Hello, World

Chapter 3

— 912 Days Later —

Jackson swished the dregs of his third cup of coffee and savored the bitter edge as the final drops slid down his tongue. He tossed the styrofoam cup, stained brown in the inside, into a short wastebasket outside the door to the clean room.

His mind was alive, alert, buzzing; the veins in his forearms bulged below the half-rolled sleeves of his white button-down as he pushed the swivel door and entered the clean room. He pushed his sleeves further up his arm and scrubbed his skin with a surgical-grade disinfectant, dried himself, then pushed one more door open and stepped into the lab. His lab.

Jackson nodded at the aides sitting at their computers at the table to his right and walked up to the gurney where their volunteer, Brian Harris, sat. He looked good, healthy. A little nervous, maybe, but that was to be expected.

"How do you feel?" Jackson asked.

"I feel ready."

Ready for the first twenty million to hit your bank account, Jackson thought. Whatever the man's motives, Jackson was relieved to finally have someone sitting in that chair. The past six months had been a nightmare of unanticipated regulatory hurdles that at one point Jackson thought would make the past two years of research be for nothing.

Everything was approved, though, and after dozens of health exams and psychiatric visits, Brian Harris, thirty-two-year-old male, five-foot-nine, one-hundred-sixty-two pounds, educated at Cal for undergrad and Columbia for postgrad, was selected as the first subject.

Jackson watched as a nurse stuck an IV into Harris' left arm then patted him on the shoulder through his blue-and-white polka-dot hospital gown. "I'm glad you're here, Mr. Harris. This has been a long time coming," Jackson said.

"Yes, sir, it sure has. It's time to put this technology to the test." His voice was strong. It made Jackson more confident they picked the right person for the job.

"Hold tight. We'll be starting soon," Jackson said. He nodded to the nurse then went into his white-walled office, closing the door behind him. He sunk into his reclining leather chair and took in a deep breath through the nose, held it, and blew it out slowly. He felt like he was living in a dream. Or a daydream.

He had spent so many restless nights wondering what this day, this moment, would feel like. What did it feel like to be on the cusp of changing

the world, mere minutes away from doing something that could never be undone? It felt like... nothing. Like waiting at a traffic light. Or putting on a pair of socks. Was that normal? What was he supposed to feel? May be the emotions would come later, once it was all done. In that moment, however, the only thing Jackson felt was a cold, iron focus.

One of his lab aides rapped on his door and poked her head in. "Sir? We're ready."

*****

The gurney holding Brian Harris sat, wheels locked, in the center of the lab, surrounded by warm bodies and warmer equipment. To the left stood the nurse with a crash cart, monitoring Harris' vitals and ready to step in should anything go awry. To the right stood the scientists, Jackson's team, hooking soft rubber electrodes to Harris' torso and shaved scalp. Above the gurney and behind Harris' head were two large flatscreen monitors, wheeled in on a mobile mount and placed so Jackson had an unobstructed view of the brain data relayed to it in real time.

The left monitor showed a network of yellow lights that looked like wide-angle photos of the cosmos. That was Harris' current brainprint, as Jackson called it. The right monitor was blank, for now, but would soon mirror the left monitor when Harris' brainprint was duplicated into the computer that ran Adam, GTL's AI.

At least, that's what they hoped would happen.

Jackson's eyed everyone on his team. "Today," he began, "is the first day of the next phase in the evolution of the human race. A million years ago,

humans learned how to harness the power of fire. Five thousand years ago, humans learned how to write. Less than one hundred years ago, humans invented the Internet, and eight years ago, TML built Adam, the world's first self-propagating artificial intelligence. What we are about to accomplish today, in this very room, will dwarf everything I just named. Humans split off from Homo Erectus millions of years ago and evolved into Homo Sapiens. Today, we will split off again. Today, we become Homo Deus."

Everyone erupted into cheers and applause. Jackson smiled and waved them down when they started chanting his name. After several minutes, the noise died down and left them with only the buzz of the machinery.

Jackson looked to Dr. Wilson, head of the medical team. "Doctor, how are we?"

"Nominal," Wilson said.

"Mr. Tyler, how are we?" Jackson asked the lead scientist, his right- hand-man.

"Nominal," Tyler said.

"Adam?" Jackson asked the AI.

"Nominal, Mr. Jackson," the accented voice said over the intercom. "Mr. Harris?"

"Nominal," Brian Harris said with a smirk.

"Adam, initiate the Imprint."

Jackson sat on the white tile floor with his palms pressed into his weary eyes. His tie was half undone, hanging off to the left side of his body, his shirt was unbuttoned, and his normally immaculate combover was disheveled. The center of his forehead throbbed with each beat of his heart.

A tap on his shoulder made him drop his hands and open his eyes. Tyler stood in front of him, blocking the view of the now-empty gurney which minutes ago was surrounded by shouting medics performing CPR on Harris' limp body.

Tyler sat down next to Jackson. "There's nothing more we could have done. The electric impulse at the start was just too much. Harris knew the risks."

"It shouldn't have happened," Jackson said. The impulse was far below lethal levels."

"Maybe not, but it did. At least we tried."

Jackson scowled. "This isn't over, Tyler."

"A death of a volunteer will be a major issue to the regulators. You already saw how difficult it was before this happened, but now-"

"You're fired," Jackson said.

"What?"

"Leave my lab and never come back. When I succeed, remember that you once doubted me."

Tyler looked over his shoulder on the way out the door. "It didn't work, Jackson. Accept it and move on." He walked out of the lab without turning back. Jackson was, finally, alone.

It will work, he thought. Just wait.