“That what?”
Heather closed her eyes again. “That lets an individual plug into the human collective unconscious—into the actual, literal shared mind of humanity.”
Kyle slid his lower lip behind his upper teeth, but said nothing for several seconds. Then: “How could you build such a thing?”
“I couldn’t of course—not personally. But a friend in Mechanical Engineering helped.”
“And it works?”
Heather nodded. “It works.”
Kyle was quiet for a moment. “And you—you’ve what? Connected to the overmind?”
“More than that. I’ve sailed it.”
“ ‘Sailed,’ ” said Kyle, as though he couldn’t understand the word in this context.
Heather nodded again.
Kyle was quiet for another moment. Then: “This has been a difficult time for all of us,” he said. “I hadn’t—I’m sorry honey—I hadn’t realized what a toll it had taken on you.”
Heather smiled despite herself. Like father, like daughter. “You don’t believe me.”
“I—well…”
Heather’s smile faded. She kicked herself for not thinking to bring home the videotape of the tesseract folding up. “I’ll show you. I’ll show you today. The equipment is in my office at the university.”
“Who else knows about this?”
“No one but me and Becky.”
Kyle still looked unconvinced.
“I know I should have told you before. I was going to; I really think I was going to last night. But—but it’s like nothing you can imagine. It’ll change everything, this technology. Personal privacy ceases to exist.”
“What?”
“I can access anyone—find their memories, their personality, the archives of what they are.… .”
“Yes?”
She lowered her eyes. “I connected with your mind, leafed through your memories.”
Kyle moved slightly away from her on the couch. “That’s—that’s not possible.”
Heather closed her eyes again, fighting a wave of shame. “You buy hot dogs with grilled onions from a vendor on St. George.”
Kyle’s eyes widened again.
“There’s a student in your summer AI class named Cassie. You think she’s a babe. ‘Babe’—that’s the precise word you think. You’re betraying your age, you know—the term today is ‘nova,’ isn’t it? That’s what the young people say: ‘She’s a real nova.’ ”
“You’ve been spying on me.”
Heather shook her head. “Not spying—at least not from outside.”
“But—”
“You think my thighs are corrugated—that’s another direct quote. If you’re any kind of gentleman, you’ve never said that to anyone.”
Kyle’s jaw dropped.
“The technology works. You can see why I’ve kept it secret, at least for the time being, can’t you? Your PIN—anyone’s PIN; the combination to any lock; your password—all of it could be plucked from your mind, from anyone’s mind, with this technology. There are no secrets anymore.”
“And you probed my mind without telling me? Without my permission?”
Heather lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“This is incredible. This is too much.”
“It’s not all bad,” said Heather. “I was able to prove that you hadn’t hurt Becky or Mary.”
“Prove it?” Kyle’s voice was sharp now. “You didn’t trust me—didn’t believe me?”
“I am sorry but… but they’re my daughters. I couldn’t choose between you and them. I had to know—know for certain—before I could start putting my family back together.”
“Jesus Christ,” said Kyle. “Jesus Christ.”
“I am sorry,” she said again.
“How could you keep this from me? How on earth could you keep this from me?”
Heather felt her own anger rising. She was about to snap back: How could you keep your sexual fantasies from me?
Did you tell me about your hatred of my mother?
Did you let me know what you really felt about my not yet having made tenure? About my not contributing as much financially as you did?
Did you reveal your feelings about God to me?
How could you keep so much secret from me, year after year, decade after decade, a quarter-century of deception? Minor ones, to be sure, but the cumulative effect—like a wall between us, built up brick by brick, lie by lie, omission by omission.
How could you keep all that hidden?
Heather swallowed, regaining her composure. And then a small, humorless laugh escaped her now-dry throat. Everything she’d just thought—her own anger, her own restrained feelings—would soon be laid bare before him. It was inevitable; there was no way to avoid it—no way he could resist the temptation, a temptation he’d doubtless think was his right, fair turnabout, once he himself entered the construct.
She shrugged slightly “I am sorry.”
He shifted on the couch again, as if he were about to get up.
“But,” she said, “don’t you see? Don’t you get it? It’s not just your mind, or my mind, that you could touch. It’s any mind—including, perhaps, those that are no longer active.” She reached over, took his hand, the fingers immobile. “Now, I haven’t tried this yet, but it may work. You might be able to touch Mary’s mind—the archive of it, the backed-up version.” She squeezed the hand, shaking it slightly looking for a response. “Perhaps you can make your peace with her. In a very real sense, perhaps you can.”
Kyle’s eyebrows went up.
“I know it’s not over yet,” said Heather. “But it may be. It may be soon. We may be able to put it all to rest—all the demons, all the bad times.”
“And what happens after that?” asked Kyle. “What happens next?”
Heather opened her mouth to reply, but soon closed it, realizing she had not the slightest idea.
34
As soon as they got to Heather’s office, the problem became obvious. Kyle was simply too big to get into the construct.
“Damn,” said Heather. “I’ve been meaning to do something about that.” She shrugged apologetically. “I’m afraid we’ll have to get a new one built.”
“How long will that take?”
“A few days. I’ll call Paul and—”
“Paul? Who’s that?”
Heather paused. She could say that he was just this guy over in Mechanical Engineering, but—
But there was more. And there really was no point keeping it—or anything else—from Kyle anymore.
“You’ve met him,” said Heather tentatively. “You were both on the Gotlieb Centre committee.”
“I don’t remember him.”
“He remembers you.”
Kyle said nothing, but Heather knew from her contact with Kyle’s mind that he hated it when these situations came up. Kyle was distinctive looking: the red beard, the black hair, the Roman nose. People did remember him—and that just made him self-conscious about his appearance.
“Anyway,” said Heather, “he’s the engineer who helped me build the construct. But even he doesn’t know what it’s for yet. And…”
“Yes?”
She shrugged a bit. “We spent some time together. He was interested in me.”
Kyle stiffened. “And were you interested in him?”
Heather made a small nod. “What was it someone once said? After you connect with the overmind, you’ll find out that, yes, I lusted in my heart.” She looked at the floor for a time, then raised her eyes again. “I’ll tell you the truth, Kyle. I’ve been absolutely dreading this. We have been through hell together, you and I, and it almost destroyed our marriage.” She paused. “But I don’t know if we’re going to survive this. I don’t know what you’ll think of me after you’ve seen into my mind.”