Transhumanist Wager, The (50 page)

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Authors: Zoltan Istvan

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“The bully stealing from the new
kid,” was whispered and chuckled in the backrooms of the Chinese, Indian, and
Brazilian governments.

Despite pressure from A10
sanctions, Transhumania remained mostly unaffected due to its assiduous
commitment to remain independent of the world’s nations and its economies. The
floating city possessed enough on-board resources for many years, and the black
market around the globe was more than sufficient to provide additional measures
for the tiny country.

Reverend Belinas and Senator
Michaelson knew this, and pushed the NFSA further—beyond the law. Way beyond
it. They began meddling in the personal lives of Transhumanians who were former
Americans, seizing their bank accounts, placing IRS liens on properties they
owned, and harassing their U.S. family members who didn't live on the
seasteading nation. When they signed on years ago, Jethro had forewarned Transhumanian
citizens that these things would eventually happen. That precautions like
changing names on titles of real estate and other assets would be imperative.
That moving immediate family members with them onto the floating city was
preferred. During the past five years, many scientists sold their properties
and assets, putting their money into accounts held in Transhumania, or abroad
under secret names and corporations that were untraceable.

Inevitably, some Transhumanians who
were formerly Americans felt intense pressure and returned to their native
cities, caving to the Stalin-like actions of the NFSA. Soon, other A10
countries saw the success of the overboard tactics and also implemented them to
distract and sabotage their defecting scientists. Over the next few months,
hundreds of Transhumania’s citizens left, reluctantly returning to their
homelands. The floating nation felt the pain of an open wound, oozing its own
blood and energy. Science projects in the skyscrapers were left unfinished;
offices and residences were left vacant. The mood was dour. One citizen in
particular, Nobel Prize winner David Cantury, while working on brain neurons
that interact with computer chips, announced his departure and went back to San
Diego, California. Jethro Knights begged him to stay, but he refused.

“They’re targeting my mother,
Jethro. They’re calling her in the middle of the night and giving her goddamn
death threats. I don't want to leave Transhumania, or leave my research
unfinished, but men wearing dark sunglasses are following her around the
grocery store. They’re leaving packages at her front door with human bones
inside them.”

“Bring her here, David. We’ll pay
for everything. We'll have her here by tomorrow—in my personal jet, if you
like.”

“I’ve already told you. She won’t
come. She’s ninety-two years old and incredibly stubborn. She just wants to
finish her life where she is, in the same house she’s been in for over a half
century. I’m sorry, Jethro, but she's my mother. I need to go protect her and
be there for her.”

“They might kidnap you. Or torture
you. Or charge you as a traitor when you're back there. The American Government
is liable to do anything.”

“I know that. But she's my mother.
Do you understand? My mother. I have to go and try to help her.”

Jethro understood. If it were Zoe
Bach or his child doing the same silly thing, he would be in a conundrum. He
told the scientist to come back when he could, and that he was always welcome.
That same night, however, while on a walk through the park at Memorial Vista,
Jethro came to a decision. Staring at the statue of Dr. Nathan Cohen’s
decapitated body being dragged away by black-clad ghouls, it was more than
Jethro could tolerate anymore from America and the A10. David Cantury was
irreplaceable, and his research was essential. He was one of Jethro's top ten
visionaries. His laboratory was filled with 5,000 Petri dishes, and only he
knew exactly what was going on with them. The goal of successfully integrating
brain neurons with computer chips could now be years away.

Jethro phoned his secretary,
instructing her to organize a secret meeting the next day between the military,
science, and technology heads of Transhumania. The time had come to prepare for
the war he always knew was inevitable.

 

 

Chapter 28

 

 

Normally, Jethro Knights called
division heads together on a quarterly basis, when speeches and computer
presentations were made over a four-hour marathon lunch. This time, the
impromptu meeting was called only five weeks after the last major gathering—and
every supervisor knew what it meant.

“Ladies and gentleman, thank you
for coming,” Jethro said from the podium, when all 235 Transhumanian section
leaders filled the conference hall. Behind the seated crowd, the ocean howled
on that stormy day, flexing the skyscraper’s thick windows.

“This is an arduous moment for me,
and these are difficult words I must say to you today. They are going to be
followed by many challenging weeks and months ahead of us. We are entering the
most critical years of the transhuman movement since the NFSA shut it down in
America. As you know, the outside world increasingly attempts to obstruct the
trajectory of this nation. It's the same old bullshit.”

People in the audience nodded in
agreement.

“They have imposed economic
sanctions on Transhumania and its citizens. They are harassing our friends and
families in our former countries. And, eventually, they will pursue a
full-scale military attack directly on our beloved city using whatever
justification they can muster. We don't know when they'll do it. It could be in
weeks, or in many months. Our sources say they clearly mean to halt our
research and eliminate our way of life. I believe they'll stop at nothing to do
so. They aim to stick you all right back into your old worlds—to their poorly
funded universities, insolvent banks, potholed roads, corrupt tax schemes,
stagnating laws, and religiously biased cultures. They mean to befuddle you
like they befuddled themselves.

“You at the lead here in
Transhumania know that we are at the cusp of possessing the technology and
strategy to defeat them. Our four-tier military system is just about ready. Our
aircraft are in the final testing stages; speed records were broken again last
week. The anti-missile defense shield is up and functional. The supercomputers
are ready to dismantle missile navigation systems in seconds. Even our robots
have just returned from their first set of training missions with outstanding
success.

“My friends and colleagues, I
believe the time has come to use our technology and our creations to complete
the goal that was built into the
TEF Manifesto
from the start, which we
all agreed to uphold before coming here. The Transhuman Revolution seeks to
transform the world into a transhumanist-inspired planet. Transhumania aims to
fulfill that goal in order to harness the Earth’s resources and to unite with
those millions of people on the outside who can, and want to, help us
accelerate the greater transhuman mission.

 “I know many of you would prefer a
world without war and violence. I wish I could tell you that kind of world was
possible right now. I wish it was that easy,” Jethro said, his voice tempered.
“It is not possible, however. At least not now. Make no mistake, my friends and
colleagues, this will be war. Death, destruction, and suffering are inevitable,
and the world will not easily forget what we do.

“With those realities in mind, I
have come before you today to give you a choice: If you are not unequivocally
on our side, or if you are not ready to meet those challenges, or if you think
you don't want to be involved, then I request that you terminate your
employment and citizenship on Transhumania. You’ll be given seven days of
departure preparation and free transport off the city to wherever you desire to
go. You can take the money you've earned thus far, but all research, all your
science projects, and all your inventions of technology must stay. You agreed
to that in your contracts before you were allowed to live and work here and be
one of us.

“For those of you who choose to
leave, understand that Transhumania and the
TEF Manifesto
are built upon
the strictest integrity, seeking the best in ourselves and in our mutual
transhuman aims. Cowards, deserters, and those who straddle moral fences while
playing the field are not my idea of venerable transhumanists, or of worthy
colleagues, partners, and friends. I encourage you to carefully weigh your
decision of whether to leave or not. You will not be invited back—not to our
amazing floating city, not to the new world we will forge in the future.”

Jethro gazed into the crowd,
wondering who would leave. He hoped only a few, at most. He needed every single
one of them. And each of them needed each other.

“Every one of you is to go to your
teams and staff today, and tell them the same thing I have told you: war is
imminent. You are also to offer them the same opportunity to leave Transhumania
on the same terms I have given you. Tell them everything exactly as I have told
you just now. If there are those who are afraid, confused, or worried, tell
them to come speak directly to me, or Dr. Langmore, or Mayor Burton, or Mr.
Mbaye. Some of these distressed citizens may need just a little reassurance to
make the right decision.

“For those who stay—all of you, I
hope—a comprehensive war plan is being finalized, but it will likely not be
implemented unless the outside world strikes first. We have that luxury. We
will try to reason with the governments of the world. We will try to help them
come to support our way of life, to join us and provide what they can. But once
they refuse—and they likely will—and once they attack us militarily—and I'm
sure they will try—I will order our defensive forces to retaliate with acute
vengeance. Absolute victory is our foremost goal. We will not leave a major
political building standing on any continent; we will not leave a major
religious structure intact anywhere on the planet; we will not leave any
governments operating freely and independently. The lesson we inflict will be
severe and lasting; the power we demonstrate: undeniable. We will attempt to
avoid casualties to the populace. Infrastructure will be left untouched
wherever possible. Social mayhem and looting will try to be controlled.
Economies and utilities will be ordered to operate. Law and order will attempt
to be maintained as best as can be accomplished.”

Jethro glanced out at the chaotic
sea. His colleagues knew he did not look forward to going through with any of
it. Jethro’s inner desire was to work on his floating mass of creative energy
with good friends and brilliant colleagues for decades to come—to embrace and
celebrate the science, to write philosophical papers on the direction of life
extension, and to directly pursue immortality. There was already enough
technological advancement on Transhumania to guarantee every citizen a far
greater extended life: 120 years plus, easy. And, who could foresee all the
brilliance and innovation that would happen in those extra decades? Vast
amounts, undoubtedly. There was no need to go out there at all.

Regrettably, the smug outside world
wanted in, wanted control. They erroneously deemed it their moral right. And
they would stop at nothing to push their siege on Transhumania, especially as
the city grew stronger every day. But Jethro also deeply believed some of the
world’s population on the outside—possibly much of it—were valuable in and of
themselves; they were significant, unrealized transhuman potential. Especially
if some could be turned and recast: formed and guided away from being sheepish,
religious, fad-chasing consumers into being independent thinkers and creators.
Jethro Knights and every person in that conference center knew this was not
just about transhumanism, but about successfully navigating the possibility of
a Singularity—controlling artificial intelligence and merging with it once it
launched. And not being destroyed by it, or left behind by it, or bedeviled by
it. Humanity was at the very end of its brief existential epoch in time. For
that transition, Jethro needed everything the planet possessed in its arsenal.
Every resource. Every available transhuman mind. Every value possible.

Jethro turned from the ocean and
stated firmly to the leaders of Transhumania, “We want to
teach
the
people of the outside world, not
destroy
them; we want to
convince
them, not
dictate
them; we want them to
join
us, not
fight
us. They may not be essential, but they may help make it possible for us when
it’s time to journey through what
is
essential.”

Jethro stood near the podium after
his speech was over. His eyes were intent as he watched the grave faces of his
colleagues. He lifted his arm, inviting any questions.

“If we win,” called out Dr. Brad
Warner, head of the robotics division, “what will happen afterward? What will
we do? Where will we go?”

Jethro sighed and slumped his
shoulders. “For me this is the most difficult part of the future. Because I
will ask something of you all…that nobody wants to do. Because we all love it
here so much, sharing our dreams and research with the most interesting people
in the world every day.”

Jethro took a deep breath, “I will
ask you to leave Transhumania. In the next few weeks, each of you will be
receiving a personalized pamphlet with details. In short, once we win, I will
request that most of you return to your former homelands. Or wherever you best
fit. You will have a choice, of course, to do as you desire and go where you
like, and take the wealth you’ve earned. Nevertheless, in the best interest of
the transhuman mission, I feel it expedient to appoint you as interim leaders
of your birth nations and its major cities. Many of you will also oversee
massive new science projects that only the resources of individual continents
can foster. Others of you will be asked to found and build new universities and
educational institutes, some of which will become the largest, most populated
learning centers in the world.

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