the machine starts - part 3

“A small celebratory drink is in order, I think. Let’s get off campus.” Of course the WorldNet campus – despite all its fun rooms and break-out hubs and think spaces and gyms; its primary colours and brash artwork and dazzling light effects – was dry.

“All thanks to a dream.”

“Don’t be modest.”

They picked up Frank and took Greg’s more modest Merc. They were amused to see the small crowd of protestors that gathered every Tuesday across from the gatehouse with their by now slightly tatty placards. They circled around on the grass verge opposite and let out a few chants. They always seemed harmless, in an alien conspiracy, world apocalypse kind of way. Today they looked rather dispirited and seemed to be breaking up. The guy whom Alfie identified as their leader, after seeing many weeks of this – a tall, bearded guy who looked like a humanities professor, in scruffy jeans and a black tshirt with a picture of an alien on the front – was shaking his placard and gesticulating at them. Greg drove along the bay highway, past the Google campus, then turned towards the old town, a few blocks through the single storey suburban desert that is Palo Alto. He pulled off the road at a little Japanese sushi place where they let you sit at the bar and just drink; bars being a rarity here. They might pick at a plate of sashimi later. This was their little oasis from the unwavering ethos of WorldNet – what Alfie liked to call ‘smiley pressure’ – that culture where there was never failure, only a new opportunity for success; never a problem, just a challenge. They started coming here to get away from Ethan when WorldNet was not much more than a start-up. Since that initial meeting with Frank, they had been pleasantly surprised to find that he was a fellow cynic, and they had started bringing him along.

The place was almost empty. Yoshi at the bar gave them a big grin and they sat on the stools. So they got a rather special saki and were just toasting each other, when a scruffy figure came in: the professor from the demo.

He walked straight up to them. “Yes, I knew it.”

Alfie looked up at him. He knew him from the demo of course, but now, seeing him up close, he looked strangely familiar.

“It’s Alfred Beckinsale, isn’t it?”

“Weren’t you at…?”

“King’s.”

“Patrick something?”

“Dunwoody.”

“Patrick Dunwoody! Yes. You were a rowing blue, weren’t you?” Alfie sized up his still substantial build.

“Don’t change the subject. We need to have a word.” He and his two companions suddenly looked a little threatening.

“Two words actually”, chipped in Frank, turning back to the bar.

Dunwoody ignored him. “Why haven’t you been answering my emails?”

“Emails? Oh wait – you’re not that Stanford guy who keeps…”

“I’m researching Political Theory in the Digital Age.”

“Very grand.” Another chip from Frank.

“Look, we’re just having a little drink here and have some private business.” Greg swung around on his stool and put his hand on the professor’s arm. Why don’t you write in to Alfie and…”

Dunwoody violently shrugged him off and grabbed Alfie by the lapel. “This is not a joke. This is life threatening.”

“The end of the world is nigh.” Frank grinned into his saki.

“Actually, Patrick… can I call you Patrick?... I did read some of your emails…”

“Before switching them to Spam!”

“It’s OK, Frank.”

Frank shrugged and shut up.

“I really think he should…”

“It’s OK, Greg. Look, Patrick: I hear what you say. I’m as concerned about the world as the next man. I believe in man-made climate change. I believe neo-liberalism is taking us to hell in a hand-cart – I could almost, but not quite, believe there is a conspiracy in capitalism. Not quite: because with a market controlled by greed and fear, you don’t need a conspiracy to achieve what’s happened.”

“It’s worse than that, there’s…”

“No there’s not, Patrick. Frankly, you should know better. Calm analysis, rational theory…”

“What exactly does he believe then?” said Greg.

“That aliens are taking over the earth!”

“That’s grossly simplifying what I said. But…” Dunwoody let it trail away.

Greg looked at him, laughing; then saw he was serious.

“Didn’t you read the placards?” said Alfie.

“I thought they were about how evil WorldNet are for making big profits.”

“Yep and therefore run by little green men.” Frank, chipping again.

“Well you might have something there: look at Alfie. He’s looking a bit green around the gills.”

“Don’t encourage him.”

“This is not some kind of joke, gentlemen.” Patrick let go of Alfie and stood up to his full height. “I have been more and more convinced for several years. Think about it.”

“About what?”

“I’m not saying there are aliens in our midst. Exactly.”

“Oh, just around the edges?”

“Let him speak: do you want some sashimi?”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

“Figures. Get him some wasabi peas, Yoshi.” Frank gestured over the bar.

He took a deep breath: his big chance to get through to WorldNet. “And I have done my ‘calm analysis’, my - my ‘rational theorizing’. So, look. Look at recent history. A few decades ago, there were no computers. IBM were saying there would only ever be a need for one giant computer. Then each university got one machine. It filled a couple of rooms. To use it you had to send in punch cards and get the results back the next day.”

“Ah, the good old days!”

Dunwoody ignored the facetious comments. “Now, everyone has one. I’ve got two in my pocket right now.” He fished out a smartphone and brandished it. “More computing power than the Apollo program. Every year, they are faster, more complex. Constant new ideas coming forward for storage and processing power. And now, the data are all moving to the Cloud: all information is being centralized. Then, at the same time – social networking. Suddenly we are recording everything we do, posting it online. Have you been to a rock concert lately? Everyone isn’t watching it directly, they’re holding up their cell phones and taking vids and sending them straight to MultiFace.”

Alfie thought of Dan on their last visit to the redwoods, walking through the forest constantly taking pictures. “Yes. And?”

“It’s all happened so quickly. Twenty years ago I didn’t have a cell phone. Twenty-five years ago almost no-one did. All this information, being sucked up. In the wrong hands, someone…”

“…Or some thing…” Frank gave a spooky laugh.

“All this information going into the Cloud, to be used for any purpose.”

“Or none.”

“Except to tailor adverts to you.”

“Yes, it all seems perfectly innocent, doesn’t it?”

“Patrick, this is all very well, but…” Like his Dad again.

But Patrick was in full flow, passionately outlining the recent history of information technology. “…And the devices. Devices that improve our motor skills.”

“Not mine, I’m rubbish with all those little buttons...” But Alfie thought about Dan, and his obsession with getting quicker – to the next level, to the end of the game. It was all so much faster than during his childhood. And Kath, multitasking and keeping up several conversations at the same time, with god knows who. And now with his new device, as yet unnamed, that could make the interface… make the whole thing even quicker.

“Patrick, none of this supposes any kind of conspiracy, or government plot, or alien intervention… it’s just normal progress.”

“Really? Normal progress? In a few short years, look how far we’ve come. Digital, instant pictures and videos that can be sent around the world. Dated, stored, located on WorldNet Maps. Instant access to all information. Kids only interested in their phones and their games, developing a new set of skills humanity never had, forgetting all the old skills and interests, their unformed brains forging new pathways, new patterns of thought.”

Alfie thought of their new device, as yet unnamed, that could make the whole thing even quicker, have an even bigger impact on thought patterns and processes.

Frank swung around. “Welcome to the Information Revolution, old timer. It’s the next thing after the Agricultural Revolution and the Industrial Revolution. You want our kids to go back to marbles and hopscotch?”

“It’s all too quick.”

“So your theory is….?”

“We’re being given the tools. And we’re all being trained for something.”