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Authors: Anthony D. Thompson

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BOOK: The 2084 Precept
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And it took me no time at all to figure out
how, because a girl, a young woman who had been sitting at one of
the tables, stood up and started to walk in our direction.

"It would definitely be amusing, Mr.
Parker," I said, "if that young woman coming towards us were to
stop and ask me if she could meet up with me this evening. Don't
misunderstand me, nothing untoward involved, just meet. How about
that?"

He smiled at this, nodded briefly. And the
girl looked great. Not beautiful, but attractive, very pretty face
surrounded by shoulder length dark brown hair, dressed in a stylish
short white coat and, boy, what legs, the kind of legs we men
always say we would die for—which we wouldn't, of course, we would
look for another pair—but certainly the kind of legs which start
you thinking about what you would do like to do with them, and, as
far as one could tell, the rest of her figure was great as well.
Ah, and what do we mean by that? We mean a flat stomach, a nice
ass, not too big, not too small, and of course great breasts, also
not too big and not too small, and preferably nicely round-shaped
and firm. Most women don't appreciate this kind of thinking at all.
They don't wish to be viewed as sex objects—except, needless to
say, those who have no chance of ever being viewed as sex
objects—but they can't change it and there's nothing they can do
about it, and it's just the way things are, tough luck. Nor can we
men change it either, but then nor do we want to, there is no tough
luck for us, no sir, not at all.

When I refer to 'we men', I am of course
referring only to men such as myself. I agree that there are other
kinds, including homosexuals.

As she approached us, she suddenly looked up
at me, her face broke into a huge wide smile—incredibly white teeth
as well, another turn-on—and she said, "Hi, great to see you again.
How are things?"

"Uh…hi…do we know each other? I'm terribly
sorry… but I don't seem to recall…"

"Oh that's understandable, "she replied, "we
were in a group of people and it was only for a short while. My
name is Caroline. But I'm glad we've met again, there is something
you could maybe help me on. Might we perhaps meet for a coffee or
something? I don't suppose today would be possible, would it,
sometime this evening?"

Well, by chance it
would
be possible,
I told her. I gave her the hotel phone number and my name and my
room number and suggested we meet in the lobby at 8 o'clock, maybe
have dinner if she had the time. That's fantastic, she said, what a
piece of luck, I look forward to it tremendously, and with a gay
smile and a wave to both me and Jeremy, off she went. And I watched
the legs as she went. Oh man, oh man.

Yes, and I reserve the right to describe her
smile as 'gay'. I choose to ignore those of a certain sexual
inclination who have purloined the word and twisted its meaning
into something else, presumably because they don't like the
perfectly lucid and accurate word 'homosexual', which is
nevertheless what they are.

"I would be grateful," said Jeremy, "if,
although presumably against your inclination, we could go back to
my office and finalize our conversation, one way or the other.
Whichever way it turns out to be. I shouldn't think it will take
more than another 10 minutes or so."

You can imagine, I dare say, the state I was
in. First of all, it was a concrete fact that I was in the presence
of a deranged person suffering from mind-blowing delusions.
Mind-blowing ones. Perhaps it was Jeremy Parker himself, escaped
from his mental institution. And at the same time, it would also
appear to be a concrete fact that he was in possession of some
extraordinary powers, telepathic powers, with the ability of being
able to steer others into performing certain actions and saying
certain things. An amazing state-of-the-art hypnotist perhaps. And
a person with those kinds of powers had to be a dangerous person, a
very dangerous person indeed. I didn't even want to think about
what events such a person could trigger if he felt like it,
wandering around as he was on the loose.

It was clear to me that I should really
report him to both the police and the appropriate health
authorities as soon as I possibly could. Like
now
. But at
the same time, what could I tell them? That he says he is an
extraterrestrial and that he can make people do things? And if he
denies the former and refuses to demonstrate the latter, and states
that he is a normal, law-abiding citizen and a respected
businessman to boot and can prove both, what then? Perhaps
I
would be the one to be taken into custody, or worse, perhaps he
could even sue me for slander. Or, God or Allah forbid, perhaps he
could even make
me
do and say things which could get me into
very serious trouble. If he were able to, of course. Because,
despite all evidence to the contrary, my brain was still attempting
to arrive at a conclusion as to whether or not it had factually
experienced what it had.

Confused is a poor word to describe my
feelings. I am not your jittery type of person, but I was, no
arguing, feeling jittery. Disordered. But I decided I wouldn't mind
asking him a couple of additional questions before I cleared off,
never to return, never again, no way thank you very much. Fun is
fun, but enough is also enough. And so I followed him back to the
office, back to the meeting room, sat down, declined his offer of a
drink and looked him straight in the eye.

He pulled unnecessarily at his shirt cuffs.
He tugged on his cufflinks. They were expensive ones, no doubt
about it. He was nervous. Wondering whether I was convinced
enough—or greedy enough—to continue being an actor in his fantasy
theater.

"As you now know and hopefully accept," he
said, "I can cause certain things to happen. Only with people,
their brains. I could not, for example, cause this building to fall
down, or have a bottle of water fly over from that corner table. No
physical objects, no material, no matter. But I can influence the
brain's electrical impulses. I can use Jeremy’s small inheritance
and have a bank manager authorize me a small amount of credit. I
can influence the owner of a small loss-making company to sell it
to me for very little in return for me taking over the company's
crippling debt burden. I can meet with potential customers and have
them order from me instead of from my competitors. And, having
expanded my company and made it extremely profitable, I can buy
other companies and create a strong business group whose stability
is reinforced by the fact that it operates in a variety of
different manufacturing and financial sectors. Diversity, you
understand. More than one leg to stand on."

He ran his hands through his short blond
hair. Tugged on his cufflinks again. Gave me a querying look.
Received a blank stare in return.

"Nobody was hurt," he continued. "I repaid
the bank loan. I saved the business owner from bankruptcy. And my
customers buy products and services which are as good as, and
frequently better than, those they could obtain elsewhere - and,
more often than not, cheaper. In addition, they can change their
supplier whenever they want to, and some have done just that, I
undertake nothing to forcibly retain them. And I personally receive
more money than I need. Salary, bonuses, expenses, stock options,
dividends, and so on. And I use it all freely for my research
purposes, in addition to providing my physical self with a pleasing
standard of living while enjoying the hospitality of your planet.
Hopefully this answers most of the remaining open questions we
had?"

"Interesting, Mr. Parker, and understood," I
said, "but if you don't mind, I have a couple of additional
questions. For example, why are you studying this particular
planet?"

"No problem. I simply form part of a student
group which will eventually join the bureau responsible for
monitoring life forms throughout the universe. In order to complete
our doctorate studies, we are required to choose a current life
form and write a thesis about it. I just happen to have chosen
yours—for no particular reason. I could have chosen somewhere
else."

"O.K. Next question, can you read our minds?
Can you read
my
mind?"

"Ah, another unavoidable question! No, I
can't do that, Mr. O'Donoghue. Furthermore, I would consider it
highly undesirable were such a thing to be possible, and presumably
you would also." Another chuckle.

"But you
could
make me say and do
things against my will, is that right?"

"Yes, that is right, I could. But I
wouldn't. First of all, we would never manipulate the minds of
research interviewees; that would be counterproductive and
self-defeating. Secondly, we are in any case not allowed to; it
would be contrary to our university code of ethics. And thirdly,
our particular species is a benevolent one, as you would naturally
expect of an intelligent species—as opposed to one like yours—and
any use we make of this capability with regard to third parties is
always harmless.
May
only be harmless in fact, not that, by
our very nature, we would be otherwise inclined. So on that front,
you need have no fears at all for yourself personally, nor indeed
for anybody else."

"But back to the girl I spoke to just now,
down in the street, I've been thinking about it. She knew me, she
recognized me, so there was no input from you, was there? It was
just a coincidence. In fact, the more I think about it, it could
also have been a coincidence that that waiter dropped his
tray."

"Some coincidences," he replied, "don't you
think? No…with regard to that young lady, I merely thought up a
scenario as to why she might want to meet you this evening, or
rather why she would
think
she might want to meet you. And I
hacked into her mind and placed the thoughts."

"Just like that? No work involved? Were you
born
with this ability?"

"Not really, but it is something we learn
when very young. The result of technical advances made during our
evolution. It is a simple technology, one which your species will
fully acquire in the not too distant future. In fact, you have
already started. There are documented cases of certain doctors
healing patients by means of hypnosis. You have hypnotists who can
do other things, including on stage. And the next step for you is
to learn how to communicate with each other without the need to use
either speech or the written form."

Now that
did
send a small shiver up
my spine. Or down it, I am never sure in which direction the shiver
is supposed to go. Because I happen to know by chance that we have
recently started to do things like that. Using magnetic resonance
tomography, for example.

"During my research into this field, I came
across a neurology professor in Canada," Jeremy said, "who has
recently commenced communicating with a traffic-accident patient
who has been in a coma for over a decade, albeit awake. The patient
is placed in a kind of brain activity scanner and is asked
questions such as 'are you in pain?' and the scanner reads the
resulting brain activity and determines the yes or no answer. That
is a first step," continued Jeremy. "It can only work if the
patient's reticular activating system is still working of course,
but that appears to be so in this case."

"And", he continued, "I also see that you
have made initial advances at universities around the world. In the
USA, I have read with interest of the work going on at Harvard's
Laboratory of Neuromodulation and the research at Washington
University, among others. I have read that the latter has two
neuron research experts, Rajesh Rao and Andrea Stocco, who have
been able to send magnetic impulse commands from Rao's brain to
Stocco's, by means of computer-connected headsets and using the
Internet. I understand that an early experiment allowed Rao to
cause one of Stocco's fingers to move. Without words, you
understand."

"Did you say the Internet, Mr. Parker? That
sounds a little far-fetched if I may say so."

"You may indeed say so. But your brains are
capable of far more than the Internet. I notice that your World
Wide Web currently has about 20 billion websites which are
connected by about a trillion links. Your brain tissue, however,
contains nearly 100 billion neurons, connected by about 100
trillion synapses. Not bad when you consider that it weighs only
1.4 kilograms on average. And you have roughly 90 billion glial
cells which, by the way, are the non-neuronal cells providing a
support function to the neurons and certain of the neurons'
activities. Human brains, the intelligent ones I should say, are
capable of far more than the Internet. Just imagine the
potential."

I was certainly imagining all sorts of
things. But it all sounded too theoretical to me. The world is
littered with brilliant hypotheses which have never made it. On the
other hand, it has to be said, the world is littered with
a
few
brilliant hypotheses which
have
made it.

“Also of interest to me,” continued Jeremy,
“was the alternative approach being pursued by your Kavli Institute
of Nanoscience at the Delft University of Technology in Holland.
They have reliably achieved the teleportation of quantum
information (the ‘spin state’ of electrons in this instance) from
one place to another without actually moving the physical matter to
which the information is attached. They have done this repeatedly
over a distance of three meters with a 100% success rate. This has
solved the problems encountered by your University of Maryland a
few years ago, in which only one of every 100 million attempts
succeeded.

“It certainly sounds fascinating, Mr.
Parker, but……”

“Allow me if you will, Mr. O’Donoghue, just
to summarize. In Delft, they are now testing at a distance of more
than a kilometer. And if they succeed at that, they will have
obtained an answer to the Irish physicist John Bell’s 1964 theorem,
which raised the query as to whether particles connected via
quantum entanglement can communicate information; and not only
that, but faster than the speed of light. That is all I have to say
at the moment, Mr. Parker. You have started on the path and you
will one day achieve the ability my species already possesses,
assuming of course that you survive long enough. And whether you
choose to call it hypnosis, telepathy, thought transfer, or
teleportation doesn’t really matter.”

BOOK: The 2084 Precept
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