published January 2009
She gazed at the video and smiled broadly. “Despite his physical limitations, my great-grandfather accepted an opportunity, in 2007, to fly in a special airplane that went to high altitudes and plunged to Earth to allow him to experience zero gravity en persona! Unfortunately, by the time he passed away, human space travel had all but ceased, in favor of space probes ‘manned’ by robot IRAs."
“He warned a natural disaster or human-made accident could wipe life out on a single planet. He was concerned about global warming or nuclear catastrophe, and, especialmente, genetic engineering that might go wrong. As you are well aware, there have been several genetic engineering disasters, but they were contained at the last minute. In fact, genetic engineering has solved the problem of world hunger almost completely …”
“You can credit genetic engineering,” I interrupted, “For solving world hunger with disasters that killed millions of people and that favored social policies that discouraged indiscriminate breeding!”
“I agree,” replied Stephanie, grudgingly, “However, in return for the lives lost to genetic engineering, it is now commonplace to use genetically modified stem cells to regenerate organs, cure blood diseases, and repair broken bones using cells that perfectly match the recipient, because they are their own. Nearly everyone has their genome sequenced for susceptibility to genetic diseases so they can be treated early before serious symptoms set in. “Use of embryonic stem cells was controversial because the main source was aborted babies. However, it turned out stem cells harvested from amniotic fluid and placentas were superior due to their greater availability and variety, as well as lack of ethical overtones. Even skin cells can be tricked into reverting to the stem cell stage. They are used in the manufacture of miracle genetic drugs. They perfectly match the recipients and have extended meaningful life for millions of people. Nanobots are regularly injected into the bloodstream to dispense these drugs exactly where needed. These tiny robots perform housekeeping duties such as clearing plaques and other obstructions from veins, arteries, and the digestive system.”
She returned to her reclining chair and moved her hand onto her codip. Animated charts appeared on the display wall behind her. “My Hawking Plan calls for nothing less than a massive effort to spread human civilization and genes far and wide throughout space. We’re talking about thousands of spaceships launched over a period of hundreds of years, starting no more than twenty years from today.”
As she spoke, a high-resolution satellite image of the TABB building in Orlando appeared on the display wall. Slowly the view zoomed out and all of the greater Orlando area filled the display screen. The view expanded to Florida and eastern NortAmer, and then the entire Earth. A label appeared: Mother Earth – Our Big Blue-Green Marble. The image zoomed out further and faster to contain Venus and Mars, and then our Sun and Solar System.
A label appeared: Our Solar System – Our Planet Neighborhood. The zoom-out ceased when our galaxy filled the screen. A label appeared: Our Galaxy – The Milky Way. The view shifted a few degrees and slowly started to zoom in on what, at first, seemed to be a single star. A label appeared: Alpha Centauri – Our Nearest Neighbor Solar System. (Only Four and a Third Light Years Away).
As it zoomed in further Alpha Centuri morphed into two stars, one quite bright and the other a duller, reddish neighbor. Further zooming split the bright star in two, one whitish-yellow, and the other yellowish orange. Those two large stars, together with the tiny reddish one, made for a dramatic triple star-system. The zoom-in slowed a bit and more detailed labels appeared. According to the text, the largest star was: Centauri A – A Bit Larger and Brighter than Earth’s Sun. It was in a binary partnership with: Centauri B – A Bit Smaller and Duller than Earth’s Sun. The smallest star was: Proxima Centauri – A Red Dwarf. The view panned between the three stars and then slowly zoomed in on Centauri A, showing a number of planets.
The zoom descended towards the fourth planet out from Centauri A – a “big blue-brown marble.” A label proclaimed:
Planet Hawking – Fourth Planet Out from Centauri A. (First Target for Extra-Solar Colonization).
A peninsula, similar to Florida, jutted out into the ocean. The zooming concluded with a satellite-like view of an area near the coastline. Inland were the foothills and a chain of lakes. A river flowed from the largest lake towards the ocean. The land was bare – no grass or trees – mostly brown, with some large areas of gray and black.
The view morphed into a “live” video image. As it panned towards the ground, a large hangar-like structure came into view. It was parked on a promontory between the river bank and the ocean beach. The hangar was surrounded by a park-like area of grass, bushes, and trees. Further zoom-in revealed the words: TABB, Hawking 0001 (First Extra Solar System Human Colony, circa 2100). The Hawking Plan logo, a stylized DNA molecule, was visible on the side of the hangar.
Behind it could be seen a bright-yellow Sun, labeled: Centauri A. In the distance, lower in the sky and to the left, a second and duller-yellow-orange Sun, quite a bit smaller, was labeled: Centauri B. Far to the right and low in the sky a sharp-eyed observer could see a dull red Sun labeled: Proxima Centauri.
“The first step,” Stephanie continued, “Will be to use our authorized funding for internal studies augmented by ongoing TABB-funded universidad research. We need to define the parameters of human travel over awesome distances and extended times to reach well outside our Solar System. We must use our imaginations to their utmost limits to figure the best alternatives for spreading human genetics and civilization. Do we send living people, perhaps in suspended animation? Or, will it be frozen embryos to be thawed, gestated in artificial wombs, and raised and properly socialized by robot nannies? What about plants and animals? Not since Noah’s Ark has there been a task as far-reaching as our Hawking Plan.”
I listened in awe of her energy, enthusiasm, and unbounded optimism. I was still not convinced the religion part was important. However, I assumed she would get to that issue sooner or later. Stephanie flipped to a schedule chart and stood up. All this programmatic detail was of little interest to me, and I found myself daydreaming that she would “orbit” closer to my “star system.”
“Excuse me, Stephanie,” I said, “While I’m not an astronomer, I do try to keep up with the latest news in science. I don’t believe any planets have been detected orbiting the three stars in the Alpha Centuri system. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, the closest planetary system detected so far is about forty light years away, not four.”
“You are correct,” she replied, a bit sharply, “A planetary system of a star called 55 Cancri, forty-one light years away, has been detected, but the fourth planet out, in the zone where water may be in liquid form, is a gas giant, far larger than Earth, and not suitable for colonization. My animation is a marketing tool, not intended to be totally accurate. Science cannot yet detect smaller, Earth-sized planets orbiting remote stars. I believe there may well be an Earth-like planet in the Alpha Centuri system. It’s the closest and I’m optimistic.”
“There are a couple dozen other stars between four and twelve light years away,” said the RRD Head, trying to be helpful. “If the Alpha Centuri system lacks an Earth-like planet, one or more of them may be suitable. We know several have planets, for example, the tenth closest star, Epsilon Eridani.”
Stephanie looked towards him, and, for the first time shot a smile in his direction, then turned to her schedule chart and droned on, “Here is our roadmap.” With this muy caliente woman doing the presentation, I was happy to watch. The chart indicated launches would start in 2060, at one per year, increase to ten per year by 2100, and as many as 100 per year by 2200.
She bent over and pointed to various parts of her chart. I heard hardly a word. Her body was a symphony and it was playing on my favorite organ.
“After TABB approval of major funding,” she continued, “Concept Development and Initial Test Launches to Earth and Mars destinations will go forward through 2075. Production launches to Alpha Centauri will start in 2075. Advanced Launches, within, and perhaps a bit beyond the so-called "Local Bubble" of the Orion-Cygnus arm of our Milky Way galaxy, will extend out to the year 2200, when I will be about one-hundred seventy-five years old!”
Stephanie laughed energetically at that joke and the RRD Head and I joined in. “Jim, how old was Moses when he led his people to the Promised Land?”
“Moses was one-hundred twenty years old, when the Lord allowed him to view the Promised Land from the nearby mountains of Moab. However, he passed away before his people entered the land.”
“Bummer!” replied Stephanie. “Of course, that was well before medical nanobots and stem cells!”
The road map zoomed in on the Concept Development and Initial Test Launch Phase, from 2052 through 2075. “By next month, February 2052,” she continued, “We will issue a ‘Request for Information’ to all TCs who may wish to participate with products or services. This information will be compiled and analyzed by you gentlemen and the rest of my staff and will be incorporated into formal ‘Request for Proposal’ documentation. “Within five months, by July, I want us to be ready to formally request approval from the TABB Planning Board to go from the Planning Phase to the Conceptual Study Phase of Research and Development. We will give funded Conceptual Study Contracts to a number of well-qualified TCs, representing diverse geographic and technological areas of expertise. These Study Contracts will run for two to five years. However, after a year or two of study, I believe we will be in a position to go back to the TABB Planning Board for approval of some specific Development Phase Contracts for the spaceships, the human life support mechanisms, and so on.”
I was still wondering where religion came in. However, taking my cue from my new boss, the RRD Head, I held my tongue.
Stephanie sat down and frowned briefly. “I expect the main oposición to my plan to come from the anal conservadores fiscales in the TABB bureaucracy, led by a Mongol miscreant named Tsar Sahbaka.
"There are also some TCs who oppose any public spending not directly driven by market forces. My allies will be the TABB scientific and technological community who will benefit from the production contracts for the spaceships, human life-support systems, and more. The scientific community is satisfied with space exploration using IRAs, but I am totalmente confidente they’ll enthusiastically go along with any project that directs funding to science and technology.”
“Stephanie,” I interrupted, “I’m still not sure how the religion part fits in, and why is it so important? Do you expect oposición from the religiosas locas? Those nut cakes have no power! With the decline in true believers, even among the clergy like me, they are neither well organized nor radicalized anymore. Why stir up a hornet’s nest?"
“Jim,” said Stephanie, slowly and deliberately, “If my mentors at the TBI learned anything from the decades it took for their contra-terror program to control religion-based terrorism, it is the awesome risk posed by the ‘God delusion.’ It lies dangerously close to the surface in every human being, no matter how strongly they profess to be non-believers. "When the ‘jungle drums’ start beating, our emotions take over, fe drives razón out the window, and we are all in danger of becoming jihadists for one faith or another! Religioso becomes locas before you can bat an eye. All human brains are wired to feel part of something greater than any individual one of us. We gain pleasure when we give of ourselves to some grand purpose. For example, I am devoted to the Hawking Plan and intend to get popular opinion behind the great objective of saving human life and civilization for the infinite future. In the ultimate battle for public opinion, all other faith-based beliefs are in potential opposition to mine.
“I am concerned the conservadores fiscales, who oppose progressive TABB policies, will ally themselves with the religioso remnants, and, together, constitute a real threat to the Hawking Plan. We must pre-empt that threat! As a rabbi, you can use your title and knowledge to beat the drum for the Hawking Plan in religious circles.” I sat silently, worried about what I had signed up for.
Stephanie went on, “Jim, I’m not familiar with the historical veracidad of the Hebrew Scriptures. Are any are word-for-word the same as the originals? I’ve heard even the Ten Commandments, for goodness sake, are different in the Jewish, Catholic, and Protestant traditions. Are the Jewish scriptures we have in hand now, the so-called Books of Moses, actually true to Moses’s words, Jim?”
“Well, Stephanie,” I began with a smirk on my face, “According to Genesis, the first book of Moses, in the beginning there was nothing, and God said ‘Let there be light.’ At that point there was still nothing, but you could see it a lot better!”
The RRD Head laughed at the joke, but Stephanie hardly cracked a smile. I quickly lost the smirk. I cleared my throat and continued in a more professorial demeanor. “I doubt Moses actually wrote the first five books of our Hebrew Bible in his own hand. Particularly not the last verses of Deuteronomy in which his own death is recounted!” “Not Deuteronomy,” interrupted Stephanie, “Isn’t it Exodus?”
“Yes … yes, of course,” I stammered, my face red with shame, “The last verses of Exodus recount Moses’ death.”
“I’m sorry Jim,” interrupted the RRD Head, “Moses’s death is recounted in Deuteronomy 34, the last chapter of that book. I’m afraid you were correct in the first place.”
“Of course, you are right,” I said, my voice trembling, “I should have known better. Yes, I can quote it by heart. Deuteronomy 34:7: 'And Moses was a hundred and twenty years old when he died: his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated.'”
“Jim … JIM,” shouted Stephanie, shooting a glaring frown towards the RRD Head, “Let us focus on my original question, about the historical veracidad of the Hebrew Scriptures.”
“We religious historians believe,” I continued, trying to regain my intellectual balance, “There were a few different versions of our scriptures transmitted by a combination of oral and written documents dating from the time of Moses, between the twelfth and fifteenth century BC. When the Jewish exiles to Babylonia were returned to the Holy Land in the fifth century BC, courtesy of the King of Persia, our scribe Ezra struggled with at least two and probably three or four different written versions, dating from at least the tenth century BC. He regarded all of them as sacred, and combined them to form a single scripture.
"For example, in our Hebrew Bible the Creation fable is told two ways: once with the lower animals created first then with humans created first.
"The story of the giving of the Ten Commandments by God to Moses is told three times in our Bible. The Ethical Decalogue – the version most of us are familiar with – appears in similar but not exact form in Exodus and Deuteronomy. However, in a later portion of Exodus the story is told with a mostly different set of Commandments, called the Ritual Decalogue.”
Stephanie turned her gaze from me to the shrine to her great-grandfather. Worried I had lost my audience, I decided to cut my exposition short.
“So, to get to the bottom line,” I concluded, “The Books of Moses we have today are not the literal words of Moses nor what we used during the period of our Kings or our Prophets. Our tradition teaches that the version of the Bible we have in Hebrew today is virtually word-for-word identical to the one Ezra compiled in the year 444 BC. I personally believe that part of our tradition is true.”
She looked back at me and smiled. So I went on. “We have a strong prohibition,” I continued, “Against making any changes to the Hebrew text, even to correct obvious typographical errors due to inadvertent copying mistakes by the scribes. For example, there’s one place where our patriarch Jacob’s name is spelled wrong. In English, it would be like putting in an extra ‘C’ making it ‘JACCOB.’ Well, if you look at the Hebrew text – even in the modern e-texts – you’ll find the extra Hebrew letter in Jacob’s name, and then in parenthesis, the ‘correct’ spelling. In English it would be like ‘JACCOB (JACOB)’.”
“OK,” said Stephanie, “Please go on if you have more to say”
“Changes are prohibited because God, in effect, held Moses’s hand as he made the typo! Our rabbis and scholars have interpreted copying mistakes like these and what appear to be contradictions as secret messages to believers from God. Of course, in my opinion, it is all finely sliced baloney!”
“Jim, I’ve wondered about the ‘Septuagint’ translation from Hebrew to Greek. There’s a legend about a miracle?”
“Yes, Stephanie, the Septuagint was translated from Hebrew to Greek for the famous library at Alexandria Egypt around 285 BC. Our Jewish historian Philo, who lived in Alexandria and was born about thirty years before Jesus, comments positively about the Septuagint. The legend is that some seventy-two translators worked for seventy-two days, each in a separate cell. By a ‘miracle,’ all their translations turned out to be identical, every word and sentence and jot and tittle the same. Of course, all this is more finely sliced baloney except for the fact of the translation and the approximate year.”
“You don’t think seventy-two scholars working independently could come up with the exact same translation? If they did though, you would count that as a miracle?”
I grinned broadly. “If seventy-two scholars working together, all agreed on the translation, that would be a miracle!” The RRD Head began to laugh but arrested it at the broad-smile stage, and just as quickly doused that.
Stephanie greeted that joke with a bland smile and continued, “Thank you Jim. OK, now that that’s settled, let’s get back to the purpose of this meeting. “Your assignment, Jim, is to find passages in all major religious scriptures that predict or favor extra-terrestrial expansion of the human race. If necessary, you are authorized to modify the e-texts used for day-to-day religious services. For example: Genesis 22:17: '…I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven …' Could be read as: Genesis 22:17: '…I will multiply thy seed upon the stars of the heaven …' Be quite careful to make the changes subtle, but be sure the message is crystal clear: It is God’s plan for humans to populate the entire Universe by any means necessary.”
“With respect, Dr. Goldenrod ...” I began as I finally started to understand the scope of the task she had assigned me.
“I asked you to call me Stephanie, Jim,” she interrupted curtly.
“OK ... Stephanie. Regardless of what you and I think, the believers believe their ‘Holy Scriptures’ are the literal words of their Gods. They’ll notice changes and verify them by reference to hard-copy sources. For example, some Jews still know how to read directly from our Torah scrolls. Some Christians, as you have mentioned, make a point of reading directly from photocopies of the original version of the King James Bible. True believers among the Muslims, Hindus, Confucians, and so on do the same...”
“Jim ... JIM!” interrupted Stephanie, “If the religiosas locas don’t use the e-texts, they won’t notice the changes! Will they?”
“Perhaps not. Not the really dedicated ones. You have a point there. However, there’s the problem of the scholars – religious historians like me. We may not believe the scriptures were written by God; but our commitment to academic integrity is quite solid. We’ll notice any changes and verify them by reference to originals, such as the Dead Sea Scrolls. Also ...”
Stephanie pounded her codip. “Integridad Académica!” she shouted. “You scholars have no fe in God but all the fe in the world in human razón and Integridad Académica. That is your religiosas locas! Climb down from the ivory tower and join the real world!”
“I am in the real world,” I insisted.
“Fix it! Diego! Fix the real world! The Hawking Plan will save the real world! God-damn Integridad Académica! You are authorized to alter the e-photos of the originals of every God-damned so-called ‘Holy Scripture’ you think necessary, with the help of the TBI Cryptographic Bureau. When required, make the same changes to the actual relics stored in museums.”
I was too flustered to speak. In fact, I was so confused for a moment I no longer enjoyed looking at Stephanie.
“On the TBI contra-terror project,” she continued, “Our máquina del tiempo, a TBI agent encouraged some obscure Imam to expose one of the changes. The TBI had a Muslim Committee of Scholars investigate and prove, by reference to the hard copies and museum relics they had also modified, the cleric was ‘mistaken’.”
I objected again. “But, madam, surely other traditional clerics came forth to support the Imam ...”
“They were all old men with ‘memorias culpables.’ They were hallucinating, a common malady of religiosas locas! The TBI contra-terror agents spread the story that Imams themselves were making changes to the printed copies of their so-called ‘Holy Books’ to make it appear the e-texts and photos and relic hard copies had been modified. Even today, some radical churches, mosques, temples and synagogues are the last vestiges of oposición to corporate governance, plotting against TABB, etc., etc. I leave the details to you.”
Stephanie turned away and spoke into her scepter, a pen-like device carried by sixteen-hundred high TABB officers to document secret programs and authorize extra-legal activities. “Reference the Hawking Plan. RRD is onboard and O'Brian is authorized ...”
As she continued to document the task to her scepter, I looked to my right and met the gaze of the Head of the RRD. He gave me a big smile and an enthusiastic thumbs-up! That helped me regain my intellectual and emotional footing. I decided to go with the flow and give respect to proper authority – at least for my first week at TABB.
Stephanie rose from her seat and approached us. My libido returned and, once more, I appreciated how muy totalmente atlético y caliente she was. I pointed to the wall to my left. “Stephanie, I’ve been watching your celi. It’s quite a ‘living’ shrine to your great-grandfather.”
The celi, short for “celebration of life,” was a common electronic appliance. At the center of the celi was an aromarama, a fog machine that produced an aromatic ball of mist into which lasers projected a three-dimensional animated talking head, in this case modeled after Stephen Hawking. The celi stored and displayed audio and video recordings of Hawking as well as all of his writings. As a user option, the speech could be in any major language and in the easier to understand male or female “anunciador de radio” voice.
The celi monitored conversations in the area and determined the main topic of discussion. It then searched for applicable audio, video, or writing clips. The celi could be set to operate automatically, in which case “Hawking” would speak up whenever there was a pause in the conversation and he had something to say on the topic, or in question and answer mode in which case he would respond only to direct questions. Behind the aromarama was a display wall that showed videos, still photos, and text displays coordinated with the talking head.
“Thanks Jim,” replied Stephanie. “I was an infant when we met en persona. His ability to speak was gone and mine was yet to develop.”
A tear formed in her left eye. She paused, let it trickle down, and wiped it away. “Now, I speak to him every morning when I come in, and every evening before I leave. He is my oracle.”
As she spoke, the display wall behind the celi showed a photo of a very old, bedridden Stephen Hawking with a bawling infant lying on his chest.
“Look,” I said, “Is that a photo of you the time you met him?”
“Yes, my dear grandmother left that photo to me.”
I scratched my head and hesitantly spoke up. “You said you hired me because of my tendency to ‘speak truth to power’?” She nodded her head. Her lips tightened a bit.
“Well, as you know, I’m an historian. If I’m not mistaken, Stephen Hawking passed away a few years before you were born.”
She thought for a moment and replied, “You are probably right, Jim. We can check the celi – it has all the information about my great grandfather. Most likely, that image has been photo shopped.”
“But Stephanie,” I asked, “If it’s photo shopped, why didn’t they use a smiling photo of you as an infant?”
“My dear old grandmother probably thought an unhappy baby would add to the veracidad!” She looked at the photo more closely. “Perhaps that’s why I hate crying babies so much. I really have a phobia about anyone who can’t control their emotions, even infants.”
“You know Stephanie, there’s a classic story about a Chasidic Rebbe who supposedly could climb a ladder and ‘see all the way into the future.’ Someone asked him, if he had this magical power, why he needed the ladder. He replied he could see the future while standing on the ground, but the ladder made it more impressive!”
Stephanie hardly acknowledged my story. Instead, she stared intently at the Hawking head in the celi.
“You see, the Rebbe’s ladder added to the veracidad ...”
“Did you notice?” Stephanie interrupted, “How ardently he followed our discussion? Alte-zeide Stephen had something to say about nearly every topic we raised!”
“Alte-zeide – that’s Yiddish. Are you Jewish too?” Stephanie stiffened a bit.
“Jim,” she said quietly, “You know how the old saying goes '…Things are seldom what they seem.'”
I smiled. “That’s from W.S. Gilbert’s HMS Pinafore! It continues '… Skim milk masquerades as cream. 'In grade school we had to memorize all the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas – an effort by Anglophiles to stem the tide of Inglañol! That was a lost cause, wasn’t it? In any case, members of our generation have their heads full of wonderful English patter.”
She tapped her forehead and said, “My great-grandfather had to memorize Shakespeare, so we had it pretty good. It continues, '… Pretty girls are often cold. / All that glitters is not gold.'”
I recognized an error in the last quote from Pinafore. I was about to say something when the Hawking head in the aromarama became animated. It spoke through our ear pods in that distinctive synthesized voice Hawking was forced to use due to his lifelong battle with motor neuron disease. His words were on the display wall:
There was a young lady of Wight / Who traveled much faster than light / She departed one day / In a relative way / And arrived on the previous night.
Stephanie smiled. “Great-grandpa Stephen included limericks in his writings.” The Hawking head continued:
So all we need for time travel is a spaceship that will go faster than light. Unfortunately, Einstein showed that the rocket power needed to accelerate a spaceship got greater and greater the nearer it got to the speed of light. So it would take an infinite amount of power to accelerate past the speed of light. … So writers of science fiction had to look for ways to get round this difficulty. In his 1915 paper, Einstein showed that the effects of gravity could be described by supposing that space-time is warped or distorted by the matter and energy in it. We can actually observe this warping of space-time, produced by the mass of the Sun, in the slight bending of light or radio waves, passing close to the Sun…
Stephanie interrupted the Hawking head. “He does go on sometimes,” she said, laughing. “My great-grandfather was probably triggered by our talk of máquina del tiempo. Of course, he doesn’t know we were talking about a totalmente different concept of ‘time machine’. We were talking about the warped minds of the religiosas locas rather than the warping of space-time. We were talking about playing ‘time machine’ with the supposed words of God and …”
The Hawking head interrupted her:
God might have created such a warped universe, but we have no reason to think that He did. All the evidence is that the universe started out in the Big Bang without the kind of warping needed to allow travel into the past. Since we can't change the way the universe began, the question of whether time travel is possible is one of whether we can subsequently make space-time so warped, that one can go back to the past. I think this is an important subject for research, but one has to be careful not to be labeled a crank.
Stephanie used the codip by the celi to quiet the Hawking head. I took the opportunity to press for an answer to my question. “Excuse me, Estephania, are you avoiding my question? Are you Jewish?”
“All right,” she said condescendingly. “My mom’s mother was Jewish. That’s why mom called my great-grandfather Alte-zeide Stephen. I guess that makes me one-quarter Jewish?”
“Well, maybe biologically one-quarter.” I smiled. “But, according to Jewish law, Judaism is inherited exclusively through the female line. So, if your grandmother was Jewish, and neither your mother nor you renounced your Judaism for another religion, you are one-hundred percent Jewish. Felicitaciones! …and mazel tov! I might add. By the way, I am also a biological mish-mash. My father, as you can tell by my name, was British. He claimed to be an Irish Catholic but his background was British Protestant. My mother was Jewish ...”
“Thanks for the information, Jim, but I never acknowledged nor did I renounce any religion.”
With that, Stephanie shook hands with the RRD Head. She then, quite unexpectedly, gave me a full body hug – one that was much too tight and lasted at least ten seconds too long. Her well-toned left leg was pressed between mine, and, as she held me tightly, she did a bit of a hula with her hip in my crotch.
“Welcome aboard Jim! You will be a wonderful addition to my IFB. I look forward to a very satisfying ‘infinite future’ with you!” She released me, nodded, and the meeting was over.
When well clear of the top floor of the TABB building, the RRD Head said: “The Queen Bee likes you – felicitaciones and mazel tov on the lambada hug. I’ve never seen her give a ‘dance of love’ squeeze on an initial meeting. You are definitely on your way up!”
“Way up!” I said, pointing to my pants,
“Sh’ma Yisra’el ...” “I know that’s an important Hebrew prayer,” observed the RRD Head, “How would you translate it?”
"We say the Sh’ma twice at every religious service and we’re supposed to say it just before our airplane crashes! It goes Sh’ma Yisra’el, Adonoi Eloheynu, Adonoi Echod and it means ‘Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God! The LORD is One!’"
The RRD Head rotated left and right. “The translation I’ve heard is ‘Listen, O Israel! The Eternal is our God – the Eternal ALONE.’ An old rabbi explained it to me, ‘One’ is a number, and admits the possibility of ‘Two Gods’ or ‘Three Gods’ or more. ‘Alone’ admits of no such possibility.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that translation. Not exactly literal, but OK.
My eyes suddenly lit up. “I just thought of a better one! ‘Understand, O Israel! Our God is Eternal - Eternal and UNIVERSAL.’ Not quite literal, but I’ll bet we can make it the accepted interpretation, you know, to promote human space travel through the whole universe.”
He nodded up and down. “Nolo problemo and Halleluyah!”
I had another inspiration. “’Allah-Ulyah’ becomes ’Allah is UNIVERSAL,’ according to the new religious order. ‘La Ilaha Ila Allah.’ traditionally mistranslated as ‘There is no God but Allah’ becomes ‘There is no God but the UNIVERSE.’ ‘Allahu Akbar’ traditionally ‘Allah is Great’ is now ‘The UNIVERSE is great.’”
The RRD Head smiled. “Excelente! Stephanie has authorized modo contrario for your PID as necessary during this caper.”
“I know a PID is a Personal ID device everyone carries. Mine is in my wedding ring. But, what the heck is PID modo contrario? That would be ‘countermode’ in Standard English, right?”
“Correct! Nearly everyone ‘voluntarily’ carries a PID. Yours is in a piece of jewelry, some are integrated into ear pods, and I’ve chosen to have mine implanted under the skin of my shoulder.”
“Right, but can you get more specific about modo contrario?”
“Nolo problemo,” replied the RRD Head, “Despite oposición from ‘privacy’ advocates, PIDs are a necessity of modern life, serving as universal credit cards, driver’s licenses, gate passes, and keys to the office, home, auto, and so on. They positively ID cell phone callers, text-messagers, and web-surfers. They leave minute-by-minute tracks of where you’ve been in public places, and when. “That can be ‘inconvenient,’ let us say, if you are performing some TABB-sanctioned activity that would be embarrassing if it became public. Modo contrario is a system enabled by a scepter-holder that deletes PID records for the designated person, and substitutes a false set of PID locations. I hasten to add modo contrario is TBI-Secret. You must not disclose it to anyone without an official ‘need to know’.”
“Sounds neat, but why would I need modo contrario for my work on the religion portion of the Hawking Plan?” I asked.
“Well, you may visit various clerics or TC and government officials and they might not want to have their involvement with the Hawking Plan or TABB made public. That kind of thing.”
The wide coverage of the WIN (Worldwide Information Network – successor to the World Wide Web) made PIDs practical, starting about 2030. By 2035, most “privacy” advocates “got over their support for a lost cause,” as PID proponents proclaimed it to be. PID readers were endemic in public places. They consisted of a video camera, a proximity detector, biometric sniffers, and a transponder that queried PIDs that came into range. The PID response data was analyzed and uploaded for comparison to the data and photos stored in official records. If there wasn’t a positive match, an alert was generated for local law enforcement. The TBI, responsible for prosecution of stolen or counterfeit PIDs, was also alerted. Records of PID readings were public information, accessible for a substantial fee to anyone in near real-time. Thus anyone willing to pay the fee could locate anyone else who was now or ever had been in a public place. Of course, when anyone queried someone else’s PID record that was also public information. The person whose PID records were requested received an alert, giving them the name and city of the person who issued the query. If the subject desired more information about who was tracking them, they could, for a fee, obtain it. TABB-selected public officials who carried scepters sarcastically called themselves the ‘700 club’ although it was public knowledge there were sixteen-hundred of them.
The RRD Head explained to me that they had the authority to grant PID modo contrario to conceal official TABB activities. Scepters were proportionally allocated to geographic areas, language and ethnic groups, and both genders. The sixteen-hundred were awarded with great care by majority vote of all scepter-holders following a full investigation of the candidate by the TBI. For a person to get a scepter a current holder had to “voluntarily” relinquish it or die or retire from a job that required a scepter... or get “exploded.”
The term “explosion” came from the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta Utopia Limited, about an idyllic South-Seas island. Utopia was governed by King Paramount, in theory an absolute despot but in fact quite constrained. A government official, called the “Public Exploder,” followed the King around with a stick of dynamite and a match, always willing – even eager – to blow him to smithereens. However, the Public Exploder was sworn to do his duty only if two other government officials, called the “Wise Men,” agreed with each other that the time had come to terminate the King. Of course, the overly intellectual and fuzzy-brained Wise Men never agreed with each other, so the King was safe, or nearly so.
This critical balance of power had resulted in a well-governed Utopia. That is, until British government “experts” were brought in to “reform” the system in accordance with more “civilized” customs. But, that is another story.
Some oddballs turned their PIDs off, which was quite legal. But, it was also darned inconvenient. Without a PID, they couldn’t buy or sell anything. There was no cash economy to speak of. It was also futile, since they could usually be tracked even without their PIDs. When the video camera of a PID reader sensed a person without a functioning PID it denoted them a “person of interest,” stored a public record of their image and biometrics, and notified local police. The public records of persons of interest could be queried, for a substantial fee, by anyone who provided a photo of their face and an approximate location and time. Thus, an investigator could piece together successive public records and potentially track them. Compiled tracks were available from “seek and track” TCs that specialized in creating time tracks of persons of interest.
The almost universal use of PIDs was what finally broke the back of terrorism. It also put an end to most common criminal activity as well as a good deal of infidelity. Sophisticated TBI software tracked and traced purchases of products and substances that could be used for explosives, illegal weapons, and criminal activities. They also tapped into all PID cell phone and text-message communications and “gisted” them for key words denoting criminal plans.
The cloning and counterfeiting of PIDs and the hacking of TC and TBI computer networks had been reduced to nuisance levels. A stolen PID was of little value since it was detected when the user’s biometrics failed to match the stored biometrics of the rightful owner. High levels of encryption, using a sophisticated Public Key Infrastructure, restricted counterfeit PIDs to the domain of extremely high-tech terrorists and criminal organizations.
The TBI instituted a stringent procedure that mandated each agency or TC to require a client to separately prove his or her identity and give biometric samples, including DNA, to open an account. These data were stored in the computer system of that agency or TC. The TBI periodically accessed all records associated with a given PID and compared them to each other. If they did not match within reasonable limits, that triggered an investigation.
I followed the RRD Head into his office and closed the door. “What else can you tell me about Stephanie?” I asked.
“What do you need to know?” he asked, a grin on his face.
“Well, when I stopped by last week to finish my employment formalities, a woman in Human Resources took me aside. HR has reports she’s sexually aggressive and in a loveless marriage with her husband. They say he’s her merkin. She exploits her sexuality to get her way with subordinates and management. Her sexual favors …”
“So, do you find her sexually attractive?”
“Muy caliente! Forma perfecta y totalmente atlético. She’ll be the star of my autoerotic pleasures forever. That tight hug with her left leg and hula hip pressed against me is engraved in my memory. I liked the way you called it the lambada, the dance of love.”
“That’s a normal reaction, Jim. Don’t be worried about it.”
“A couple times during her lectures in there I had to shift to conceal my arousal. She winked at me as if she knew what I was thinking and was enjoying her power over me! For goodness sake, I’m a happily married man with two young children …”
“Don’t worry about it. She’s just a ‘lemon tree’ woman. 'Lemon tree is very pretty / And the lemon flower is sweet. / But the fruit of the lemon / is impossible to eat.' Enjoy her beauty and pheromones, but don’t eat her sour fruit. She’s lovely to look at and obsess about but you don’t want her for a wife – or a lover either!”
“Sounds like ‘sour grapes’ to me,” I joked.
“Probably correct,” the RRD Head answered, frowning, “I’ve worked for her for two years and am yet to get my first hug.”
