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Late April - Venice

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Shirley pranced into Dalton’s office, beaming. Dalton hunched at his desk, his back to her.

“Dalton, I just darted back from the most fascinating meeting in New York. It looks like Dorothy Anderson is working on a way to use wave patterns to read minds. It’s sort of like computer-assisted telepathy. It turns out the brain isn’t just nerves in a hard-wired network. It’s a 3D phased array. Transmitter and receiver all-in-one. Made of meat. And the patterns of waves it produces are thoughts.

“It got me wondering if Benny might benefit from some sort of telepathic therapy. It might allow a therapist to understand what’s going on in his thoughts, to find an effective treatment. It might even let him communicate better with the outside world.

“I need to call Rachel right away. I don’t want to get her hopes up too much. But I think it might be something she’d want to monitor. Maybe she could even help with the computer programming.”

Dalton nodded, but didn’t turn around.

Shirley paused. “Dalton? Are you okay?” She walked to his side and put her hand on his shoulder. 

With both hands he held a tissue over his face.

She crouched down beside him and said, “Oh, my.” She turned his swivel chair toward her, then hugged him as best she could from a crouch. He silently cried.

In a minute he sat up straight and Shirley released her hug. He turned away from her long enough to blow his nose. Then he faced her, and said, “I figured out what the rich and powerful are going to do.”

“Oh.” Shirley’s face went a shade pale.

He took a slow breath. “They’re going to kill everyone in the antigravity cloud. And everyone associated with our company, of course. They’ll blame it on terrorists. Or a computer virus that made their MAGEs kill everyone nearby. And they’ll have the government declare antigravity too dangerous for public use. They’ll back it up with a massive propaganda campaign. Then they’ll purge whoever and whatever’s left. They’ll put a huge bounty on all antigravity devices, all MEMS-printers, and anyone working with antigravity, and all websites distributing antigravity software. Anyone advocating free use of antigravity will be charged as a terrorist. They’ll take control of all MEMS-printer factories. Government and industry will gain complete control over antigravity.”

“Oh.” They were both quiet for a bit.

Shirley asked, “How many people are in the antigravity cloud?”

“It’s leveled off at about 8.4 million. All techies around the world. And most of the world’s math and science teachers. They use the cloud for teaching. Almost all computer programmers, of course. They’ll start with the US. It’s already a xenophobic corporatocracy. It won’t take much to go full fascist. Then the US will invade or bomb the rest of the world, if necessary, claiming self-preservation.”

“How did you figure it out?”

“It’s what I would do. If this were a game.”

“Maybe to them it is a game. It must be. How else could they even think ...” Her words trailed off.

His voice flat, Dalton said, “We handed them their target list on a silver platter. I don’t know how to stop it. It’s probably nearly ready for execution right now.”

Shirley said, “We’d better call Boingy.”