20. Project Beatrice
Dr. Dacron's 105th floor office was rather small for a man who was prolly more powerful than the governor of CenFlo, thought Ransom. He sat down in a chair that appeared to be made out of a single piece of glass.
"The furniture in my office was a gift from the president of Nippon Fullerene. Each piece is made of diamond, nano-compiled, assembled in their factories atom by atom. Thirty years ago, that chair you are sitting on could have been cut into individual stones and sold for hundreds of millions of dollars, which was a lot of money back then."
"It isn't very comfortable."
The doctor ignored him. "Now then, where was I... The Seventh Day Wellness Corporation. Our business is health. We own eighty-five percent of all the hospitals in the world, ninety-five percent in the United States. Ninety-eight percent of all doctors in the world have been contracted by our company at one time or another."
"Doc, I heard all of this during orientation, when I was hired."
"Let me finish. Now earlier you accused Seventh Day of raiding the Adventist coffers. But we just don't manage hospitals. We also fund innovative research. Our corporation owns the patents on many new technologies. We lead the world in therapeutic cellular treatments derived from adult stem cell technology. Our donor cell banks are the largest in the United States. We are the field of cytology, along with United Cell and Clone in China."
"UC&C owns about three fourths of the cytology field." said Ransom. "And they own most of the hospitals and health care facilities that you don't own."
"Yes, they are our biggest competitor. At one time, UC&C had no competitor. Their dominance of the cellular therapy field was unquestioned. But we, as Christians, could not accept their dependence on embryonic stem cells. We went in another direction and poured our efforts into adult stem cell technology. We revolutionized the industry. We showed that healing can come from a person's own body. We made adult stem cell therapy a viable option for our patients. The people responded and made the cytology department of Seventh Day number two, and soon to be number one in the world."
"You guys did that by convincing people that UC&C profits from abortion, and that buying stem cells from them, and not you, is like buying a one way ticket to Hell." said Ransom.
The Doctor ignored him and went on. "Not only did we innovate the field of cytology. We've also thrown our hat into the world of genetic engineering and have been successful there too. We own the patents on many strains of genetically modified food crops and agricueticals. Sanitas Foods is the worlds largest producer of health foods and a subsidiary of Seventh Day. Part of the reason they dominate the health food industry is because through genetic modification, they have made healthy foods even healthier. Seventh Day owns the patent on the most popular breed of GMO livestock ever invented, the Endorphinated Milk cow breed, which I'm sure you've used. The milk from these cows contains a natural narcotic which can be used for medicinal purposes, or diluted with regular milk and drunk casually."
"These are just more example of how your company pushes its religion on people." said Ransom.
"What now?" asked Dr Dacron.
"Well, as I understand, people used to be afraid of food that came from a GMO. They considered genetic modification to be synonymous with, poisoned. They wouldn't listen to the godless secular scientists who said that GMO's go through rigorous testing before they are allowed to be sold to the public. But you guys told the public that it was okay to tinker with the genetic code of plants and animals. In fact, God decreed that right when he gave us dominion over the earth. Once again, the religion that says, blessed are the poor, turns out to be very profitable indeed."
The doctor shook his head. "The Christian Church has no greater enemy than its own ex-faithful. But I'm not finished yet. Do you know why we've been discussing world corporate politics?"
"I thought we were killing time."
"No, Mr Archer. It is because I want you to understand the nature of the beast. Global corporate consolidation has been a long process. At the turn of the century, only five corporations controlled practically all of the world's media. Now, only ten corporations control ninety percent of all private business and industry. Ten companies, seven American, one European, one Japanese, and one Chinese. However, the Big Ten are so globally widespread that matters of nationality hardly matter anymore. Corporate rule has created a world without borders. The dream of The United Nations has been realized. That is, if the United Nations still existed.
"When I was your age, Mr Archer, politicians would feign disinterest or hostility towards corporate interests. But now, such posturing is virtually non-existent. Corporate lobbies and special interests are what determine elections now. And most politicians freely admit the mantra of modern government. What's good for General Motors is good for America."
"General Motors?" asked Ransom
"Oh, sorry. Now it's World Motors, isn't it. They bought out GM in 2014. Anyway, for the past thirteen years, the better part of you life, Mr Archer, world corporate power has been static in the hands of the Big Ten. You probably think things are going to stay that way. But you'd be wrong.
"Now, of the Big Ten corporations, only one is Christian. Only one is not for profit. Only one will consider business in no other way except as to how it can glorify God. Only one gives at least ten percent of all its profits to corporate sponsored welfare, faith-based initiatives of all faiths, and non-faith based initiatives. Only one framed it's corporate mission statement in the form of a prayer." Doctor Dacron pointed at Ransom.
"Gee... Seventh Day Wellness?"
"Change is coming, Mr Archer. The Big Ten are so interconnected that if one suffers, all will suffer. Fuzion Energy, Eurospace, and World Motors have so many business alliances that one could convincingly argue that they are only one company. Sometime in the future, soon, global corporate consolidation will take its final step."
Ransom looked suspiciously, "One world omni-corporation."
"Correct. And there is much doubt as to what kind of influence Seventh Day will play in the New World Order. Of course, Health care will always be necessary. There will always be need for hospitals. But there is one corporation that could possibly take our place and absorb our organization."
"The Chinese." said Ransom.
"Well, yes. United Cell and Clone. Now don't get me wrong. There are many American employees at UC&C. And there are many more Chinese who work for us. But yes, the Chinese pose a great threat to us. They were none too happy when we took a large chunk of the stem cell industry away from them. They have had it out for us ever since. Last year, we were forced to sell five hospitals on the Indo-pakistan continent. And guess who jumped up to buy them. UC&C. The bottom line is, Seventh Day is in trouble. We are steadily losing money. Financial experts predict that at this rate, we will be the smallest of the Big Ten within a year. And the prevailing opinion among our leadership is that we need to expand our cytology department if we want to stay competitive. What we need is Beatrice."
"Project Beatrice?" asked Ransom.
"You've heard of it?"
"I once overheard a couple doctors mention it at the hospital in Baseball. They didn't really say anything about it."
"We are hoping that Beatrice will revolutionize medicine. But it disturbs me that you've heard of it. That just shows that our security heads are not paranoid. Hmmm." The doctor stood up and paced the room. "We are limited by the fact that our cell banks and our cellular therapies rely solely on adult stem cells, while UC&C uses both kinds of stem cells, but relies mostly on the embryonic type."
"So why not start using embryonic stem cells like UC&C?" asked Ransom.
"Absolutely out of the question. Seventh Day will not profiteer from abortion." The doctor walked to the window behind his desk. "Like the view?"
"Yes. I could see my house from here, if we were facing the other direction."
"It's smart-glass." The doctor cocked his head to the side. "Server, retrieve picture file, abomination one."
The window turned opaque for a moment. The office went dark until it was lit up by a picture that made Ransom want to vomit. He'd seen it before. The picture was famous. It had been all over the Net. No one didn't think it wasn't totally revolting. In the picture, it was a large white rat with obvious deformities. It had five legs. One of the legs was bigger than the others. It was pink and hairless. It didn't have claws. Instead it had five chubby digits, one of which appeared opposable. On the rat's back was a large pink hump. There were distinct features that gave structure to the hump. It was a perfectly formed infant human face.
I'm sure you've seen this before, Mr Archer. This picture was taken by an unknown UC&C employee five years ago. It cost the company untold billions in bad publicity. They are still trying to spin this monstrosity into a simple mistake, no big deal... This is what we are fighting against. This is the spirit of disrespect, of sheer hatred against the dignity and value of human life. When I was a child, China was still a communist totalitarian regime where Christianity and any other faith was illegal. That godless spirit still exists in that nation. Does this not make you angry?"
Ransom put his hands up."Hey man. I don't like abortion either. And I definitely don't like rat-man up there. But I also don't want to look like one of those anti-abortion wackos, like those guys in San Antonio."
"See, that's our bad publicity. Because of our pro-life stance, we are considered guilty by association. The actions of a few extremists are sending patients to UC&C for their cellular therapy. Most people don't even know what our official stance on abortion is. We are against it, but we allow women to make their own choice. And we don't condemn those who opt for abortion. We just refuse to profit from it. That would violate our beliefs. And what does it profit a man to gain the world and lose his soul?"
"So what are you guys gonna do?"
"Seventh Day's cytology department will start using embryonic stem cells."
"But I thought you just said...'
The Doctor stopped him with an upheld hand. "When a person is sick or dying, and they need cellular therapy of some kind, what we would do is extract bone marrow, or some other type of adult stem cell from the patient, de-differentiate and culture the cells in a bioreactor. At UC&C, they would clone the patient, destroy the clone embryo, and harvest the embryonic stem cells. These methods are ideal because in either case, the stem cells match the patient's genetic code, therefore won't be rejected by the patient's immune system. From there we can inject the cells into the patient, or use them to grow a tissue culture, or even an entire organ.
"The problem with this is that it takes time and money, something that a lot of patients don't have. So what we are forced to do is search our cell banks for donor stem cells that closely resemble the patients somatic cells. UC&C has a bigger and much more varied cell inventory than Seventh Day. You still with me?"
"Sure, doc."
"A human cell is covered with molecular markers which allow the immune system to identify it as a somatic cell, rather than a foreign body. The alleles that code for these markers are found on a locus called the Human Leukocyte Antigen.
"Project Beatrice is an effort to modify and delete certain genes of the HLA until the polypeptide markers created would be accepted by any persons system. And at that, I am happy to say, through great effort and expense, we have succeeded."
Ransom thought about it for a moment. Then it hit him. "A universal donor cell. That'll change the entire industry. Affordable and readily available cellular therapy for everyone. No more worry about transplant rejection or dangerous immuno-suppressive drugs."
"See, I told you you were smart."
"But in order to get these stem cells," continued Ransom, "you need an embryo with the modified genome. And that embryo has to die."
"Ransom, I had agonized over the decision on whether to fund Project Beatrice. I have prayed and fasted. Sometimes we are forced to make hard decisions where the difference between right and wrong is not so easy to see."
"So what does this have to do with me?" asked Ransom.
"Your job offer. I will ask you to accept an assignment where you will literally be risking your life. I would completely understand if you turned this down. If you do, you may return to your normal job as if none of this ever happened. Should I go on?"
"Yes."
"Corporate intelligence tells us that knowledge about Project Beatrice has been leaked to any number of sources. And according to reliable informants, their are concerns in the biotech black market that would be very interested in something like Beatrice. I really can't say as to what length someone might go to steal Beatrice. But if the criminal effort is funded by the Chinese, the lengths would be very far indeed. We believe UC&C would rather have something like Beatrice available from the black market before it's available from their main competitor.
"In two weeks time, Project Beatrice will enter its final phase. Beatrice will be conceived. The embryo will be allowed to grow for approximately six days. On the seventh day, no pun intended, Beatrice will be frozen and transported to a bioreactor where we will harvest its stem cells, culture them, and mass produce them.
"In order to produce the massive amount of cells we need, we need to transport the frozen embryo from our lab here in Orlando to the most efficient bioreactor in existence. As you can guess, transportation poses a security risk."
"How much of a risk?" asked Ransom.
"Unknown. I know that we have spies working for us who are providing information to UC&C and to black market dealers. But even more shocking, corporate intelligence tells me that there are among us agents of terrorist organizations like Judgment Force."
"The guys behind the San Antonio attack."
"Yes. And on top of all of this, there are people, executives, leaders, who do not want Seventh Day to have anything to do with Beatrice. They believe it's murder, plain and simple. They believe they are doing the right thing in doing everything possible to see Project Beatrice fail. Stonewalling funding, openly criticizing the project. I'm in quite a bind. There are very few people I can trust.
"My plan is to get Beatrice to the bioreactor before anyone who means harm even knows that it's left the building. Have an undercover armed courier transport the the embryo while a few of the most trusted members of corporate security watch at a distance using encrypted tracking. I need to recruit someone new to do this. Someone not known to corporate hierarchy. Someone who would appreciate the gravity of what we are doing, and then get the job done. Someone who can be trusted."
"You want me to be the courier?" asked Ransom.
"I want you to take the future of this company and perhaps the health of the entire human race into your hands for a few hours."
"And there's a chance I could be robbed and killed."
"It's not likely, by any means. But we're on orange alert here.
"It's very simple. You pick up Beatrice. Take it to the bioreactor location, by car, then by supersonic jet. Drop it off. We put you up for a night in a one hundred thousand dollar hotel room. And then you go home."
"One hundred thousand dollars? You're joking."
"No." said the doctor.
"There no hotel in the world that costs one hundred thousand dollars a night."
"No, there isn't."
"Then what are you talking about?" asked Ransom.
The doctor cocked his head. "Smart glass, magnify." The opaque windows in Dr Dacron's office became clear again. The doctor walked up to the window and touched a point on the eastern horizon. The window zoomed in on that spot. Ransom was able to see all the way to the coast. He could see the obsolescent structures of the launch pads, and the massive face of the Vehicle Assembly Building. The window zoomed a little bit closer. Ever so faintly, Ransom could see the jet trail of an aerospace vehicle flying off into the exosphere.
Ransom was dizzy. It suddenly occurred to him that he could be living every child's dream. "Space? I'm delivering Beatrice to a space station?"
"The space city on Kilgore Station." aswered the doctor. "The bioreactor we built there is the most efficient known to man. Something about the low gravity, it allows us to culture cells up to ten times faster."
"Okay, I'll do it." Ransom stood up, "I'll do it."
"What about the risk?"
"I'm not afraid. I don't really have anything to lose."
"Whoa. Not so fast. You answered that way to quickly. We still have lots to talk about. You being in a state of fearlessness is not what I want. I want you to be afraid. I want you to have a fear that will inspire your faith. So sit down, son. We have to talk about your faith."
Ransom sat down. "Faith? You can't offer me a job and then rescind the offer because I don't have faith in God. That's illegal."
"Not to mention immoral. But that's not what I'm doing. If we discuss your faith in God, that's only for my personal benefit. But as an executive officer of this company, my only concern over offering you this job is whether you have faith in this corporation and what we are doing. Now, the one question you've failed to ask is, why me?"
Ransom shrugged. "Okay, why me?"
"It is a good strategy to take an adversary and make him an ally so that he can work for you."
"I'm an adversary?"
"There are a good number of people in this company who are very angry with you. You may not realize this, but Seventh Day has a department dedicated to research into the field of artificial intelligence. our commitment to AI research is modest compared to the effort put into it by other corporations, Nippon Fullerene for example.
"Recently, this department lost a lot of money. A hundred million dollars is a very rough estimate of the amount of money it will cost to do a quick and total rebuild of the Virtual Jesus simulated intelligence network, to mount a massive PR campaign to promote the new Virtual Jesus, and to spin the failure of the first Virtual Jesus. Now when that much money is lost, people want someone to blame. And some say that you should be blamed."
"Me? The Robo-Jesus? How is that my fault?
"The Jesus simulated intelligence was based on the Socrates neural net. The team who developed it wanted to make Jesus bigger and better than the Virtual Socrates. In fact, they wanted it to be the most advanced, quote, unquote, smartest, AI ever built. They had no delusions of this Jesus thing passing the Turing test and becoming a true human-level AI. But their limited ambitions were not limited enough.
"Now, I'm no expert in cybernetic intelligence systems. But as I understand it, they made the Virtual Jesus too smart. An AI needs a certain level of stupidity, or it will simply refuse to work. When Jesus stopped working, there were over a thousand people asking him questions at the same time. No problem for a high-end AI. But it was one person's question, yours, that caused Jesus to go into what they call a paradox crash, the cybernetic equivalent of a complete nervous breakdown."
Ransom shrugged again. "What can I say. Oops?"
"They tested and prepared the Virtual Jesus for months. They had the world's greatest theologians question and temper the neural network. They can't figure out for the life of them how a twenty-five year old college dropout was able to destroy years of work in fifteen minutes. They are convinced that you are some sort of memetic hacker, and that we should sue you. But don't worry. We have no evidence against you. Most of Seventh Day leadership readily admits that it was our bad. You are as innocent as the little boy who told the emperor that he was naked.
"The good thing that came of this is that it brought you to my attention. We need someone with integrity to conduct this mission. And you've shown that you can stand up for what you believe, even when what you believe is unpopular. I just wish you didn't play for the humanists."
"I don't play for anyone. I just believe what I believe." said Ransom.
"Of course, Mr Archer. It's just that we are at a crucial time in history. Even when considering the revitalizing fires of the Transadventist Revival of the early twenty-first century, Christianity is slowly losing its significance. As science promises to change humanity, the struggle between Faith and Humanism will become more pronounced than ever before.
"More and more young people, such as yourself, are turning their backs on Faith in favor of Humanism. Especially a new denomination of Humanism, Superhumanism. This new form of unbelief offers everything that the Christian Church offers, eternal life and never-ending abundance in a transformed Heaven and Earth. Hey, if I didn't know better, I'd be all for this Superhumanism."
"What do you know, doctor?" asked Ransom.
"The people who ascribe to this non-belief think that a complete unified theory is right around the corner. What they don't realize is that mankind still has much to learn from nature and science. take for example how much we still don't know about how the human central nervous system works. As powerful as computers have become, nothing comes close to the human brain. With circuits the size of molecules, the human central nervous system is the most complex, most elegant, most miraculous thing in the known universe. We can witness the emergent properties that came with evolution just by looking at the ascending layers of complexity in our brains. The reptilian level, the mammalian level, and the primate level. Yet our technology cannot even comprehend the most primitive part of the central nervous system, the spinal cord."
Ransom shifted in his chair, suddenly suspicious.
"When I was your age, Mr Archer, a person with a spinal cord injury was paralyzed for life. Now, we can repair some spinal cord injuries, but not others. Seventh Day manages the most advanced spinal cord injury research facility in the world down in Miami. An innovation in the field of cytology such as Beatrice would be a Godsend to those scientists in SoFlo. Mr Archer, wouldn't you feel wonderful, knowing you helped contribute to a complete and fully effective cure to paralysis?"
Ransom was now definitely suspicious. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Most of what we know about the brain and spinal cord comes from studying and treating injuries. Beatrice will do nothing but advance this study. So think about the big picture for a moment. In order for mankind to advance, to evolve, to progress to the next level; it is necessary for us to form a complete theory on the workings of the human central nervous system. Don't you agree?"
"That makes sense."
For the first time during their conversation, the older man lost some of the confidence he had addressing the younger man. The doctor seemed almost embarrassed by what he was about to say. "What people don't realize is that a cure for paralysis would be a boon to mankind. One thing I, and the rest of Seventh Day feels passionately about is equality for those who are disabled. When striving for these rights, it's important to know that it's not a contest of us versus them. The disabled are part of our society. They are us. Their condition is the human condition. And they are just as important to us as any other member of the human family. Sometimes, they are even more important. Wouldn't you agree?"
"What the fuck are you getting at, doctor?"
"I'm talking about the extraordinary young woman, the Superhumanist, Miss Cohen-Moore."
Ransom launched himself out of his chair and stomped to window overlooking downtown.
"You love her, don't you?" asked Doctor Dacron.
Ransom couldn't stand to look at him.
"I was once a young man too."
Still without looking, Ransom spoke, "All these things you've been telling me. This isn't a general sell speech. This is specifically tailored for me. You know me better than my own parents."
"The security people performed an extensive internet search for any data about you on public servers."
"It was you." said Ransom. "You hacked into my home server."
"One of the computer techs in the security department did that."
"That's illegal."
"Mr Archer, I was planning on telling you what we did. And I hoped you would understand that it was necessary. But if you don't, then my computer experts assure me that there's no way you can prove we did it, unless you have a hidden hologram recorder catching my confession right now."
"Okay, then why was it necessary?"
"Even though I believed in my heart and spirit that you were right for this job, that wasn't near enough for Corporate Security. My most trusted security people had to get you top clearance. And they couldn't do that without a full investigation, because you were flagged in our system."
"Why was I flagged?"
"In the year 2019, The state of Central Florida was formed under the Mega-state Balkanization Act which split the states of Florida, Texas, and California into smaller states so that they would no longer threaten American democracy with their inordinate size and power. When it formed, the state of CenFlo abolished all public schools and sent it's children to private schools through a voucher system. Your parents, however, declined your state vouchers until 2021."
"Yeah." said Ransom. "My parents, um, my mother home-schooled me for ninth and tenth grades. What the hell does this have to do with anything?"
"In 2021, you enrolled in Baseball City High School for the eleventh grade. Baseball High is owned by Seventh Day. When you were enrolled, our security servers flagged you because you flunked your psychological tests."
"What?"
"The servers indicated that your test answers were consistent with someone with RED." said the doctor.
"RED?"
"Religious Extremism Disorder."
Ransom finally returned to his seat. He looked straight at the doctor. "You think I'm a theopath?"
"The DSM-VI defines a theopathic personality as one that displays severe anti-social tendencies due to extreme religious belief. You displayed no behavior that indicated you were a theopath. Only the potential. That's why the computer flagged you."
"Doctor, you're telling me that your corporate servers have been following me with a personality test I took in high school?"
"Not just that." The doctor spoke to the window. "Smart glass, retrieve picture file, R Archer one." He faced Ransom. "This snap shot was taken on twelve June 2021 from public cameras on Colonial Drive in downtown Orlando. Records of a public disturbance. No one was hurt. But downtown was brought to a standstill for a couple hours."
A picture appeared on the window. It was a group of young people, very young people, teenagers on the side of the road. They were protesting. Not military action, or corporate globalization. They were protesting what they believed to be evil itself. And they were carrying large posters. Mutilated bodies. Blood and gore. Aborted fetuses. Ransom got up and walked to the giant photograph. The tall young lanky teenage boy looked like he was trying his best to look morally outraged. But really, he looked happy. He looked like a young man of few cares. A young man who was confident in the fact that he was fighting unambiguous evil in a world that could be understood in black and white.
Ransom looked at the old man. "I was sixteen, doctor. You never did anything stupid when you were sixteen?"
"We had to be sure, Ransom. When word gets out that Seventh Day will using embryonic stem cell technology, the terrorists who are bombing abortion clinics and cell banks may come after us. We wanted to be confident that you had absolutely no ties to radical ultra-right wing fundamentalist groups."
The picture faded away allowing the bright cloudless Florida sky to shine through. Looking over the city, Ransom suddenly felt small. "So the security people trust me?"
"Yes. And now that you have top security clearance, I have one more thing to show you. I saved the best for last." Dr Dacron handed a black leather folder to Ransom. The leather had two nano-compiled precious stones set into the front, each one looked like a symbol. They were the corporate symbols for Seventh Day and The Nippon Fullerene Corporation. And underneath, one word, "Nephilim."
"This is of course, top secret." said the doctor.
Ransom flipped through the book. It appeared to be schemata of something, he wasn't sure. He saw a few pictures created with quantum gravity photography. Pictures of axons, glia, nerve cells. "What is it?"
"I took a trip to Japan a few months ago. It's amazing what those guys with Nippon Fullerene are doing over there. They have these androids that are so lifelike, you can't tell they're machines unless they're standing right in front of you. Um... anyway. Right now they are working on something... it could be the most important technology of the century, or perhaps ever."
"Human-level AI." said Ransom.
"There are many people also working towards the creation of AI. Most people, The Superhuman League for example, are of the opinion that the, top down, approach to AI research is the way to go. They observe human intelligence and then try to duplicate it through a mechanical substrate. The Japanese are about to devote a lot of time and money to what could be the greatest scientific endeavor of our time. They will attempt to create AI, a computer just as powerful, and eventually more so, than the human brain. They will do it using the, bottom up, approach. They will create circuits that will mimic the cells of the human central nervous system. They will be networked together in the same way they are in the human brain. They will essentially be reverse engineering the human brain.
"To do this, they need biologists, cytologists, neurologists, bio-physicists, people who know the human body, people who work for us. This will be the biggest cooperative project we've ever undertaken. This will be bigger than Beatrice. But we need Beatrice to do this. This has never been said in front of the conservative executive board of Seventh Day. But I'll say it now. This is our future."
Ransom's head was swimming with the implications of what the doctor was telling him. "How can you, as a Christian, sponsor this project for human-level AI? To recreate creation. Isn't this playing God?"
"We cannot stop the progress of science or the evolution of mankind. When AI comes, if it comes, no doubt there will be great moral dilemmas. What if these machine children possess souls as infinitely valuable as ours? We must put away our preconceived notions of God. God is everywhere and in everything. We must have faith that when we look towards the future, God will meet us there, just as he has met us in the past."
"Are you hoping to trigger The Singularity?" asked Ransom.
"As a Transadventist Christian, I must give thought to the Second Coming. I'm sure you've noticed the similarities between the speculations of a post-singularity world, and the hopes of the Millennial Kingdom described in the Bible. Who is to say that this is not the method by which God will establish his Kingdom?"
"But what about Armageddon?"
"I spent much time studying apocalyptic literature when I was younger. And not just the Adventist view or the Pre-millennial dispensationalist view. One thing I believe is that no man can know the day or even the nature of The Second Coming save for the very vague predictions put forth in the Bible. I believe God made his prophecies vague on purpose. So that his words will be sealed until the appointed day and time. In general, Ransom, Life never turns out the way you think it will. This is God's plan. And anyone who thinks that they can predict how God will allow history to play out is either deluded or a sinner.
"Now, Claude Virunga, as well as most Biblical scholars believe that before the Millennial Kingdom, there will be a time of great trouble never seen before. Pestilence, famine, and war."
"The Tribulation." said Ransom.
"We Transadventists believe that a Christian's job is to bring about the Kingdom, not the Tribulation. Indeed, many Christians believe that there will be no Tribulation, or that they will be spared from it when it does come. Because of all the violence he saw in his life, the Reverend Virunga couldn't accept that The Tribulation was anything but unavoidable. And he may be one hundred percent correct. But I pray with all my might that he's wrong."
Ransom stood up and handed the leather folder to Dr Dacron.
"I am finished, Ransom. Now that I've told you everything. Now that you know what's at stake. Tell me, do you want the job."
What other choice did Ransom have?
"The furniture in my office was a gift from the president of Nippon Fullerene. Each piece is made of diamond, nano-compiled, assembled in their factories atom by atom. Thirty years ago, that chair you are sitting on could have been cut into individual stones and sold for hundreds of millions of dollars, which was a lot of money back then."
"It isn't very comfortable."
The doctor ignored him. "Now then, where was I... The Seventh Day Wellness Corporation. Our business is health. We own eighty-five percent of all the hospitals in the world, ninety-five percent in the United States. Ninety-eight percent of all doctors in the world have been contracted by our company at one time or another."
"Doc, I heard all of this during orientation, when I was hired."
"Let me finish. Now earlier you accused Seventh Day of raiding the Adventist coffers. But we just don't manage hospitals. We also fund innovative research. Our corporation owns the patents on many new technologies. We lead the world in therapeutic cellular treatments derived from adult stem cell technology. Our donor cell banks are the largest in the United States. We are the field of cytology, along with United Cell and Clone in China."
"UC&C owns about three fourths of the cytology field." said Ransom. "And they own most of the hospitals and health care facilities that you don't own."
"Yes, they are our biggest competitor. At one time, UC&C had no competitor. Their dominance of the cellular therapy field was unquestioned. But we, as Christians, could not accept their dependence on embryonic stem cells. We went in another direction and poured our efforts into adult stem cell technology. We revolutionized the industry. We showed that healing can come from a person's own body. We made adult stem cell therapy a viable option for our patients. The people responded and made the cytology department of Seventh Day number two, and soon to be number one in the world."
"You guys did that by convincing people that UC&C profits from abortion, and that buying stem cells from them, and not you, is like buying a one way ticket to Hell." said Ransom.
The Doctor ignored him and went on. "Not only did we innovate the field of cytology. We've also thrown our hat into the world of genetic engineering and have been successful there too. We own the patents on many strains of genetically modified food crops and agricueticals. Sanitas Foods is the worlds largest producer of health foods and a subsidiary of Seventh Day. Part of the reason they dominate the health food industry is because through genetic modification, they have made healthy foods even healthier. Seventh Day owns the patent on the most popular breed of GMO livestock ever invented, the Endorphinated Milk cow breed, which I'm sure you've used. The milk from these cows contains a natural narcotic which can be used for medicinal purposes, or diluted with regular milk and drunk casually."
"These are just more example of how your company pushes its religion on people." said Ransom.
"What now?" asked Dr Dacron.
"Well, as I understand, people used to be afraid of food that came from a GMO. They considered genetic modification to be synonymous with, poisoned. They wouldn't listen to the godless secular scientists who said that GMO's go through rigorous testing before they are allowed to be sold to the public. But you guys told the public that it was okay to tinker with the genetic code of plants and animals. In fact, God decreed that right when he gave us dominion over the earth. Once again, the religion that says, blessed are the poor, turns out to be very profitable indeed."
The doctor shook his head. "The Christian Church has no greater enemy than its own ex-faithful. But I'm not finished yet. Do you know why we've been discussing world corporate politics?"
"I thought we were killing time."
"No, Mr Archer. It is because I want you to understand the nature of the beast. Global corporate consolidation has been a long process. At the turn of the century, only five corporations controlled practically all of the world's media. Now, only ten corporations control ninety percent of all private business and industry. Ten companies, seven American, one European, one Japanese, and one Chinese. However, the Big Ten are so globally widespread that matters of nationality hardly matter anymore. Corporate rule has created a world without borders. The dream of The United Nations has been realized. That is, if the United Nations still existed.
"When I was your age, Mr Archer, politicians would feign disinterest or hostility towards corporate interests. But now, such posturing is virtually non-existent. Corporate lobbies and special interests are what determine elections now. And most politicians freely admit the mantra of modern government. What's good for General Motors is good for America."
"General Motors?" asked Ransom
"Oh, sorry. Now it's World Motors, isn't it. They bought out GM in 2014. Anyway, for the past thirteen years, the better part of you life, Mr Archer, world corporate power has been static in the hands of the Big Ten. You probably think things are going to stay that way. But you'd be wrong.
"Now, of the Big Ten corporations, only one is Christian. Only one is not for profit. Only one will consider business in no other way except as to how it can glorify God. Only one gives at least ten percent of all its profits to corporate sponsored welfare, faith-based initiatives of all faiths, and non-faith based initiatives. Only one framed it's corporate mission statement in the form of a prayer." Doctor Dacron pointed at Ransom.
"Gee... Seventh Day Wellness?"
"Change is coming, Mr Archer. The Big Ten are so interconnected that if one suffers, all will suffer. Fuzion Energy, Eurospace, and World Motors have so many business alliances that one could convincingly argue that they are only one company. Sometime in the future, soon, global corporate consolidation will take its final step."
Ransom looked suspiciously, "One world omni-corporation."
"Correct. And there is much doubt as to what kind of influence Seventh Day will play in the New World Order. Of course, Health care will always be necessary. There will always be need for hospitals. But there is one corporation that could possibly take our place and absorb our organization."
"The Chinese." said Ransom.
"Well, yes. United Cell and Clone. Now don't get me wrong. There are many American employees at UC&C. And there are many more Chinese who work for us. But yes, the Chinese pose a great threat to us. They were none too happy when we took a large chunk of the stem cell industry away from them. They have had it out for us ever since. Last year, we were forced to sell five hospitals on the Indo-pakistan continent. And guess who jumped up to buy them. UC&C. The bottom line is, Seventh Day is in trouble. We are steadily losing money. Financial experts predict that at this rate, we will be the smallest of the Big Ten within a year. And the prevailing opinion among our leadership is that we need to expand our cytology department if we want to stay competitive. What we need is Beatrice."
"Project Beatrice?" asked Ransom.
"You've heard of it?"
"I once overheard a couple doctors mention it at the hospital in Baseball. They didn't really say anything about it."
"We are hoping that Beatrice will revolutionize medicine. But it disturbs me that you've heard of it. That just shows that our security heads are not paranoid. Hmmm." The doctor stood up and paced the room. "We are limited by the fact that our cell banks and our cellular therapies rely solely on adult stem cells, while UC&C uses both kinds of stem cells, but relies mostly on the embryonic type."
"So why not start using embryonic stem cells like UC&C?" asked Ransom.
"Absolutely out of the question. Seventh Day will not profiteer from abortion." The doctor walked to the window behind his desk. "Like the view?"
"Yes. I could see my house from here, if we were facing the other direction."
"It's smart-glass." The doctor cocked his head to the side. "Server, retrieve picture file, abomination one."
The window turned opaque for a moment. The office went dark until it was lit up by a picture that made Ransom want to vomit. He'd seen it before. The picture was famous. It had been all over the Net. No one didn't think it wasn't totally revolting. In the picture, it was a large white rat with obvious deformities. It had five legs. One of the legs was bigger than the others. It was pink and hairless. It didn't have claws. Instead it had five chubby digits, one of which appeared opposable. On the rat's back was a large pink hump. There were distinct features that gave structure to the hump. It was a perfectly formed infant human face.
I'm sure you've seen this before, Mr Archer. This picture was taken by an unknown UC&C employee five years ago. It cost the company untold billions in bad publicity. They are still trying to spin this monstrosity into a simple mistake, no big deal... This is what we are fighting against. This is the spirit of disrespect, of sheer hatred against the dignity and value of human life. When I was a child, China was still a communist totalitarian regime where Christianity and any other faith was illegal. That godless spirit still exists in that nation. Does this not make you angry?"
Ransom put his hands up."Hey man. I don't like abortion either. And I definitely don't like rat-man up there. But I also don't want to look like one of those anti-abortion wackos, like those guys in San Antonio."
"See, that's our bad publicity. Because of our pro-life stance, we are considered guilty by association. The actions of a few extremists are sending patients to UC&C for their cellular therapy. Most people don't even know what our official stance on abortion is. We are against it, but we allow women to make their own choice. And we don't condemn those who opt for abortion. We just refuse to profit from it. That would violate our beliefs. And what does it profit a man to gain the world and lose his soul?"
"So what are you guys gonna do?"
"Seventh Day's cytology department will start using embryonic stem cells."
"But I thought you just said...'
The Doctor stopped him with an upheld hand. "When a person is sick or dying, and they need cellular therapy of some kind, what we would do is extract bone marrow, or some other type of adult stem cell from the patient, de-differentiate and culture the cells in a bioreactor. At UC&C, they would clone the patient, destroy the clone embryo, and harvest the embryonic stem cells. These methods are ideal because in either case, the stem cells match the patient's genetic code, therefore won't be rejected by the patient's immune system. From there we can inject the cells into the patient, or use them to grow a tissue culture, or even an entire organ.
"The problem with this is that it takes time and money, something that a lot of patients don't have. So what we are forced to do is search our cell banks for donor stem cells that closely resemble the patients somatic cells. UC&C has a bigger and much more varied cell inventory than Seventh Day. You still with me?"
"Sure, doc."
"A human cell is covered with molecular markers which allow the immune system to identify it as a somatic cell, rather than a foreign body. The alleles that code for these markers are found on a locus called the Human Leukocyte Antigen.
"Project Beatrice is an effort to modify and delete certain genes of the HLA until the polypeptide markers created would be accepted by any persons system. And at that, I am happy to say, through great effort and expense, we have succeeded."
Ransom thought about it for a moment. Then it hit him. "A universal donor cell. That'll change the entire industry. Affordable and readily available cellular therapy for everyone. No more worry about transplant rejection or dangerous immuno-suppressive drugs."
"See, I told you you were smart."
"But in order to get these stem cells," continued Ransom, "you need an embryo with the modified genome. And that embryo has to die."
"Ransom, I had agonized over the decision on whether to fund Project Beatrice. I have prayed and fasted. Sometimes we are forced to make hard decisions where the difference between right and wrong is not so easy to see."
"So what does this have to do with me?" asked Ransom.
"Your job offer. I will ask you to accept an assignment where you will literally be risking your life. I would completely understand if you turned this down. If you do, you may return to your normal job as if none of this ever happened. Should I go on?"
"Yes."
"Corporate intelligence tells us that knowledge about Project Beatrice has been leaked to any number of sources. And according to reliable informants, their are concerns in the biotech black market that would be very interested in something like Beatrice. I really can't say as to what length someone might go to steal Beatrice. But if the criminal effort is funded by the Chinese, the lengths would be very far indeed. We believe UC&C would rather have something like Beatrice available from the black market before it's available from their main competitor.
"In two weeks time, Project Beatrice will enter its final phase. Beatrice will be conceived. The embryo will be allowed to grow for approximately six days. On the seventh day, no pun intended, Beatrice will be frozen and transported to a bioreactor where we will harvest its stem cells, culture them, and mass produce them.
"In order to produce the massive amount of cells we need, we need to transport the frozen embryo from our lab here in Orlando to the most efficient bioreactor in existence. As you can guess, transportation poses a security risk."
"How much of a risk?" asked Ransom.
"Unknown. I know that we have spies working for us who are providing information to UC&C and to black market dealers. But even more shocking, corporate intelligence tells me that there are among us agents of terrorist organizations like Judgment Force."
"The guys behind the San Antonio attack."
"Yes. And on top of all of this, there are people, executives, leaders, who do not want Seventh Day to have anything to do with Beatrice. They believe it's murder, plain and simple. They believe they are doing the right thing in doing everything possible to see Project Beatrice fail. Stonewalling funding, openly criticizing the project. I'm in quite a bind. There are very few people I can trust.
"My plan is to get Beatrice to the bioreactor before anyone who means harm even knows that it's left the building. Have an undercover armed courier transport the the embryo while a few of the most trusted members of corporate security watch at a distance using encrypted tracking. I need to recruit someone new to do this. Someone not known to corporate hierarchy. Someone who would appreciate the gravity of what we are doing, and then get the job done. Someone who can be trusted."
"You want me to be the courier?" asked Ransom.
"I want you to take the future of this company and perhaps the health of the entire human race into your hands for a few hours."
"And there's a chance I could be robbed and killed."
"It's not likely, by any means. But we're on orange alert here.
"It's very simple. You pick up Beatrice. Take it to the bioreactor location, by car, then by supersonic jet. Drop it off. We put you up for a night in a one hundred thousand dollar hotel room. And then you go home."
"One hundred thousand dollars? You're joking."
"No." said the doctor.
"There no hotel in the world that costs one hundred thousand dollars a night."
"No, there isn't."
"Then what are you talking about?" asked Ransom.
The doctor cocked his head. "Smart glass, magnify." The opaque windows in Dr Dacron's office became clear again. The doctor walked up to the window and touched a point on the eastern horizon. The window zoomed in on that spot. Ransom was able to see all the way to the coast. He could see the obsolescent structures of the launch pads, and the massive face of the Vehicle Assembly Building. The window zoomed a little bit closer. Ever so faintly, Ransom could see the jet trail of an aerospace vehicle flying off into the exosphere.
Ransom was dizzy. It suddenly occurred to him that he could be living every child's dream. "Space? I'm delivering Beatrice to a space station?"
"The space city on Kilgore Station." aswered the doctor. "The bioreactor we built there is the most efficient known to man. Something about the low gravity, it allows us to culture cells up to ten times faster."
"Okay, I'll do it." Ransom stood up, "I'll do it."
"What about the risk?"
"I'm not afraid. I don't really have anything to lose."
"Whoa. Not so fast. You answered that way to quickly. We still have lots to talk about. You being in a state of fearlessness is not what I want. I want you to be afraid. I want you to have a fear that will inspire your faith. So sit down, son. We have to talk about your faith."
Ransom sat down. "Faith? You can't offer me a job and then rescind the offer because I don't have faith in God. That's illegal."
"Not to mention immoral. But that's not what I'm doing. If we discuss your faith in God, that's only for my personal benefit. But as an executive officer of this company, my only concern over offering you this job is whether you have faith in this corporation and what we are doing. Now, the one question you've failed to ask is, why me?"
Ransom shrugged. "Okay, why me?"
"It is a good strategy to take an adversary and make him an ally so that he can work for you."
"I'm an adversary?"
"There are a good number of people in this company who are very angry with you. You may not realize this, but Seventh Day has a department dedicated to research into the field of artificial intelligence. our commitment to AI research is modest compared to the effort put into it by other corporations, Nippon Fullerene for example.
"Recently, this department lost a lot of money. A hundred million dollars is a very rough estimate of the amount of money it will cost to do a quick and total rebuild of the Virtual Jesus simulated intelligence network, to mount a massive PR campaign to promote the new Virtual Jesus, and to spin the failure of the first Virtual Jesus. Now when that much money is lost, people want someone to blame. And some say that you should be blamed."
"Me? The Robo-Jesus? How is that my fault?
"The Jesus simulated intelligence was based on the Socrates neural net. The team who developed it wanted to make Jesus bigger and better than the Virtual Socrates. In fact, they wanted it to be the most advanced, quote, unquote, smartest, AI ever built. They had no delusions of this Jesus thing passing the Turing test and becoming a true human-level AI. But their limited ambitions were not limited enough.
"Now, I'm no expert in cybernetic intelligence systems. But as I understand it, they made the Virtual Jesus too smart. An AI needs a certain level of stupidity, or it will simply refuse to work. When Jesus stopped working, there were over a thousand people asking him questions at the same time. No problem for a high-end AI. But it was one person's question, yours, that caused Jesus to go into what they call a paradox crash, the cybernetic equivalent of a complete nervous breakdown."
Ransom shrugged again. "What can I say. Oops?"
"They tested and prepared the Virtual Jesus for months. They had the world's greatest theologians question and temper the neural network. They can't figure out for the life of them how a twenty-five year old college dropout was able to destroy years of work in fifteen minutes. They are convinced that you are some sort of memetic hacker, and that we should sue you. But don't worry. We have no evidence against you. Most of Seventh Day leadership readily admits that it was our bad. You are as innocent as the little boy who told the emperor that he was naked.
"The good thing that came of this is that it brought you to my attention. We need someone with integrity to conduct this mission. And you've shown that you can stand up for what you believe, even when what you believe is unpopular. I just wish you didn't play for the humanists."
"I don't play for anyone. I just believe what I believe." said Ransom.
"Of course, Mr Archer. It's just that we are at a crucial time in history. Even when considering the revitalizing fires of the Transadventist Revival of the early twenty-first century, Christianity is slowly losing its significance. As science promises to change humanity, the struggle between Faith and Humanism will become more pronounced than ever before.
"More and more young people, such as yourself, are turning their backs on Faith in favor of Humanism. Especially a new denomination of Humanism, Superhumanism. This new form of unbelief offers everything that the Christian Church offers, eternal life and never-ending abundance in a transformed Heaven and Earth. Hey, if I didn't know better, I'd be all for this Superhumanism."
"What do you know, doctor?" asked Ransom.
"The people who ascribe to this non-belief think that a complete unified theory is right around the corner. What they don't realize is that mankind still has much to learn from nature and science. take for example how much we still don't know about how the human central nervous system works. As powerful as computers have become, nothing comes close to the human brain. With circuits the size of molecules, the human central nervous system is the most complex, most elegant, most miraculous thing in the known universe. We can witness the emergent properties that came with evolution just by looking at the ascending layers of complexity in our brains. The reptilian level, the mammalian level, and the primate level. Yet our technology cannot even comprehend the most primitive part of the central nervous system, the spinal cord."
Ransom shifted in his chair, suddenly suspicious.
"When I was your age, Mr Archer, a person with a spinal cord injury was paralyzed for life. Now, we can repair some spinal cord injuries, but not others. Seventh Day manages the most advanced spinal cord injury research facility in the world down in Miami. An innovation in the field of cytology such as Beatrice would be a Godsend to those scientists in SoFlo. Mr Archer, wouldn't you feel wonderful, knowing you helped contribute to a complete and fully effective cure to paralysis?"
Ransom was now definitely suspicious. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Most of what we know about the brain and spinal cord comes from studying and treating injuries. Beatrice will do nothing but advance this study. So think about the big picture for a moment. In order for mankind to advance, to evolve, to progress to the next level; it is necessary for us to form a complete theory on the workings of the human central nervous system. Don't you agree?"
"That makes sense."
For the first time during their conversation, the older man lost some of the confidence he had addressing the younger man. The doctor seemed almost embarrassed by what he was about to say. "What people don't realize is that a cure for paralysis would be a boon to mankind. One thing I, and the rest of Seventh Day feels passionately about is equality for those who are disabled. When striving for these rights, it's important to know that it's not a contest of us versus them. The disabled are part of our society. They are us. Their condition is the human condition. And they are just as important to us as any other member of the human family. Sometimes, they are even more important. Wouldn't you agree?"
"What the fuck are you getting at, doctor?"
"I'm talking about the extraordinary young woman, the Superhumanist, Miss Cohen-Moore."
Ransom launched himself out of his chair and stomped to window overlooking downtown.
"You love her, don't you?" asked Doctor Dacron.
Ransom couldn't stand to look at him.
"I was once a young man too."
Still without looking, Ransom spoke, "All these things you've been telling me. This isn't a general sell speech. This is specifically tailored for me. You know me better than my own parents."
"The security people performed an extensive internet search for any data about you on public servers."
"It was you." said Ransom. "You hacked into my home server."
"One of the computer techs in the security department did that."
"That's illegal."
"Mr Archer, I was planning on telling you what we did. And I hoped you would understand that it was necessary. But if you don't, then my computer experts assure me that there's no way you can prove we did it, unless you have a hidden hologram recorder catching my confession right now."
"Okay, then why was it necessary?"
"Even though I believed in my heart and spirit that you were right for this job, that wasn't near enough for Corporate Security. My most trusted security people had to get you top clearance. And they couldn't do that without a full investigation, because you were flagged in our system."
"Why was I flagged?"
"In the year 2019, The state of Central Florida was formed under the Mega-state Balkanization Act which split the states of Florida, Texas, and California into smaller states so that they would no longer threaten American democracy with their inordinate size and power. When it formed, the state of CenFlo abolished all public schools and sent it's children to private schools through a voucher system. Your parents, however, declined your state vouchers until 2021."
"Yeah." said Ransom. "My parents, um, my mother home-schooled me for ninth and tenth grades. What the hell does this have to do with anything?"
"In 2021, you enrolled in Baseball City High School for the eleventh grade. Baseball High is owned by Seventh Day. When you were enrolled, our security servers flagged you because you flunked your psychological tests."
"What?"
"The servers indicated that your test answers were consistent with someone with RED." said the doctor.
"RED?"
"Religious Extremism Disorder."
Ransom finally returned to his seat. He looked straight at the doctor. "You think I'm a theopath?"
"The DSM-VI defines a theopathic personality as one that displays severe anti-social tendencies due to extreme religious belief. You displayed no behavior that indicated you were a theopath. Only the potential. That's why the computer flagged you."
"Doctor, you're telling me that your corporate servers have been following me with a personality test I took in high school?"
"Not just that." The doctor spoke to the window. "Smart glass, retrieve picture file, R Archer one." He faced Ransom. "This snap shot was taken on twelve June 2021 from public cameras on Colonial Drive in downtown Orlando. Records of a public disturbance. No one was hurt. But downtown was brought to a standstill for a couple hours."
A picture appeared on the window. It was a group of young people, very young people, teenagers on the side of the road. They were protesting. Not military action, or corporate globalization. They were protesting what they believed to be evil itself. And they were carrying large posters. Mutilated bodies. Blood and gore. Aborted fetuses. Ransom got up and walked to the giant photograph. The tall young lanky teenage boy looked like he was trying his best to look morally outraged. But really, he looked happy. He looked like a young man of few cares. A young man who was confident in the fact that he was fighting unambiguous evil in a world that could be understood in black and white.
Ransom looked at the old man. "I was sixteen, doctor. You never did anything stupid when you were sixteen?"
"We had to be sure, Ransom. When word gets out that Seventh Day will using embryonic stem cell technology, the terrorists who are bombing abortion clinics and cell banks may come after us. We wanted to be confident that you had absolutely no ties to radical ultra-right wing fundamentalist groups."
The picture faded away allowing the bright cloudless Florida sky to shine through. Looking over the city, Ransom suddenly felt small. "So the security people trust me?"
"Yes. And now that you have top security clearance, I have one more thing to show you. I saved the best for last." Dr Dacron handed a black leather folder to Ransom. The leather had two nano-compiled precious stones set into the front, each one looked like a symbol. They were the corporate symbols for Seventh Day and The Nippon Fullerene Corporation. And underneath, one word, "Nephilim."
"This is of course, top secret." said the doctor.
Ransom flipped through the book. It appeared to be schemata of something, he wasn't sure. He saw a few pictures created with quantum gravity photography. Pictures of axons, glia, nerve cells. "What is it?"
"I took a trip to Japan a few months ago. It's amazing what those guys with Nippon Fullerene are doing over there. They have these androids that are so lifelike, you can't tell they're machines unless they're standing right in front of you. Um... anyway. Right now they are working on something... it could be the most important technology of the century, or perhaps ever."
"Human-level AI." said Ransom.
"There are many people also working towards the creation of AI. Most people, The Superhuman League for example, are of the opinion that the, top down, approach to AI research is the way to go. They observe human intelligence and then try to duplicate it through a mechanical substrate. The Japanese are about to devote a lot of time and money to what could be the greatest scientific endeavor of our time. They will attempt to create AI, a computer just as powerful, and eventually more so, than the human brain. They will do it using the, bottom up, approach. They will create circuits that will mimic the cells of the human central nervous system. They will be networked together in the same way they are in the human brain. They will essentially be reverse engineering the human brain.
"To do this, they need biologists, cytologists, neurologists, bio-physicists, people who know the human body, people who work for us. This will be the biggest cooperative project we've ever undertaken. This will be bigger than Beatrice. But we need Beatrice to do this. This has never been said in front of the conservative executive board of Seventh Day. But I'll say it now. This is our future."
Ransom's head was swimming with the implications of what the doctor was telling him. "How can you, as a Christian, sponsor this project for human-level AI? To recreate creation. Isn't this playing God?"
"We cannot stop the progress of science or the evolution of mankind. When AI comes, if it comes, no doubt there will be great moral dilemmas. What if these machine children possess souls as infinitely valuable as ours? We must put away our preconceived notions of God. God is everywhere and in everything. We must have faith that when we look towards the future, God will meet us there, just as he has met us in the past."
"Are you hoping to trigger The Singularity?" asked Ransom.
"As a Transadventist Christian, I must give thought to the Second Coming. I'm sure you've noticed the similarities between the speculations of a post-singularity world, and the hopes of the Millennial Kingdom described in the Bible. Who is to say that this is not the method by which God will establish his Kingdom?"
"But what about Armageddon?"
"I spent much time studying apocalyptic literature when I was younger. And not just the Adventist view or the Pre-millennial dispensationalist view. One thing I believe is that no man can know the day or even the nature of The Second Coming save for the very vague predictions put forth in the Bible. I believe God made his prophecies vague on purpose. So that his words will be sealed until the appointed day and time. In general, Ransom, Life never turns out the way you think it will. This is God's plan. And anyone who thinks that they can predict how God will allow history to play out is either deluded or a sinner.
"Now, Claude Virunga, as well as most Biblical scholars believe that before the Millennial Kingdom, there will be a time of great trouble never seen before. Pestilence, famine, and war."
"The Tribulation." said Ransom.
"We Transadventists believe that a Christian's job is to bring about the Kingdom, not the Tribulation. Indeed, many Christians believe that there will be no Tribulation, or that they will be spared from it when it does come. Because of all the violence he saw in his life, the Reverend Virunga couldn't accept that The Tribulation was anything but unavoidable. And he may be one hundred percent correct. But I pray with all my might that he's wrong."
Ransom stood up and handed the leather folder to Dr Dacron.
"I am finished, Ransom. Now that I've told you everything. Now that you know what's at stake. Tell me, do you want the job."
What other choice did Ransom have?
posted by Graham at 4:32 AM
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