The Cirrus T-80 taxied to the
hangar and only briefly paused to wait for the hangar door to open for it. Then we taxied into the hangar and the
doors immediately started to close off our view of a very cold valley. Instead of entering the freight section
of the plane again we exited from the cabin down a short flight of stairs that
was part of the plane’s built-in debarking equipment. Once on the hangar floor I noticed the
temperature was not more than 60 degrees Fahrenheit. Our hosts pointed to a large steel door
and we followed them into a very large elevator. You don’t see twenty meters by twenty
meters elevators very often. Even
the ceiling was ten meters high.
From there we descended at least sixty meters down until the doors opened
up on a large storage room. There
was everything you could think of.
Industrial size 3D printers, foodstuffs, tanks of oxygen, nitrogen, and
other rare gases, and many other crates of items I could not guess at lined the
walls and large industrial shelves.
Waiting for us was a small electric vehicle that we all piled into. Sir Terrance told the vehicle to take us
to his quarters. We zoomed off to
the other end of the large storage room to another elevator that took us still
in the vehicle to another floor that must have been another thirty meters
down. When the doors opened the
interior was slick and modern. The
vehicle took off again down a large hall and stopped at a door that only had a
room number of 117. At this point
Dr. Larson walked down the hall and disappeared into another
doorway.
The door automatically opened
for the rest of us and we all entered what looked like a reception area where we
were greeted by a GAIC unit that looked very feminine. We proceeded through another set of
doors and were in what looked like a combination living room and research
lab. The Princess did not say a
word but walked to a copper colored door and disappeared. Sir Terrance motioned for me to take a
seat and he also entered another set of copper colored doors. Frank mumbled, “I wonder what they are
up to now? Probably getting dressed
to dissect me.” A moment later, the
Princess reappeared and motioned Frank over to her.
“Frank, I bet you could use a
restroom break. Come use this one
because there aren’t too many of them at the lab. Mostly robots here.”
Frank gave her a smile and
entered the bathroom. I stayed in
the living room and stood by the copper door. A minute later Frank came out of the
copper door. I could hear the sound
of a toilet cycling and a moment later Sir Terrance was back as well. I can only assume everyone needed to
take care of their organic waste tasks.
Such a waste of time.
Sir Terrance rubbed his hands
and said, “How about a tour of my secret lab?”
“Hold on, dearest, let’s have
something to eat. I’m starved,”
Princess said to her husband with a matter of fact tone.
“Yes, I suppose fuel is in
order” Lutts said.
“I swear he would starve to
death if I let him do what he wants to do,” fussed the Princess as she opened
the door and told the GAIC to order a lunch for three. She specified that she wanted champagne
as well as a dessert. No more than
two minutes later three GAICs came with trays and set a table with our
meals. It was efficient and
flawless as one would expect. The
meal was simple in many respects.
Fish soup made with reindeer milk.
An omelet made with spinach and reindeer sausage was the main course and
fresh Finnish rye bread with plenty of honey mustard butter. I heard Marianne say to Frank that she
likes to eat food that reflects where she is in the world. It kept her palate “primed” she
said.
Frank enjoyed the food. I don’t think he realized he was hungry
as Marianne had proclaimed to be.
After mostly chewing and ample tasting of the champagne conversation
slowly started up again.
“Sir Terrance, this is very
delicious. Human or robot
cooks?”
“Robotic.”
“How old is this
facility?”
“It took two years to build and
it has been operational two years.”
“Why the
secrecy?”
“You can thank Dr. Larson for
that. Five years ago she discovered
we had a spy leaking out technical data to a competitor. Since then we have divided research up
among our three labs. As you may
know I have one in New Mexico as well.
The New Mexico one is the smallest.
This is the largest.”
“Can you tell me what the latest
discovery is?”
“Yes, I can. My sister, as you may know from my
biography, had a troubled life. She
suffered from depression from the time she turned ten. That was the year my parents were
killed. Despite both medical and
psychological help for years she could not shake the crushing weight of
depression off her mind. I was so
oblivious to her suffering that I did not do anything for her other than to try
and be a loving brother. I did
worry about her, but my main energy was to finish my education. In that respect I failed her and that
has been eating at the back of my mind since she took her own
life.”
“I didn’t realize you were so
close to your sister.”
“In many ways we were not
close. She lived for spiritual
things and I did not. I found
religion foolish and so we often had arguments over that. In hindsight they were stupid
arguments. I mean I now realize
religion helped keep her alive.
Over the funeral we had had a doozy of an argument. I kept telling her that the parents were
not in heaven and she kept insisting they were. One week later she was
gone.”
“I’m sorry, dear.” Marianne said
softly, “I did not know.”
“Well, I try to wear my grief
not on my sleeve, but I did make it one of my goals to conquer depression so all
the other Annes would not have to feel the oppression of depression. Anyway, Mr. Huntington, it is at this
lab that the research came together for a cure for depression. Probably the best way to explain how we
have cured depression is to give you a tour of my largest laboratory. Let’s go back to the hallway and take
the electric cart. The facility is
way too large to walk,” Sir Terrance smiled and pointed towards the
door.
None of the GAICs followed
us. I was the only artificial
intelligence to go along. Sir
Terrance got in the front seat as did Frank. I sat in the back with the
Princess. Lutts told the vehicle to
head for Lab B-1. While the vehicle
was whizzing down halls left and right the good host talked about how difficult
depression has been for medical science to conquer.
“You see, Mr. Huntington, the
history of dealing with depression has been a sordid one. Not until the 20th Century
did medical science try and address therapies to cure depression. Freud used psychoanalysis
to cure depression with mixed results.
In fact, Freud himself suffered from depression throughout his life. During the 1930s the next fad was
electroconvulsive therapy which was extremely brutal in both side effects and
limited success. Not until the
middle 1950s did drugs come into play.
Again, the results were imperfect and eventually caused more harm for
many sufferers. What is interesting
is all three forms of therapies were used throughout most of the second half of
the 20th Century. Newer
drugs have become the norm during our times with only marginally better
results. More often than not it is
the passage of time that brings about relief rather than anything prescribed to
the patient. In short, it still was
very much a riddle that has not been solved. That riddle I have solved. My discovery ends depression – whether
it is depression caused by short term stresses or depression that seems to be
chronic and debilitating.”
“So
what causes it?”
“Like
all complex human illnesses it can be a combination of causes. It can be triggered by horrific life
events, it can be genetic and like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, and it
can be induced by viral infections.
The interplay of these causes can really send the brain into a tailspin
of depression. As in the case of my
poor sister, she cured herself with the only cure that works 100% of the time -
death.”
“Have
you discovered a way to diagnose what is the source of an individual’s type of
depression?”
“Unnecessary.”
“That
sounds implausible.”
“They
said the same thing about the cure for cancer. They kept counting all the different
trees in the forest and then would try and cure each unique version of
cancer. The forest of cancer would
still be here if I followed that same reasoning. I burned the forest. Cancer is no more. I will burn the forest of depression
now.”
Finally,
the vehicle pulled up to a double door that had a sign that read, ‘Lab B-1
Viewing Room’. We entered what
looked more like a long 500 foot-long hallway that had paintings of famous
scientists and small groupings of chairs and sofas on one side, and ceiling to
floor windows on the other side.
The floor by the windows was a moving walkway that by command could
either move to the left or right of the windows. We all stepped onto the walkway and
Lutts told it to move to the left and then he continued his little lecture on
depression.
“You
see, Mr. Huntington, I always aim for something that will work universally. I am not like those pharmaceutical
corporations that want to create medicines that just manage your symptoms while
leaving the disease intact. If you
look at the history of cancer treatments the rate of cure was an illusion. You would do their chemical treatments
(that often were combined with radiation) and the doctors after a year of
million dollar medical bills pronounced you cured. In five years or less 75% of those
patients would be back with a new cancer.
In some parts of the world they would give up because they were still
paying for their first round of cancer treatment. In others countries they don’t have to
pay a dime and they grit their teeth and carry on. In the United States they always have to
pay a big share of their treatment and if they want the best and newest they
find it is not covered and they have to pay for it all. This is the mess that millions of people
have to face in order for the medical industry to make
billions.”
By
then, the walkway had stopped and so had Sir Terrance’s lecture. We all looked at Sir Terrance waiting
for him to resume. Sir Terrance
looked out through the glass at the vast lab. All of a sudden I had the AI feeling
that he wasn’t with us. He looked
like he was inspecting all the equipment, counting the test tubes, Bunsen
burners, Petri dishes, and electron microscopes. I can’t guess what he was feeling. I don’t have emotions. One of the things that is hardest for
robots to understand about humans is the emotions that reinforce their
thoughts. Our programming gives us
a guide on how human emotions relate to decision making. It is probably one of the most complex
flow charts I have within my code.
I can understand 38 languages and can download any new language I need,
but reading human emotions correctly is only 96 percent correct. And when a human is silent like Sir
Terrance was it is very difficult, indeed, for me to understand what that
silence means.
Finally,
Sir Terrance turned towards Frank and said, “What do you see, Mr.
Huntington?”
“A
lab with a lot of equipment that I don’t have the foggiest idea what it is for,”
Frank said without a smile.
“What
I see are tools to create civilization, to find truth, and to end as much pain
as possible.”
“I
understand. I remember growing up
back in Minnesota. I was in third
grade and a girl who was in my class and rode on my bus got cancer. I remember how she suddenly
disappeared. A few months later she
came back to class totally bald.
She was a different person.
The sparkle in her eyes was gone.
Two weeks later she was gone again and I knew I would never see her
again. No one told me how serious
her cancer was, but I just knew she had given up. Just before school was over for the year
we were told she had died. I felt
anger. I was only ten years old,
but I felt her death was bullshit.
Later that night I cried.
Yes, I get pain.”
“I
can’t guess at the millions of hours of pain I have removed from the human
experience by getting rid of cancer.
Now I look forward to doing the same for all those who suffer from
depression.”
“So
how did you do it?”
“I
will reveal that as we look at the rest of the facility. Walkway, proceed to other end. Much of this lab is involved in original
research. When it came to
understanding how cells went about their business there was so much to do. And when I started work on the disease
of depression I realized there was just as much to understand when it came to
the workings of the human brain.
Over there, you see that large blue boxlike machine, Mr. Huntington, that
is a machine that allows human neural cells to live in situ to mimic how neural
networks interact in the human brain.
And over there …”
Sir Terrance went on to
point out that many of the devices his laboratory had to be invented in order to
understand the human brain to a level where the mechanism of depression was
comprehensive. We looked at three
more labs. One was mostly concerned
with neurology. Another laboratory
was molecular chemistry and the third laboratory was nanobiology. The third lab was the biggest. As we were moved by another moving
walkway I counted six supercomputers like the one we saw at Maidstone Labs. Two of them were controllers for fifty
deoxyribonucleic acid assemblers.
The most impressive device was a carbon nano packet manufacturing
assembly line that was fully automated.
It was operated by the sixth supercomputer in the nanobiology
lab.
“So we package the DNA necessary to rewire
the brain’s centers for depression and loop them back into the areas of the
brain responsible for positive feelings.
It leaves the subject's thoughts and memories intact. This is not brainwashing. Nor is the brain submitted to an endless
assault by drugs with crippling side effects. Nor is the brain subjected to surgery or
electroshock – both of which brutally maul the brain into what looks like a cure
but is not. I hope this does not
bore you, Mr. Huntington, I know we have been at this tour a long
time.”
“No, not at all. I always am impressed by science. I must admit my brain circuits are
overloaded with all the information you have given me. As usual, Sir Terrance, it is a tour de
force. I can’t imagine the
pharmaceutical companies are going to love you. Jack, how many billions of dollars is
the drug industry for depression?”
“It is 89 billion in the United States, 27
billion in the United Kingdom and 460 billion worldwide.”
“I’m surprised if they won’t put a price on
your head.”
“There have been threats on my life since I
made my cure for cancer available.
The doctors still need to diagnose the cancer, but I now cure it. Ask your JAIC to see what that did to
the cancer industry.”
“Jack, how much was being spent on cancer
before Sir Terrance cured it?”
“Worldwide it was a three trillion dollar
industry,” I immediately answered.
I could see the look of surprise on not only Frank’s face, but on the
Princess’s face as well.
Sir Terrance chuckled seeing their jaws
drop and said, “Lutts Industries makes less than three hundred million on our
cancer cure a year. I expect our
cure of depression will only generate eighty percent of that. Like with my cancer cure I am not out to
maximize my profits.”
“But this lab must have cost you more than
that?” Frank asked while rubbing his chin.
“True, but as you know my labs have done
research that have produced other income streams and they will continue to do so
in the future.”
“Dear, I am so proud of you. You make the Pope look like a piker with
all the good you do in the world.
No more children will die from cancer, ever! No more broken homes because a mother or
father dies from that horrid disease.
You should be the Pope,” she said as she came over to him and gave him a
kiss on the cheek.
“Well, maybe Savior would be more
appropriate,” quipped Frank.
“That is a good one, Mr. Huntington. I will have to remember that. Let’s get into my robo-cart and have
some champagne to celebrate the end of depression.”
We all took our seats and the cart took off
down halls and up the elevator to the same room where our tour had started. The GAICs already had the champagne iced
and tall fluted glasses ready for us along with an assortment of desserts. It looked all very
colorful.
Frank looked at the desserts and asked if
they glowed in the dark like Lutts’s ice cream.
“Sorry, Mr. Huntington, they do
not. That is a good idea,
though. I will have to give that
some thought. You wouldn’t need
candles if the birthday cake glowed all by itself,” Lutts said thinking out loud
at the possibilities.
The talk was pretty light as they finished
the first bottle quickly and then started on a second bottle. Mostly they talked about how many
industries had come and gone over the last two hundred years. First was the self employed artisan who
saw his trade taken over by steam driven factories. Millions of people must have lost their
jobs when horses were replaced by automobiles. At least in the case of automobiles an
even greater number of jobs were created.
You needed more miners for the iron, rubber plantations, the rise of oil,
as well as someone to plow snow off the freeways. Computers in the 20th Century
took over millions of office jobs.
And now at the close of the 21st Century every industry was
impacted by robotics.
Frank put down his empty glass on the table
and said in a very matter of fact way, “You realize if you keep this up all the
doctors will be out of business.”
“Is that a bad thing? My vision someday is to cure aging. You heard last week that the great opera
singer Toystoyski died. Of course,
it has been more than a decade since he performed publicly. His voice was shot from old age. What a waste of such a gift. All those years of study destroyed
because his DNA is programmed to turn his hair gray, his skin as thin as paper
and his voice gruff and shaky. It
is almost as great a sin as allowing a beautiful woman to become an old
crone.”
“Will you miss my youthful body, Terrance?”
the Princess said with a look of mockery in her eyes.
“Yes, I would, but I hope you will be my
inspiration to reverse aging, my love,” Lutts said while picking up her hand and
giving it a squeeze.
“That would be nice, dear. Then you would not have to listen to me
complain about my aches and pains.
That is all I hear from my mother these days.”
“Sir Terrance, you realize that would end
more pain than both your cure for cancer and depression. You’ll have more than just the doctors
wanting you dead.”
“Before I am done, there will be many who
will want me dead, if they knew the future,” Lutts said with a slight smile
while his eyes looked as if they were looking into the future rather than what
was in front of him. Frank was
quiet and assumed the same look as Lutts.
This only lasted a moment, by human time, but my AI suggested that Frank
must have had a new idea. An idea
that was not a happy one.
“Sir Terrance, do you ever think about what
a game changer you are?” Frank asked suddenly.
“I do. Sometimes I think about what Robert
Oppenheimer said after he created the nuclear bomb, ‘I am become death, the
destroyer of worlds.’” mused Lutts.
“Dear,
you have become life, the destroyer of pain. Don’t depress yourself, you have nothing
to be ashamed of,” said the Princess, bringing her husband a fresh glass of
champagne.
“Perhaps
I am both,” mused Lutts, “Perhaps I am both life and death. Life will never be the same, that is for
sure.”
Frank
had the look again. I could not
surmise the meaning. I know he must
have some kind of new idea taking shape in his brain. Most people who have had one too many
drinks don’t think straight. In
Frank’s case I think he often comes up with some of his best ideas. I wonder if it was an idea for a new
article?
Frank
got up and made his way to the bar and asked Lutts’s GAIC bartender if it had
any Jack Daniels.
“Yes,
sir, I do.”
“Give
me a double. Suddenly it feels hot
in here.”
Marianne
looked happy with the world and suggested, “Maybe we should go up and take a
walk.”
“I’ll
stick with a cool drink. It must be
below zero up there,” Frank said as he came back to sit down. “Tell me” Frank asked once he was
comfortable, “Could your nanobots be used to change ideas in someone’s
head?”
Lutts
gave Frank an odd look, but then a soft smile came across his face, “No, Mr.
Huntington, it can’t. It can’t
change anyone’s ideas. Whatever
caused a person to be depressed, be it betrayal, a death, or whatever, those
memories are still there. It can’t
erase anything in a brain.”
“Then
how does it work?”
“Let
me give you an example. Let’s say I
told you the moon was made of cheese.
Now your brain is complex.
There would be a few cells that would accept the idea of a cheesy moon
and there will be a few cells that know the moon is made of rocks and dust. What my nano device does is make sure
the cells that think the moon is cheddar is the dominate [dominant] neural pathway. In a depressed person there already
exist weak neural pathways that would be considered coping with whatever
depresses a person or causes the emotion of depression to be prominent. By tweaking the weak pathway and
weakening the other, the depression is ended. It is very possible that a person who
has suffered depression after my treatment would not be able to say why they
feel happy because they still see why they should be
unhappy.”
“That
makes sense,” Frank said and then took a sip of his drink, “it is all very clear
to me. So, Sir Terrance, when are
you going to roll out this new cure?”
“Next
week. So please hold off until I
have my big press announcement in London on Friday. I would love to have you come out with a
big article about your visit here.
I think the public will find it fascinating how we went about finding a
cure.”
“So
the cure will be available immediately after the press announcement?” asked
Frank.
“No,
I will tell them that it will be available at our cancer treatment clinics the
first of the month.”
“How
much will you charge?”
“Good
question. The price will be
$1000.00 for those with medical insurance and $10.00 for those who don’t. We will lose money on those who
don’t. I figure I have spent over
200 million pounds setting up this lab as well as parsed out work at the other
two laboratories to complete this project.
As I have always stated I don’t worry about money. It is not my
motivation.”
“No,
I think you have made that very clear to the world,” Frank said slowly while he
put his glass down.
“I
detect mixed feelings from you Mr. Huntington. I hope you will not write anything that
will damage the roll-out of this new boon to mankind. It would make me very unhappy. Marianne has assured me you would be
supportive.”
“Sir
Terrance, you can count on me. This
is all a remarkable story. I
apologize not being all enthusiasm, but I have been on too many jets lately and
I am rather worn out.”
“Terrance,
dear, let’s let Mr. Huntington get some rest. He can fly out tomorrow
morning.”
“No,
really, that is thoughtful Princess, but if possible I would love to fly back to
London as soon as possible,” Frank said getting up like he needed to leave
immediately for a flight.
“No
problem, Mr. Huntington. I will
arrange our T-80 to take you back immediately. Maybe you can sleep on the
plane?”
“Maybe
I should go back with Mr. Huntington, dear. I would like to order some new dresses
in London. I expect I will have to
do my share of dealing with the press.”
“No,
I need you here, my dear. We will
fly back to London tomorrow evening.”
The
Princess looked a little disappointed, but maybe that was just a show for
Frank. One of Lutts’s GAICs came up
and said the plane was ready. Frank
thanked both Sir Terrance and the Princess for an interesting tour and then
followed the GAIC to the robotic vehicle which took us back to the cold hangar
where the T-80 was waiting for us.
Within fifteen minutes we were airborne.
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