Join (35 page)

Hamish's steady gaze takes in
both Leap One and Chance Four. The three of them are sitting in one of the many chambers that the Arcadians have carved out of the Earth's mantle. Most of the rooms are meant as places for informal conversation. They're painted in bright colors and filled with soft, comfortable furniture. This is one of a small minority that's painted off-white everywhere, even on the cement floor. It's also filled with severe, welded furniture and is lit by glow strips, which cast light in every direction, canceling shadows. Chance prefers these areas, which incline toward clarity over comfort. Leap says it's a false choice, that comfort encourages clarity. Chance still prefers these areas.

As he speaks, Hamish is leaning forward from one of the angular metal chairs that forms their small triangle of chairs in one corner of the room.

“To create a flip,” he says, “as you know, one of the individuals in a join changes their mind completely, decides they will not join—not just that they don't want to but that they will not, under any circumstances, join. And this happens at a critical moment.

“So why does this happen?” Hamish's voice takes on a slightly professorial tone, as if long explanations come naturally to him and he believes it's important that they not be hurried. “Well, we don't fully understand the quantum network that makes a join possible, but we think of the network connection as happening progressively over seven layers.

“The caduceus, the physical interface with the mind, is the first layer. The subject's conviction state, their commitment to the join, is the second. An interesting thing to note is that while we may consider convictions flexible, during a join, a participant's
conviction state
is binary and absolute. It may be worth noting that possessing the required conviction state appears to be a uniquely human attribute.

“Together, these first two layers create the possibility of a quantum gate. The word “gate” is only a metaphor, and in some respects is very deceptive. We might say instead that an identity is realized, but the gate metaphor will be of use later.

“The third layer is a required similarity in the physical structure of the connecting brains. Because only humans have joined, the third layer is largely hypothetical, although there is some evidence to suggest it exists. For example, there have been mental injuries that we believe prevented a join at this layer.

“The fourth layer is developmental similarity. Two brains may be physically compatible initially, but over time they may develop so differently that a join between them is no longer likely. The fifth layer is compatibility. This is where you see failure due to cultural or linguistic incompatibility. Compatibility at the fifth layer, in particular, is very difficult to predict. Differences that seem substantial to outward appearances may be negligible in practice. Or the reverse may be true. Failure at the fourth or fifth layer is rare and suggests that the individuals simply don't understand each other. Not that they can't, but that they don't right now. After integration at the fifth layer, a large amount of information is exchanged.

“Which establishes the possibility for integration at the sixth layer. The sixth layer of the join is values compatibility. Failure happens here when individuals have incompatible values. Human beings are generally compatible at the level of fundamental values, but there can be critical differences, and people often learn to hide their true values, even from themselves. If the sixth layer does integrate, however, then information flows freely.

“The seventh and final layer of integration happens in response to the free flow of information. Some consider the seventh layer simply an extension of the sixth, but whereas failure during the sixth layer is safe, failure during the seventh can be catastrophic. A symmetric failure, where both sides change conviction state, is typically harmless. It's also very rare. What's even more rare, though, is an asymmetric failure, what we call a flip. Only one individual's conviction state changes.

“The classic case is an elderly person joining to avoid dying. On confronting the reality of Join, they are repelled by the prospect of complete integration with another individual. But this is not the only type of case.

“Now, in a healthy join, we believe that two minds use the caduceus to create a reality in which a quantum gate is opened, and information passes through that gate, if you will. In a flip, many of us believe the gate oscillates—although there is vigorous debate around its relationship with time—between a reality in which it is open and one in which it literally does not exist, and the join has failed.

“One obstacle in treating a flip is that we cannot adequately model the full, observable effects of the caduceus at a quantum level. For example, a healthy join of four sustains four open quantum gates, one for each active drive. If a drive dies, a gate closes. But if three of the four drives die, a single gate remains open. This final gate, as I'm sure you're both aware, is one of the deepest mysteries of join science.

“Though our instrumentation says the final gate is open, that gate no longer spans minds. So what keeps the gate open? To what is it connecting? Some believe the caduceus connects to the
possibility
of a join.” Hamish allows himself a rare moment of unmodulated enthusiasm as he says, “
That
is a
mystery
.” He pauses to let the others consider what he's said before continuing.

“We cannot simply remove the caduceus. After it has been used in a join, removal of a caduceus will kill the host. Fortunately, we don't have to address the mysteries of Join in order to treat Leap. Instead, we focus on another curiosity. Once a flip is introduced to a network, you may euthanize all but one drive, but you never close the oscillating gate that is the source of the pathology. In a flip, the final gate is always the oscillating gate. So by euthanizing all but one drive, we can isolate and address the oscillating gate.

“I have had one success. A few years ago, I introduced a slight modification to an active caduceus and created what I think of as a complementary gate. It exists beside the flipped gate and is also both open and closed, but it does not move information. The coexistence of the flipped gate and the complementary gate appeared to resolve the flip.”

Chance says slowly, “So far, gates have been unmanaged and fully open.”

“Yes,” agrees Hamish.

“You're combining an open and a closed gate.”

“Yes.”

“If they coexisted, could they be used to influence the flow of information?”

“Perhaps. The language we're using is very simple. The reality is not so simple.”

“So that's how you get to a subnet,” Chance says finally.

“Yes, that may be,” Hamish says. “The Directorate believes that a complementary gate may be a key to understanding a so-called subnet join. A subnet would be a cluster of fewer than twenty drives, coordinated by a single mind. Each subnet would connect to the larger network through this different sort of gate.

“Many other questions would need to be answered, but I think we know enough about the nature of join to entertain this possibility.”

Leap says slowly, “Excellence said that they're reducing licensing fees.”

Hamish looks at Leap with undisguised surprise, as if Leap has just calmly plucked a bird from the air between them. “Why, yes, he did. I also connected that with my research on the complementary gate. I'm impressed that you put it together.”

“I'm not sure I'm following,” says Chance.

“What I think we're saying,” Leap says, “is that they're reducing fees to encourage more joins, potentially because of this. Because they're preparing for the single network, the hive mind.”

“‘Hive mind' is an emotionally loaded metaphor,” Hamish says. “The root issue is change. Why should we assume that what we believe to be fundamental about us is immune to change? What else in the universe is? And if the things we think of as fundamental to our essence are the things driving us toward our destruction, perhaps we should remain open to the possibility of changing them.”

“But that is what you're saying, isn't it?” insists Leap. “That the reduced licensing fees are a way to move people toward accepting this goal.”

“Of course, I don't know,” Hamish says. “I drew that inference from our conversation with Excellence. And I do believe that it, Excellence, expected me to draw that inference when it talked about licensing.”

Chance asks, “Why didn't he just come out and say it?”

“For Excellence, whose speech and actions can have far-reaching impact, implication is often the same as saying it. Certainly, the idea of a single vast mind connecting all of humanity would be more palatable to those among the populace who have already experienced join.”

“And you want the Directorate to have that knowledge?” asks Leap.

“If it is possible to have it,” says Hamish, “they will have it eventually, whether I help them acquire it or not.” He sounds even more cautious than usual. “They know I've been successful with the complementary gate, so they know it's possible. They know what my interests are, my areas of expertise. The question for me is not whether I want them to have the knowledge; it's whether I want to be a part of their acquiring the knowledge. But I choose not to answer that question.

“I am interested in the knowledge for its own sake. I believe there is a universal, underlying principle that drives progressive discovery. I believe, without question, that science is actually in my very nature.” He is watching Leap intently as he says, “As for this situation, what I want is peer review.” He pauses and straightens in his chair, looking at each of them individually. “So the real question is for you,” he says, “now that you are aware of the broader implications. Do you want to complete your join here, with us, or there, with them?”

The question lands in Chance's mind like a flash of light. Neither she nor Leap can find anything to say in response.

“You don't have to decide now,” Hamish says. He glances at Chance and then turns to Leap. “And I don't know whether it will influence your decision, but you still need to find another individual willing to join.”

“Okay,” says Leap.

“Your treatment has three stages,” Hamish continues. “First, we have to euthanize all but one of your drives. I'm very sorry. The choice of which drive survives will not affect the outcome. That is your choice.

“When you have only one active drive, I will make the required alteration to that drive's caduceus. This is a very delicate surgical procedure, but I have everything I need here, and I am very capable of it. After the caduceus has been modified, however, it must be used in a join. I believe that that has to happen within two weeks of the alteration of the caduceus, but the sooner it happens, the greater the likelihood of success.”

The hotel in Barcelona is
old-style, simple elegance: weathered dark wooden furniture, hand smoothed from many decades of wear, oiled and rubbed to a high shine.

Chance Two has essentially been vacationing, and she has been a source of much-needed cycles as events developed in Arcadia. There's no hurry to return; no need to be back at work. Chance will stay at the hotel for as long as possible.

A yellow comforter is massed at the foot of the bed. Initially, the bed felt refreshing—a perfect fit the first night; but now it's starting to feel weak in the middle, as if the mattress is well past its best days. Chance Two had a slight lower backache this morning, which she worked out with a long walk and strong coffee. Now she's sitting at the modestly sized, dark mahogany desk, looking out the window at a handful of pigeons who are huddling on the rail of her fourth-floor terrace. One of them steps off the rail and falls out of sight.

The display that she has unfolded on the desktop in front of her shows images of the El Coahuilón Mountains. She started with the spire city Cordial before the storm. It was a new development, begun only thirty years ago with what were eventually classified as short spires. Five years later, during what has been called the first moment of true join architecture, the early spires went up.

Like many buildings of the period, the early spires emphasized long, cylindrical forms, but they were also varied, playful. Braided spires of multiple cylinders rose to an anemonelike crest. Spires that undulated horizontally before rising vertically. Spires the color of sunlight and moonlight, spires with the rich and varied green finish of kelp or that began in broad bulbs like bull kelp. The full effect, realized perhaps fifteen years after those first spires—and which Cordial became known for—was of a tangled underwater forest growing in clumps on the dry slopes of a low mountain range. Few spire communities emulated it. It was considered over the top, garish, to some, but also acknowledged as a showcase of architectural possibility.