Homesick
Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Controlled Hallucination

Ian was already waiting in the mess hall when Sally arrived, and was carefully reviewing information on his hand-held in preparation for their discussion. He regarded Sally with a polite nod.

Sally took a seat next to Ian, navigating the room with her usual finesse. They both faced the console display on the wall where they assumed Poole would be standing. Sally set her own hand-held on the table. “This should be interesting,” she said, feeling the need to break the silence. “Hopefully we’ll finally get some answers.”

“Amen to that,” Ian mumbled. Then he set his hand-held down and looked to Sally. “Captain,” he said, as if he had reserved his next words for just such an opportunity. “Before we get started, I wanted to thank you.”

Sally turned to him in surprise. “For what?”

“Well . . . for not confining me to quarters and unplugging my console the moment I suggested inviting the Masters onboard.”

“Why would I do that? Your argument was valid. You’re right, there are larger concerns here. I may not have wanted to hear it, but it’s true. Even if I disagreed with you, you’d at least be entitled to your say. It was your duty to bring this up. It would have been wrong not to.”

“Well, not all captains would feel that way. I’ve served under a few, as you might imagine. Scott was the best, of course . . .” He looked off, glancing at the glow of the planet reflecting off the wall in front of them.

“I’ve always admired the way you two worked together,” Sally said, gently touching his shoulder.

“He taught me everything, you know. He rose up through the ranks, wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, and he knew how to prioritize. You see, there are captains like him who got where they are by spending a lot of time out here.” He made an all-encompassing gesture. “And then there are . . .”

“Pencil pushing politicians that get their commands by knowing the right people?” Sally finished for him.

“You know the type.”

“We have those in medicine too,” she said with a haggard smile. “They run the hospitals, but don’t know the difference between a bedpan and a respirator, and heaven help them if they need to change an IV. But I don’t think Poole is one of them.”

“Sure hope not,” Ian agreed.

Vlad entered just before Dr. Poole materialized. Sally noted that he’d made some effort to look presentable. His uniform jacket was fully buttoned and might actually have been pressed, the shadow of his whiskers was slightly less pronounced, and his hair was arranged, if not combed. He took a seat and swiveled it to face Poole.

Poole looked from one face to another, now seeming smaller than ever. Sally realized after some reflection that this may have been exaggerated by the effects of Earth gravity. Her steps lacked the spring theirs had and she had no difficulty maintaining her balance on the metal floor. “I’m grateful to see we’re all here and I’ll dispense with the introductions,” she said, organizing notes on a table they couldn’t see. “I think we’ve all managed to get in each other’s way enough to be acquainted.” She paced the length of the table like a coach preparing to give a pep talk. “Let me say first that I’m prepared to authorize Earth Command to lift the radio silence and VR ban. I’ve configured the adjustments you must all make to your VR implants, and once that’s done, I can give the green light. Mr. Coronov, you’ll find that information in your incoming mail. I also included Mr. Anderson’s chip set. Do that one last.”

“Dr. Poole,” Ian spoke up first. “What was the meaning of that? I mean, this secrecy is putting everyone on the defensive and I can’t really see what it accomplishes.”

She sighed thoughtfully, looking up in the direction of the ceiling light while preparing her response. “The VR ban had nothing to do with secrecy, but I do happen to agree with you on that point. That’s why I’ve seen to it your families were fully briefed on your situation. Of course, it’s not like we had to. The press got hold of much of this a long time ago.”

Ian threw up his hands in an “I told you so!” gesture.

“Keeping the public in the dark was never my concern, Mr. Merryfield. There’s far more at stake here than a public relations problem or even a breach of security. I’m worried about stopping a potential epidemic.”

“You used the word ‘quarantine,’” Vladimir commented. “May we know how that applies? We can’t get sick through talking, can we?”

“Not talk,” Poole explained. “VR. By that I mean the technology itself and, believe me, there’s great cause for concern.” She scanned their faces for understanding but found none. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning. The VR implant was new when I was just out of medical school and I was on one of the first teams studying the potential long-term dangers of the technology. Of course, at that time, we were only concerned with surgical rejection problems and what damage the implant itself might do to the brain just by being there.”

The others nodded.

“Well, as most of you know, VR implants were always pretty safe and they’ve only gotten smaller and safer since then. The team was largely set up as a formality, but a few of us began to see the bigger picture. I, for one, didn’t join the team to study VR junkies complaining of headaches, insomnia, and nausea. I was far more interested in what happens below the surface.”

“You mean VR addiction?” Sally suggested.

She shook her head. “There isn’t really such a thing in the technical sense. People who waste their lives in VR are no more dependent on that stimulation than people who stay up all night surfing the net or watching broadcasts. That’s why the UN, the FDA, and the EC were so quick to approve the sale of the technology. In the beginning, most of the problems with VR technology weren’t really new. We’ll always have people indulging endless sexual fantasies in VR or even role-playing dysfunctional or disgusting scenarios. I don’t think the theologians and philosophers will ever agree on how to regulate that, and again it was never really my concern. I was looking for actual measurable damage to a person’s psyche. And most of the people they called junkies were just that; losers and druggies looking for another way to get high. It was a social problem, not a medical one. And, even if it got serious, the easiest way to deal with it would be to reprogram the implant or remove it altogether. No, the users never scared me. It’s the future applications of the technology I was watching for. You see, we’re only now beginning to understand what VR can really do.”

“Can you give us a for instance?” Ian asked.

“Yes I can,” she said, as if hoping he would ask. “To start with, let’s agree on just how much potential we have here. You see me.” She pointed at Ian.

“Yes.”

She walked over to him and took his hand in both of hers. “You feel me.”

He nodded.

She squeezed his hand. “Now what do you feel?”

“You’ve got a grip,” he said with an awkward laugh.

“You feel pressure first and perhaps some pain. Mild, nothing to worry about.”

Ian nodded with a half shrug.

“Now, if I were to strike you, you’d feel that too, and I would feel it if you did the same to me. But what if I cut you with a knife or something like that?”

“The safety filter would clip the pain,” Vlad answered for him.

Ian took his hand back and smiled politely.

“What if you were in my office on Earth instead of me being here?” she asked Ian. “What if there was a fire? Could you stand in it?”

“Yes,” Sally said. “It would be uncomfortable, but no more than that.”

“Now, what if I tampered with his implant and removed the sensory cut off?”

“He would feel the fire,” Vlad answered.

“Not only would he feel the fire, he’d be on fire! He’d experience the whole thing!”

“No,” Vlad scoffed. “That would be impossible. The implants are not designed for such a . . . realistic depiction of pain. If he were not physically there, how could he__”

“Oh, yes they are!” she said with surprising passion. “The units you now wear are state-of-the-art and they can operate at a much higher level than you’re allowed to experience. And who said pain had to be physical? He wouldn’t really burn, no, but he’d still experience the pain, the trauma, the fear, and everything else survivors of a fire might feel. And he’d remember it for the rest of his life and probably never think the same way about fire ever again. Do you see the danger? Even the simplest VR program today has awesome power over our mental faculties. It’s a controlled hallucination! A waking dream! You turn your mind over to it without question. The implant takes over your visual cortex, telling you what to see. It sends you auditory information, tactile stimulation, and even olfactory and taste sensations. And it’s quickly becoming impossible to know for sure when that dream ends and reality begins.” She paused for emphasis. “And, unless this technology is understood and regulated, it could be nothing short of a nightmare.”

“Are you saying somebody could actually be burned because they think they are?” Ian asked.

“No, that was always a myth,” she said, clearly having answered that question before. “But that’s just the point. You experience things in VR as if they were real, but you don’t have to pay the physical price. That’s why VR junkies never scared me. VR smoking programs actually help people quit a destructive habit. Eventually they’ll figure out they don’t even have to quit. Let them experience smoking, taking drugs, or whatever, but let them do so without actually introducing these substances into their bodies!”

“So what’s the problem?” Ian persisted.

“The problem is nobody’s really policing the use of this technology. It’s not that hard to tamper with the safety filters on those chips. It doesn’t even require an operation now. Can you imagine the potential for religious cults? How about terrorists, sadists, or even oppressive governments?”

All were silent for a moment.

“But they’d have to have the chip code,” Vlad challenged.

“Tricky, but not impossible. They could even wipe the entire chipset and re-initialize it with their own code. You see, it’s my job to play devil’s advocate.” She paused, looking around the group. “I spend every hour of every day dreaming up new ways VR technology could be abused. I look at every new innovation as just another door we throw open without looking through the peep hole first!” She turned back to Ian. “Mr. Merryfield, in your initial report you describe that encampment down on the planet as a Nazi-style labor camp, did you not?”

“It was.”

“And I notice you made a personal reference to your grandfather and to pictures you’ve seen__”

“If you’d been there you’d agree with me. My granddad lived through a place like that. He passed on the stories. He wasn’t the same man when he came home, from what father said. They lopped off his bloody leg!” Ian grimaced at the double meaning of his words.

“They tortured him for information?” Poole prodded.

“He didn’t have any to give! He was a mechanic, for heaven’s sake! But I’m sure he would have done after what they did to him. Anyone would!”

“But what if they had VR technology to work with back then? What if the Nazis had VR? Think about it! They could cut off one leg, then the other, and still be able to march him back to his cell. The next day they could cut off both legs again! He wouldn’t bleed to death or suffer infection. Even the Red Cross wouldn’t be able to make a case for torture. And, if he still didn’t talk, they could get even more creative! And they’d have all the time in the world! Your grandfather might have come home without a scratch!” She paused for emphasis. “But only on the outside.”

Ian’s eyes widened.

“VR technology may give future interrogators the keys to Hell itself! And it can go on forever because there’s no physical damage. They can starve you right after you’ve eaten. If they find out you don’t like heights, they can drop you from an airplane and let you fall as many times as they like. If you don’t like water, they can drown you. Now do you see what I’m talking about?”

There was total silence for a few moments while the group took it in.

“How is this regulated?” Sally asked.

“I’m practically the only one pushing for any regulations,” she said with obvious frustration. “But we’re finally making some progress.”

“Anderson’s implant,” Ian remembered. “That thing I analyzed for you.”

Poole nodded. “It’s designed along similar lines as ours, but more advanced.”

“You think this was done to Anderson?” Vlad asked. “Some kind of torture?”

Poole looked down for a moment and shook her head. “No, I think what’s happening down there is much worse than that. And, if I’m right about it, I think you’ll understand why I enforced the VR ban.”

She walked over to Ian again. “The implant got my attention, of course, but that in itself wasn’t what worried me. It was when you said Anderson was speaking a different language. That got me thinking about some of the VR learning research going on at Caltech.”

“VR learning is when you implant memories, right?” Sally asked, growing steadily more interested.

Poole nodded. “VR learning was the branch of this technology I’d been looking for since the beginning. It physically changes the brain.”

“Not possible,” Vlad said, shaking his head.

“Not until recently, Coronov, and it’s still experimental. They’ve managed to use VR implants and similar devices to alter the structure of the neural pathways. The best research I’ve seen involves helping stroke victims build new pathways around damaged parts of the brain. One man was able to gain the use of his left arm after it had been paralyzed. They’re also using it to reverse Alzheimer’s and cure epilepsy. It’s doing for brain surgery what the laser did for ophthalmology. Doctors don’t have to cut your head open to get at your brain anymore. And they can get into areas that were never available before. One of my colleagues is convinced he’ll be able to raise peoples’ IQs for example.”

“And you think somebody used this technology to teach Anderson an alien language?” Ian asked.

“I don’t think that was the point. Memories and skills are encoded into our neural pathways. Those skills include what we think of as languages in one form or another. Even though every brain encodes this information in its own unique way, there are many similarities in how all brains work. What the VR learning technician does is to map the appropriate skills or knowledge from the living brain of one person, convert it into some kind of intermediate code, and then feed it to the recipient’s brain using its own coding system as a guide. Theoretically, using this kind of technology, I could give Ian here my six years of medical school within a few hours. But, since most memories are formed by association, I’d probably also give him copies of childhood memories I may not even be consciously aware of.” She faced the group again. “The problem is, everything that makes us who we are is coded much the same way. Every personality trait, every dream or ambition, every personal preference, and even the way we perceive things that happen to us.”

Sally gasped. “Then what happened to Anderson . . .”

“I think Anderson’s brain was completely re-mapped. They totally re-made his personality. The fact that he knew their language when they were done might not even have been intentional. They also seem to have totally reformed his basic core make-up, including how he responds to every conceivable stimuli. They’ve made him immune to pain, for example. They’ve made him enjoy living in squalor. And, most importantly, they’ve imprinted an irresistible desire to love and serve them!” She shook her head. “Think of the religious cults of our world. No god could ever get the level of devotion and obedience the Masters got from him. The rest of the procedure probably involved suppressing his own personality and identity.”

“That’s why they didn’t need walls,” Ian said.

“Nobody undergoing this procedure would ever want to leave that camp. And I have to warn you now that Anderson would be willing to do anything to get back into their service.”

“The perfect slave,” Vlad said.

“The perfect slave class,” Poole corrected him. “What makes this even more terrifying is that the process could have taken only days or even mere minutes to implement. They probably have the data for the pattern stored somewhere. It’s like a rubber stamp! It’s my guess they’re interested in Anderson, not because they want him back as a slave, but because they want to make sure their process works on us the way it works on them. Think of Anderson as a prototype. They might even have made modifications to accommodate him.”

Sally’s face darkened. “Is there any hope of reversing this?”

“It’s possible,” Poole said, but her eyes told Sally she was far from hopeful.

“How would we go about trying?”

“Much of our available brain capacity is never really used, and the way we store information is complex enough that many believe we can’t truly forget anything. If we’re lucky, this conditioning, though obviously strong, may only be suppressing Anderson’s original long term memories and personality.”

“Like his memories of the ship,” Ian suggested.

“Exactly! Think of it as a facade. It’s like a mask covering his face. From the outside, that’s all we can see. But, in order to help Anderson, we’ll need to find a way to break through this barrier.” She took a deep breath before facing them again. “I won’t lie to you. We’re in new territory here and all I’ve said is theoretical. It may take years if it’s possible at all.”

Sally shook her head, her expression darkening further.

“And they wanted us to go down there, too,” Ian said in disgust. “We’d have finished up just like him, wouldn’t we? They’d have done the same to us!”

“Or something far worse and with greater implications,” Poole said to Ian. “You see, I suspect they’re just as afraid of us as we are of them. They’re obviously used to control. When they encountered Anderson, that’s the first thing they wanted to establish. Control. I think they think you represent a serious threat. A threat that extends home to Earth. That’s why I ordered radio silence.”

“You must have thought they could use our own VR implants . . .” Sally began.

“To affect you without your knowing,” Poole finished for her. “Perhaps to implant hidden instructions that you’d follow later or pass on to others through VR. Perhaps to start building some kind of army on Earth to do their bidding. Anderson got the full treatment. I had to be sure you weren’t given some kind of subtle version of it.”

“How do you know we weren’t?” Ian asked, as his mind began to absorb this new concern.

“I checked your computer and biomonitor logs. Usually, when something like this is done, there’s a brief period of chemical instability in the brain. I didn’t detect evidence of that. Also, if they had some kind of influence over you, I suspect they’d have used it in some way by now. Fortunately, the modifications I ordered for your chips will prevent any outside tampering and will allow us to monitor you more completely during VR transmissions.”

“Great,” Ian laughed. “Another J. Edgar Hoover in blue!”

“Not that type of monitoring, Merryfield. We’ll be looking for specific patterns of intensity necessary to change neural pathways. These patterns rarely show up anywhere else. When they do, it’s usually because of distress. If you were to have a heated argument with somebody, for example, that might trip an alarm, but we’d probably be able to tell right away if that’s all it was.” She smiled. “And, for those of you who have romantic affiliations, don’t worry. Sexual activity is on a totally different area of the chip.”

There were a few nervous chuckles.

“We’re also shutting down some areas I doubt you’ll miss. They have to do with possible subconscious activity. That section is rarely used anyway, unless you’re undergoing hypnosis.”

“Will these changes protect us when the aliens are onboard?” Sally asked.

Poole shrugged. “It’s a gamble. I’d say we’ll be able to tell if there were an intrusion, but I don’t know if we could prevent it. Besides, for all we know they’d just install their own implants if they wanted to take you over.”

“Do you think we shouldn’t have them onboard?” Sally asked, noting Ian’s scrutiny.

“I’m afraid that’s up to you. You and Merryfield both filled me in on the situation, and I have to agree with your concern about letting them keep our databanks. And, in terms of Anderson’s recovery, it would be helpful to get a look at how these Masters operate. But there’s one thing I must insist on, which you’ve already decided. Under no circumstances should you allow any of the Builders on this ship. If they are what I think they are, you’d be better off leaving them the databanks.”

“I was going to ask you about them, Dr. Poole,” Ian said with a subtle hesitancy. “Just what are they? Are they people like Scott who’ve been altered?”

“Not the same process, but yes I think so.”

Ian bowed his head.

“Again, this is a technology we’ve experimented with on Earth. You take an animal brain and keep it alive, use the same technology we’ve been talking about to map its neural pathways, and then establish some kind of interface using computer technology. Presto! You have a biological computer that can out-perform even the fastest electronic processors in production today. And you also have an information storage capacity that’s almost inexhaustible.” She looked away slightly, as if preoccupied. “Hardly humane, of course, but it is effective.”

“Then they’re like robots?”

“Not in the strictest sense,” she said, facing him again. “They’re still human, but their brains have been held captive. I would assume their personalities are not merely suppressed this time, but completely eliminated, perhaps through removing large areas of the brain tissue itself. Their skills remain, and are probably augmented. It’s also possible that, using VR learning technology, a standard skill-set could be inserted, or perhaps a specialized one. And, of course, that desire to please the Masters would be going full blast all the time. The difference between them and Anderson is the nature of that service and the difficulty involved in making it happen. Anderson is an expendable. He’ll smash rocks with his hands until he breaks all his bones and wears his skin raw. He’ll ignore pain during physical labor and may even draw pleasure from it. Because of this, he can be expected to do an extraordinary amount of work, but won’t be likely to live very long. Judging from his reported condition when you found him, I’d say they need a steady supply of new . . . ‘Brethren,’ I think they called them. On the other hand, those Builders appear to be more of an investment and the work they do is far more complex. They can sit for hours and days at a time working out technical problems. They may, for example, plan and organize the construction of a new building or design better versions of those weapons they used against you.” She paused for emphasis. “Or they could work diligently on a scheme to capture the Kelthy and invade Earth.”

The group all sat deeper in their seats.

“They’ll puzzle over it as long as it takes. They’ll never get tired, never get bored, and never daydream. We’re talking about a highly focused, directed, and harnessed intellect.”

“The shuttlepod systems!” Sally interjected. “That’s how they were able to learn so much so fast!”

“And they probably remember everything they see, no matter how briefly. If they get on the ship, there’s no telling what they could discover.”

“They’re also strong,” Ian added.

“No threshold of pain,” Poole reminded them. “And no survival instinct.”

Ian shook his head slowly. Poole then looked to Vlad. “You know what I need?”

He nodded.

“Merryfield, you’ve got my requirements for the rest of the data transfer?”

“All set.”

She looked to Sally. “Is there anything else?”

“No,” she said. “We all know what to do. Let’s do it.”

Slowly the group rose from their chairs and collected their things.

“One more thing, Dr. Poole,” Sally said. “Thank you for leveling with us.”

The group murmured in agreement.

Poole looked to her with a sober expression. “I felt you should know what kind of an enemy you’re facing.” And then she vanished from the room, leaving the group to disperse silently to their work.

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.