Covet Not (44 page)

Entropy

Book
One of Into the
Æther

LXXXV

“Not today, Ra
phe
.
His body's not even cold.”

“I’m not a
fucking monster, Sophia,” Raphe whispered back. “But look at her. She’s
beautiful. She looks so much like her mother.”

“Her
mother is Agatha, Raphe,” Sophia whispered back. She regretted bringing Raphe
even though he promised to be good.

“Christ,
you are being such a bitch. I have no desire to upend her life. I just wanted
to see her. It’s a funeral, for fuck’s sake.” Raphe straightened his tie and
tried not to scowl. He tried not to make his daughter uncomfortable.

LXXXVI

Josephine Hildegard wasn't
sure if sand could actually be this fine. It had the consistency and softness
of baby powder, and nearly the same color. Still, the olfactory hallucination
was a little startling. She had no children, so it must have been from when she
was very young.

Apparently
memories could hide and revisit without any control short of a lobotomy. That
was alarming. This was a safe place. And even in this place, she could remember
something she hadn't realized she'd forgotten.

But it was
the reason she was here. She wanted to find those elusive tendrils of her life
that beckoned her when she was asleep. Those memories just beyond her grasp.
She knew they must be real. They had no other reason to hide except to protect
her.

Because most
of her dreams were lies.

She
understood that dreaming was unreliable, but she'd always woken with the
feeling of unease and confusion. Josephine knew she was adopted, but she was
placed with her family when she was a newborn, so she shouldn't yearn for some
unnamed impossible thing.

She wouldn't
dwell. She wouldn't change the scene. It was exactly how she'd pictured it.

But she would
take note of it for the doctors.

Josephine saw
the information for the medical trial when reading the news on the Æther
network. She always looked for positions in Boston that she could qualify for,
even though she knew it was impractical. It's not like she lived very far, but
she loved the city. Nobody knew her. Nobody shared false concern that she was
named for a woman who died right after birthing her. There was no pitying looks
for the lonely woman who lived alone.

She thought
it morbid. She asked her mother, Agatha, why she was named for her biological
mother, and was told it was a last request of sorts, and she wanted to respect
that. Her new parents thought Josephine Grace suited her, so it was easy to
keep it. Agatha didn't have any information on her biological father, nor would
she ever disclose Josephine's birthplace for fear of unknown factors. It was
always inferred that there was something sinister involved, but Agatha denied
knowing anything. She claimed she'd heard horror stories of biological families
of the adoptees creating unnecessary strife, but Josephine had never witnessed
that. She'd seen plenty of strife among families without adopted children. She
tried to find a paper trail, but in the end there was nothing. Her mother took
that information to the grave.

Josephine was
a woman of simple means. She taught elementary school in a stagnant middle
class neighborhood in Ipswich, Massachusetts, and didn't have a husband or
children to keep her company. Not that she cared for either.

Towns like
Ipswich were very fortunate. They were close enough to the city to provide for
the wealthy when they wanted a weekend away, but too far for the poor to try to
make roots. They were prisoners of the city, and slaves to a consumer based
economy.

In towns such
as Ipswich, it was the same as it had been for hundreds of years. The middle
class was still on life support, and as long as they still provided beauty,
serenity, and history, the rich would continue to flock there on weekends.

An occupation
in education allowed her a modicum of pitying respect from the weekenders,
though she only disclosed such information when asked which Bed and Breakfast
or seaside inn she owned.

Except
Josephine had money and a home big enough for a Bed and Breakfast. She wasn't
interested in allowing strangers into her home. After her father died, her
mother withdrew from the public, and Josephine needed a hobby that didn't
involve her staying home. She decided to teach. She would be able to stay
close, yet still have a semblance of life.

She enjoyed
the weekend market when the choice produce, meats, and dairy were available,
and that's how she met a variety of New England's wealthiest. They seemed in
awe of the quaintness of these coastal towns.

From Lubec,
Maine, all the way down to Rockport, Massachusetts, the coast line was full to
bursting of Bostonians and New Yorkers who kept the economy from falling under.
Some years, it was difficult. Harsh winters kept them away, so summer profits
needed saving.

It was
Josephine's understanding that it was widespread, and she felt sorry for the
small towns across the country that couldn't provide anything for the wealthy.
Small manufacturers never lasted, unless bought and gutted by a big city
entrepreneur, but even then, the earnings weren't something that would feed and
house a family for more than a few years.

The rich
provided. It was a benevolent tyranny. But it was tyranny all the same. It was
cannibalism, and it was a hole so deep that even those who held the power
wouldn't be able to fix it without the collapse of the entire economic
infrastructure.

Because when
old money and greed went up against affluence and philanthropy, it made for
messy elections and pigeon holes that could break a nation apart.

And it had.
Nearly three-hundred years ago, Texas had taken its ball and went home in the
most severe way. A few other states tried to follow, but had failed, and it
devastated their local economies. As far as Josephine understood, there were
wastelands of the underprivileged all across their once prosperous country.
From the outside, all that was seen was affluent coastal cities and a nation
who coveted green. 

Josephine
taught social studies to third graders, and it took effort to present things as
less bleak. Because there was a small chance. If you were smart. If you were
savvy. If you had something they wanted. If one of these lucrative corporations
had an opening, the competition would be improbably steep.

It was a
dream for many, but Josephine didn't care. She knew she was fortunate to teach
the children of Ipswich. She remained ignorant to the world at large because
she didn't want to sentence her students to a life they could never have, nor a
life of misery for those children especially sensitive and empathetic to
everyone around them. She wasn't a revolutionary simply because she felt she
wasn't smart enough. She believed that convictions were nothing if you were
ignorant.

Most of the
time she enjoyed her mundane life, but the hole of depression was vast and
difficult to crawl out of. She missed Agatha. She missed Anton.

Her mother
died a year ago, narcotics overdose, and her father died of a malignant brain
tumor a decade before when she was a Freshman in high school. She had no
siblings that she knew of, and sometimes her loneliness crippled her.

She had no
one. No one at all. She knew her mother would hate it, but her curiosity had
gotten the better of her. She called Æther and set up an appointment.

The medical
trial was entitled 'The Science of Sleep'. She didn't understand a lot of the
terminology, but 'lucid dreaming' was listed as one of the mysteries they
wanted to explore.

She had no
way of finding anything about who she was, or who her namesake was, but she
believed that she had clues hidden and she wanted to find them.

She didn't
believe she had actual memories of her biological mother. Even that had to be
an impossibility. She wanted to remember the many conversations she overheard
when her parents didn't know she was listening. She can remember tones and
inflections, but not content. She wanted to hear it as an adult.

Most of all,
she wanted to know where she was born, and why she was hidden from her father.
She wanted to know more about her biological family, but she didn't necessarily
want them in her life. She would be content just knowing they existed.

She was
chosen by Æther for eight weekend studies. She would receive $50,000. The first
weekend was a physical and all manner of invasive questions, medical and
psychological.

They didn't
ask her a series of questions about her mental health, but only a single, “Do
you or anyone in your family suffer from Depression?” They didn't notice her
hesitation, and if they did, they probably assumed it was because she disclosed
that she was adopted.

She didn't
know for certain if she was clinically depressed anyway. She wasn't suicidal,
but she felt her life was pointless. She was apathetic rather than angry, and
she wondered if it was a progression. Certainly, if it was a progression, anger
would come right after denial.

She got a
call back. She was now into her second weekend, and she was meant to create a
detailed, relaxing scenario and a doctor would inject synthetic
neurotransmitters into her brain that would encourage lucid dreaming. Stimuli
would be added to create different outcomes, all while the dreamer stayed in
control.

They also
wanted to encourage natural dreaming as well, and study the differences between
the two, but the purpose of the trial wasn't shared. Josephine could speculate,
but she didn't care. She just hoped she would find the answers she sought.

LXXXVII

The science of dreams was a
bit of an obsession for Dr. Tesla Sorelle, much to his parent’s dismay. He had
a full ride to MIT, and a PhD in Neuroscience, but once he got his degree, he
and a few friends had a completely mad idea.

Sure, his
parents were fine with Neuroscience. They were even fine with Cognitive
Sciences, as three out of five people were on the Autism spectrum, and two out
of three people on the spectrum had other varying issues from cognitive to
physiological.  It was interesting to study. It still wasn't an exact science,
but it seemed humans were evolving while bombarded by stimuli on a constant
basis.

Tesla
believed there was knowledge hidden in dreaming, not that he cared about the
content of the dreams, but he cared very much about the why of it.

It fascinated
Tesla that the limbic system, which controlled emotions, was fully functional
while asleep, yet the rational portion of your brain, the dorsolateral
prefrontal cortex, was not. It didn't make any sense.

His parents
believed it wasn't important, and they hoped it was merely a hobby. Both were
scientists who ran an independent peer review journal, but they had started out
as chemists. Medicine had always been very important to them, and they felt
their son was delving into pseudoscience.

Tesla was one
of the chief researchers at Æther Institute. It was his job to convince those
on the board that he and his team's research would lead to money, but that it
would also be groundbreaking.

Æther had
stock in pharmaceuticals, energy, and technology. They were the company a
hundred years ago that made wireless Internet available to everyone, thereby
rendering companies who sold Internet access obsolete. Telephone lines became
something antiquated as well and wireless phone services were available through
the æther.

There was
definite backlash, and several lawsuits, but Æther rallied the people. The
Internet was as necessary as oxygen. Nobody could ever own the æther, so it
seemed unethical to charge for a vast consortium of knowledge. After all, they
had satellites all around the planet, rent free. Sure, it cost to build them
and to launch them, but they were trying to ignite a new space race. It failed,
but free Internet for all seemed a nice enough consolation, along with changing
the world's perceptions on the price of knowledge. Everyone could have a slice
of infinity, and with Æther, even hard drives became a thing of the past. The
æther was everything.

With the
Internet free for everyone, companies had to get creative. Entertainment still
came with a cost. Domains were free, but there were new businesses cropping up
to help ease the way for those putting their livelihoods online. Taxes still
applied for income on goods sold, and aggressive taxation became the norm.

  Æther was a
way of life now, and there was no company on the planet that rivaled it. There
were opportunities for them to expand and take over the retail of electronics
and automobiles, but instead, they shared newer technology to whomever desired
it. While it was trademarked, they allowed commercial use, and they enjoyed
watching the creativity of those who had taken them up on their offers.

They hoped
desperately the States would take up the torch, and reignite their own local
economies. Æther Institute had laid the groundwork, enabling everyone to
benefit.

Innovation
led to success, and the reason they still prospered was their courage of
redefining capitalism. Science was largely ignored hundreds of years ago when
the oil companies denied climate change.  Æther invested very early on for what
was then alternative energy. They first invested in refineries, but looking at
projections, it would be a foolish venture. Oil would eventually be too cost
prohibitive, but they couldn't just take their meager earnings and leave it to
the oil companies. Æther Institute did their research and spoke to the same
scientists who were accused of falsifying data, along with peer reviewed
studies. Big Oil accused the scientists of trying to make quick cash off the
gullibility of the American people, but were promptly reminded of all the
different brands of bottled water available, and that it wasn't scientists
selling it. They were reverse-osmosing their own water straight from the tap.
Top climate scientists explained to Big Oil that at the very heart of it,
Capitalism was meant to blur needs and wants, and all they wanted was to bring
more efficient energy to the masses. Æther jumped at the chance, but Big Oil,
stubborn as ever, jumped ship to Texas. And while satellite imagery was
forbidden by treaty on the Web, it didn't mean that Æther didn't have access to
it. The country was littered with pump jacks, and there wasn't an ocean view
from land that didn't include oil platforms. Many had grown into small living
spaces there on the water. There were shops and apartment complexes for the rig
workers and their families.

The wildlife
was all but destroyed, and the States that were east of Texas all built an
artificial reef hoping to salvage sea life and wetlands, and it could be seen
from space.

Houston was a
veritable ghost town except for oil workers. It was a graveyard of steel and
concrete. Port Houston was full of tankers and refineries.

It was
difficult to see Houston via satellite some days because of the pollution.

To Æther,
that was the only proof required. Texas would one day run out of land and
ocean, and Æther didn't want the States to get close to that point.

Æther would
remain innovative and generous.

Generosity
bought loyalty. The Æther network came default on most computers, tablets, and
mobile phones. They were particular about ad space, so only reputable and
ethical businesses were sold a space on the coveted network.

Ethics were
very important to Æther, and they had an entire department dedicated to making
sure their name wouldn't get tarnished by association.

Tesla was
able to convince the board with ease. It would be new research. He'd convinced
the board that if he were successful, they would lead the way to dream therapy.

Pharmaceuticals
brought Æther the most money, but this would be such an excogitation, it would
revolutionize the country the same way alternative energy had once Big Oil had
left.

  Æther was
on board and gave Tesla carte blanche to do what needed to be done. At thirty,
his credentials were unmatched.

Past research
had indicated several speculations on dreams, from complete randomness that our
logical brain at awakening tried to piece together, to evolutionary impulses
that help attune our fight or flight response. Nothing had even been slated as
definitive.

Tesla and his
team created a way to input stimulus through synthetic neurotransmitters which
allowed parts of your brain to be susceptible to suggestion while dreaming.

They put out
an ad in the Æther Portal and were bombarded with applications through their
online form. The compensation wasn't specific, but it was an easy way to
collect money on the weekend, so many people decided to try for it.

Thinking
back, Tesla's vision turned an impossible green at the amount of applications
he had to shelve. He had plans to let his team go through it, but they teased
him about his various other senses. Since this project was his baby, they were
happy to go with the applications he put aside.