Wired (9 page)

Desh considered. “So
how do you administer this viral gene cocktail of yours?”

“Injections in the
beginning. But I ultimately made advances and was able to imbed the solution
inside hollowed-out gellcaps. This is basically the same as drinking the mix,
except the gellcaps deliver precise doses and are more convenient. A gellcap
hits the stomach, dissolves almost immediately, and releases the collection of
genetically engineered viruses. They travel to the brain instantly and within a
relatively short time they’ve inserted their payload genes into cellular
chromosomes, which are rapidly expressed.”

Desh paused in
thought. “Were you able to eliminate the negative effects?”

Kira sighed
heavily. “For the most part,” she said.

“What does that
mean?”

“I lost my ability
to feel emotions. I became purely analytical, achieving thought in its purest
form, divorced from any bias or emotional baggage. I did the experiments in my
condo,” she explained. “I locked myself in and was alone, so I can’t be certain
there weren’t other personality changes that would have been noticeable to
people who knew me.” She lowered her eyes. “But there was one effect of the rewiring
that was particularly troubling to me,” she admitted.

Desh looked on
expectantly.

“During the short
time the effect lasted,” said Kira Miller, “my thoughts became more and more,”
she paused as if searching for a word. She frowned and shook her head
worriedly. “I guess the best word for it would have to be,
sociopathic
,”
she finished disturbingly.

13

Desh’s eyes
widened. Once again, Kira Miller had surprised him. She had made such an effort
to convince him she
wasn’t
a sociopath, chipping away at his resolve
with worrisome effectiveness, only to make a statement like
this
.

“That’s
convenient,” said Desh. “You’re a model citizen. It’s this procedure of yours
that somehow brings out the psycho in you. Is that it?” he demanded, annoyed
that he had let himself be taken in by her for even a moment.

“Look, David, I
didn’t have to share this with you. But the only way you’ll ever trust me is if
I tell you the absolute truth about everything. And no, I still didn’t do any
of what Connelly says I did. These were thoughts only. I didn’t act on them,”
she insisted. “They were simply strong predispositions, and they went away when
my brain architecture returned to normal.”

“So tell me about
this state of sociopathy,” said Desh.

Kira frowned. “Just
so I’m clear,” she said, “sociopathy isn’t the exact right word for it either. Neither
is ‘psychopath’ or ‘megalomaniac’, although they come almost as close. Basically,
it’s pure selfishness with a complete and utter lack of conscience. Whatever
you choose to call it. A ruthless selfishness, so to speak.”

“As opposed to
what?”

“As opposed to
this same condition with a sadistic element attached.”

Desh considered. “I
see,” he said. “So you don’t get your jollies by torturing others, but if you
had to do so to achieve an end it wouldn’t trouble you in the slightest. Is
that about right?”

Kira nodded
reluctantly.

“That’s
comforting,” said Desh with a look of disgust. He paused in thought. “This
something-like-sociopathy of yours seems like an unlikely side effect of your
treatment,” he said suspiciously.

Kira frowned. “I
thought so too before the experiments. Now I realize it’s more of a natural
outgrowth of enhanced intelligence than a side effect of the re-wiring.”

“How so?”

“The concepts are
quite complicated. To be honest, when my intelligence is at normal levels,
they’re beyond me. But I’ll do my best to give you the gist of it.” She
gathered her thoughts and exhaled loudly. “Let me start at the very beginning. When
our ancient relatives first arrived on the scene, they weren’t the king of the
hill. Far from it. They barely managed to stay
on
the hill. Pre-humans
were just one of thousands and thousands of species battling for a tiny niche
on a planet teeming with life. If you were a betting man, we were a
million-to-one underdog to survive, let alone climb to the top of the food
chain. No armor. No speed. No physical weapons.”

“But then
intelligence came along,” said Desh.

“That’s right. The
polar bear could survive just fine without it. But we
desperately
needed
it. Intelligence was the only way out for our ancestors, and they achieved it
just in time.” She paused and eyed Desh meaningfully. “And intelligence in
survival terms means cunning, utter ruthlessness, and utter selfishness.” She
raised her eyebrows. “What you might consider sociopathic behavior in its
primal form.”

Desh reflected on
what he had seen of the underbelly of human behavior during his time with Delta
Force. He had seen things that would make a veteran pathologist vomit. Decapitations
and other unspeakable tortures—displays of cruelty that defied the imagination.
Without question, violence and brutality—and bloodlust—were intrinsic to human
nature. Scratch any century throughout recorded history and staggering displays
of cruelty came gushing out: the slaughter of helpless innocents on a massive
scale, brutal wars, enslavements, tortures, mass rapes and murders, and other
atrocities far too numerous to ignore. Hitler was just one example in a
seemingly endless parade. Humanity could wrap itself in the cloak of
civilization and pretend this side of its nature didn’t exist, but the
hostility and savagery that drove the most dangerous predator on the planet to
the top of the food chain was always seething, just below the surface.

“To survive,”
continued Kira, “Homo sapiens evolved intelligence, and a ruthlessness and
selfishness hardwired into our genes. That’s one side of the equation.” She
paused. “But a cunning and ruthless intelligence alone wasn’t enough. Along
with intelligence we had to use teamwork to bring down the mastodon. And our
brains were so complex they still needed to develop long after birth. Human
infants were helpless for far longer than any other animal on Earth. So our
selfishness had to be tempered. We had to evolve some sense of teamwork and
fair play. We had to sacrifice for our children and put the clan’s survival
above our own.”

Desh was totally
drawn into the conversation intellectually now, temporarily forgetting to
remain suspicious of Kira’s every word and action.

“So those who were
only
selfish,” she continued, “died out in the long run. Those who were
wired to be totally ruthless, but could also cooperate and work in a pack,
survived to have offspring. To this day, a delicate balance of pure selfishness
in some respects and pure selflessness in others is hardwired into our genes. For
the sake of discussion, let’s use extremes. Call this selfishness sociopathy. Call
this selflessness altruism.”

“So you believe
there is such a thing as altruism? That Abraham Lincoln got it wrong?”

Kira Miller tilted
her head, intrigued, and gazed at Desh approvingly, impressed that he was
familiar with the apocryphal story attributed to Abraham Lincoln.

In the story,
Lincoln was traveling on a train and discussing human nature with a fellow
passenger. The passenger insisted that such a thing as altruism existed,
whereas Lincoln maintained with great vigor that all human acts were purely
selfish. During the discussion, Lincoln noticed a baby goat lying across the
tracks far ahead. He immediately called for the train to stop, got out, and
gently lifted the goat off the tracks. The train started up again and the
passenger said, “Why Abe, you just proved my point. You just committed a
totally selfless act.” To which Abe replied, “Quite the contrary. I just proved
my
point. The act was totally
selfish
.” The passenger was
confused. “How so?” he asked. To which Lincoln replied, “If I would have done
nothing to save that poor animal, I would have felt just
awful
.”

Kira’s eyes
sparkled as she considered her response. “Insightful question,” she said. “For
what it’s worth, I actually think Lincoln was right. But for the sake of this
discussion, this is more semantics than anything. Altruistic behavior exists
and is hardwired into our genes. Whether it is merely another facet of
selfishness isn’t germane to my point.”

Desh raised his
eyebrows. “Which is?”

“Which is that
this delicate balance between the competing poles of sociopathy and altruism
can be shifted in one direction or another very readily. Granted, some people
are born with a strong genetic predisposition one way or the other, but most of
us are balanced on a razor’s edge. An average man who is the recipient of acts
of caring and kindness will often perform charitable acts in return. This same
man, given a slight push the other way, will pursue his self-interests even at
the expense of others—even at the suffering of his own friends and family. In
order to ensure that civilization can exist, that the scales are slightly
tipped toward altruism, human intelligence had to invent religion.”

Desh frowned. “Invent
religion?”

“That’s right. There
have been thousands of different religions through time. And the followers of
each of these religions believe that their founders received the divine answer,
and that the religious mythology of all other religions is delusional. Almost
everyone agrees that all the
other
religions were invented by man, just
not the particular one into which they were born.”

Desh decided not
to argue the point. “Go on,” he said.

“Most religions
subscribe to the belief that there is something bigger than us out there,”
continued Kira. “That there is some purpose to human suffering. That there is a
form of continued existence after death. All of this helps to bolster the
altruistic side of the human equation. Why not be totally selfish?—especially
now that we don’t really need clans to survive: we can take down the mastodon
alone. The answer: because there will be a reward or punishment in the
next
life.” She paused and shook her head. “But what if you knew with absolute
certainty that when you died, that was it? There was no afterlife of any kind. Why
not be totally selfish? With no God, what is the point to anything? There is no
right and wrong: there is only doing what will make you happy. You have a short
time to be alive—why not maximize the experience? To hell with anyone else.”

Desh looked
thoughtful. “Because even if you believed there was no afterlife, altruism is
still wired in. That was Lincoln’s point: altruism provides its own reward. Being
good makes people feel good.”

“Excellent,” she said.
“This is true. So a certainty that there is no afterlife doesn’t necessarily
imply that pure sociopathy reigns. It isn’t perfectly straightforward. But it’s
definitely a step down that path.” She paused. “And our society does have laws.
So even if you reasoned that nothing really mattered, that good and evil were
relative, and were determined to be completely selfish, you would have to
perform a risk-reward analysis. Why not steal that luxury car that you love? One
reason is that if you get caught, you’ll go to jail. There are risks that your
selfish act would lead to a worse existence rather than a better one.”

Desh’s eyes
narrowed. “Unless you had absolute power,” he noted.

Kira nodded. “Exactly.
I won’t resort to the overused cliché, but if you didn’t believe in the
afterlife and could get away with doing anything you wanted, sociopathic
behavior would become more and more likely.”

“So that’s the
connection,” guessed Desh. “In your enhanced state you feel that you can do
whatever you want.”

“Exactly. With
intelligence this great, you can’t help but feel superior and almost
invincible. And you really could get away with almost anything. At the same
time, you clearly see the stark reality. There is no God. There is no
afterlife.”

Desh bristled at
this pronouncement. “Why would increased intelligence necessarily make you an
atheist?” he challenged.

“The change in
brain architecture transforms you into a purely intellectual creature. There is
no longer room for faith, something you have to have to sustain a belief in God
and the afterlife.”

“So how does your enhanced
intellect grapple with the question of how the universe came to be? It surely
must have been created, which implies a creator.”

“I can’t come
close to understanding my thinking on this subject while in the transformed
state. What I do know is that when I’m enhanced, I’m
absolutely
convinced
that God does not exist.” She paused. “You asked me who created the universe. Let
me ask you this: who created God?”

Desh frowned. “God
is eternal. He didn’t need a creator.”

“Really?” said Kira.
“Then why does the
universe
need one? If
God
can exist without a
creator, why can’t the universe? No matter how you slice it, at some point you
get to something that existed without being created. Which is impossible for
even an enhanced mind to fully comprehend. Conjuring up a God to explain
creation is just a convenient cheat unless you’re prepared to explain how God
originated.” She paused. “And even if you accepted God for the sake of
argument, why would an omniscient, omnipotent being waste his time creating
humanity? The more intellect you bring to bear on the question, with faith out
of the picture, the more certain you become that God is just a construct of the
human mind, nothing more.”

Desh shook his
head in irritation and disagreement but didn’t argue further. “So enhanced
intelligence alters the balance of power in the altruism versus sociopathy
war.”

Kira nodded. “It
takes very little reasoning in this state to justify any selfish act I can
contemplate. If someone is in my way—killing them makes perfect intellectual
sense. What does it matter if they die now or in thirty years? Either way,
existence is meaningless. God is dead. Why shouldn’t I do what is needed to
achieve my potential?” She raised her eyebrows. “Remind you of anything?” she
asked pointedly.

Desh had minored
in philosophy in college, as Kira was no doubt aware from her study of him. He
looked troubled. “Friedrich Nietzsche’s will to power,” said Desh unhappily. Nietzsche
had glorified the concept of a superman. Not the Clark Kent variety, but a man
whose sense of good and evil was based solely on what would help him succeed or
fail. Good was anything that would help him achieve his potential. Evil was
anything that would hamper him.
What is good? All that heightens the feeling
of power in man, the will to power, power itself. What is bad? All that is born
of weakness.

Kira frowned. “I’m
afraid so,” she confirmed. “In the enhanced state, as soon as you contemplate
any of the eternal questions, you quickly reinvent this school of philosophy
before taking it to a level of sophistication that the world’s greatest
philosophers couldn’t possibly comprehend.”

There was a long
silence in the room.

“But you said you
haven’t acted on any of these sociopathic tendencies,” said Desh finally. “Is
that right?”

“So far, no,” she
said gravely. “My inherent sense of altruism and fair play has been strong
enough—barely—to prevent me from acting on these impulses. But they’re quite
strong,” she admitted. “It’s been tempting to let go of my last bit of pesky
Neanderthal wiring and release myself from all moral and ethical bonds,” she
said, a deeply troubled look on her face. “
Very
tempting.”