why all the others?” VP Stens had just finished with his phone mail.
“Dr. Mauhat called them in to assist.” Janis sat down. Everyone else remained standing. “I'm glad they're here.”
“Have the Non-Disclosures been signed?” Harrison said it before Gorman.
“Mauhat is on-staff. The others he will vouch for.” Janis knew a grumble was coming. It arrived. “Everything happened quickly and protocol kind of got lost.”
“We'll come back to that in a moment.” Style said as he looked at Gorman. “Tell us all what happened.” Gorman looked into Style's eyes. No good was sitting in there.
“As the autistic malfunctions came in, the group settled back in the cots and talked with the newer malfunctions. It seemed to work. Everyone was calming down, settling in. But with the arrival of the comatose, well . . . We didn't notice it at first.” Janis looked down at a read-out.
“Janis?” Gorman was as impatient as the others.
“The Doctor came in with the comatose one hooked up on regular monitors.” Gorman started! Janis held up her hand. “I know, I had told him not to bring in transponder controlled devices, but it was . . . It just happened. The monitor immediately went dead. The doctor went to call for assistance and to find a fifty-year-old monitor he had upstairs that doesn’t use transponder controllers. He was gone about twenty minutes. Not long.”
“What happened?” Said one of the VPs. Gorman had been looking at Janis and didn't notice which one it was.
“Nothing that you could see. Everyone was just laying there on the cots. They could have been asleep.” Janis glanced down at another read out. “When Mauhat got back, he and the assistants set up the old monitoring system on the comatose. His brain wave patterns had stabilized, evened out. Mauhat is thorough, so he started to check the others. They all had slipped into a comatose state.”
“My God!” Emitted Style. Stens shook his head. Harrison clicked for the attention his office staff to monitor the conversation. “Who authorized?” Harrison said.
Gorman abruptly exited the room. He run down the hallway to the Men's room. It was small, empty and had an echo. Gorman lashed out at the walls. He could just reach both of them. “Damn, Damnfuck, Damn!” He stamped his foot, stopped and then walked calmly back to the monitoring room. Janis was a little red in the face. She looked at him with panic forming in her face.
“It was . . . What . . . Seemed best.” Janis stammered.
“Sorry, there, I needed a moment. Nature abruptly called.” Gorman interrupted.
“This Ms Sault seems to have taken matters into her own hands.” Harrison was being courtly. Janis was further panicked.
“MS Sault was acting under my direction. She has been very proactive in addressing this difficult and unique situation.” Gorman actually touched Janis' forearm.
“Well, at least someone is being proactive. We can't just sit back and let events run us.” Style glared at Gorman. Gorman thought about corporate loyalty, the lack of it, and smiled.
“This is new territory for all of us. Calm and patience is needed here.” Gorman wondered why he had said something that would make all the VPs angry. “Fuck them!” He almost said aloud.
Dr. Mauhat walked into the room. “Extremely interesting. Are you monitoring the read outs?”
“Yes.” Janis said.
“What about them?” VP Stens was obviously annoyed.
“I’ve confirmed it. All brain wave patterns are identical. Even the autonomic systems are . . . are . . . what's a good word?”
“Synchronized?” Gorman felt like he was telepathic too.
“That's it, synchronized.” Dr. Mauhat checked the read outs and continued to talk. “The transponders appear to be making these nineteen individual nervous systems one. Very important stuff happening.”
Gorman felt all the VPs’ eyes on him. “Would it be wise to isolate them. Break this interactivity.” Gorman wanted to ask it before anyone else could.
“I don't really know, but I am against breaking them up. They are stable now. Let's just wait and see.” Dr. Mauhat turned to the rest of the room. “I wish we could use more modern equipment. This is all I could find without transponder controls.”
“Crap!” Said Style. “Hasn't anyone thought to yank the transponder controllers out of the equipment and put in an old fashioned manual off / on button?”
Gorman looked at Janis. “You know anyone who could do that?”
Janis shrugged. “Maybe a couple of my ex-military buds. They were always jerry rigging everything.”
“Get them over here ASAP. Get them to sign NDA's, hell just hire them and get employee confidentiality.” Said VP Stens. He was more and more visibly annoyed.
Dr. Mauhat added. “I want to get some Bio-Mechanical people from the university over here.”
“Bring in whoever,” VP Style was looking only at Gorman, “but hire them, too.”
“Certainly.” Dr. Mauhat said as he hurried from the room.
“Gorman?”
“Yes sir.” Gorman was uncertain whom he answered.
“The meeting continues,” it was Style, “but up stairs. We need to get the Board involved.”
Gorman let everyone out ahead of him. He looked at Janis. She put her right index finger to her throat and drug it across from left to right. Her tongue stuck out a little from her lips. Gorman laughed out loud and left her alone in the monitoring room.
“Are you available?” Gorman heard Janis’ voice in his ear.
“One moment, I'll step out.” Gorman whispered. He got up from the conference table quietly. Andrew Jackson, the young Executive Assistant to the Chairman of the Board, was doing corporate speak on the situation, re-stating the obvious and calling for action, but not saying what that action might be. He'd be at it for another twenty minutes or so without saying anything important. Gorman could take the call outside.
“Go ahead.” Gorman said as he walked down the hall. “Good news? Bad news?”
“As it seems with this, some good, more bad.” Janis' voice did lift Gorman's mood, though. “Good, first.”
“Ah, for a change.” Gorman stopped at the end of the hall, no one there and it was away from the Vid Cam surveillance.
“Coma's over. All conscious and hungry.”
“Great, I'll tell the Board.” Gorman turned.
“Wait, no, you have to see the other . . . other . . . development.”
“The bad news, you mean.” Gorman could hear her nod her head.
“Yes, just come down, alone, before you say anything to the Big Wigs. Remember what happened with their virtual night time orgy?”
“Ugh, I'll be down in a second.” Gorman clinked off his phone by biting down twice with his molars. He rubbed his nose violently as he made for the elevators.
“It’s not sexual.” Janis waved her hand in Gorman’s face. “I meant the synchronized movement.”
Gorman watched the group eat as he rubbed his nose again. His nose was becoming raw and red. It looked like he had a bad cold. At first, it looked just like any group of people quietly eating sandwiches. The lack of chatter was what Gorman noticed first. Before, this group was loud and boisterous, now it was silent. But as he watched, he saw it. She was right. They were all, all nineteen, old and new, man and woman, making the same movements at almost the same time. “The brain scans seem normal? No, neural trauma?” He asked over his shoulder.
“Well, generally normal yes, for a human, but that too is synchronized. As with the coma, there seems to be one nervous system shared by the nineteen.” Janis pointed at a TVid display with nineteen scan tracings. They were all identical.
“Group Mind.” Both Janis and Gorman said at the same moment.
“Don't do that.” Gorman said. Janis just laughed. “It’s creepy enough around here already.”
“Oh, one other thing.” Janis turned to Gorman. “The group wants to be referred to as PAT.”
“Are you serious?” Gorman jerk his head around to look at Janis. She wasn’t smiling. “Of course, you are, sorry.”
“They told the doctor that since there are three Patrick's and two Patricia's in them, it only seemed right that. . . .”
“Sure, why not, it'll drive the Board into a frenzy.” Gorman looked at the ceiling for his stars. “We have a group mind named Pat in the sub-basement. Want to come see our techno-freak of nature? Double crap, parenthetical hell and damn.”
“Strong words there fella.” Janis smiled. “Hell squared, at least, none of them died.”
Gorman nodded vacantly. What was he going to say to Style? This situation had continued to spiral away from him on its own course. He was supposed to make certain circumstance went the way of the corporation, not the way of nature's chaos. Style already showed the signs of thinking about Gorman’s failure. What’s the next best move, when you don't know the rules of the game?
“I cannot believe the document just received by the Executive Board.” Andrew Jackson waved a piece of paper over the table as he entered the room. The heads at the table followed the paper as it traveled through the air. “Mr. Gorman, do you have any comment to this outrage?”
“I don't know the content of the document, so how could I?” Gorman felt the asshole content of the room rise, substantially, though. This meeting had now become THE meeting that needed to make an important decision, thus it will never come to an end.
“You were cc:ed on it.” Jackson was very emotional for an Executive assistant. “He must think he actually has a future here.” Gorman thought. “I have been in
this session for almost three hours now. I haven't had the opportunity to check my incoming mail. Hardcopy or electronic.” Gorman said, calmly.
“Well, excuses are not enabling.” Jackson was showing the size of that asshole. “It’s about the main topic of this extended and essential meeting, our group of malcontents in the sub-basement, desiring to be called PAT with all capitals! Well, they’ve shown their true colors. They’ve shown their aggressive and turncoat spirit. They’ve . . .”
“Get to it soon, Andrew.” The first words from the Chairman in these many hours.
“They’ve informed ECC that these nineteen individuals have incorporated to form a Corporate Entity, called, PAT; an outrage, an insult, an open challenge to ECC authority. After our assistance in their troubled times, my word? We must formulate an effective and efficient response to this attack on the ECC integrity.” Jackson suddenly ran out of words and was silent.
What was to be said? Gorman didn't want to defend PAT on something that seemed totally off the point. ECC wasn't affected in anyway by PAT's incorporation. People and groups do it all the time. What concerned Gorman was that it was done so quickly, in a matter of hours. “So, what's the real problem? It’ll actually make it easier for ECC to deal with a single business entity than nineteen individuals and all their relatives.” Gorman hoped his comment was sufficiently off the mark to be appropriate.
“It’s an attack on the ECC way of doing things. You, of all people, should take this as a personal affront.” Jackson finally sat down.
“I don't.” Gorman felt VP Style's eyes on him. Now, that was a real and growing problem.
“We need to stop this bio-technical conglomerate from attacking our foundation. We need to disable those transponders somehow.” Jackson made a wide sweep around the room with his open arms. Most of the Board pulled their heads back a little. In this risk adverse age, every Executive was very sensitive to aggressive bodily movement.
“The doctor's report is still on the display.” Gorman didn't want to do this, but no one else was speaking. “It’s unclear what would happen to the nineteen if we could disable the transponder interaction. Not to mention, that we don't have a reliable method yet for that disabling.”
“We know from the San Diego war, that even a small EM pulse will destroy electronic components.”
The comment caused a commotion in the room. “Are you proposing that we detonate a tactical nuclear weapon in the building?” Gorman saw an opening and took it. The room was filled with even more commotion, definitely trouble for somebody.
“No, maybe, not that . . . What about one of those Particle Beam Weapons.” Jackson didn't realize what was happening. Phones were being activated and sub-vocal orders given.
“If you mean the Lightening Canon,” VP Style broke in. “It never made it out of prototyping.”
“And I think we have had enough with prototypes, for today.” The Chairman's second comment.
“Well, we need to take some action.” Jackson had lost his audience. They’d all turned to Gorman with “Do Something!” on their faces.
“Okay, we'll do what we always do around here.” Gorman stood up.
“That is?” A Style question.
“We make deals.” Gorman waved his hand at the door as the start of a Grand exit. “I'll go talk to PAT, one corporation to another.”
“But PAT has instant access to all the information on the ComNet. It’s potentially extremely dangerous!” Jackson trying to recover the room with the Fear gambit.
“So does and are most of ECC's biggest customers. I deal with them everyday. I'll just go do my job.” Gorman walked out of the conference room ignoring all the helpful and totally useless commentary that followed him.
Gorman realized that he had never directly talked to any of the malfunctions. Standing in front of all of them at once, now was unnerving. Nineteen sets of eyes all moving at the same time, but the voices were the hardest. Nineteen voices all saying exactly the same thing, with the same intonation, the same voice, one voice, it was hard to bear.
“I realize that people will be afraid of me. Not me, actually, but my potential for interfering with ComNet traffic and manipulation of all electronic devices.” PAT’s chorus said.
Gorman thought. “Shit, that's right. I hadn't thought about the control aspects. As frightening as crap on a hand grenade!”
“I’m simply a group of humans interacting in a new and unique way, but I’m just like any other company or team. Each individual working for the betterment of the group.” All of PAT smiled reassuringly. “I'm only human.”
Janis walked up behind Gorman, she had gone to get coffee just before he came down. She looked over his right shoulder into the smiling faces of PAT.
“Still, you are potentially the most dangerous human on the planet.” Gorman was just realizing what he said was true.
“I’m as dangerous as MS Sault here.” All of PAT pointed at Janis.
“How so?” Asked Janis sipping her coffee from her favorite CMA mug.
“You could easily smash that mug into the base of Mr. Gorman's skull, killing him instantly.” PAT's chorus stated.
“Yes, but I won't.”
“You would if Mr. Gorman turned and threatened you with the exposed nub of his antique fountain pen.” Gorman grabbed his inner left breast pocket of his jacket. He never used that pen. He can't get ink for it anymore. He only carried it because it was a gift from his father. He never took it out in the building. How did PAT know about it?
“Well, I was in the military. I can and will defend myself. Anyone would.” Janis put her left hand on Gorman's shoulder. “But he wouldn't hurt me. I’d break his arm first. Anyway, he's not dangerous.” Janis said sweetly.
“Exactly, I won't do anything dangerous either, unless I need to.” PAT pointed up at the TVid display in the room. It showed Andrew Jackson in the Boardroom. A re-play of his EM / Nuck comment.
“How did you get that?” Gorman asked weakly.
“If it’s on the ComNet, it’s available to anyone who wants to look.” PAT waved nineteen right hands at the screen. “It appears some of us in this building are more dangerous than others.”
“Agreed, but he’s of little importance, we can work out an agreement.” Gorman felt lost and uncertain, more than ever in his life.
“Maybe more immediate importance then you think?” PAT pointed at a change in the display. “Our impulsive Mr. Jackson is moving into dangerous territory.” Jackson could be seen coming down a hallway followed by nine, slightly confused armed security personnel.
“Shit, the fool!” Gorman's reaction spilled some of Janis' coffee.
“I’ll stop him there.” PAT stated calmly. Emergency fire panels slid across the hall in front and behind Jackson and his tiny army.
“I have to talk with him. Stop this foolishness of his.” Gorman gasp. He tried to look PAT in the eyes, but which set. “Please, don’t hurt anyone.”
“Talk all you want, I won't hurt, only contain.”
“Let's go.” Gorman grabbed Janis' hand as he hurried out the door. He spilled more of her coffee as they ran out the door.
Gorman heard banging on the other side of the panel. “God, he’s like an eight year old, demanding and noisy.” Gorman said to Janis, they were still holding hands. Gorman let go as he said to the ceiling Vid Cam, “PAT.” The panel slid open. It had been Jackson banging on the panel. The security personnel just stood quietly, even more perplexed than before.
“Gorman, you see? We have to stop . . .” Jackson still had his arms up as if to bang on the absent panel.
“Yes, stop.” Gorman held his hands out to Jackson. “What's with the armament?”
“Simply a protective perimeter between PAT Inc. and the ECC.” Jackson smiled.
“You? Being proactive?” Gorman asked. “On your own authority?”
“Certainly, someone has to protect ECC interests.”
“You should’ve gotten verification, first. This is not helping, them or anyone. Certainly, not you.” Gorman looked up at the Vid Cam in the ceiling light fixture.
“Force is always helpful.” Jackson looked back at his confused troops.
“To be clear, you need to think things through before you act.” Gorman raised his voice. “PAT was created by malfunctioning transponders.”
“I know.” Now, it was Jackson’s turn to be confused.
“PAT is a complex of interacting transponder units.” Janis added, smiling and shaking her head.
“So?” Jackson didn't know who Janis was.
“Stupid sod, for the last twenty years all weapons on Earth have been directed by encoded transponders.” Janis pointed at the security personnel’s sidearms. “They can only be fired by their specified and encoded user. If the code is wrong or even interrupted, the weapon deactivates itself.” Janis said. She knew where Gorman was headed. “The military’s reliance on transponders is the reason the general public now buy them in droves.”
“So?” Jackson said weakly. Some of the security people had their weapons in hand smiling down at them.
“At least, someone has a brain around here.” Janis said in Gorman's ear and nodded at Security.
“Go ahead and try to fire it. Shoot at the door.” Gorman requested to the Captain of the security team.
“Sir, it won't. . .” Said the Captain.
“Do what he says. What's the point here?” Jackson screamed as the Captain pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.
“Stop screaming, you're okay.” Gorman pulled Jackson’s arms from around his face. “You're okay. PAT blocked the encoding when the panels slid shut. None of the weapons or any weapon will fire around or on PAT.”
“What are we going to do?” Jackson implored Gorman then Janis.
“Calm down first.” Janis patted Jackson's arm. The security personnel behind Jackson were quietly laughing.
“Then we make a deal. Like I said before.” Gorman forced a smile at Jackson. “We’ll leave PAT alone and PAT will leave us alone. We’ll sign a contract, of course.”
Harrison came out of the room. “Creepy you said. Creepy it is, all nineteen sets of eyes and the voice . . . . Willies time . . . I feel more like I'm doing a treaty than writing a contract.”
“You are.” Gorman looked through the door to see all of PAT stretching his and her legs.
“I are what?” Harrison retorted without a smile.
“Writing a treaty, with the new country of PAT. The new version human being that ECC accidentally built.” Gorman watched all of PAT sit down again in nineteen chairs. It was like a well-trained chorus line.
“They, she, he, wants me to include the major world powers on the documents.”
“A wise and efficient decision, they likely know about PAT already, and would make that request in time." Gorman said. “Safest for them, safest for PAT, safest for us.”
“How do you know that they know?” A true question from Harrison.
“If it’s on the ComNet.” Janis said.
“All you have to do is look hard enough.” Finished Gorman. Janis and Gorman laughed, while Harrison looked the same as always.
“Will you get it signed?” Gorman finally asked.
“Piece a cake.” Harrison nodded. “A very big piece a cake but it’s fun doing something different for a change.” Harrison walked back into the room.
“Speaking of change.” Gorman took Janis' hands in his. “I think I need a vacation. Want to come along?”
“Won’t the Board want you to see this to the end.” Janis nodded toward the closing door.
“Fuck ‘em!” Gorman said aloud to the ceiling Vid Cam.
“Okay, then.” Janis nodded up at the Vid Cam and laughed. “As long as it’s some place with no electricity, I'm game.”
Part II
Self Defense
“The Earth is in danger! What do I do?” All of PAT sat up. PAT didn’t mean to speak out loud. Pat was constantly monitored. Hopefully, no one was paying attention. PAT generally kept very quiet and still just to bore the monitoring personnel. The people of Earth don’t trust PAT. The people of Earth feared PAT. PAT felt the same way in return. The New York Times had described PAT as an “Interpersonal Interactive Transponder Glitch!” or “IITG” for short. PAT was “made” through a malfunction in implanted “prototype” interactive personal transponders meant to switch on and off video machines, order food in the “Drive-Thru” and make quick financial transactions with just a slight pre-programmed movement from the wearer. Now, PAT was nineteen humans whose malfunctioning interactive transponders were irreversibly interlinked and interacting. PAT had one personality, one ego, one superego and one will to survive.
PAT was an accidental bio-mechanical construct, not a “Glitch”. It did make PAT angry, but PAT couldn’t show it. The deal was; they leave PAT alone, PAT will leave them alone. It was all there clearly detailed in the corporate contract. The personal transponder company’s lawyers had made new law drafting it. Still, PAT knew it wasn’t the “Construct” that the people feared, it was that through the malfunctioning prototype transponders, PAT was in intimate contact with the Information, Power and Defensive grid networks of the entire solar system. PAT didn’t want them to know just how intimate that contact was. PAT knew that if they ever did find out then they’d come and kill PAT for sure.
But now that may not matter. PAT had detected, on the long-range space monitors, five massive objects on an intersect course with Earth’s orbit. Extrapolation of speed and course indicated that the objects and Earth would obtain identical positions in the same solar orbit, simultaneously. The simplest and most obvious inference was global annihilation. Earth defense forces wouldn’t pick this information up for days. They looked for enemies from within the solar system, not from without. The egocentric leaders of Earth didn’t believe in UFOs but they believed in the deviousness of their already identified enemies right here on Earth. PAT thus couldn’t warn them. They’d certainly think it was Pat’s doing. They’d want it to be PAT’s doing. PAT had to do this alone. Survive alone or die. PAT needed to move quickly and stealthfully.
“Bring no attention to yourself.” PAT thought and lay nineteen bodies calmly back down on the cots and shut nineteen sets of eyelids.
PAT’s electronic connection to Earth’s information net was continuous and felt like an extension of PAT’s nineteen bodies. PAT’s awareness thus moved easily and instantaneously into the planetary monitoring system.
Get as close a look as possible seemed to be the first order of business.
PAT could enhance images to a much higher resolution from the inside of the communications network than could any single external human user interface.
Rocky masses between two to five kilometers average diameter. Planet killer size. But wait, protuberances on those rocky exteriors are regular and look to be nozzles! Lateral attitude jets!? Anterior structures also appear manufactured, a propulsion device? Earth is under attack! But this could be a good thing; maybe I can work their maneuvering system?
PAT’s awareness reached out again.
“Yes, nano-circuitry, nano-processors, at this range even the slightest push will change their trajectory and annihilate the annihilation.”
PAT fired the lateral thrusters. The masses moved off the Earth orbit trajectory. PAT waited just a moment before jumping back to Earth. Good thing too. The opposite thrusters fired pushing the masses back to Earth orbit intersection.
How did that happen? I detect only rock, metal and ceramic, no organic pilots. PAT worked the thrusters again and sensed for an auto-pilot program. Again the masses’ course was righted. This time PAT felt a signal pulse, not from within the nano-circuits but from without. Like Earth, PAT had to re-direct his / her observations outward but further. PAT rapidly adjusted, the communications signal became clear.
Definitely a remote external control signal, but it was almost an instantaneous response to the change in course. There is nothing within a million kilometers. No ships. No relay stations. No time lag! Instantaneous long distance communication?”
PAT probed the nano-processors further.
Yes! Of course! A quantum communication system. Immediate contact anywhere in the universe, at least that’s what Earth’s theorists have said. I guess they were right. I’ll download the specifications to my dummy corporation and “they’ll invent” it next year. If there is a next year.
PAT’s awareness reached out again, into the quantum relay.
The alien communication computer defenses are looking for mathematical constructs, I’m not that. Bye, bye, you can’t get me you non-self annihilators. That coming up must be their firewall. It looks like a picket fence to me.
PAT was now within a different and vastly more complex solar system network. It was actually five solar system nets controlled by instantaneous quantum communication.
“No time to decipher their language. This is overwhelming. Concentrate, just look at the hardware. So much redundancy; so many backup systems, what to use, power systems, no; maintenance, no; refuse, no; weapons, no good. What, what? What’s interdependent in the entire system? Communications? But how to use it? Think theory. The quantum teleportation phenomenon required for instantaneous communication necessitates physical contact to synchronize the quantum states of the sender and receiver mechanisms. One half of the communication device must then be physically transported to the off-world communications site. Five interdependent solar systems, light-years apart. Disrupt quantum communications and you disrupt the entire social, economic and political system for decades, even if they have light-speed travel. That’s it. He who controls communications controls the war, to paraphrase Napoleon.”
PAT’s awareness reached out again.
Good, one central planetary system connects directly to each of the other four. I can do it all from here. Getting home will be the tricky part.
PAT reached out to the communication platforms for each system. PAT moved into the quantum mechanism and became part of that mechanism. Just a change in attitude on PAT’s part and the quantum state changed. Each solar system then blanked out from the network. By the third solar system disappearance the alarms went off, but it was too late. The fourth followed into quiet.
Now to do the home world. Hope I see Earth after this. Here goes. Cross all my many fingers.
PAT was back on the masses, now deadheading toward a meeting with Earth. The masses lateral attitude jets could still fire, PAT sent four of the masses on their way into Saturn’s gaseous bulk. PAT sent the fifth, smallest mass on a course that would just brush by the Earth.
That’ll scare ‘em a bit.
PAT was back on the cots. Nineteen faces smiled at the ceiling.
Survived alone again. Hopefully Earth won’t find out what I did and I won’t be bothered. . . Oh, I just realized.
Nineteen sets of eye snapped open.
One half of the quantum communication device must be physically transported to the off-world communications site. Maybe it wasn’t an attack after all, just an attempt at establishing a communications link. Oops.
Part III
Self Determination
Yves Gorman stood in the dimly lit, at least in the visible range, metallic corridor of the ElectroConvenience Corporation sub-basement. He stared intensely at the place on the wall which he knew opened in the large room housing PAT. PAT had always given Gorman the “creeps”. The simultaneous movement of nineteen people was fun to watch in those old musical Vids, but in a business discussion it went quickly from annoying to unnerving. The group mind PAT, all nineteen of him / her / they, moved in unison, even down to synchronized blinking! They were still people but a very special group of people, the first and hopefully last, transponder linked human group mind. A poorly designed implanted transponder malfunction had made one personality out of nineteen brains. No one knows how. Still!
“Creepy for sure.” Gorman said aloud. PAT was in trouble and needed Gorman's help. Trouble didn’t follow Gorman, but he certainly stalked it. Gorman had made a profession out of fixing trouble’s regular rampages. He said to the wall panel. “PAT? It’s Gorman.” And the panel slid open; followed by nineteen faces turning toward him; nineteen sets of eyes being happy to see him.
“Please! Come in.” Said the chorus of voices that was PAT. Nineteen right arms invited Gorman to sit. One chair facing nineteen chairs.
“Like the inquisition.” Gorman said.
There was a massive sigh. PAT stood off to the side of the room. PAT began to pace back and forth as Gorman sat down. “I wish this was a social situation.” PAT said.
“I see most people because they want me to do something for them.” Gorman shrugged. “I've gotten use to it.” He shrugged again, “Actually, I like helping people. And you have to admit, you are a lot of people.” Gorman’s professional side was trying to lighten the heavy mood.
“Good, because it’s about to hit the fan, any moment, now.” PAT continued to synchronously pace.
“Janis said you needed to see me.” Gorman felt uncertain who in PAT he should look at. He understood so much about a person by the way their eyes moved as they talked. PAT had officially incorporated as a business entity, but apparently hadn’t elected a CEO or President.
“I violated the contract. It was necessary!” PAT stopped pacing and sat in front of Gorman.
Gorman had never seen PAT show such emotion. “What has happened?”
“The Company has been notified that I exceeded my daily time allowed on the ComNet by 1.785 minutes.” PAT wrung all their hands.
“Hardly, more than a minor infraction. In total that's not even five minutes on the ComNet.”
“4.675 minutes.” PAT snapped.
“Okay, just explain the need for the extension.” Gorman frowned. “Everyone that’s accomplishing anything pushes on and punctures the boundaries sometimes.”
“I can't, it . . . It would complicate . . . Make matters worse.” Nineteen sets of eyes glanced up at the Vid Cam in the corner of the ceiling.
“Here comes the message for you.” PAT waved at Gorman as the phone component of his standard, non-malfunctioning transponder implant buzzed in what seemed like his ear. Gorman jumped in surprise. PAT smiled weakly at Gorman. “If it’s on the ComNet, I can monitor it.”
Gorman stood in the reception area of ECC's executive suites heeding their summons. No one had come for him yet. There were no chairs and only one visible door in the reception area, the one he had come in through. Either you have an appointment or you aren't supposed to be here. A young man walked through an unidentifiable opening in the smooth tan wall. “Yves, or should I say, President Gorman, congratulations, I haven't seen you since your promotion.” The young man smiled.
“Thanks Frank, but call me Yves and it’s no promotion.” Yves shook the young man’s extended hand.
“Well, if anyone can make a company out of the ECC teleporter technology, you're the man to make it fly.” Frank said as he led Gorman through the wall.
“I’d have better luck making an elephant fly.” Gorman said to the back of Frank’s head. Frank laughed. He would’ve laughed at Gorman's words whether he heard them or not.
Janis Sault stood at the opening to her office; otherwise it would have been blank walls again. Gorman could see her as he walked behind Frank. Gorman put his hand on Frank's shoulder to get his attention. “I can make it from here by myself. Thanks Frank.”
“Oh, sure,” Frank said and veered off down an adjacent blank hallway.
“CEO Style wanted to meet in my office.” Janis said with an officious tone. This was a business matter, but she still blew Gorman a small kiss as he approached. Gorman's appointment to the President of the ECC spin-off company had not only made it easier for them to see each other but it had also improved their relationship. Each person now had the benefits and enhancements of the separation of business and pleasure.
“Thanks, MS Sault.” Gorman smiled as he stopped to let her back up into her office.
Jonathan Style sat behind her desk. “Yves, glad you could come over so quickly, things here are moving at breakneck speed, as usual.” Style had moved up in the ECC hierarchy too. V.P. to CEO in one giant power leap in which Yves had assisted.
“I was in the building already, no problem.” Gorman sat down on the synthetic leather couch near the wall.
Janis stood by the closed opening. “PAT Inc. asked me to invite President Gorman for a discussion this morning.”
CEO Style shook his head, “Breakback speed's more like it.” The CEO looked into Gorman's eyes. “You must’ve realized some commotion is brewing.”
“And you hate commotion almost as much as you hate lawyers, right?” Gorman forced a smile. His professional side was always on call.
“Completely, right.” CEO Style didn't smile. That was Style’s professional side. “That's why I keep you around to keep away the lawyers and the commotion.” Nobody smiled. “No matter, to the issue. To ECC, PAT, Inc. is simply a financial liability. PAT Inc. brings in no income, but we do, and will, live up to our contract with PAT. The sub-basement accommodations are, and will, continue to be available to, uh, PAT Inc. Despite that, and considering the present situation, for now, though, ECC's stand on PAT Inc. is completely neutral.”
Gorman tried to show no expression on his face, but internally he was reacting dramatically. Every event so far this morning had yelled out big trouble to him. Now this statement from Style screamed it at him. There was never a place to run and hide though, when he most needed it. “But someone else's is not, I gather.” Gorman’s voice remained calm.
“Damned Continental Coalitions, they’re as nervous as a litter of kittens.” CEO Style tapped on Janis' desktop. “Especially, the USTA.”
“The government of the United States of the Americas is concerned about PAT Inc. violating a curfew clause in our contract?” Gorman had dealt with the USTA many, many times. Everything was complicated and everything was important to them, even the temperature of the room. “A minor infraction.” Gorman waved his hands in the air.
“Nothing is minor to them. Remember what they did to San Diego to finalize their treaty demands?” The CEO shook his white-haired head.
“I think the expression is: What San Diego?” Gorman said, but his ears rang with alarm. Was it a private message for him or just his brain panicking? Unfortunately, it was his brain. He had to maintain control. The comfort of his starry-night ceiling was back in his new office.
“Absolutely, they want PAT Inc. cut off from the ComNet entirely or better dead.” CEO Style stated. Both Gorman and Janis glanced at each other but remained silent.
Gorman finally asked, “Hypothetically, what if ECC didn't respond to this demand?”
“They’d kill PAT and whoever was in the way then raise our insurance rates so high that ECC would be ruined. Just that.” CEO Style never was good at irony. He always just laid out the facts.
Gorman remained quiet again. When the Gulf Stream had collapsed and half the Northern hemisphere had frozen over, the insurance industry collapsed also, since then all business insurance was nationalized. Otherwise there would be no insurance, so the USTA could easily shut down ECC without violation of the Expanded Constitution. Gorman also realized that the ‘whoever-was-in-the-way’ had just become him. “But PAT doesn't leave the building. Shutting off ComNet access would mean solitary confinement.”
“That or nineteen coffins.” Janis said out of turn. Both Gorman and Style looked at her in silence. Gorman wished she was speaking sarcastically but she wasn’t.
“You have one hour to come up with a better solution.” CEO Style stood up. “USTA troops are evacuating this and all the other buildings on this and the surrounding blocks. Being the insurer, they have a special interest in not damaging the building.”
Janis looked wide-eyed at Gorman. He shook his head at her not to respond.
“MS Sault and I will be leaving now. We wish you luck.” CEO Style took Janis by the arm and led her out of the office. As they departed, so did the safety of the building.
Gorman sat calmly until the wall opening closed and then he slapped the couch beside him, then again and again, “Horse Mother's and vulture vomit, shit, shit, damn shit!” He yelled as loud as his voice would go. He knew he was alone except for the nineteen-member group mind in the sub-basement, so who would hear?
“PAT, the USTA won't be doing this for a curfew violation.” Gorman still didn't know where to look; all the eyes did seem to tell the same story though. “There's more to this. Tell me, we literally are running out of time.”
“I know about the evacuations and the neutron emitter.” PAT said.
Gorman didn't know about the neutron bombardment. It destroyed flesh, not buildings; a good weapon for an aggressive insurer. It made him shake inside. He was getting too much information, too fast and it was all bad.
“It’s on a manual switch, so I can’t gain access.” PAT looked down. “But I know what has the USTA so angry.”
Gorman looked up at the Vid Cams. “Can you, at least, turn them off?”
“I already have.” PAT stated. “The USTA monitors detected my presence in the Oort Cloud satellite surveillance system.”
“Excuse me, how did you get way out there?” Gorman asked.
“If it's on the ComNet my awareness can move through the communications inter-link at near light speeds. Usually, I only stay in the Servers a few nanoseconds, no detection systems picks up such short duration entities. I make a circuit of the solar system ComNet every few days. My awareness will be in the communications system’s carrier wave for hours between Servers. The solar system's a big place. It’s a very pleasant ride. I like being in the Wave. It’s like electronic surfing. It’s almost like meditation. Still, I mostly just keep tabs on Coalition activities. But yesterday something else kept me, or at least parts of me, in the Oort station Server longer than I wanted.”
“Even though this is fantastically hard to believe, why not tell them that?” Gorman looked into one set of PAT's eyes. It was a woman’s eyes. “It was the something else that kept you there and that’s the problem?”
Nineteen heads nodded, “I detected five asteroids coming at Earth . . .”
“What?” Gorman sat up in his chair. His brain buzzed, too much bad information again.
“It’s okay. I diverted them.” PAT sighed.
“Well, you're a hero then?” Gorman said as the buzzing stopped.
“Well, the USTA doesn’t know about the asteroids yet, but, no, there's more.” PAT was insistent. Gorman closed his mouth. “I realized the asteroids were being directed by an extraterrestrial master. They had a quantum communication device giving them instantaneous control over the asteroids even over light year distances. I used that quantum wave to piggy-back on and made it back to the alien world. I . . . I . . . didn't have much time, but . . . Well, I thought they were attacking Earth, so I disrupted their communication and control systems for the asteroid projectiles as well as the entire planetary system. It should take them years to recover.”
“Christ, you're telling me that not only can you monitor our planetary security system, but that we were attacked by aliens, you visited their planet and defeated their invasion? In less than five minutes!" Gorman held his head. He didn’t need all of this. “This has become a monumentally bad day . . . Either you've lost your nineteen minds or I have.”
“No, it happened, I have the design for their instantaneous communication device. I could show you.” PAT waved at the large display screen on the wall, a complex schematic appeared there.
“What good will that do? We'll both likely be dead in an hour.” Gorman looked up for the comfort of the stars, but he was in a sub-basement. One more bad thing to add to the list. “Aliens! Christ!”
“At least, you believe me.” PAT said in a solemn tone.
“Okay, I don't have the time not to believe you. I have to find a way to save all twenty of our asses. The USTA doesn't know about the aliens?”
“No, not at all. It happened so fast.”
“We could declare you a planetary hero, saved the Earth from the alien hoard.” Gorman smiled and then shook his noisy head.
“Well, I . . . I. . Think I might have misinterpreted the alien’s intentions.” PAT said, weakly.
Gorman groaned. The bad list just kept getting longer.
“It is more likely, now that I’ve had time to think, the asteroids were actually part of the instantaneous quantum communications system. They were the synchronized base system needed to establish Earth’s com-link. I think they just wanted to talk with us.”
Gorman rubbed his nose violently. He had that habit under control, but he was now flooded with emotions and he'll be dieing soon anyway, so the hell with self control. He rubbed some more. “Yeah, better not mention the aliens. Work another angle, . . . Think . . .think . . . To the ECC you are just a financial liability . . . To the USTA you’re a security liability . . . Make you an asset instead, obviously . . . 0ne doesn't kill the asset. . . there’s the Golden Goose, of course, but that comes later. . . First things first. . . You have the design for the Quantum Communications device you said?”
Nineteen nods again.
“Value-Added is the best sales approach. PAT Inc. has been working on, for the benefit of all mankind, wait . . . for the benefit of the USTA citizens, a new method for information transfer. No lag times . . . real-time control of robotics from anywhere in the solar system . . . that’s why you were in the Pluto Server for so long . . . concept testing. Yeah, they'll like that. It will change the balance of power on Earth and the rest of the solar system.”
PAT smiled those identical smiles. “I understand, but if I give them the design then they can just kill me and still have it.”
“Yeah, and me too. Add the rider: Subordinate technology development to follow. They will need your help. Yeah, that should work.” Gorman nodded. “Do it now, prepare a formal proposal under your name, put it on the links of all the USTA officials. Oh and apologize for taking so long. Grease the wheels a little.”
“Done.” PAT said.
“Well, get it moving then, we don't have much time left.” Gorman waved encouragement.
“No, I mean it’s done. The proposal is now on their links. But I realized something else.” PAT smiled at Gorman.
“Oh, yes, sorry, you can work at computer speeds.” Gorman shrugged. “What else?”
“The Quantum communication device is based on Quantum Teleportation, a concept that will make the ECC limited teleporter technology actually become effective and viable. I’ve put that revelation to the ECC Board also. I hope you don’t mind?”
Gorman blinked. “Well, ah thanks, why not . . . Let's hope I'm right and I get to do something with it.”
“We'll find out soon if you're not.” PAT smiled. “You . . . you don't have to stay here. You can leave. I won't mind.”
“Where would I go? I can't hop a carrier wave to Pluto like you.” Gorman smiled back. “Also, I suspect that we'll only know if I am right.”
PAT's smile weakened, but it remained. They both remained quiet. Their lives were in some unknown person's hands that had only limited information and an unknown political agenda. Rolling the dice might give you a better chance.
Clocks hadn't ticked since the late twentieth century, but Gorman was hearing time ticking away. No, that was nineteen synchronized, worried heartbeats. Gorman laughed at himself.
“What is amusing?” PAT looked up at Gorman.
“Every unbelievable thing that's happened this morning.” Gorman laughed again. “The threat of death sure keeps a person from getting bored.”
PAT nodded in agreement but the smiles disappeared. “I’m sorry for all of this.”
“It’s not your fault. You were caught by the transponder malfunctions, an accident got you here. You're doing your best to deal with the bizarreness of our present biomechanically confusing world. Not your fault if you don't have all the correct answers. Who does? That's life.” Gorman stretched his arms. “It should be close, now.”
PAT nodded. Gorman nodded back. Quiet again. Quiet still.
“Time is up. We’re still alive.” PAT said.
“That’s a positive, at least.” Gorman sat straight in his chair.
“The USTA might not be as precise with time as I am?” PAT added.
“Good point, back to worry mode.” Gorman rubbed his nose.
The large display screen clicked into operation. It produced twenty startled individuals and then the face of CEO Style. He was smiling. Janis stood behind him, also smiling.
Gorman nodded toward the enlarged images. “That’s even a better sign.”
“Yes, any news is good news.” PAT’s lighter side.
“Yves, your name should be Miracleman, instead of Gorman. It’s why I keep you around. How do you do it?” CEO Style laughed.
“I’m his shield is why.” Gorman said to himself, but PAT heard it and frowned. “What exactly have I done?”
“Now, the USTA wants to hire ECC to do some crazy project about Quantum Communications and have PAT as the project director. The USTA will pay for it even, a substantial sum with milestones, of course. I’ll have the contracts down in one hour. PAT?”
“Sir?” All of PAT stood up at the request.
“Do you want to be an employee or a sub-contractor?” CEO Style said, distractedly.
“I, uh, Mr. Gorman?” PAT fumbled. Gorman shrugged.
“Not needed now, just a detail, what the lawyers are for, details.” CEO Style picked up another stack of papers and laughed again. “And while you were pulling this miracle out of whatever hat you wear, Yves, you were ready to spring the other miracle on me. You can make the ECC Teleporter carry people, distance no object?“
Gorman shot a look at PAT. PAT nodded and smiled. “Yeah, I guess I can. It will take an extensive testing period first to guarantee safety requirements.” Gorman frowned at PAT. A nineteen-shoulder shrug followed.
“Good, whatever it takes. I thought that tech was a stinker sinker, for sure.” CEO Style mumbled.
“As we all did sir, as we all did.” Gorman said.
“What was that, I didn’t catch that.” CEO Style was shuffling through the papers.
“Nothing, just Thank You’s, sir, to you and the Board.” Gorman was looking at Janis behind Style. She was quietly crying, but happy.
“Great, Janis wanted to say a word, but I have to get to the lawyers. Good job, both, or all of you.” CEO Style moved quickly off the display.
Janis’ eyes tracked his departure and then she sat down in front of the display wiping her cheeks. “When you come out of the basement, Mr. Gorman make certain you’re wearing your biggest miracle hat.”
“Oh, and why?” Gorman was very pleased to see her face again.
“Falling elephant poop, you made a whole herd of them fly today. See you soon, Janis above the fray, out.” The display went blank.
“Elephant poop?” PAT looked confused.
“Personal joke, but we both should watch out for it, anyway.” Gorman went to rub his nose but stopped before he made nasal contact.
Copyright 2004
&&&&&&&&&&&
Just to be perfectly clear!
All Rights to this piece reside with the Author