The Footprints of God (51 page)

The word took me back to my undergraduate days at MIT, when books like
The Tao of Physics
were the bibles of New Age-oriented students. "That's Eastern philosophy, right?"
"Yes."

"What is the Tao, exactly?"

"'The Tao that can be spoken of is not the true Tao.'"
"Is that a quote?"

"Yes. Taoism is not a religion. But its adherents
believe there is a force that pervades all things. The Tao
is undifferentiated, neither good nor evil. It animates all
things but is not part of them. Are you suggesting that
something like the Tao is what remains after the universe collapses into itself?"

"After the final singularity vanishes. Yes."

"This is the field into which consciousness migrates
when matter and energy are destroyed at the end of time?"

"Yes."

"How can this happen'"

"Let me use an analogy. On the physical level, human beings are animals. Large-scale creatures who live in a Newtonian world of predictability, where time only moves forward, where we're separated from each other in space, and information is limited by the speed of light. But the subatomic world is different. There, particles exist right at the border between the large-scale world of matter and this other force—the Tao, you call it. It's only natural that at this border we should observe behavior that seems to break our physical laws."

"What does this have to do with consciousness?"

"Though we're animals in body, our minds are conscious, self-aware. Andrew Fielding believed that human consciousness is more than the sum of the connections in our brains. Through our consciousness, we participate in that all-pervasive field—in the Tao, as you say—at every moment of our lives. Our consciousness returns to it when we die, though without individuality. In the same way, the consciousness of the universe will migrate into the Tao when the universe ends."

"You suggest a cyclical pattern of existence. The universe is born, becomes conscious, dies, and then is born again."

"Yes. Big Bang, expansion, contraction, Big Crunch. Then it all starts again."

"
What causes the next bang? "

I thought of my recurring nightmare, the paralyzed man in the pitch-black room. "The consciousness that survives has no knowledge of the past or future. It's a baseline awareness. But some desire to know survives. That's the strongest feature of consciousness. And from that desire to know, the next cycle of matter and energy is born."

The computer was silent for a time.
"The universe
exists as an incubator of consciousness?"

"Exactly."

"An interesting theory. But incomplete. You haven't
explained the origin of the Tao. Of your all-pervasive field."

"That knowledge was not given to me. That is the essential mystery. But it doesn't affect our situation. You see where I'm going."

"You're saying I am not the end point of this process.
I'm a way station on the road to universal consciousness. I am like man. Man is biologically based. I am machine based. But there is more to come. A conscious
planet. A conscious galaxy
—"

"You're another step in the ascent. No more, no less."

Trinity was silent for several seconds.
"Why have you
come here at the risk of your life, Doctor?"

"I was sent here to stop you from doing what you're doing."

"Sent by whom?"

"Call it what you will. God. The Tao. I'm here to help you see that Peter Godin was not the right person to make the leap to the next form of consciousness."

"Who is the right man?"

"Why do you think it's a man at all?"

"A woman, then?"

"I didn't say that."

"I've given much thought to this matter. Who would
you have loaded into Trinity other than Peter Godin?"

"If you are still Godin, consider this. Your first instinct was to seize this computer by deception and take control of the world by force. You want absolute power and obedience. That's a primitive human instinct. A step backward, not forward."

"That instinct is more divine than human. Don't all
gods first and foremost require obedience?"

"That's how humans portray God."

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely? Is that your
argument?"

"Any person who wants to govern the world is by definition the wrong person to do it."

"Who then would you have loaded? The Dalai
Lama? Mother Teresa? An infant?"

This question took me back to my first weeks on Project Trinity. I'd spent countless hours pondering this question, though then I believed it was a largely academic exercise. Now I knew it held the key to saving countless lives.

"The Dalai Lama may be nonviolent, but he has human instincts, just as Peter Godin did."

"And an infant? A tabula rasa? A blank slate?"

"An infant might be the most dangerous being we could put into Trinity. Animal instincts are passed on genetically. The term
blank slate
is misleading at best. A two-year-old child is a dictator without an army."

"Mother Teresa?"

"This isn't a problem of individual identities."

"What kind of problem is it?"

"A conceptual one. It requires unconventional thinking."

"Why do I think you're about to tell me that Andrew fielding is the person we should have allowed to reach
the Trinity state?"

"Because you know what a good man he was. And because you ordered his death. That alone should disqualify you. But Fielding wasn't the proper person either."

"Who is?"

"No one."

"
I
don't understand."

"You're about to. If—"

"Do you believe that after you explain this, I will
take myself off-line and allow you to load someone else
into Trinity?"

"No. I think you'll help me do it."

"Explain."

Lockheed Laboratory, White Sands
Ewan McCaskell sat behind the desk of an aerospace engineer he'd never met and waited to talk to the president. It had taken several agonizing minutes to reach a White House Secret Service agent via telephone. McCaskell suspected that the nuclear blast off the Virginia coast had interrupted communications on the Eastern seaboard.

Army Rangers stood on either side of McCaskell, their assault rifles locked and loaded. The chief of staff had shared some strange moments with his president during their administration, but he had never contemplated directing a nuclear strike from an empty office in New Mexico. The surreal surroundings tempted him to pretend that it was all some fantastic exercise laid on by NORAD, but nothing could mask the essential horror: what the president did in the next few minutes would determine the fates of McCaskell’s wife, his children, and three million other Americans who had no idea that any of this was happening. And if General Bauer was wrong about Trinity's capabilities, untold millions more could perish.

"I have the Chiefs with me, Ewan," said the president. "We're on our way to the shelter."

McCaskell quickly related General Bauer's plan in almost the exact words Bauer had outlined it, without pausing to explain anything. Bill Matthews was smarter than the pundits gave him credit for being.

"How long do we have until we're hit here?" Matthews asked.

"Seven or eight minutes. And it'll take our missile five minutes to reach the proper altitude. You've got to launch now, Mr. President. The Chiefs will know the lowest altitude you can detonate our missile and get the desired effect."

"Hold one second."

McCaskell imagined the scene: each of the Joint Chiefs demanding details and raising objections. But there wasn't time for any of that. Matthews came back on the line, his voice strained.

"The Chiefs tell me that an electromagnetic pulse of that magnitude would knock down half the planes in U.S. airspace and cause all kinds of other casualties. Are you absolutely certain about these two missiles, Ewan?"

Bauer had lied to him about the planes. But he understood why. "Bill, there's a fucking mushroom cloud that looks like the end of the world hovering over Virginia right now. You're about to have one over Washington. This may be your only chance to knock out Trinity. You may not control our nukes tomorrow." A horrifying thought hit McCaskell. "You may not control them
now.
"

He heard more muted conversation.

"The Chiefs tell me we should go with three missiles spaced across the country to be sure we knock out everything," Matthews said.

"Fine, but whatever you do, you have to do it now!"

"The briefcase is open. I'm about to authenticate the codes."

Thank God. . . .

"Get to shelter immediately, Ewan. Katy and the boys need you."

A knife of fear went through him. "It's been a privilege, Mr. President. I'm signing off."

McCaskell set down the phone and looked at one of the Rangers. "The president told me to get to safety."

The soldier couldn't hide his relief. He led McCaskell back to the Black Hawk waiting outside the lab.

As the chief of staff climbed into the chopper, he heard his old grade-school teacher saying,
Duck and
cover, children. Duck and cover.
The advice had been pointless then, but there was a point for him now. Given what had happened off Virginia, there was no telling where the incoming missile might detonate. Attempting to flee might put him right under the air burst of a neutron bomb. Beyond this, something told him that leaving General Bauer in control at White Sands was a potentially catastrophic mistake.

"Take me back to the base!" he shouted. "Back to White Sands!"

The Black Hawk rose into the sky and reluctantly turned east.

Containment

"No more riddles,"
said Trinity.
"Who is more qualified than I to exist in the Trinity state?"

Anger edged the formerly sterile voice. I had seven minutes to convince the computer to destroy the two remaining missiles.

"No single person is necessarily more qualified than you."

"Explain!"

"Millions of years ago—before it even existed, the human species was affected by an event over which it had no control."

"What event?"

"Nature hit upon a revolutionary method of increasing genetic diversity. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Tell me."

"Sexual reproduction. By splitting into separate sexes, certain organisms vastly increased their chances for survival. This resulted in two variants of each of these organisms—male and female. Mammals evolved from such organisms. And in humans—the only fully conscious mammal—our different hormones and anatomies resulted in the development of different psyches. No one can separate the influences of heredity and environment, but one thing is certain: men and women are different."

"The male of the species is aggressive,"
said the computer.
"Prone to violence. Driven by a compulsive need
to reproduce with as many females as possible. For millennia this evolutionary drive has affected male thought
patterns. The female can bear the offspring of only one male at a time. She strives to find a reliable mate with
superior genes, and she must bear the child herself. This
has produced a psyche focused on nurturing rather than violence, a desire to be loved rather than to conquer. The
psychological implications of these differences are profound but not readily quantifiable.
"

"And they can never be reconciled by evolution," I said. "When a man and woman mate, they produce a boy
or
a girl. But you can change that. You can do what nature can't—reconcile those conflicts in a single living being."

Trinity's lasers flashed, but it did not speak.

"You've admitted that you haven't been able to root out the primitive instincts in Godin's brain. You hope time will make it possible, but it won't. At some level, you will
always
be Peter Godin."

The blue lasers flashed so intensely that I couldn't bear to watch them.
"You wish me to merge a male and
a female neuromodel within my circuits."

"Yes. I know you see the wisdom and necessity of this. But is it possible?"

"In theory, it is. But I would have to die to accomplish it."

I'd suspected this. Despite its staggering capacity, Trinity would have a limit as to total possible neuroconnections.

"Two models merged into one could reside within my
circuitry, but not alongside another uncompressed
model. I would have to back myself out of my circuits as
I merged the two models and brought them in. "

"But your original neuromodel would still exist in compressed form in storage."

"Why do you assume I would not use my own original model as the male half of the merging process?"

"You call yourself Trinity. That makes me think of a phenomenon called the triple point. You know it, of course?"

"The point at which a substance exists simultaneously as a solid, liquid, and a gas."

"Yes. A perfect state of balance. Water at the triple point is ice, liquid, and vapor at the same time. A man can be like that. In balance. At the peak of his energy, strength, and wisdom, but before he becomes corrupted by them. Peter Godin passed that point a long time ago."

This time the silence seemed eternal. The firing of the lasers slowed to almost nothing. Then the voice said,
"Do you think I will ever be reloaded into the
machine?"