Brain In A Jar: Book 1 Read online

  Only then did he notice that the screen had paused itself - as soon as he returned his attention to it, it restarted. This mind-reading act still greatly unnerved him but he pulled himself together at least partly and braced himself in order to learn all he needed to know. After all, without this device he was the very definition of helpless.

  This 'beginner's guide' lasted three hours but, as he was informed, there was no longer any need to worry about fatigue, getting up to stretch his legs, performing bodily functions, stopping to take on food and water etc. He also had plenty of time.

  So he watched the presentation. Then he watched it again. And a third, a fourth, a fifth and a sixth time.

  He noticed that time was different for him now. It did not feel as if eighteen hours had passed because he had very few of the usual frames of reference. He had sight and hearing and a very vague, disconcerting sense of his own physical presence but, as the presentation explained, that was merely due to a kind of phantom limb syndrome. He was assured it would disappear completely within a few years as his brain radically rewired itself. It was also explained to him that he would no longer sleep, and in fact sleeping actually used up more brain energy than wakefulness. Kip's scientific mind had now overtaken his shock and confusion and he began to systematically work his way through the smorgasbord of menu options on his screen.

  Brain Computer Interfaces had been around for two hundred and fifty years, enabling people to operate a simple computer cursor by thought waves, but Kip was astounded at how far the technology had come. With a little practise he could operate any electronic device in his home by imagining infrared waves going from his mind to the device. This seemed absurd, but no sooner had he had that thought than a document popped up on the screen explaining that three hundred years of mapping the brains of millions of people had lead to this current technology that could instantly analyse his thoughts in the same way that a speech synthesiser could translate spoken words into digital text in real time. He knew that it looked like magic but, as he read more and more, he found that the science of this pseudo telepathy was perfectly valid. After all, as a biochemist he knew that his thoughts were nothing more than electrochemical activity, so there was no reason in principal why he couldn't communicate directly with computers. He assumed that the nutrition tank was supplying his brain with oxygen, and as soon as he had that thought a document popped up explaining that that was indeed the case. His brain was now wired up directly to the computer on his chair, and that computer could obviously connect wirelessly to any other device, so he should be able to operate anything in his house.

  He first tried the lock on his front door. It had been locked and he had just unlocked it, so he locked it again and metaphorically breathed a sigh of relief. He tried opening the electronic windows, though he now had no need of fresh air, then quickly closed them because he didn't want anybody to know he was there. He tried, on a whim, dialling his mobile phone, which was in the pocket of his jacket than hung in the hallway. He was rather startled to hear it ring after less than a second.

  This confirmed that he must be automatically connected to every digital and Bluetooth device in his house. And the internet.

  The internet.

  He hadn't even thought about that.

  If he could use that he could continue working. He had told his colleagues he was having an operation, but not the details, even the ones he had actually known, and that he would return to work in a couple of weeks. He was sure that nobody he worked with would be bothered at seeing him as a brain in a jar and would be fascinated by the technology, but he didn't yet feel ready to face anybody.

  He tried checking his email and accessing a few web sites. No problem. It was just the same as using a keyboard and mouse or a tablet, though he found that even after only one day of being a brain in a jar it was becoming hard to remember the physical sensations of working in that way. Or maybe he was just desperately forcing himself to forget his previous life.

  "Mind you," he thought, "this screen is great but is it the only one in the house? What about if I go anywhere, I'll be helpless." Before he even had time to recall the relevant part of the presentation film, it informed him of the portable screen on the front of the electronic chair. A second later, the screen rose up and adjusted itself so that he could see it and also what was in front of him.

  Well, now that he couldn't eat or drink or do anything physical and had no need of rest or sleep, there was nothing else to do but get used to his circumstances and push his new life to the limits. He would conduct a thorough, scientific exploration of the possibilities of the technology.

  He began by slowly steering his chair around the living room. He would have to get rid of furniture and other things he no longer needed as they were in the way. Mind you, why did he ever have to move, he had nowhere to go? He wondered if he would ever want a change of scenery now that he was truly living a life of the mind. He decided to put those sort of questions aside for the time being, it was going to take more than a day to get used to living in this manner.

  So long as he could continue working then life in a jar might not be so bad after all. Although, he was supposed to be drawing his pension in fifty years - what would happen about that now? When they found out that he was going to live for another six or seven centuries they were hardly likely to pay out. Mind you, if he could go on working in his field for six hundred years, just think of the wonderful advances he would see? It would be like Isaac Newton getting to work with quantum computers for four hundred years or Copernicus using Google Earth.

  Sure, there may be challenges ahead, thought Kip, but all in all, and considering that without this procedure I would have died within a few years, I'm quite happy to be a brain in a jar. For now he decided to put aside all his doubts and fears - all he could do in the immediate future was get used to his new situation and master the technology. Only then would he feel ready to deal with other people and the question of exactly how he was going to interact with the world in the future.

  *****

  Silicon Valley, California, USA

  Gizmo heard the buzzer and opened the door. "I'm through here."

  Giz had been the very first person to undergo the radical procedure and become a brain in a jar nearly five years ago. In fact, next month he would receive a visit from GSKM to replace his nutrition tank. Well, that was what GSKM thought but he had other ideas.

  Marty, his best friend entered and smiled.

  "I've finally done it. Fancy a spin?"

  "Of course."

  "It shouldn't take long to wire it up."

  This new device was the culmination of more than a years work. It was a small box about four inches square containing a plethora of microscopic circuit boards. It was designed along quantum principles so they couldn't be entirely certain what it would do but it would definitely greatly enhance the speed with which he could interact with computers other than the one with which GSKM had supplied him. If this device worked as intended, Giz would be able to interface directly with anything in the world that had an internet connection or an infrared control. In theory he could even fly a plane from his living room.

  Three years ago Gizmo had become aware that other people had also been turned into a brain in a jar. This came as a great shock to him as he had invented the procedure himself and paid GSKM to carry out the operation on him. Nobody else was supposed to know about this technology and yet they had been using it on others without consulting him. The only reason he found out about this was because he had hacked into GSKM's computer system and found references to new procedures. At the time of his operation he had had no reason to suspect GSKM of any nefarious intentions but, as a former military man, he became worried about the potential of the technology and so started making his own secret enquiries. He discovered that there were a few dozen people around the globe who had had the operation and become what GSKM employees - at least those in the upper echelons of the organisation who knew about the procedur
e - referred to as 'Jar Heads'. As he had obtained this information by spying he couldn't exactly confront GSKM about it, but then someone leaked details of their own procedure online. It was speedily deleted and, as Gizmo later discovered, that person was killed shortly afterwards. The few people who saw it dismissed it as the ravings of a lunatic but it enabled him to contact GSKM. He had asked them for the names and email addresses of any other people who had undergone the operation but had been told point blank that no such procedures had taken place. Giz didn't like the tone with which his request had been met – it was highly suspicious, threatening even. What could they have against us communicating, he had thought? Oh well, it just required further work for him and Marty to hack into the computer system again at GSKM's US Headquarters in New York and take the information they required. Perhaps if they had looked further into matters at the time a lot of later disaster could have been averted.

  Gizmo had been aware for some time that GSKM were monitoring him and so had used his and Marty's military experience to counteract this surveillance. After discovering that they had blatantly lied to him and were clearly up to something, he upped this counter surveillance to new levels and began transmitting false information to them, allowing himself to communicate with anybody without GSKM's knowledge.

  Anyway, everything was in place now and the quantum computer seemed to be working well. Marty had almost perfected the auto translation software which should, after some initial adjustment, allow anyone to converse in any of the major world languages more or less instantaneously. At present Gizmo had no use for such a device, but they were preparing for an uncertain future. He felt that soon the time would come for them to contact the others and agree a battle plan. He had no desire to return to any form of military action but, the more he learned about GSKM and their true intentions, the more he realised that it would sooner or later become inevitable.

  *****

  Bath, England - April 2346

  After two weeks Kip was relishing the total lack of sleep and how much he was still able to do. His time thus far had been both enjoyable and profitable but now he faced a dilemma. He was supposed to be going back to work tomorrow, with legs and things. He had to email his boss this morning, what on earth was he going to tell her? He had seen nobody since the operation and had not told anybody about what had happened to him. He could work from home to some extent but there were meetings he was expected to attend and his former life to resume. Now that it was an imminent prospect, he didn't think he could face going into work. Besides, how would he even get there, travel fifteen miles in his electric chair? Trundle along the streets looking like something out of a Mary Shelley novel? He was confident his colleagues would quickly adjust to his new appearance but surely the general public wouldn't. Suddenly he felt nothing but anxiety and realised how trapped he really was.

  He was frantically pondering his next move when some kind of electrical fault took down his internet connection and most of the electronic devices in his house. Before he even had time to rise to a new level of panic or think about the implications, the screen on his chair came to life and he was confronted with a mirror image of himself. Kip took a deep breath, at least in his mind it still felt as if he had, and focused his attention on the video call.

  "Hello, Kip," said the other brain in a jar, "I'm Gizmo."

  At no time during the last two weeks had he ever considered the possibility that there were others out there like him. Now it seemed such a foolish omission but it had taken all his willpower to get used to his new condition and not go insane so any thoughts about the wider implications of his procedure had so far eluded him.

  "Hello," he said hesitantly. "How do you know my name, and what's happened to my electronics? Hey,” he exclaimed, "you have a voice! I mean it sounds like a voice. How do you get a voice that doesn't sound like a robot?"

  Gizmo laughed, and Kip realised that that was yet another thing he hadn't experienced during the last two weeks.

  "Are you another one who didn't read the whole brochure?"

  "Maybe not all of it," Kip began, wondering where this was going.

  "You could have had a sample vocabulary taken and had a progressively adaptive model of your voice installed."

  "Oh."

  "Don't worry, I'm sure we can use recordings of your public lectures to sort that out for you. Anyway, we have more important things to discuss, Kip. As you can see, I am like you. I was the very first to undergo this procedure, almost five years ago. I was the guinea pig, if you like. My friend is outside your house now and we need to talk to you urgently. I would say don't be scared but you should be. GSKM have a whole hidden agenda that it has taken me years to fully uncover and we need to take immediate action. My friend has flown over from Silicon Valley especially to see you, will you let him in? The doors are working."

  "But how... what the hell is going on?" stammered Kip.

  "I'm sorry to spring this on you but we're running out of time. We need your help urgently, to save all of us."

  "What do you mean all of us? How many are there?"

  "Thirty eight. I'll explain when we meet but time is of the essence. Will you please let my friend in?"

  Kip took a moment to assess his helpless situation. "I don't suppose I have much choice, do I?" He opened the front door and a man in his mid forties entered the living room.

  "Hi, Kip, I'm Marty." The man was physically imposing, and not just because he had a physical body. He carried an enormous black duffel bag on his shoulder that looked as though it weighed a ton. He looked quickly around the room and seemed satisfied, though with what Kip had no idea. He stood behind Kip's chair so that he could also see Gizmo on the screen, and be seen by him. He nodded.

  "There is much I need to tell you," began Gizmo, "and the first thing is that we have taken the liberty of hacking into your computer system and disabling the spyware they use to monitor us. I have a more permanent solution but we could not install that remotely. Does anybody know about your procedure, has anyone seen you during the last two weeks?"

  "No."

  "Good. Is there anything preventing you from accompanying Marty and coming to America?"

  Kip's mind span. The idea of travelling anywhere, even to the end of his street, was terrifying.

  "Well, I'm supposed to be going back to work tomorrow, but I can't, I just can't face it. I have to contact by boss today, I'll tell her that there have been complications and I've lost my voice. I could work from home for a few weeks before anybody became suspicious. But... I mean, how the hell could I travel? I can't exactly get on a plane like this, can I?"

  "We have a private jet waiting nearby. I have travelled in it myself to test it out and it's fine. That and Marty's vehicle have both been specially adapted and we have developed an extra seal for our jars to prevent any loss of nutrition liquid. That is the urgent problem, Kip, the one we cannot solve without your help. Next month it will be five years since my procedure and I'm due to have my nutrition tank refilled. We've been able to hack into GSKM's system and ascertained that we have been an experiment. They are monitoring all of us constantly and, when the five years is up, they will terminate us with a poisonous liquid and pass it off as a fault in the original procedure. We are very close to developing our own, much longer lasting, nutrition liquid to enable us to carry on living independently of GSKM but need your help to complete the process. Your chemical expertise is vital to us, otherwise next month I will be killed and all of us will die when the five years is up."

  Marty silently placed a tablet in front of Kip's screen and a number of documents appeared.

  "You can read them in the usual manner," he said, "that is our proof of their true intentions towards you."

  Kip scanned through the documents, his horror increasing by the minute. His scientific mind was telling him that this was all real, while another part of him was trying to deny it and dismiss it as spurious conspiracy talk. However, he was aware that without this able bodied m
an he was pretty much helpless, and this Gizmo had had nearly five years experience of being in a jar, so surely he knew what he was talking about. He was about to speak when an alarm bleeped on the tablet.

  "Shit," hissed Marty, "we're out of time. They have registered the electrical fault and an engineer is on route by helicopter." He picked up the tablet and put it back in his bag.

  "Kip," said Gizmo, "this is crunch time. Either you go with Marty now or we restore your electrics and you'll have to play dumb. But if you remain there I will die next month. I'm sorry to press you, but you have to decide now."

  Everything about his experience before the procedure, the false smiles of the reception staff and the looks they gave him when he asked questions they clearly didn't want to answer, suddenly all coalesced and he realised that he was indeed in great danger and that everything he had just learned was all too true.

  "Let's go," he said, "I believe you."

  "Thank you, Kip, I'll see you soon. Get on with it, Marty, we have less than twenty minutes."

  Marty nodded and the screen went blank. "Is there anything you need to take with you?" he asked.

  "Upstairs in the study are two laptops, a bag of back up drives and a box of paper files. That is my life's work, and I'll need it all. Everything else... well, I have no use for physical objects any longer."

  Marty nodded curtly and ran upstairs. Kip then heard the door open and another man entered the living room.

  "Hello, Kip, I'm your pilot."

  "Umm... hello," said Kip, not sure what else to say. He did notice, though, that he didn't feel any embarrassment or shame at people seeing him existing in a jar and electronic chair. That was a good thing, though he knew that these people has already seen another person like him and it would be a very different matter going out amongst the general public. The man pushed his chair to the front door and Kip saw that a large American vehicle that was part car and part truck and had blacked out windows was reversing up to his front gate. As he watched a ramp unfolded, accompanied by an electronic whine, and he was hurriedly transported into the back of the vehicle. Two minutes later his belongings were also on board and the vehicle moved off.