Matt Griffin rolled his eyes. “you’re really gonna fit right in here, aren’t you?”
“I have to admit, I enjoy kicking around big ideas. And since this group has the chance to turn just about any big idea into reality someday, it’s even more intriguing.” He motioned to Kira. “But let me circle back to something you said earlier, if I may. You’ve really found a way to double the span of human life? Why haven’t I heard about this?”
Kira described her longevity treatment further, and then the subsequent analysis that convinced her its release would lead to disaster. “Since this time, we’ve been careful to examine any major breakthrough we come up with to see what impact it might have if unleashed. Unintended consequences. As you pointed out, even immortality has them.” She sighed. “But I have to say we’ve been rethinking this position.”
“Why? It seems like a reasonable one.”
“Centralized planning doesn’t work,” replied Desh. “History has demonstrated this over and over, although many refuse to accept the evidence. Besides, in any advance there are winners and losers. If we had invented the car in the nineteenth century, would we have released it? Or would we have concluded it would be too big a blow to the thriving horse industry? Too radical a change for society to digest?”
“Think The End of Eternity,” said Kira, raising her eyebrows. “By your favorite author.”
In The End of Eternity, Asimov envisioned a huge bureaucracy existing outside of time, which could make changes to the time stream wherever it wanted. The group was genuinely devoted to ensuring the best outcome for the most people, and so would change history away from wars and other disasters. It would eliminate risky discoveries and innovations. It opted for the status quo, for not upsetting the apple cart. But this benevolent intent ended in disaster.
Progress and evolution, by their very nature, could be painful and cause upheaval. A sober, safe analysis would often steer civilization away from dramatic advances. Yet sometimes the birthing pains of a revolutionary advance were the price of survival and advancement of the species.
Van Hutten rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Interesting. Haven’t thought of this book in ages. But I understand what you’re saying.”
“We’re smart enough while enhanced to realize we’re not smart enough to be central planners,” explained Desh. “Still, we’re clinging to our paranoia just a little longer. And as far as doubling the span of human life, this is too far beyond the normal progression to be absorbed, even in a traumatic way. Doing this in one fell swoop will break civilization’s back.”
“That’s why you’re so important to our efforts,” said Kira. “You could be the key that allows us to disclose this discovery—and all others as well.”
Van Hutten tilted his head in confusion. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“The bottom line is this,” said Kira. “Inexpensive and efficient faster-than-light travel makes all of these problems go away. Right now, humanity has all of its eggs in one basket. As a species, we’re exceedingly vulnerable to catastrophe. If Earth gets hit by a meteor—we’re done. If we blow ourselves up—we’re done. But if we colonize the cosmos,” she said, her voice becoming passionate and her eyes more alive than ever, “even if the Earth is destroyed, humanity lives on. We can extend our lives as long as we can manage without fear of overpopulation. No invention would ever have to be withheld. Humanity’s place in the universe and continued growth would be assured.” She paused. “But it all hinges on our ability to rise from our planetary cradle and put our eggs in many other baskets.”
Van Hutten nodded vigorously, dazzled by the vision Kira had laid out in her typical, mesmerizing fashion. “It’s obvious once you point it out,” he said. “Truly a cause worth believing in. It goes without saying that I’m at your disposal.”
“You’re not making that offer just to Kira, personally, are you?” asked Griffin playfully.
Van Hutten chuckled. “I meant the entire group, of course,” he replied innocently. “I’m at the disposal of the Center for Research Excellence.”
“Actually,” said Griffin, “there is no such thing. We make up a different name for our fictitious think tank for every recruit.”
“The true name of our organization is Icarus,” said Kira.
“ Icarus?”
“Yeah,” said Desh with a grin. “We figured every good radical, covert organization should have a name. And Al-Qaeda was already taken.”
Van Hutten laughed.
“Jim Connelly and I wanted to go with something less symbolic, less comic-booky,” continued Desh. “But the geeks are in the majority here, so we were outvoted.”
“I see,” said van Hutten. “I have to admit, it is a geeky name. But once you think about it for a second, it’s a good one. Icarus. The Greek who flew too close to the sun. A cautionary tale of the dangers of hubris.”
Kira nodded. “We thought it was appropriate,” she said. “A reminder not to get carried away with ourselves. And given that hubris becomes overwhelming when we’re enhanced, not a bad thought to keep in the back of our minds.”
“So welcome to Icarus,” said Griffin. “It’s great to have someone of your caliber join our efforts.”
The other three members of the group nodded their agreement.
“Thanks,” replied van Hutten.
The physicist turned to David Desh with a more sober expression. “You said earlier things weren’t going so well. What did you mean by that?”
Desh paused for a moment as though deciding where to begin. “Recruitment has gone slower than we anticipated,” he replied. “Finding accomplished scientists who can pass our screens has proven more difficult than we had thought. We could lower our standards—after all, the four of us couldn’t have passed—but the danger of a single mistake is greater than you might imagine.”
“And cheap, efficient faster-than-light travel is proving far more intractable of a problem than we had guessed,” added Griffin.
“Yeah,” said Desh in amusement, “even expensive, inefficient FTL travel is proving impossible.”
“We naively thought that if we enhanced any good physicist a few times,” said Kira, “they’d come up with revolutionary solutions. But this hasn’t been the case. The few physicists who’ve joined us have made remarkable advances in many areas. But as far as FTL is concerned . . . not so much.” She frowned deeply. “And everything—everything—depends on us solving this problem.”
“What makes you so sure I can do it?”
“We’re not. But in this area, you’re in a league of your own. So we are hopeful.”
“Thanks for the compliment. But what if I strike out as well?”
Kira sighed. “There is one other possibility I’ve been working on,” she replied. A pained expression crossed her face and she looked as though she wasn’t eager to elaborate further.
Van Hutten waited patiently for her to continue.
“There is a higher level of enhancement,” she said finally. “Far higher.”
“Far higher?” repeated van Hutten dubiously. “I don’t believe it. Hard to imagine how what I just experienced could possibly be surpassed.”
“Not just surpassed. Blown away. The first level is impossible to imagine, also, unless you’ve been there. But the second level . . .” Kira’s eyes widened and she shook her head in awe. “I was there for five minutes. But my mind was moving so fast it felt like five days. I can’t recall most of the thoughts I had, but I do know this: this level was as far beyond what you just experienced as this level is beyond normal. And it came with the greatest bonus of alclass="underline" it was so transcendent that the pull of sociopathy and megalomania was totally gone.”