Read My Mind.

The case for tinfoil hats.

A case for tinfoil hats.

What a World

Benjamin Trayne

On a sunny day in an urban outskirts, there among the trees, flowers and homes of an ordinary community, a single block building stood that didn’t appear to belong. It had been painted white, it had a flat roof like a commercial building, and it was quite a bit longer and wider than an average small home. No one knew what it had really been built to house, and Neville didn’t care. He’d bought it because it looked like a lab, and he considered himself a scientist.

Inside, simpleton Brian peered over his friend's shoulder with an odd, crooked grin that hailed from a nether-world somewhere between insolence and incredulity.

“What's this thing, dude?”

“It's a mind-reading device.” The matter-of-fact response came in a voice slightly muffled by a paper respirator mask. “What's it look like?”

“Looks like another flop, to me. Like one of those old TVs we used to tear apart. Wires, corroded parts, busted stuff...okay, I asked nicely. What is it, really?”

True genius and self-educated inventor Neville had been soldering wires to terminals within a salvaged steel electronics chassis. In fact it had come from an old TV set. Seated on a high metal stool, he straightened, tipped his magnifying goggles up in front of his prominent forehead and began pulling his gloves off, one finger at a time. “There are no ‘busted’ parts in this. Why don't you ever believe me?”

“Because you never tell me the truth! Not the first time I ask, anyway.”

“I see.”

“So, what the fuck is it?”

“You don't have to curse.”

“That was not a curse.”

“Okay, then, you don't have to expletive.”

“'Expletive' cannot be used as a verb, dumbass.”

Neville smiled. “I'll use it however I fucking want.” He got up from his stool, walked stiffly over to his high-tech, laboratory-grade mini-fridge and extracted a cold soda. “Want one?”

The two men had been friends since childhood. Neither had attended college. Both had married, and both were again single. Brian had a couple of part-time jobs that kept him busy, cleaning cages at a pet supply store and driving between bank branches as a courier. But Neville, who knew? Brian never understood how he'd supported himself. It sort of looked like he'd spent every available cent buying up used laboratory equipment, and sale parts at a surplus outlet, or an electronics salvage warehouse. He was always dressed in ratty jeans and was almost always wearing an unwashed, formerly-white lab coat. As far as Brian knew, he'd never had a job. But he was always working, every day and nearly every night.

Brian accepted a soda and asked, expectantly, “When's lunch?”

“Whenever you go out and buy me some.”

“Where's the money?”

“I don't have any money.”

“Then how can I buy us lunch?”

Neville shook his head. This was their relationship. It was a whole lot like marriage, actually; all argument, absolutely no sex. But, at least the argument was only banter. That was an improvement. The insults and the jabs, despite the way they sounded, were never personal.

Brian stepped around the project on the bench, peering at the circuitry. “So what is this thing, really?”

“Oh, all right. It's part of a distribution system.” Neville shrugged off the lab coat, revealing a dark blue plaid shirt with sleeves rolled up, the sleeves of a thermal undershirt still covering his forearms. It was July.

“You see? You see?” Brian feigned upset. “Never the first time!”

“Well, it wasn't all a lie. It will distribute mind-reading capability.”

“Rrright! So when was this new policy of secrecy instituted? You're not gonna tell me, this time? Is this another 'CIA contract'?” Brian’s fingers described quotation marks in the air.

Neville stood stock-still, his eyes wide, and he blinked once, slowly. “I'll have you know,” he sniffed, “That was an actual CIA contract. It wasn’t the first one, either. Guess it really doesn't matter if you buy that. Please keep it to yourself, whether you choose to believe it or not. And I wasn't lying, just now. I'm telling you, this thing will change the world!”

“So does a volcano, or a good joke, or a new sammitch at McDonalds. Aren't you hungry?”

“Honest to shit.” Neville shrugged. “No wonder you only work part-time jobs. Nothing matters to you. Except of course, sponging food offa me.”

“Aw, now see that really hurts. Sure I sponge food. But it's not like it's all that matters. You know I'd do anything for ya.”

“Guess so.” Neville shook his head as he extracted his wallet from his hip pocket, and started thumbing through wrinkled bills. “I also know you'd do anything to me.”

Brian accepted a twenty. “You want yer usual? By the way, if I ever hit the lottery, I'll buy you lunch for a month.” Then, he added, “Before I head out, I'll ask you just one more time. What is the project you're working on?”

Neville stared at Brian for a long moment, then motioned him toward the doorway to the next room. “Come on.”

The two men stepped into a large room, nearly thirty feet square.

Brian actually cried out, in wonder.

The scene before him made almost anything believable. The room literally bristled with high-tech electronic hardware. It looked like it was all on deep shelving made from plain plywood and furring strips, but the shelves were covered with electronics. Brian was just knowledgeable enough to recognize the occasional computer hard drive and banks and banks of electronic circuit cards. Here and there, a table fan or a full-size window fan was positioned to keep parts of the assembly cool. Short nickel-plated aerials spiked up here and there, and toward the center, a huge helical coil of copper enclosed in glass glistened against a background of bluish light. The cool fuzzy glow that permeated the room was being emitted from hundreds of light-emitting diodes.

“The LEDs are cool, aren't they? Blue is my favorite color, so I bought 'em.”

“So,” mused Brian, “This is a distribution system?”

“Oh hell no, this machine produces what the system will distribute!”

“And that, pray tell, is what?”

“I already told you that. You weren't buyin' it. Why don't you run along, now, and get me a quarter-pounder with cheese?”

“You're trying to tell me, this machine reads minds??”

“And here, just a couple of minutes ago, you called me, a dumbass! No, it doesn't read minds. No machine, at least one that isn't an artificial intelligence, could ever read a mind!”

“But you said something about reading minds...”

“I said, 'mind reading capability'. This machine enables the human mind, to translate. Electrical impulses are all thoughts really are, you see? And we all emit them. What this amazing creation of mine will do, is to amplify those impulses, enable translation, and voila! You will know what the other person is thinking.”

Brian thought about that for a minute. “There's always a downside. What is it?”

Neville laughed. “I guess that depends on your perspective. The other person will also know what you're thinking.”

Brian thought some more. “Is that good?”

Neville frowned. “Think about this, now, my friend. Most of the world's problems are caused by, guess what, people! And why is that? Mostly, it's a lack of understanding. I'm betting that if everyone's cards were out on the table, so to speak, that lack of understanding would be gone. People with good intentions would at last become our leaders. Nations would stop warring because the leaders of each would at last be able to see what the other side is concerned about. If someone happened to be a criminal, or a huckster, he would be exposed.”

“What in the world made you do this, Neville? Who's paying for all of it?”

“Well. I guess I am, now.”

“Explain, man.”

“Well without getting too specific, like I've done in the past, let's just say the project was funded at least in part by a government agency.”

Brian gasped. “The CIA?”

“I'm not sayin'. Anyway, they think the project failed. I just wasn't willing to give it to 'em. And it has its limitations...”

“Neville! Does it work? Did you actually test it?”

“I tested the circuitry, and I used a cat.”

“A cat! How in hell would you know if a cat was reading your mind?”

Neville chucked. “I don't. The circuitry was low power and it was just for a few seconds. And I've gotta tell you, cat's are friggin' weird! I just wanted to take a look, and verify what I already knew about it. I'll never see a damned cat the same way again. Trouble is, the little shit won’t leave me alone now.”

“So why did you build this monster?”

“Well...” Neville straightened himself up and folded his arms in front of him. “The customers wanted a portable unit they could carry around. Imagine carrying this thing around! So it obviously wasn't salable, because it wasn’t what they asked for. You know how the personal computer evolved, right?”

“You mean, from large to small?”

“Exactly. Maybe someday, this thing could become portable. But like the early computers, it takes up a whole lot more space than anything like, portable. That's it's limitation.”

Brian suddenly thought he understood. “Oh, I see! You wanta spread the power around, with a distribution system!” He paused. “Distribute it how?”

Neville grinned, appearing self-satisfied. “That's the genius part, buddy. What does almost everybody have, that they carry around?'

“You mean like, a body part?”

“No. Dumbass. I mean like, electronic.”

“A cell phone.”

“Exactly!”

“Don't you think you could get in trouble with that?” Brian asked, “Because after all, you don't own the networks.”

“Do you seriously think, with the added capability, anyone would mind? Imagine the increased value of the product!”

“Jeez, then I might have to actually invest in one. Never bothered. Do you honestly think it'll work?”

“Indubitably, my good man. Modern cell phones are mostly just a super-compact computer, but they are also transmitters. I've been pinging these devices for a week. If the cell phone is on, the system will take effect on the person closest to it. In fact,” Neville added, “It may affect anyone in the immediate vicinity. You see, humans are already much closer to the capability of reading minds than anyone suspects. I tend to believe some people already can.”

“I know my ex-wife expected me to,” Brian remarked. “Mebbe this thing would've kept me out of trouble with her.”

“Well.” Neville was considering. “All of that's water under the bridge now, isn't it? But the future will be different.”

“How far do you think this crap will reach?” Brian asked.

“The networks are continuous, and intertwined. There are two basic frequencies, and I'm set to deliver onto both of them. The effects will go everywhere.”

“Worldwide?!”

“Yes.” Neville smiled. “To be honest, I'm not completely sure about it. I mean, it'll work. I'm ninety-nine percent sure of that. What I'm not sure of is the effect. But I'll know more pretty shortly. I do know that everyone will be exposed to the thoughts of our hearts. Tell you what, why don't you go get food, and I'll tell you more when you come back.”

“Awesome,” Brian replied. “Be right back.”

Before stepping through the doorway, Brain turned and looked back at Neville. “Why do you wanna do this, man? I mean, I get it. But why not just leave well enough alone?”

Neville smiled broadly. “Globalists, man. They already have the ability to read thoughts using a machine. This’ll outdistance them, and they’ll never be able to control people with the threat of reading their minds. This completely wipes that out.”

Neville walked over to a control panel and began turning dials and flipping switches. Brian exited the big room and headed for the front door. As he walked past the chassis Neville had been working on, he noticed that it was already plugged into the wall, and a small pilot light labeled “ready” was blinking green. So Neville was really close to making the whole system potentially, operational.

Now, what might have been the motivation behind Neville’s invention? Surely, Brian considered, he didn’t think that everyone thought the same? That there weren’t basic differences, frames of reference, simplistic like himself, and complicated, like some others?

Brian thought about that, and unplugged it from the wall. Then he stepped out to get some food.

**************

Neville was in a bit of a daze, as he often was. This project would eclipse all of the inventions he’d completed so far, would make him famous, would satisfy at last his great thirst for notoriety. Mentally he went over the elements of his creation and put everything into its place. Step one, perception of others’ thoughts, step two, translation, step three, and this was the part he wasn’t so sure about, assimilation. Would everyone know what to do with what they perceived? Would it be obvious to everyone, what to make of it? Or would everyone collapse into a ball, unwilling to perceive? What would eventually be the outcome?

Everything depended on his ability to turn it off. To end it. And that’s what he would do, try just a short bump of it, and see what the result would be. But shouldn’t he try it out on another human, first?

Brian?

Brian was whistling as he approached the front stoop, carrying that fast-food bag and a carrier with two tall Cokes. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch, and was hungry. He decided, then snaked his burger out of the bag, stopped and unwrapped it, and took a bite. Then he took the last three steps up to the concrete stoop, and entered.

Just inside, Neville had wired up two helmets and was waiting for him.

“Damn, I hate pickles! Do ya have to do that?”

“What?” Brian looked at Neville, quizzically.

“That damned sandwich! Come here, sit down and put this on.”

Brian complied, taking another big bite of his burger first.

“Damn!”

“What? Oh.”

The helmet settled onto Brian’s noggin, and Brian began to see.

Brian could see deeply into Neville’s mind, could see the pathways of Neville’s thoughts, could see the way Neville thought of him. Neville thinks I’m an idiot. He knew everything that Neville knew, right down to the mathematics that underlaid it. He understood, for the first time, why Neville worked as he did. His wandering eyes settled on Neville’s and he wondered why he hadn’t seen any of this before.

And right then, Neville wasn’t seeing anything, just feeling, as Brian probed the mind of Neville, thrusting in and pulling out, manipulating to and fro. Brian really wasn’t so simple, he’d just been unconcerned, really wasn’t so dim-witted, he’d just been uninvolved. That was changing, and very rapidly.

“Stop it!”

Brian wasn’t about to stop. He mentally pinned Neville’s hands to his legs and continued. The projects had all been for the CIA. Neville had millions in two large bank accounts, and Brian knew how to access them, and why he’d kept them secrets. Neville had skeletons in his closets, and so did Brian, just not so big. It was quite a lot for such a small nutshell, and Brian just sat there, and drank it in. Brian was the true genius, he was just considerably less caring about, any of it.

Until now.

Darkness gathered in Brian’s mind, the burger forgotten. Peace, that comes from understanding. Disdain, that comes from consideration; joy, that comes from having seized control of everything that had belonged to Neville. Everything.

Satisfied that he’d completed that particular invasion, Brian sent a kill shot into Neville’s brain. Neville collapsed in his chair. Brian removed the helmets and looked about. This place was his now, he simply needed to dispose of the body, and that would free him up. He smiled to himself.

What a world.