Sascha's World

By Lance J. Lessler

The next twenty-five years could be the most interesting, if not the most prosperous, for humankind in all human history. Whether or not we will reach the point that futurist Ray Kurzweil termed The Singularity, when computers become smarter than people, advancements in computers, biotechnology, and robotics will create unique options and dilemmas for mankind. Sascha=s World is the story of a chimpanzee with a human brain, whose talents and imagination and luck take us to a future
on the brink of the evolution of a new species of man, who never grows old. But, to make the perfection of the human race a reality, Sascha will have to deal with the corporate oligarchs who have taken over the United States, following the defeat of President Obama in 2012. Sascha=s efforts lead to a climactic campaign for President. Will there be a chimpanzee in
the White House in 2033?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479722211

Lance J. Lessler

Lance J. Lessler is a physicist who retired from the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission in January 2007, to live in a more pastoral setting in South central Pennsylvania. After thirty years of writing mostly technical papers, he decided to take a more creative bent in writing a novel of the near future. Today, with his wife, Linda, he enjoys writing, as well as playing tennis, gardening, raising White German Shepherd Dogs, and taking care of their three Nigerian Dwarf goats -- Cisco Kid, Kid Galahad, and Billy the Kid -- and a retired race horse, who raced under the name of ‘War Action.’

Book preview

Sascha’s World

Lance J. Lessler

Copyright © 2012 by Lance J. Lessler.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2012917702

ISBN:          Softcover                                 978-1-4797-2220-4

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4797-2221-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

FOREWORD

DRAFT—FOR COMMITTEE EYES ONLY

DRAFT FOR HR INTERNAL USE ONLY

Sascha’s World

I      The Big Deal

Chapter 1      Early Monday Afternoon, November 26, 2029

Chapter 2      Monday Evening, November 26, 2029

Chapter 3      Tuesday Morning, November 27, 2029

Chapter 4      Wednesday Afternoon, November 28, 2029

Chapter 5      Wednesday Evening, November 28, 2029

Chapter 6      Wednesday Evening, November 28, 2029

Chapter 7      Friday Evening, January 4, 2030

Chapter 8      Friday Evening, January 4, 2030

II      The Story

Chapter 9      Wednesday Afternoon, September 3, 1986

Chapter 10      Saturday Afternoon, September 6, 1986

Chapter 11      Wednesday Afternoon, September 24, 1986

Chapter 12      Thursday Evening, September 25, 1986

Chapter 13      Saturday Afternoon, September 27, 1986

Chapter 14      Saturday Evening, September 27, 1986

Chapter 15      Monday Afternoon, September 29, 1986

Chapter 16      Monday Evening, September 29, 1986

Chapter 17      Thursday Morning, April 16, 1987

Chapter 18      Friday Night, October 13, 1989

Chapter 19      Monday Afternoon, November 20, 1989

Chapter 20      Tuesday Evening, November 21, 1989

Chapter 21      Wednesday Morning, November 22, 1989

Chapter 22      Wednesday Afternoon, November 22, 1989

Chapter 23      Wednesday Evening, November 22, 1989

Chapter 24      Thursday Afternoon, November 30, 1989

Chapter 25      Monday Afternoon, December 4, 1989

Chapter 26      Thursday Evening, December 7, 1989

Chapter 27      Sunday Afternoon, January 14, 1990

Chapter 28      Tuesday Morning, April 17, 1990

Chapter 29      Thursday Morning, July 18, 1991

Chapter 30      Wednesday Afternoon, February 7, 1996

Chapter 31      Friday Morning, February 9, 1996

Chapter 32      Thursday Afternoon, January 26, 2012

Chapter 33      Friday Morning, February 10, 2012

Chapter 34      Thursday Evening, February 16, 2012

Chapter 35      Saturday Afternoon, February 18, 2012

Chapter 36      Saturday Evening, February 18, 2012

Chapter 37      Wednesday Night, March 7, 2012

Chapter 38      Thursday Morning, March 8, 2012

Chapter 39      Thursday Morning, March 15, 2012

Chapter 40      Sunday Morning, March 18, 2012

Chapter 41      Sunday Evening, March 18, 2012

Chapter 42      Monday Morning, August 27, 2012

Chapter 43      Tuesday Morning, November 20, 2012

Chapter 44      Tuesday Morning, February 4, 2014

Chapter 45      Thursday Morning, February 6, 2014

Chapter 46      Wednesday Morning, November 12, 2014

Chapter 47      Friday Afternoon, August 21, 2015

Chapter 48      Wednesday Afternoon, March 23, 2016

Chapter 49      Thursday Afternoon, November 16, 2017

Chapter 50      Wednesday Evening, November 22, 2017

Chapter 51      Wednesday Afternoon, September 16, 2020

Chapter 52      Tuesday Morning, September 22, 2020

Chapter 53      Thursday Evening, September 24, 2020

Chapter 54      Tuesday Afternoon, February 7, 2023

Chapter 55      Tuesday Afternoon, December 7, 2027

Chapter 56      Saturday Evening, December 11, 2027

Chapter 57      Monday Morning, March 20, 2028

III      The Campaign

Chapter 58      Saturday Afternoon, January 5, 2030

Chapter 59      Monday Morning, January 14, 2030

Chapter 60      Wednesday Afternoon, January 23, 2030

Chapter 61      Thursday Afternoon, January 28, 2030

Chapter 62      Wednesday Afternoon, February 13, 2030

Chapter 63      Thursday Morning, March 21, 2030

Chapter 64      Tuesday Afternoon, April 16, 2030

Chapter 65      Wednesday Evening, April 24, 2030

Chapter 66      Wednesday Afternoon, May 8, 2030

Chapter 67      Monday Morning, July 7, 2031

Chapter 68      Wednesday Afternoon, July 16, 2031

Chapter 69      Thursday Morning, February 5, 2032

Chapter 70      Friday Morning, August 27, 2032

Chapter 71      Thursday Evening, September 2, 2032

Chapter 72      Monday Morning, September 6, 2032

Chapter 73      Wednesday Morning, November 7, 2032

Chapter 74      Monday Afternoon, February 14, 2033

Chapter 75      Thursday Morning, September 15, 2033

Chapter 76      Thursday Evening, September 15, 2033

Chapter 77      Wednesday Morning, October 19, 2033

Chapter 78      Tuesday Morning, October 25, 2033

Chapter 79      Thursday Afternoon, January 26, 2034

Chapter 80      Tuesday Afternoon, March 21, 2034

Chapter 81      Tuesday Afternoon, April 4, 2034

Chapter 82      Tuesday Afternoon, July 18, 2034

Chapter 83      Saturday Night, September 16, 2034

Chapter 84      Saturday Night, September 16, 2034

Chapter 85      Tuesday Afternoon, September 19, 2034

Chapter 86      Tuesday Afternoon, September 19, 2034

Chapter 87      Thursday Evening, September 21, 2034

Chapter 88      Friday Morning, September 22, 2034

Chapter 89      Thursday Morning, October 19, 2034

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I, and many others, owe a debt of gratitude to Miss Elsie E. Bodnar, our high school English teacher at the Wheatley School in Old Westbury, New York. When I knew her, Miss Bodnar was the epitome of the dedicated teacher, who devoted her life to ensuring that her students understood the English language and used it correctly, knowing that it could only help us in whatever career we eventually chose. As we look into a future that festoons our educational system with modern technological marvels, to make education as widely available and inexpensive as possible, so that the greatest number of people could take advantage of it, we should not lose sight of the very human aspect of education, wherein an older and wiser person conveys what needs to be known and appreciated in life, to the younger and more innocent among us. The bond between teacher and student is one that is basic to everything that is human. It is at the core of human progress, and one that we should never abrogate through foolhardy attempts to save a buck. So, please, pay the teachers what they are worth, and put them back in the classroom and on the pedestal where they deserve to be, even if they do tend to unionize a bit more than you would like.

For any who may be interested, I and many other classmates of mine, who attended The Wheatley School, always felt privileged to have gone to Wheatley, knowing that it was worth every penny of whatever tuition charges might have been paid by our parents; but of course, there were none. You see, The Wheatley School was a public high school.

I also am thankful to a fellow classmate at Wheatley, Ms. Carol Lebreich Zaglin, who encouraged me and provided valuable feedback during my writing of this story.

And, though I can hear the music beginning to play in my head, indicating that this acknowledgment page could get overlong, I have to thank my wife, Linda, and really the entire human race who came before me, since no novel that projects into the future can have any meaning without an understanding of the context of the civilization rendered by the people who have brought us this far.

Lance Jeffrey Lessler

FOREWORD

George Santayana is well-known for his statement, Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. I would state this aphorism a slightly different way: Those who cannot project into the future are powerless to avoid the errors of the past, which pretty much reduces to, Failing to see the handwriting on the wall can really cost you.

This book is my attempt to project what I know of scientific progress and social and political trends in our society into a future that could play out in the next several decades. Of course, it is just one of many ways that our future may unfold. If Ray Kurzweil were to read this book, he would probably ask where the Hell the singularity is. The Singularity is understood to be the point at which computers become so powerful that they surpass the capabilities of human brains, and even achieve consciousness. It is supposed to arrive by 2029—but not in Sascha’s World.

There are some fantastical elements included in Sascha’s World, as I freely admit, but there are also some fairly realistic developments that are entirely reasonable to expect. For those readers who insist that their science fiction present an entirely logical progression of science and technology, based on known facts and principles, I apologize for the more fantastic aspects of this story, entertaining as they might be. But, the reader should keep in mind that the past is replete with discoveries and heretical thinking that were never imagined by most people before they came to light, and which nonetheless shape our everyday lives today. It would be negligent and unrealistic to put together a novel of the future, without including at least a little something that nobody today may be expecting.

DRAFT—FOR COMMITTEE EYES ONLY

MEMORANDUM

The attached draft Articles of Impeachment have been prepared for the Committee, based on the information that came to light as the result of certain incidents involving a member of the White House Staff and subsequent investigatory actions of the Committee. These events are summarized below. In addition, a copy of the document that was recovered from the Removable Brain Implant (RBI) belonging to the White House Chief of Staff is also attached. This document exposed certain activities within the White House, which form the basis of the impeachment articles.

On Sunday, November 12, 2034, while disembarking from a driverless limousine at B.H. Obama National Airport in Washington, DC, White House Chief of Staff, Dirk Cameron, was involved in an accident, as the result of a freak collision between two nearby ground vehicles. Although Cameron was not directly impacted by either of the vehicles, he was injured when one of the vehicles careened off the roadway in front of the terminal and caused a heavily loaded baggage cart to be overturned on top of him. Cameron lost consciousness briefly, but was revived by Federal Transportation Authority (FTA) officers, who happened to be on duty in the vicinity.

Cameron was taken to nearby Alexandria Naval Hospital Center for further examination and observation. Because Cameron had briefly lost consciousness, standard emergency protocol required that emergency medical personnel remove the RBI from the patient’s skull, so that any resuscitative attempts that might become necessary en route to the hospital would not cause brain injury.

During the transport to the hospital via MediVac variable pitch emergency vehicle (VPEV), an unanticipated weather event, believed to have involved a microburst form of wind shear, affected the VPEV and caused the pilot to temporarily lose control. The VPEV was immediately righted, without having contacted the ground, but during the event, Cameron’s RBI apparently became separated from his other belongings. Upon transfer to a gurney at the hospital’s VPEV landing area, Cameron acted very nervously about the location of his RBI, but was assured that it was with his other belongings. After examination and clearance by doctors at the hospital, Cameron was told he would be permitted to reinstall his RBI, at which time the loss of the device became apparent to all in attendance.

Hospital staff initiated a search of all areas at the hospital where Cameron and his belongings had been located and serviced, including the VPEV landing area, but the RBI could not be located. Upon special orders from the White House, the very VPEV that had been used for the transport was identified and searched. Still, the RBI was not recovered. As most people know, an RBI is a miniaturized device that is typically no bigger than an Obama dime, and is used for direct storage and retrieval of information, through a neuronal-silicon interface installed in a person’s brain. The RBI is non-magnetic and does not give off an identifying signal when excited by local radio waves, as RFID tags do.

On Wednesday, November 15, 2034, a medical serviceperson, who had been in attendance during transport of Cameron to the hospital, took his uniform to a local reprocessing facility for laundering, decontamination, and re-fireproofing, according to his established schedule. It is believed that the lost RBI had been accidentally deposited into the cuff of the serviceperson’s uniform, or into an open zippered pocket during the upset in the VPEV, on the trip to the hospital. This would explain how the RBI may have tumbled unnoticed, out of the cuff or pocket and onto the floor, as the serviceperson was going through his pockets, in preparation for reprocessing the uniform.

Several hours after the serviceperson had left the reprocessing facility, reprocessing staff found the RBI and turned it over to security staff at the facility. There was no identifying marking on the RBI, to indicate where it had come from, indicating that it might be an advanced prototype model, which is not yet commercially available. A serial number that was read from the device could not be traced. The facility’s security staff turned it over to Homeland Security Department (HSD) personnel for further examination and identification.

When the HSD personnel examined the RBI, they found that the identifying information in the RBI had been encrypted. The only decipherable information they could obtain from it was an unencrypted message that said, If found, please incinerate. The HSD personnel suspected that the RBI might contain evidence of a terrorist-planned activity or a terrorist organization, so they decided to try to decipher the encrypted information. In cooperation with CIA and FBI Security Information Processing (SIP) staff, brought in from those agencies, they attempted to decrypt the RBI information.

On Thursday, March 22, 2035, a team of HSD, FBI, and CIA staff and consultants finally succeeded in decrypting the RBI information to reveal a lengthy document describing certain activities at the White House and a wealth of background information predating the Kalman Administration by almost fifty years. Most of the information seemed to be in the form of a diary describing the early activities of Kalman’s family, including the development of the now famous nano-vaccine that Kalman’s father had used to cure victims of a bio-terror attack, that had been affecting U.S. drug agents, just before Mexico became a failed state, resulting in the Second Mexican War.

It was at this juncture that HSD personnel suspected that the subject RBI was the one that had been lost by Cameron on the MediVac VPEV. White House staff were immediately contacted, for confirmation purposes, but by the time confirmation was received, there were numerous copies of the decrypted document already circulating throughout the Federal establishment, and it wasn’t long before the document leaked to the public through Wikinet.

Although the subject document appears to begin as a chronicle of the President’s early family life, leading up to his Presidency, it took a fantastical turn, as it began to describe development of a chimpanzee with incredible capabilities. Eventually, it shows how the President allowed a member of the President’s staff, who would not qualify to serve as President, because of his alien status, to make Presidential decisions.

The document describes this person as a chimpanzee with genius-level human intelligence, but independent analysis of the document by experts, appointed by the Committee, has led to the conclusion that this attempt to paint the White House’s First Pet, the chimpanzee named Sascha, as some kind of transgenomic genius, is an obvious ploy to escape responsibility for the President’s dereliction of duty. Absent a practical demonstration of the chimpanzee’s super-intelligent capabilities, the Committee staff is convinced that the document is simply a way of speaking in code about a decidedly human, but currently unidentified, political operative in the President’s political party, who was given free reign to carry out functions of the Presidency that ought to have been reserved only to the one person elected to that office.

This person also may have participated in certain illegal activities that resulted in contamination of the food service at the House and Senate cafeterias with an unknown pharmacological agent. Such agent was designed to induce favorable views towards bills put forward in the President’s legislative agenda, which had been successfully stalled by opponents of the President, for several years. Although forensic evidence of the food contamination could not be obtained, Congressional Committee members pointed to the fact that major provisions of the President’s proposed legislation actually passed both houses and were signed into law by the President within a period of only several months following the suspected food contamination incident, a happenstance that could not be just a coincidence.

In the President’s defense, spokespersons for the President have, on numerous occasions, insisted that the document recovered from the RBI is a work of fiction, and that any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental; and also, that the portrayal of certain actions in the subject document by such characters is purely the product of the author’s imagination, and not intended to reflect on any actual persons, living or dead. If the document had not been made public inadvertently and prematurely, the final version of said document would have contained an appropriate disclaimer to that effect, the spokespersons stated.

Based upon these analyses and the conclusions of the Committee, not withstanding the denials of the White House staff and the President himself, the Staff has drafted the attached Articles of Impeachment.

Attachments:

Articles of Impeachment—Draft

Document transcript titled Sascha’s World—derived from recovered RBI

DRAFT

FOR HR INTERNAL USE ONLY

ARTICLES OF IMPEACHMENT

Passed by the U.S. House of Representatives September 17, 2035

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Resolved, that Aaron Moises Kalman, President of the United States, is impeached for high crimes and misdemeanors, and that the following articles of impeachment be exhibited to the Senate of the United States:

Articles of impeachment exhibited by the House of Representatives of the United States, in the name of itself and of the people of the United States, against Aaron Moises Kalman, President of the United States, in maintenance and support of its impeachment against him for high crimes and misdemeanors.

Article I

In his conduct while President of the United States, Aaron Moises Kalman, in violation of his constitutional oath faithfully to execute the office of President of the United States and, to the best of his ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States, and in violation of his constitutional duty to take care that the laws be faithfully executed, has willfully corrupted and manipulated the judicial process of the United States for his personal gain and exoneration, impeding the administration of justice, in that:

On August 20, 2035, Aaron Moises Kalman swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth before the Presidential Fitness Subcommittee of the Judiciary Committee of the House of Representatives of the United States. Contrary to that oath, Aaron Moises Kalman willfully provided perjurious, false and misleading testimony to the Subcommittee concerning one or more of the following:

(1) the nature and details of his relationship with a subordinate Government employee, code-named Sascha, a name deliberately given to confuse it with the name of the White House pet chimpanzee;

(2) the full extent to which he permitted a subordinate Government employee, code-named Sascha, who would never even be qualified to be President of the United, by dint of his being alien to North America, rather being a native of the continent of Africa, to make decisions and formulate Presidential Executive Orders, which powers should have been reserved to the duly elected President of the United States;

(3) his involvement, and that of the person code-named Sascha, in certain illegal activities resulting in contamination of the food services at the House and Senate cafeterias, notably the cafeteria’s famous gazpacho soup, which may have resulted in involuntary administration of a previously unknown pharmacological agent to a large number of individuals, including many members of the House and Senate. (The Staff’s report indicates that the gazpacho soup was chosen for the deleterious admixture of a pharmacological agent, because the agent could be dissolved easily, while not being subject to deactivating heat, since the soup is served cold.)

(4) his corrupt efforts to influence the testimony of witnesses and to impede the discovery of evidence in that Congressional investigation.

Article II

As President, using the Office of White House Counsel, Aaron Moises Kalman frivolously and corruptly asserted executive privilege, which is intended to protect from disclosure communications regarding the constitutional functions of the Executive, and which may be exercised only by the President. Contrariwise to the precedents duly established for the proper exercise of executive privilege, Aaron Moises Kalman

(1) exercised executive privilege with respect to communications other than those regarding the constitutional functions of the Executive, for the purpose of delaying and obstructing the proceedings of a Congressional inquiry; and

(2) refused to honor a subpoena from the Presidential Fitness Subcommittee of the Judiciary Committee of the House of Representatives of the United States, to produce the White House pet chimpanzee, named Sascha, for examination by animal science experts selected by the Congress, to determine that the animal is of ordinary constitution and incapable of the actions purported by the President, Aaron Moises Kalman, to have been taken, as described in the document that was derived from the RBI.

(3) caused an unknown formulation of a pharmacological agent to be used to contaminate the food supply in one or more Congressional cafeterias, for the purpose of causing changes in the voting behavior of Senators and Members of Congress.

In doing this, Aaron Moises Kalman has undermined the integrity of his office, has brought disrepute on the Presidency, has betrayed his trust as President, and has acted in a manner subversive of the rule of law and justice, to the manifest injury of the people of the United States.

Wherefore, Aaron Moises Kalman, by such conduct, warrants impeachment and trial, and removal from office and disqualification to hold and enjoy any office of honor, trust or profit under the United States.

Sascha’s World

I

The Big Deal

Chapter 1

Early Monday Afternoon, November 26, 2029

Aaron Kalman was gathering his belongings together in preparation for his arrival in front of a large, smoked-glass-enclosed office building in Falls Church, Virginia. The translucent bubble of the taxicab’s globe-shaped passenger cabin, and its three blue-and-yellow-striped wheel pods, made it look like a bumble bee, which was what had been intended. The busy-bee driverless electric cab got the job done most efficiently, and no tip was necessary. There was still some snow and slush in evidence, from an unusually early snow fall, of several inches, on the previous day.

It was early afternoon on a crisp November day in the Washington, DC area, with only three days to go before Thanksgiving. The sky was fully overcast, and the air had enough of a snap to it that Aaron wished he had brought a warmer coat. Being a Florida native, he didn’t have the cultural tradition that would allow him to enjoy such wintry conditions. Kalman turned to lead a large white German shepherd dog out of the cab to stand beside him, as the cab finished giving its trip-ending spiel.

This cab has reached its destination. Thank you for your business. We hope you enjoyed your travel with BeeLine AutoCab today. Please ensure that all your baggage and other personal items have been removed from the cab before pressing the ‘End Trip’ button on the outside of the cab, or simply say ‘End Trip’. This cab may remove itself from the area upon receiving the ‘End Trip’ command, or after five minutes of standing idle while unoccupied. Please stand clear of the vehicle as it departs. Or, to have your cab wait, while incurring additional time charges, you may hit the ‘Wait’ button, or say ‘Wait Here’. To resume your trip, press the ‘New Trip’ button on the side of the cab, and reenter the cab, or say ‘New Trip,’ before five minutes have elapsed. Please complete our customer satisfaction survey at your convenience, which shortly will be delivered to your email address of record.

Aaron dismissed the cab by pressing the ‘End Trip’ button. The cab said, Please hit the ‘End Trip’ button again to confirm the end of your trip, or say ‘End Trip’ again. He hit the button again and turned toward the building. He wasn’t watching, as the door to the cabin closed automatically. The driverless vehicle began it’s artificial ‘engine’ hum, moved about a hundred yards further down the street, sashayed suddenly to the right, in an all-wheel steering maneuver, and entered the nearest system-selected vacant parking location. The cab began its wireless charging process and went into standby status, waiting for another fare.

Most metropolitan taxi and rental fleets were now fully automated, with no need for human drivers. But, only a small fraction of privately owned passenger vehicles employed the automatic control technologies that permitted a vehicle to be driverless, even though most insurance companies offered premium discounts for those who opted for it. There were also many unredeemed state and Federal income tax rebates for those committing to the driverless technology. For many, it was a control issue. Too many drivers focused on the few fatalities caused by the failures of driverless vehicle control systems, ignoring the fact that the mortality and morbidity rates for incidents involving driverless vehicles were far lower than for human-controlled vehicles. Others could not resist the lure of speeding and weaving through traffic, which was something one could not experience in a driverless vehicle.

Aaron read the name of the building, which was displayed on an electronic sign with huge lettering across the top of the building, announcing, ‘Meyer Robotics, a Progressive Corporation’. Aaron and the white shepherd navigated through some self-powered double revolving front doors to enter the building. With a beat-up genuine leather briefcase in one hand, and the people-end of a worn genuine leather leash in the other, he approached the guard desk directly in front of them. A burly, armed guard, in a snappy uniform, looked up as they reached the desk, waiting for Aaron to speak up.

I’m Aaron Kalman, from Sascha’s World. I have an appointment to see Howard Fontaine.

The guard appeared to briefly stare into space, slightly to his left, as he focused on a holographic image of Aaron, projected into space by his headband. Then, looking back at Aaron, the guard said, Ah, yes, Mr. Kalman. Mr. Fontaine is expecting you. Can I confirm your ID?

Aaron pulled out a 2-centimeter thick mass of leather, plastic, and paper from his right-front pants pocket, with some degree of difficulty. It contained his laminated Florida driving license, with its RFID chip. The guard requested that he swipe his wallet across the ID scanner. Instantaneously, Aaron’s photo appeared on the screen in front of the guard. Aaron started to place the overstuffed wallet back in his pocket, but then decided it would be more efficient, and less trouble, to wait until the guard acknowledged that he was cleared. For a scientist, thoroughly ensconced in the age of technology, Aaron’s clinging to the anachronism that was his wallet, seemed a strange contradiction; but then, Aaron also was an attorney.

Fumbling with the wallet, a flavor-pac for water, and a pocket-sized notebook, all of which seemed to come out of his pocket at the same time, all the time trying to hang on to the leash, the wallet dropped to the floor. Immediately, the shepherd picked it up and held it patiently in his soft mouth, until Aaron was ready to take it from him.

Hey, that’s pretty good! Does he do anything else? the guard asked.

You would be surprised! said Aaron.

The guard entered the license information into his system and requested that Aaron look into the retinal examiner, on the desk, to confirm Aaron’s identity. Finally, the ID process completed, the guard said, Please have a seat, Mr. Kalman. Someone will be down here to take you up to see Mr. Fontaine shortly. But, you’ll have to leave the dog here. We don’t allow pets in our building. You can leave him in that interview room behind me. Is he housebroken? Does he bite? The guard was referring to a small, glassed-in room, behind him, with a table and some chairs.

Oh, Kaiser isn’t a pet. As a matter of fact, Kaiser is the main reason I’m here. Call Mr. Fontaine, if you need to get permission, but I’m sure Mr. Fontaine will want to see him.

Aaron spotted a group of dark blue fabric-covered, well-cushioned lounge chairs in the area, adjacent to a pair of escalators to his left. He managed to wrestle the wallet back into his pocket and, clutching the briefcase in one hand, and with the leash in the other, he led Kaiser to one of the chairs, and sat down. Kaiser remained standing, moving first one way and then the other, trying to take in his new surroundings. From the chair he had chosen, Aaron could see a bank of elevators around the corner from the guard desk. Huge plate-glass windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling of the upper level, in a grandiose waste of space that was designed obviously for the super rich. Around the perimeter of both levels, there were various kiosks, purveying food, news and literary kindles, exotic coffees, disposable raincoats and umbrellas, and other necessities. Comfortable-looking tables and chairs were distributed unevenly about the area, with luxurious indoor plants of various types serving as focal points for each furniture cluster. He continued to look about nervously, rehearsing his sales pitch in his mind, intent on making this very singular sales call an unqualified success.

Aaron was not a salesman by training or temperament, but only by circumstance. He was primarily a corporate lawyer. But, someone had to make this pitch, and Sascha couldn’t do it. His father, Henri, was going to make this call, but came down with a bad cold shortly before the time of the appointment. It wouldn’t do to have him sneezing and coughing in Fontaine’s face, at this very important meeting, and in view of his employer’s fragile condition. A later meeting with the subject of this mercy mission would be impossible, if there was any chance of infecting the man, in view of his already compromised immune system. Maybe it was better for Aaron to be there anyway, in case his pitch proved sufficiently interesting, that Fontaine would want to immediately start discussing details, which is what Aaron was good at. There might not be time to fly in a second team to handle the details.

Mr. Kalman, Miss Taylor is on her way down, and will escort you up to see Mr. Fontaine.

Aaron soon spotted someone he thought was Taylor, as the doors of one of the elevators opened, and she emerged into the lobby. Her dark blue business suit was—all business. She had a business-style white blouse underneath her business-style suit coat, with some kind of cravat, and neatly coifed, dirty blonde, mid-length business-styled hair. He was just saying to himself that it would be nice if this hadn’t been a business situation, because he might have even had the guts to introduce himself and come up with some line.

Just then, as she approached, the AD3 unit contained in his removable brain implant, or RBI, issued a silent alarm—a warning message in big red flashing letters projected on his right contact lens. He quickly thought about his AD3 account and saw information about an approaching AD3 contact. There she was on his lens, but not in her business uniform. She appeared smiling in a tennis outfit, holding a racket, smiling, as if to say, ‘Tennis, anyone?’ He thought about activating the video icon, and saw her swinging the racket in a wide arc, and a ball sailing by a few inches over the net and past her opponent.

He was glad he left his AD3 application engaged, even though it was an oversight. The operating system for the AmourDowser 3.0 Social Networking Application, one of Sascha’s first inventions, was designed to take advantage of all the genetic tests and information that had been developed at Sascha’s lab. The display clearly stated that it was good manners to turn off the silent alarm feature in business situations. But, when did the business situation begin? That wasn’t so clearly stated. He would have been ethically clear if he turned off the ‘Alarm Ready’ icon just before he got in the elevator, wouldn’t he have? It wasn’t his fault they sent a dream girl down to get him, rather than an office boy. But, here she was, and according to his AD3 app, she was highly rated by the AD3 service to be both genetically and psychologically compatible.

What was even more remarkable was that she must have had her AD3 unit on, as well. She probably didn’t have an RBI—just an AD3 app on her cell phone. Still, his and her AD3 units registered matches only if both were on and within Bluetooth 9.0 range. He wondered if she had turned her alarm off, even though he knew her AD3 had to have shaken hands with his, via Bluetooth.

Now, however, he could not pursue anything involving the silent match that had been made. As she approached, Aaron could barely make out a slight bulge in the chest area of her suit jacket, where her breasts should be, and her hips were—were just right! Tennis hips; the kind of hips that could propel her powerfully around the court, yet not so full that they would be a hindrance to long distance running. Gorgeous hips, a triumph of natural selection. Perfect for holding onto while… Could she tell that he was checking her out? Clearly, by her businesslike countenance, he was pretty sure that she wasn’t checking him out. No sultry invitations for a later rendezvous would be forthcoming.

Hi, Mr. Kalman. I’m Leah. I can take you up to see Mr. Fontaine now.

Okay, Kaiser, let’s go, Aaron said, as he rose and motioned to Kaiser, who had been in a down-stay next to his chair.

And this is the dog? Leah asked. He’s beautiful. Is he a German Shepherd? I didn’t know German Shepherds could be white. Her smile was effusive. He thought he was about to score. He was about to answer, as would have been proper, if the ‘Boy meets girl; girl likes dog’ script would have been followed religiously. But, Leah didn’t give him a chance.

If you’ll follow me, Mr. Kalman, I’ll take you upstairs. Disappointingly, Leah was all business again. Mr. Fontaine had a pretty busy day scheduled, but he canceled some other appointments because he was interested in hearing what you have to say, after your phone call yesterday.

Aaron followed Taylor to the elevator and they both stepped in and turned around to face the front. Kaiser followed Aaron into the elevator and turned about at heel, and automatically sat, as if it were an obedience trial. There were no other riders, and neither Leah nor he thought of turning to the other to discuss the weather, or whatever. Kaiser suddenly crouched, as if to regain his footing, not being used to the change in gravity, as the elevator started upward. It was the first time in an elevator for Kaiser, and Aaron hadn’t thought to prepare him in any way for the strange sensation. Kaiser began to pant a bit, his long tongue hanging out to one side, not knowing what to anticipate next.

When the elevator reached the twentieth floor, and they experienced another change in gravity, Kaiser was more at ease than when his gravity changed the first time. The door opened, and Aaron and Kaiser followed Leah into a penthouse office area. Aaron was surprised to find it furnished more like a tropical paradise, than a business office. It even had a wet bar with palm fronds and coconuts scattered about. In one corner of a fairly large open area, there was a reception desk, that reminded him of one in the lobby of a Carribean resort hotel he once stayed at. There were no light fixtures in view. The domed ceiling seemed to be about thirty feet high, at its center. with a number of potted palm trees placed attractively throughout the room, if you could call it a room. He was pretty sure that the palm trees were real, since they all had different patterns of fronds, and there were even a few browned fronds on the floor, as if they had been shed naturally. The open area was as large as a small high school gymnasium, with no supporting pillars in view. This was undoubtedly the penthouse level. All the lighting seemed to be diffused from glowing walls and a domed, sky-bluish ceiling, with traces of a rosy color in one quadrant, giving the appearance of being outdoors in a tropical environment just before sunset.

If one looked closely, one could detect various items of office equipment, but they looked out of place in the overall environment of the super-office. Partitions were placed to separate various areas with different purposes, but they appeared to be made of plant material. They looked like the screens you might see in the lobby at a resort hotel in the Bahamas, rather than in a business office in Washington, DC. There were also several glass or plastic enclosed aviaries integrated into the office environment, with large and small birds in bright colors, flitting about from one tree or perch to another. It was a fitting office for the right-hand man of a billionaire, who would rather be on the beach.

A middle-aged, slightly balding man, with only the hint of a paunch, greeted them, as Miss Taylor returned to the elevator and disappeared behind the sliding doors. Aaron couldn’t stop thinking of her—whether he would ever see her again, whether she had registered the slightest interest in him. But, he had to get his mind back on the business at hand.

It’s not very professional-looking, but it relaxes me, the man said, as he raised his arms and turned about to figuratively take in the entire decor. I don’t get to the Carribean as often as I would like, so I brought it here. The man introduced himself as Howie, and coaxed them further into his office paradise.

Come in, come in, Fontaine said. Aaron thought he was in. Would you like a drink? A Margarita, maybe? A Bahama Mama?

The most I ever have is a Pina Colada. And, I usually have it without alcohol, Aaron said, realizing how boyish it made him sound, even though he was well into his thirties.

Fontaine spoke into his press-to-talk device, worn on his wrist, like a watch. Thelma, can you bring me a Pina Colada? And, make it a virgin.

Then, Fontaine thought to offer something for the dog.

Just a little water would be fine, Aaron said, as he took a collapsible bowl out of his pocket and set it up on the floor to contain the water, that was on its way.

Good idea. Fontaine said, referring to the bowl, that he hadn’t seen before.

First, Mr. Kalman, I wanted to shake your hand. I understand that your company was the one that designed the nanovaccine that repulsed the Mexican prion attack. That must have saved thousands of people before it was all over. You guys must be very proud of yourselves. Now, what is this new treatment you told Thelma about, on the phone? Can it really do everything you said it could?

Mr. Fontaine, . . .

Please, call me Howie, and… can I call you Aaron? Or, do you have another nickname? What do they call an Aaron for short, anyway? Ary? Ar? Ron?

Aaron is fine, . . . uh… Howie.

I contacted you because we knew that your employer, Franklin Meyer, is very sick…

We understand that Mr. Meyer’s doctors have advised him to place his affairs in order, and that he is now under hospice care, Aaron continued. It must be very discouraging when someone reaches the end of a course of medical treatment, and the doctor tells him there isn’t anything else that can be done. The only way we know about this is because we have a mutual friend that let us know about Mr. Meyer’s condition, . . . Stu Borowitz, . . . who knew something about what we were doing, and wondered if we could help.

You might be aware, Aaron continued, that our company owns about five percent of the stock in your company, and that we’ve cooperated on a number of projects, in our development of Futuretown, such as our driverless vehicles.

Yes, Aaron, I am certainly aware of our connection with Sascha’s World and Futuretown. We’re very proud of what we’ve been able to do there together. But, of course, this is now a lot more personal.

Fontaine’s face took on a serious demeanor, as he quietly said, Yeah, it’s a real bummer. After all that Frank has accomplished and all the lives he’s enriched with his robots, it’s just so frustrating that he can’t invent something to save his own life. But, he’s a great man and he’s become rather philosophic about it. He’s at peace with himself at this point.

Well, before he gives up entirely, we think that it may not have to be that way. As I explained on the phone, we may be able to offer a way out. I think the time has come that we can help. If we are successful, I think we may be able to reverse the course of Frank’s illness, restore him to health, and then some. Stu said that you could be trusted to keep a secret.

Yes, of course.

I don’t mean just any secret. I mean a secret that has to be kept at all cost. The world, as we know it, may depend on it, Aaron warned.

Fontaine reiterated his assurance. Aaron, one doesn’t rise to the top of a highly technological industry to control thirty-nine percent of the robot market, without being able to keep a secret. Trade secrets are what keep us alive, more than our patents. Ever hear of Coke?

Aaron felt a nervous emptiness in the pit of his stomach, as he began his pitch. Well, what I have to say should be prefaced by my introducing you to my friend, Kaiser, here.

Hi, Kaiser! He’s really beautiful. What kind of dog is he? Does he have any wolf in him?

I would say that all dogs have a little wolf in them, Aaron said.

Here, give him a treat, so he doesn’t attack, said Fontaine, as he grabbed a donut off a nearby tray, and offered it to Aaron. No, I’m kidding.

He’s very friendly once he gets to know you. Aaron pulled a small bone-shaped cookie out of his pocket and handed it to Fontaine. There was talk that some of the early German Shepherds had been crossed with wolves, but I don’t believe it was documented. That was more than a century ago, before the breed really officially got started. No, he’s just a plain old German Shepherd, but a white one. There used to be lots of white German Shepherds, until the Germans disqualified them from breed registration, based on some sort of unscientific Nazi nonsense.

So, he’s a rare breed, then?

Oh, he’s rare, alright. In fact, he’s one of a kind, Aaron answered.

Aaron disattached Kaiser’s leash, gave him a command, and sent him to the other end of the huge room, where he turned around, sat down, and waited for his next command. Kaiser bristled in position, tongue lolling, leaning forward, in readiness, waiting for his next command. Aaron moved a love seat into the path between Kaiser and himself, and moved back to his original position at the other end of the room. Then, he gave a second command, upon which, Kaiser ran towards him, easily leaped over the love seat, that was in his way, and came to a sitting position in front of Aaron… again, tongue lolling, waiting for his next command. Kaiser did this with seemingly the least amount of effort, yet almost flying over the love seat with much room to spare, as graceful as any ballet dancer or Olympic gymnast.

Howie stared at Kaiser in open-mouthed wonder, clearly impressed.

Howie, how old would you say German Shepherds get to be?

I guess they can live to about ten or twelve years old, right? The bigger dogs don’t live as long as the smaller ones, I heard.

Well, Howie, my Mom raised white German Shepherds for many years, and you’re right. The typical German Shepherd lives only to about 10 or 12. But, there was one, a number of years ago, that my Mom grew particularly attached to. He had a terrific temperament. He tried so hard to please. He seemed to anticipate her needs, and was always ready to help any way he could. If she dropped something, he picked it up. If she misplaced her cell phone, he would sniff it out and bring it to her. It was purposely scented to allow him to find it easily. If anyone would raise his voice to her, he would warn them with a low growl. He actually saved her life one day, she says, when he chased off a would-be attacker at a dimly lit parking garage about fifteen years ago. He actually bit the guy’s ass as he was running away. It was very distressing after that experience, about five years ago now, when the dog came up lame, and was subsequently diagnosed with an osteosarcoma on a rear leg.

Fontaine commiserated, Yeah, that can be tough. But, why are you telling me all this?

Aaron gave him the punch line. That dog is Kaiser!

But, how… ? I mean, that’s bone cancer. I didn’t think they lasted very long once they get bone cancer, Fontaine exclaimed in wonderment.

Kaiser is more than nineteen years old, and he no longer has cancer, blankly stated Aaron.

No! How could he be nineteen? He looks to be in such great shape. And his legs are fine, judging by how easily he took that love seat.

Our studies have found that a body’s cells have genes that actually control cell death as a normal cell process. Most cells normally die, to make room for other cells that divide, and go on living. In the gestation process, the proper shaping of various appendages and organs depends on the ability of the organism to grow certain kinds of cells, but also to kill off other cells, before the animal is ready to be born. As you get older, that normal process of cell death gets twisted, and cells start dying before their time. Sometimes, cells become dysfunctional, and keep on reproducing, when their normal programming for death fails. We call them cancers. There is a normal balance of cell death and cell growth that your body maintains in your youth. That process begins to fail as you get older, eventually resulting in various diseases that finally lead to death of the entire organism, unless you get run over by a bus first. Aaron explained.

Aaron continued, Evolution has fine-honed our bodies to perform incredibly for the first fifty or so years of our lives, but after that, evolution doesn’t seem to give a crap. By that time of life, we’ve fulfilled our biological destinies by growing to adulthood, reproducing, and passing on our knowledge to our grandchildren. There doesn’t seem to be a biological imperative for our sticking around much longer than that. Accordingly, our bodies’ design hasn’t been continuously improved over the eons to keep us going when we get older. That’s where our Futuretown Labs people have stepped in. They’ve discovered a way to control the way our bodies are managed as we age. Right now, we accomplish this with nanomachines. Eventually, we will learn to manipulate our genes to accomplish the same thing. The current treatment involves the injection of an army of in vivo nanocontrollers, or micro-miniature machines that are so small that they can easily travel through the body and enter most cells. These nanocontrollers act in some ways like vaccines. The treatment can cure most cancers, and at the same time, restore general cell health. The individual then can live normally, with full vigor, for an extended period, until the next treatment. We call it LifeX, short for life extension.

So, you think this treatment will work on Frank? Have you tested it on humans?

Frank would be the first. But, as you can see, we have gotten it to work fine for Kaiser. Based on what we understand the treatment does, we feel confidant that it will work similarly on people. Ordinarily, we would have conducted human trials at this point, but in view of Frank’s condition, I don’t think he has much to lose by becoming the first human to undergo the treatment. If it works well on Frank, we plan to use it on ourselves also. I might add that Sascha has had the treatment done on himself, and there have been no adverse effects from that. So, in all likelihood, the treatment would do no harm, even if it does no good. But, in Meyer’s shape, his being in hospice care, adverse effects would not be relevant.

Has the FDA or NIH examined this treatment? You must have been experimenting with it a number of years already. I would have thought that you would have had this treatment in human trials by now.

Howie, the treatment has two effects. Yes, we can cure cancer, or at least, most cancers, as far as we know. But, at the same time, there is the ‘Fountain of Youth’ effect. Do you know what would happen to the national economy, or the world economy, if this treatment were to be administered en masse, to millions of people, assuming they could afford it? You would have millions of people living on indefinitely, consuming resources, while additional people would be born at the normal rate of reproduction. There would be a population explosion. Population would quickly outstrip available resources, and mass starvation would quickly overwhelm the world’s economies. That could lead to total economic and social collapse. We can’t introduce this technology to the general population without first laying the groundwork for social change. That will require a lot of preparation, to bring about the kinds of social changes needed to make it safe for the world’s populations. To do that, I think we would have to run one of our guys for President, to lead the nation in the right direction and make sure the right policies are in place—and we are doing that.

Yes, I can see where death is necessary, to keep our numbers in control. So, what’s the plan? said Fontaine.

We think we can save Frank, and restore him to a life of vigor, that he would be able to maintain indefinitely, through booster treatments given every ten years. Some percentage of the nanocontrollers are lost through normal excretory processes, and have to be replenished in a refresher treatment. But, we will need to do what we do quietly. There can be no publicity. Eventually, we may even have to hide Frank from the public, so it is not noticed that he seems to be defying the normal aging process. That wouldn’t be very unusual. The world is used to wealthy recluses.

And, there is a price. Obviously, we can’t price this treatment in the normal way. We can’t market our technology to the public on a massive scale. Therefore, we will have to extract hefty fees for the treatment from just a few deserving individuals who can afford it.

The price? Fontaine asked.

A billion dollars, Aaron said matter-of-factly.

A billion dollars?!! . . . Fontaine said, somewhat aghast.

That’s quite a hefty fee for a doctor’s visit! Is that negotiable? Fontaine said, almost kidding.

Look, Howie, according to public records—as they used to say, on paper—we know Frank is worth about forty billion dollars. He could easily afford the treatment. You and Frank must have realized for awhile now, that you can’t take it with you. We offer the next best thing. You still won’t be able to take it with you, but we can arrange that you won’t have to leave, . . . at least, not real soon.

The pitch was unexpectedly flowing freely from Aaron’s tongue now, as he got into some of the details. Aaron was in his element.

We’ve extended Kaiser’s life now to about double what would have been expected—and counting We don’t know how long this treatment can continue to extend his life or Frank’s life, but as long as it does, Frank should be in great shape to enjoy life the way he wants to lead it. And, don’t forget. He will be collecting compound interest on his investments the whole time. We suggest a fee of a billion dollars for the original treatment, payable one full year after the doctors say Frank should have died. Thereafter, each refresher treatment will cost 10 million. Of course, there will be a non-disclosure agreement, with a specified penalty of thirty billion, in case the treatment becomes public knowledge through Frank’s action. We can start with Frank. If you wish, we also can treat you at no additional cost. I’m guessing Frank would want you to continue managing his affairs, so he wouldn’t want you to age more than he does. You may not have cancer, but you would continue to be in excellent medical condition for an extended period. And, you would be capable of getting into even greater physical shape with the proper diet and exercise, so you wouldn’t appear to age over a period of decades. We really don’t know if the treatment would reverse your male-pattern balding, but that’s another research project. We’ve conducted our research with our own capital resources for about twenty years now, so we own our discoveries outright, and are under no compulsion to make them available publicly. Of course, with a significant infusion of cash, assuming Frank’s participation, our research can continue on a grander scale, and perhaps we will be able to develop additional treatments that can be made public."

Howie sat down on the edge of a nearby recliner, visibly stunned by what he had just learned. I guess I will have to bring this to Frank and get his decision right away. Would you be able to come to his residence in Virginia? I can’t believe this is happening. Our whole outlook is changed. We’ve been fixated on just preparing for the inevitable, but now…

Oh, there is still the inevitable, I’m sure. We don’t know how long the treatment can be continued successfully; we’ll just have to find out by getting there. But, if Kaiser is any indication, you can look forward to either a good additional ten years, or maybe to extending your life expectancy to about a hundred and fifty years, about double what you now have to look forward to. I would be real careful stepping off of curbs. We can’t prevent injury from accidents, but we might be able to prevent complications during recovery from one. Also, from what I’ve heard, you may not have a whole lot of time to decide. I understand that Frank isn’t in the best of shape. There may be a point at which not even our treatment will be able to save him. It will be a numbers game. How many of his cells are normal and functional, versus how many are adversely affected. How quickly we can build up his immune system, versus how quickly he is going down hill. We just don’t know.

Howie finally looked down at Kaiser, prompted by the nuzzling of his hand, as Kaiser looked for another treat. Can you be in Virginia tomorrow? I’ll take you there myself, if necessary.

Chapter 2

Monday Evening, November 26, 2029

Aaron and Kaiser arrived back at their motel in Seven Corners, Virginia by around eight in the evening. Aaron dropped Kaiser off at his motel room, after letting him relieve himself on a patch of mulch around a planting, adjacent to the parking lot. Then, he went to pick up some take-out food from the motel’s two-star restaurant. He made note of his account balance, as he stepped up to the retinal examiner, and clicked the Okay button, to pay for his dinner. Returning to the room, he got a plastic bag, filled with Kaiser’s kibble, out of his luggage, and mixed it with a bit of warm water from the sink. It was a far cry from the raw diet Kaiser enjoyed at home at Sascha’s World, but this was the easiest thing to do while traveling.

Kaiser didn’t seem to mind. He generally ate anything put in front of him without complaint.

Aaron downed the ham and cheese sandwich he had gotten for himself, giving Kaiser some of the crust, and took Kaiser for a little walk. It was now time to contact Sascha and his father, to let them know whether they were in business or not.

Back in the room, Aaron sat down in a chair, situated in front of a small writing table. An outside observer would notice only that Aaron appeared to be staring at a mirror on the wall. When he was ready, Aaron thought about connecting a video call through the hotel’s local wi-fi network, via his RBI. Shortly, he saw on the computer screen projected on his right contact lens that the connection was successful and the video call began.

Connecting… Please wait.

Initiating 512-bit Cyber-Craft Full encryption.

Sascha? Dad?

Aaron? I can hear you, but the video is still buffering, replied Henri Kalman.

Now I have video on my end, Dad. Is Sascha there?

He’ll join us in a minute. He was in the rec center, working out on his Jungle Gym, when you rang. So, what’s the deal? Did they buy it?

First, tell me how much my commission will be.

Yeah, funny. Until we know it works, you’ll have to settle for an ownership stake.

Is Sascha having second thoughts again? After years working with Kaiser, you would think he’d be more confident.

Genetic engineering isn’t like building a bridge. Complications are always cropping up. It’s a lot more complicated than the simple dominant and recessive gene combinations you learned about in grade school. Genes actually fight with each other for expression. You never know when a gene is going to come up with a new imprinting trick.

Yeah, but I thought Sascha pretty much figured out how to stabilize the gene expression see-saw to control all the critical bodily functions in mice and dogs. Wouldn’t it be the same in humans?

"That’s what we intend to find out. No animal study mirrors human results one hundred percent. What did Fontaine think about