But Kevin was thinking about something else, too. He was thinking about how obsessed, how driven some of those students could become.
Leverage.
“How do I know you’ll play fair by me? And what makes you think I won’t expose you, cause… disturbance? Then my society would collapse, not advance. And you’d lose the contest.”
[You would not do such a thing.]
“You can’t know that.”
The Centerplace continued to take shape around him. Openings formed in the walls and ceiling, passages leading to new chambers the nanites were sculpting out of the rock even as he watched. For a long time, Mind remained silent. Kevin began to fear that he’d overplayed his hand when his forehead tingled and the voice of Mind spoke once again.
[What must we do to prove our good faith?]
The Centerplace gleamed around him—a castle, a sanctuary. But only a beginning.
Kevin smiled. “Now you’re talking turkey,” he said. Mind created a chair for him. Kevin sat. Chomping his gum, he thought about the rat race that had been his life, the urge for greatness that had never been fulfilled. What did he want? What did he really want, deep down? That secret island resort, yeah. Money, lots of money. And don’t forget the girls.
Mind smiled.
“Maybe we’re God’s nanites,” Kevin said, thinking aloud. “Maybe He sent us out into the machine of His creation, sent us out to fix all the little things that might go wrong.” Kevin sighed. “Or maybe not. Could go either way.”
Mind showed him glimpses of a future—a future that had a pleasing shape. No rat race. No scrabbling for dollars. No leaky gaskets or late payment notices.
And where VCRs had become totally obsolete.