Jo-el

Chapter 6 NEXT STEP

“What now?” I said.

“I think we should fit the eye-buds.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No, it’s quick and painless and then you’ll be able to talk to me anywhere without the disc monitor.” She indicated the business card thingy, still handing in mid-air.

“So why did I need it in the first place?”

“It will be useful, you’ll see.” But I didn’t.

“Okay. What do I do?”

“Pick up the little box on the table and inside you’ll see six small discs.” It was the jewelry box. I picked it up and pulled the top off. On two stalks were tiny, transparent round discs, almost invisible to my eyes. I looked up at my instructor. “Moisten your index finger and then use it to pick up one of the buds and then place it above one of your eyes, but below your eyebrow in the recess close to your nose.” Sally indicated what she wanted me to do. I did as she asked. “Now do the same with the other bud.” With both eye-buds in place I looked up at Sally, expectantly. “Good, now just wait I little while.”

Nothing happened, or nothing significant, though I could feel a slight warmth above each eye where I placed the buds.

“Okay, let’s try them out.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes, petty simple, eh! First let me explain what you have. These buds will project an image in front of your face like a heads-up display. No-one else will be able to see or read anything on the display. They are customized for your eyes only. The display will adapt automatically to the data that you call up. You can scroll down or up as you please. So ask a question, something that you might ask Google. The computer can differentiate between a real question and your musings.”

“Okay.” I said, amused by it all.

For a second I wasn’t sure what to ask. Then I said, “what’s the weather for the rest of the day?” Immediately a verbiage presented itself in front of me explaining briefly the weather forecast. Wow! That was neat. No more fiddling with my phone. “Who was Beethoven’s mother?” Maria Magdelana Keverich, replaced the weather forecast, with a mini hologram of a woman who I presumed was Maria. But something was strange. The woman was moving, she was walking in a clearing, the trees in the background were blowing in the wind, they were in color. I was sure that video didn’t exist in the eighteenth century. I looked up at Sally. “It’s a video, it can’t be her.” I said.

Sally smiled back at me. “It will take a little getting used to but as I have already pointed out I have access to everything that happened on earth for the last two hundred and forty-eight million years.”

I carefully studied the computer hologram of Bridgette Bardot in front of me then at the woman walking through the woods. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I simply couldn’t accept what Sally had just said.

“Everything?” I coughed out.

“Everything.” She repeated.

I was speechless once again. “I don’t believe it! It simply isn’t possible. The storage capacity would have to be astronomical. And where’s the camera? Are you telling me…” my voice was argumentative… “that you have cameras on every person on earth, every person in the history of mankind. You followed them around with your own little film crew, bullshit?” I crossed my arms.

Sally paused before she answered. Her face was quizzical, but the pitch of her voice hadn’t increased. “A monitoring disc is attached to the head of every newborn.”

“What? What did you say?” My demeanor was confrontational. I stood up, which was totally pointless.

“Wait, David, let me explain. Then have your say. It’s harmless.” She raised her arms in front of herself. She waited while I appeared to calm down. “The disc projects a monitoring device, like a camera, above the individual’s head at changeable heights that record their life. The recordings are saved. Our storage capacities are limitless; I can try to explain how it works but I don’t think it would help.”

I instinctively touched the top of my head.

“You won’t feel anything, touch the eye-buds.” I did, there was nothing there. “They disappear.”

“Who watches the videos? Who has access to the data?”

“Not too many people. The monitoring team on Cirion, but as you can imagine they are only interested in the major events on your planet. And on earth right now only you have access.” She smiled, she knew I’d be okay with that. She was right.

I felt like I couldn’t leave the subject. “How is it powered?”

Again a wry smile crossed her lips. “Each individual powers their own device by their pulse and body heat. When they die the camera shuts down and the recordings stop.”

“How do you attach the disc?” Seemed like a monumental task.

“I do that.” She said, matter-of-factly as if I should have known it. “I mean the computer system. It beams atoms at each newborn that form into the disc. It’s a tiny thing, it’s all automatic.” Her voice was so innocent like a child. “Do you want me to prove the recording was real?”

“Okay,” I said.

“Firstly I need to explain something else.” Now what, I thought. “The computer around your waste is connected to your spinal cord.” I felt for the belt and could feel sweat forming on my forehead. I guess I should have exploded at that point but maybe I was becoming numb to each new revelation. Sally could read my expression, she stepped forward slightly, her hands bent upwards in a defensive manner. “It’s not dangerous. It simply means that you can access the computer by thought.” Her eyebrows raised and she smiled kindly. I was silent. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“So!”

“So now I’ll try to prove to you that the data that you can access is real.” I waited. “I want you to think of something in your past, maybe when you were young. You and your brother, in Ireland, playing football in the backyard. Something that you know wasn’t recorded.”

She knows about my brother! I guess that was a no-brainer. She probably knows which way I hang. Quickly I realized where she was going with this. My brother Gerry was two years older. We were inseparable as kids, always having a lark. Gerry still lived in Cork with his wife Moira, I didn’t see him enough. He’d attended Mary’s funeral, that was good of him. It’s a long way to come and he didn’t ask me to help with the fare. He’d worked his whole life, just about, at McDougal’s bakery and was now the production manager. I know how envious he was of my life style, but he was always happy to pay his way. I respected him for that. I remembered a day in the summer when we were both at St. Mary’s junior mixed infants, before he moved up to Middle school, leaving me to fend for myself. I missed him. We were playing one on one in the garden with old paint pots for the goal posts at one end and mum’s garden gnomes at the other. Big mistake. The ball was soft, it wouldn’t break those gnomes even if George Best had struck a bullet. Gerry was defending the goal with the gnomes and it was four-all, first to five. Loser had to cut the lawn. I came in hard and tried to side kick the ball with the outside edge of my foot across the front of Gerry who was backing up. It was a beautiful, delicate shot and I watched it go in, not paying attention to where I was. I tripped over the blue gnome and it broke into a million pieces. Oh, did I get it that night from Dad.

I smiled at the thought and looked up at Sally. Nothing had happened. “Well?” I exclaimed.

Her tone was patient. “You have to activate the computer and be definitive with your thoughts. Start by thinking ‘computer on’ or say my name, anything so the computer recognizes that you want it to respond.” I paused while I digested her instructions. Makes sense I guess. I calmed my mind and thought ‘computer on’ then I thought of that day when I’d broken the gnome playing football. The heads-up screen in front of me jumped to life and a video played in three-D of my winning goal. Oh-my-God! I couldn’t believe it. I thought ‘back up’ and the video played again. I paused the scene, with Gerry forlorn in the center of the picture. Tears began to run down my face. It was intense. I thought of Christmas that year when I’d been given a new bike. The picture changed to my family opening presents by the tree. My mother, God rest her soul, so beautiful in her best dress smiling and laughing as she watched the happiness on Gerry and my faces as we tore open the gifts. More tears ran down my cheeks and I choked and had to cough to clear my throat. For twenty more minutes I revisited my childhood, forgetting where I was and why. It was magical.

I jumped forward twenty odd years to my wedding day in Cork. Mary was stunning as she walked down the aisle. It was too much for me I had to hold my head and wipe my eyes. All this time Sally stood quietly, she understood and I guess she knew not to interrupt. These memories were precious to me, my instruction had to wait. Eventually, maybe close to an hour later I looked up at Sally.

I had taken my seat again and was sitting quietly, my mind all over the place. I believed now. I believed everything, even if I didn’t want to. During these last couple of days, I had been slowly encouraged to accept that there was other intelligent life in the universe and they had contacted me. That fact tugged heavily on my beliefs. I was a pretty simple guy, never seeking out the limelight. Happy to be part of the crowd. Content with my limited success, not flashy or big-headed, not trying to prove I was better than anyone else. All the great leaders of the world. Why not one of them?

It was astounding, totally incredible, but as I thought of all the data that was now at my fingertips I began to see a dark side. I could feel anxiety well up inside me. The repercussions of this data was dawning on me. I had access to the history of all mankind. That was undeniably very exciting but potentially very dangerous. It struck me clearly, all that knowledge put me at considerable risk. I could solve every crime ever committed. Could you imagine the shock wave that information would send around the underworld? An army of criminals would do anything, pay anything to suppress it. I would be the greatest target ever in the history of mankind. The witness protection program would be useless. The threat to me would be one thing, but it wouldn’t end there, my family would be targets also. I thought of my children. How could I accept whatever task these people from Cirion wanted me to undertake with that in the background? I wouldn’t last five minutes.

“It’s too risky?” I said, suddenly.

Sally smiled. “I can mitigate the risks. Let me explain how.” But I wasn’t listening.