Nanobots, Murder, and Other Family Problems
Sat 06/18 17:26:54 PDT

The after-images of the training session linger, and I stagger as I emerge from the Research Center. The headaches for this are so much worse than the ones from the calibration. I check the diagnostic view, still open in my overlay. My brain is changing again, but it’s not damaged. Maybe I should listen to Father and ease back when it hurts, but I don’t see myself mastering this thing that way. I lean for a moment against the gray brick wall of the building until the pain subsides back to its baseline throbbing.

I’m tempted to talk to Evan about it, but then I’d probably need to explain why I’m pushing myself this way. No. I’ll be OK. I take a deep breath and steady myself.

My schedule says that I’ve got an all-hands meeting tonight at six, so I head to the cafeteria to get a bite before that starts. I’m not sure what an all-hands meeting is. I guess I’ll find out when I get there.

Tonight’s main course is pasta with grilled chicken in a creamy sauce, bland as usual but still one of the better meals of the dozen they rotate between. Evan and Louise are sitting at our usual table laughing about something. Evan sees me and waves me over.

“Hey Noah, things go all right today? This was your last day with the vision emulators, right?”

I nod as I take my seat. “It could have gone worse, but it wasn’t the way I’d want to spend a Saturday,” I tell him. “How was the trip to Lake Mead?”

“Good. I still can’t waterski for anything, but it’s fun to try.”

Louise looks away.

“You skip it again, Louise?”

“Of course she did,” Evan answers for her. “She’s much too busy coming up with her secret something that will save the world to have fun once a week.”

“So tell me how things went in the lab,” Louise says, changing the subject.

“We spent a lot of time on the exercises where you do multiple eyes at once. That wasn’t fun. I’m not built to have 360-degree vision.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember doing that,” Evan says, making a disgusted face. “Never done it since. I stick to a single eye if I even do that much.”

Louise laughs. “It’s not that hard, you just have to get used to it. I run my eyes with a panoramic view most of the time.”

“So that’s why we can never sneak up on you,” Evan says. “Where do you keep them? I never see the optical clusters floating around you.”

“I made some improvements,” she says. “Mine run smaller than the defaults. They’re in my hair, here and here.”

I look where she points. There’s nothing there. “I can’t see anything.”

“Exactly the point,” she declares proudly.

“Oh. Cool. Can you show me how you do that?”

“Sure,” she says with a smile. “Once you get some real hardware.”

“Anyway. I’m glad that’s over and I can self-pace a little more. Father drives us hard in there.”

Evan and Louise both agree. I feel bad lying to them. Evan is the best friend I’ve ever had, if you don’t count Mom. And Louise is a close second, ever since that night she helped me sneak back into the dorms. But I can’t let them know how hard I’m pushing myself. They’ll worry and tell Father about it.

“Any idea what the meeting tonight is about?” I ask them.

“Some big announcement,” Evan says. “Chad knows, but no one else does.”

“Where is Chad, anyway?” I ask, looking around.

“Must be over there already, helping get things set up.”

As I look around, I notice Jeff seated a couple of tables over, at his usual spot in the corner, but instead of sitting with his back to us like he normally does, he’s turned so I can see him in profile. More importantly, I can see his plate. Some of the food on it is slowly writhing like it’s alive. A stream of droplets float up from the plate into his mouth. Is he even chewing? I think he’s using his bots to liquify the food a piece at a time on his plate. I can’t even see a swallowing motion with his throat. He must be having the bots carry the food all the way down.

Ew.

I’m done with dinner.

I carry my mostly uneaten plate to the dropoff. Fortunately, Evan and Louise were done too, so we all walk out together to the Residence. We climb the massive stone steps and enter through the oversized wooden double doors. Chairs are set up in the huge foyer just inside. Chad is already waiting there, chatting with Father near the podium. Did he skip dinner to come early? What a suck-up.

The nursery contingent has smaller chairs up front, each child sitting next to a gorgeous nanny. Father is down on one knee in front of them, laughing with my little sibs. The three of us take seats on the back row, as the kids seem to be loosely grouping up by class from youngest to oldest, front to back. Marc is already there in one corner, whispering to Andrea who nods absently as he chatters. Erik and Stan from the class just younger than ours are next to her. The rest of the kids trickle in. Jeff brings up the rear, gliding to the last remaining seat in the corner of the back row opposite Marc and sitting down with his weird mechanical motions.

“My children!” Father’s voice booms out.

I turn to the podium where Father stands. He sounds like he’s talking into a mic, though I don’t see one or any speakers. Chad strides to the side of the room as the meeting starts. He stands at attention there, way too good to come sit with the rest of us. The room quiets down as Father continues.

“My children, tonight I want to speak with all of you about something very important to me. As most of you know, I often travel around the world to further our mission. You little ones,” he says, talking directly to the three-year-olds on the front row, “what’s our mission?”

“Preserve life! End suffering! Elevate humanity!”

They chant it in a practiced unison. The recitation must be part of their daily routine. I get that familiar impression that I’m trapped in a cult compound.

“Good, good!” Father beams at them. “I’m so glad that you’re learning what is important!” He takes a few steps and positions himself behind the podium. “Now, over the past two decades, I’ve focused most of our Institute’s efforts on curbing the threat to our planet from climate change. In bringing our country out of the dark ages of fossil fuels, and sparking many other nations to follow suit, I have bought us all a few more years on that front. More recently, I’ve added efforts to eradicate a number of diseases, resolve conflicts, and provide disaster relief. To date, I have directly saved many thousands of lives, and indirectly saved many, many more.”

A massive cheer swells up from the younger kids, followed by general applause. I clap along, unable to muster the enthusiasm most of my sibs are showing. It’s not that I don’t believe the claim. He probably deserves credit for much more than that, like the whole planet’s worth of lives. But it creeps me out how they all worship him. This is beyond admiration for a father. He’s the prophet of this cult. Or its god. The only one I don’t see fawning in adoration is Evan, but even he is smiling and clapping along.

“But I can’t do this alone.” Father pauses for dramatic effect. “I’m not getting any younger, and saving the world is a job for our whole family, not just me. I need all of you working with me to preserve this world of ours.”

The room goes quiet.

“This September, we will launch our most ambitious international project yet. We will bring clean water and sustainable, renewable power to several countries in eastern Africa, where a combination of historical violence and poor infrastructure have kept people living in conditions of terrible scarcity for centuries. I have negotiated agreements with the ruling interests in Somalia, Ethiopia, and Djibouti to allow us to visit and set up solar power systems, desalination facilities, and the necessary infrastructure to allow the people there to maintain them. We will drastically improve the standard of living for the millions of people living there!”

Another roaring cheer and lengthy applause. Over in his corner, Chad smiles smugly as he looks around the room. I clap enough to avoid suspicion as his eyes swing my way.

“But the scope of the project isn’t the reason for this meeting. I brought you all here to let you know that I will not be doing this trip on my own,” Father pauses a moment to let the rush of excited whispers die out. “Indeed, I don’t think I would be capable of it all. I will be bringing your oldest siblings with me! By the time we leave, all of them will have received clouds of their own, and will have been training with them for months. Even your dear long-lost oldest brother, Noah, will be able to join us.” Dozens of my siblings turn around to look at me. I force an eager smile onto my face. “All of your older siblings’ abilities have been growing quickly, and they will be an indispensable part of this operation. They will travel with me, and together, we will do what?”

“Preserve life! End suffering! Elevate humanity!” The roar is almost deafening this time.

He talks some more, going over details for the places we’ll go and the things we’ll build. Meanwhile, I seethe with inner conflicts, trying not to let them show on my face. I want him in prison. But how can I do that when we’re going to do something like this? Leave millions without water and power because I hate him? Part of me wishes that I could just buy into the cult. That I didn’t know what I know about him. It would be so easy. Save the world with the old man instead of getting justice for mom. What he’s planning is good on an epic scale. This will save so many lives, and improve so many more. Forget that he killed her. Forget that he’s a murderous monster.

Breathe. Calm. Breathe. I can almost hear Mom’s voice.

What would she want me to do? Trade her life in, help save the world? She might have. She was good like that.

Dammit.

Look at him, listing out the benefits of abundant clean water for the people of Djibouti. That crooked smile on his face seems so sincere. I think he really believes his own hype. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Maybe he really is his own hype.

How do I condemn the world to live without all the good he can do? So many people lack basic necessities, and this institute and Father’s tech may really be the world’s best hope.

An hour ago, I felt like locking him away was justice. Now it just feels selfish.

“You OK, man?” Evan whispers. “You look sick.”

“I’m fine,” I quietly lie.

He gives me a worried look, but doesn’t say anything else. Father is still explaining the wells and solar farms we’re going to build in dozens of villages in rural Ethiopia.

Why can’t things be simple?

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