9. Survival of the Fittest

Can you truly say that you're doing this just to help people? Risking your life in the exosphere.
Ransom thought, what a stupid thought. Of course.
Examine your motives. Can you truly say they are free of self interest?
...

The next week was a week of elation. Ransom has been hired for new jobs so many times, one would think that getting another job is no big deal. But this time was different. This time, he had his mind set on a career. No more irresponsibility. No more youthful capriciousness. Ransom would work. He would go to school. He would do both at the same time. He would become a productive member of the human race with a job that helps people. It was time for Ransom to become a man. At twenty-five years, it was about damn time.

He received his new hire packet in his e-mail the next day. "You are now a member of The Seventh Day family." it said. "Seventh Day Wellness is the largest health care organization in the world. We own and operate nearly eighty percent of the hospitals and health care facilities worldwide... Of the world's Big Ten corporations, Seventh Day is the only one that is not-for-profit... Seventh Day Wellness Corporation is owned by the Transadventist Church, however, we are an equal opportunity employer. Our company does not discriminate in regards to faith, creed, or denomination... Seventh Day was founded in 2014, with a single health clinic in Orlando, Florida... Seventh Day business ethic is based on biblical principles... Our corporate mission is direct fulfillment of two of the seven points of Transadventist, as expounded by the Transadventist Declaration, written by the Reverend Claude Virunga in 2012. Health Reform, treating our bodies as what they are, temples of The Holy Spirit, with each person individually taking utmost care of their personal health... Compassion for the sick and injured, diligently researching and embracing the latest medical technologies, in order to better carry on in ourselves the healing ministry of Christ... We at Seventh Day believe that all people are children of God, and each individual human life has infinite worth... We at Seventh Day do not support medical technology that does not show respect to God's creation... Sanitas Foods, a subsidiary of Seventh Day headquartered in Melbourne, Australia, is the world's largest manufacturer of organic health foods."
"This is all very interesting." said Ransom. "Server, tell me what Seventh Day Corporation can do for the cause of Superhumanism."
His server answered, "Ransom, the word 'superhumanism' does not appear anywhere in file titled 'new hire packet.' There is one find where similar terminology is used."
"Well let me see it."
"When the advent of Christ comes, we will be transformed." It was Claude Virunga speaking. "Do not think that humanity will stay the same. We will be changed in the blink of an eye. We will become the New Man. And we will no longer be dependent on flesh and blood. We will no longer be bound to time, because we will have direct communion with an eternal, timeless God."
"Server, I'm not looking for religious rhetoric. Show me any information about the cytology labs."
"Seventh Day Wellness Corporation is one of the leading pioneers in the field of cytology. In recent years, the life expectancy in America has jumped nearly two decades. Experts credit this explosion of longevity to advances in medical cytology. Cytology, or medical treatment at the cellular level has given life, and life more abundantly to those who were given no hope from older medical technologies."
A large muscular man appeared on the video window. "Hi. I'm Yusuf Chakir, a running back for the Miami Dolphins. Four years ago, I was in a car accident that I thought would end my football career. My knees were ruined. I needed therapy just to walk afterward. But today, I'm winning Super Bowls thanks to Seventh Day Wellness.
"Seventh Day is the world leader in adult stem cell technology. With old school medicine, my knees would have never been the same. But using the newest treatments available on the planet, the doctors at Seventh Day took cells from my own body and grew new ligaments, cartilage, and tissue necessary to rebuild what that accident took away from me. And would you believe? I'm better, stronger, than I was before? And I owe it all to the cytology labs of Seventh Day, were they diligently pursue new healing technologies, all the while showing respect to God's creation."
Rather than contain any useful information about what the company actually did, the new hire packet was just a pitch to tell people what a wonderful corporation they had just joined. Sure, the packet contained plenty of helpful facts about the myriad of benefits and programs available to Seventh Day employees. But Ransom wasn't worried about that. He had ninety days of the nine-to-five grind before he was eligible for any benefits. And it would be a whole year before the company would pay for his school. Ransom closed the new hire packet and filed it away for later.

"Don't spill a single drop of that nano-chromatic chameleon paint! It costs three hundred dollars a gallon. Every bit wasted is less money for us."
"Yes Dad, I know." said Ransom. "I was there when you bought it, remember?"
"Just making sure you know." said the elder Archer. He turned and left to get a fresh fuel cell for one of the air compressors.
Ransom's enthusiasm for his new job had cooled quickly. He was already regarding his job with pessimism, and he hadn't even begun working. He still had a week left before his first day. To get some extra money, he agreed to help his father with a one time painting job, a house, almost a mansion, in Haines City. It was owned by, coincidentally, a doctor of cytology. The doctor wanted his house coated with nano-chromatic paint so he could make it change colors with the seasons, or whatever.

Ransom was over twenty-one years of age, and had no criminal record or history of mental illness. According to the Drug Legalization Act of 2020, Ransom was authorized to purchase, without prescription, any narcotic, any mood-altering or mind-altering substance, any drug except antibiotics or antivirals, as long as it was for his personal use only. He and his father had passed a convenience store on the way to the job site.

Ransom wondered, what if this job turns out to be a dead end, like every other job he's ever had. What if they don't let him go to school like he wants. What if he can't get that job in the cytology labs. What if he can go to school, but he can't deal with the stress of working and going to school at the same time.
The "what-ifs" bled from the pessimistic, glass-half empty side of his brain. He was tumbling in to depressed valley whose depth matched, if not exceded the height of the peak of elation he reached after getting the new job. The sudden onset of depression actually took Ransom by surprise. He was tempted to go to the convenience store and get some chemical relief. Nothing to strong. A low dosage heroin cap would suffice. If that was to much, maybe he could buy a joint. No. He didn't want his thoughts scrambled. He just needed to feel good for a bit.

Ransom's father was complaining about his car. They had just raised gasoline prices again. He was finally relenting of his old ways and admitting that he should break down and go electric like everyone else. Ransom's mind was elsewhere.
Ransom thought about the big fat eugenicist he met at the Superhuman League. What if he were partially right? What if heredity played a larger part of our intellect than we were willing to admit?
Ransom looked at his father. He cared about the old man. He loved his mother too. But it would be a lie to say that they were the best parents. They were barely able to keep a roof over the heads of Ransom, his brothers and his sisters. He remembered how often his father was without work. He remembered going to the mission to get free food. He remembered when his mother told them to start packing, they were moving tomorrow out of their apartment and into a trailer park where they charge rent by the week, not the month. He remembered the summer they lived for free in that home that was owned by their church. That house had no air conditioning. Luckily, that summer wasn't so bad as far as Florida summers go.
How much was Ransom his father's son?

An amphetamine inhaler or a hyper-caffeinated energy drink would brush away every negative thought from his mind. But it would make him jumpy, skittish. Painting is a boring job that requires patience. Some codeine syrup would make him feel better. Or maybe some endorphinated chocolate milk. That milk from genetically modified cows contained a small amount of pain alleviating endorphins.

On a particularly long unbroken space of wall, Ransom began to think about Ken. He thought about how they would bullshit around, and how Ken could make him laugh. How he would always try to make Ken laugh. One time, Ken did this impression of this popular yet lame British actor. Ransom laughed the hardest he'd ever laughed in his entire laugh. He laughed so hard, he couldn't breath. He had tears running down his eyes. Presently, Ransom could feel the non-joyful tears welling up. If his father came around the corner of the house, he could just say it was the paint fumes.
It was just so God Damn unfair.

In the end, Ransom decided to buy no drug. He would let the pain come. He would let it spread from his mind until it became actual physical pain that he could feel in his chest. He would revel in the pain. Get high on the pain. Feel it squeeze his lungs, like a good hit of oxycodone. The pain would cut him. Scrape against him. It would sharpen his mind to perfect clarity. He could see the world how it really was. Life is suffering. Unless a seed dies and falls to the ground, yada, yada.

On his first day on the job, Ransom got to marvel at his own prescience as he manned the gate to the hospital parking garage. The Security and Safety Department was supposed to train him for forty hours before he did anything. Company policy. But they were so short of help that they decided to let Ransom do his job for a few weeks, and then train him on how to do his job. Genius.
It was very boring.

Ransom hadn't seen Jesse in weeks. Every time he went to see her to tell her the good news about his new job, the door to her fortress of solitude was locked. He kept getting the same message, "Busy with school."After three weeks, he realized that he really missed her. He left her a simple text message asking, what's up?

The thought occurred to Ransom that Jesse might be highly unimpressed by Ransom's new job. Jesse is so smart and industrious, she would be guaranteed an awesome job once she graduated. And here the best Ransom could do is score an entry level job doing brain dead unskilled work that a robot would soon be able to do, if robots aren't advanced enough to do it already. But should any of that matter? Jesse liked him when he worked an unskilled job at General Telepresence. She liked him even better when he was unemployed. what did Jesse really think of him? How did Ransom feel about her?

The next day, Ransom found the door to her office open. Open to him, at least.
The moment he saw her, he new something was wrong. She never used emotion filters with Ransom anymore. She was just floating there, staring into space. Damn, she looked so good. She was wearing her superhero outfit. Her cape flowed down her back like the wings of a seraph. "I can't talk long, Ransom. I really should be working."
"I haven't seen you in a few weeks. How are you?"
"I'm crippled and stressed. How about you?"
Oh boy. Ransom decided against his better judgment that it was his job to cheer her up. After all, she had always had the power to cheer him up somehow. "Jesse, what's wrong?"
"I really don't want to talk about it, Ransom."
"But..."
"No, please. Not about my pathetic life. Tell me about yours."
"Okay. I got a new job."
"That's great, Ransom. It really is."
"I work for Seventh Day Wellness now. I'm still a security guard. But I'm going to transfer to the cytology labs someday."
"Cool."
"I think it is." said Ransom. "The labs in Orlando are some of the most advanced in the world."
"I know. I've been there."
"You have? Cool. They're coming up with all kinds of new treatments and therapies using stem cell technology."
She was staring him straight in the eyes. He could tell what she was thinking. Don't you dare mention spinal cord injury.
"I just think it's really amazing. What they're capable of these days." said Ransom
"Ransom, I understand that it's your job now. But I find the medical field horribly uninteresting. Medicine has failed me. I really don't like discussing it."
"Yeah, but..."
"Ransom! I've discussed this ad nauseam with people much smarter than you. Okay?"
"I, uh... I gotta go. Be right back."

He peeled off his telepresence goggles and quickly paced around the room. Nice going, Ransom. She raises her voice a little and you run away like a scared little boy. Chances are her door will be locked when you return.
Why was she acting this way? Why was she lashing out at him? Didn't she know that he was on her side? Didn't she know that he got this job for her?
No. He couldn't say that. He can't even think such a heresy. He did not get this job for her. He dare not put that weight on her conscience. He dare not have the arrogance to think he could be her savior. He got this job for himself. To do something worthwhile with his life, in order to benefit his soul. And if someday, somehow, however unlikely, he's able to benefit Jesse, all the better.
He looked in the mirror and steeled himself. Come on, Ransom. You're not a teenager. You know how to talk to females. Okay, so you've never dealt with a girl with this magnitude of emotional baggage before. But you can do it. Don't be stupid. Don't be arrogant. Don't be afraid. Get in there and make her feel better about herself. Use your powers for good.

"Welcome back." she said.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"Sorry for leaving."
"Oh."
"Jesse, you've been neglecting the Superhuman League Forum."
"Yeah, I know. I'm thinking of getting rid of it. Giving it to someone else who can give it the time it deserves."
"What? You love this place."
"What's the point?" said Jesse. "It's too childish. No one takes it seriously with all the comic book crap on the walls. Besides, there are plenty of forums dedicated to the cause of Superhumanism out there."
"And none of them are moderated by you."
"So?"
"You're really passionate about this. You really believe in working towards superhumanity."
"I believe it because I have to." she said. "Every girl needs a dream. I can't very well become a model, or a star tennis player. I wish I could just get a normal job and get by on my looks. I'd be brain dead, but I'd be happy."
"You would not be happy. You're too intelligent. You would inevitably become dissatisfied knowing that you're not doing what you want to do with your life."
"How do you know if what I want isn't determined by random events and dumb luck? If fate had not have screwed me over, I could have been completely satisfied with all the things my parents want for me. A well adjusted paraplegic with a high paying job, a husband, kids, and all the other bourgeois American dream nonsense."
Jesse moved closer to the ceiling. She was floating, swimming on the columns of air. She faced away from Ransom as she spoke. Her voice was projected by the room's virtual acoustics. "Of course, there's nothing wrong with that, really." she said.
Ransom could not go to her. He was held firmly to the ground by the physics Jesse chose for the forum. "Jesse, tell me what's happening."
She considered it for a moment. "I'm, uh... I'm on academic probation. I'm failing public speaking, one-oh-one. And my parents are threatening to pull their financial backing."
"I can't see someone as intelligent as you failing a freshman public speaking course." said Ransom.
"I hate public speaking. I can't stand standing, well, not standing, but being in front of a crowd. I've never been able to do it. I'm afraid of crowds."
"Jesse, I've seen you speak in front of an audience before. You're good."
"That was telepresence. I've suggested we do our speeches in telepresence, but my prof has the shockingly unprogressive idea that telepresence isn't quote, unquote, real. If virtual reality were real, it would be called reality, she says. What a bitch."
"And now you're on academic probation."
She had been doing the back-float, facing the transparent ceiling, looking at the stars as she talked. She turned over and faced him, but she wouldn't look him in the eyes. "They only put you on academic probation after you fail. I'm on academic probation because I failed a drug test.
Ransom was silent for a moment. His mouth was the letter "o." "You take drugs?"
"I have been, on and off, ever since I was shot. I became addicted after the series of surgeries I went through. I went to NA for a year. I trusted in the help of my higher power, which was the Tiplerite Eschaton. I stopped going once I felt I had it under control. I temporarily start taking again whenever I feel like I'm going through a stressful period."
Ransom looked at the floor, "I never knew... How seriously does your school treat drug use?"
"Pretty seriously. A couple dumbasses od'ed and died last year. And the school doesn't want liability. Zero tolerance for all students. I've been able to avoid drug testing so far because I'm not totally above using my situation for sympathy in certain cases. But a couple weeks ago, one of the admins wanted to prove he was completely free of liberal guilt and he stuck a biowand in my mouth. They didn't buy my excuse about having a poppy seed bagel for lunch."
Ransom must have been looking at her funny, because she said, "Don't look at me like that Ransom. It's not like you haven't done drugs before."
"But I can put the drugs away at any time." he said. "I guess I have a non-addictive personality. That's not... I just thought I knew you. You've managed to hide a major part of your personality from me, again."
"I'm not proud of the fact I use. But I'm not ashamed. You want me to apologize?"
"No." he said. "But all of those times I talked to you about Ken."
"Your friend is a totally different situation. I am not suicidal. Do you really think that I am?"
"I didn't say that." Ransom changed the subject. "So because of this your parents will pull your financial backing."
"Yeah."
"And what's so bad about that? Will you have to return your robot car?" Ransom cringed. His tone made the question sound rhetorical and harshly sarcastic.
But Jesse didn't seem to notice. "Oh no. They wouldn't return my car. They paid way too much for the customizations. What they want to do is pull me out of school here and make me attend some place in SoFlo, where they can keep a close eye on me. God! They will never let me grow up. They don't understand. No one does."
Ransom said nothing.
"They're absolutely mortified about me using again. They think this is the first time I've used since I stopped attending NA meetings. My father would go nuts if he new of how much I really do.
"So since I failed to live up to their high standards of moral hygiene, now everything I do is suspect. They think that failing my public speaking course is directly related to my so-called drug problem. I tell them that I'm afraid of public speaking. They don't believe me. I tell them that I can get over my phobia if I put my mind to it, but I don't have the time because of all the time I spend in my Theoretical AI Psychology class. And now, get this, they want to know why I spend so much of my time on one class. Can you believe that? I mean, I can handle skepticism over the Singularity. But why can't my parents understand that this is my life? Why can't they understand how much this means to me?"
"I don't know." said Ransom.
"They want to know why I spend so much time in telepresence in my forum. They think it's a waste of time. I told them how impressed my Prof was when he visited the site. And now, and now, my father thinks Professor Ray is a bad influence on me. Professor Ray is a genius. If anyone can create a true AI, it's him."
"Professor Ray is your AI Psychology prof, right?"
She looked like she'd just received a great insult. "Ransom! Professor Ray. I talk about him all the time. I showed you that video of him, once."
"Yeah but... I forgot his name..." Change subject. "Jesse, is there any way you can stay at your school without out your parents' money? I thought that you told me that you went to school on a scholarship."
"Yeah, I have an egg scholarship from United Cell and Clone. I can't lose that, even if I fail every class I take."
"An egg scholarship?"
"Yeah, you know, I donate eggs, and they pay for my school." said Jesse.
"I know what it is. I just didn't know you could..."
"Oh. Yeah. Well as fucked up as my body is, it can still produce viable eggs. I just can't have children. The egg scholarship is generous. But it can't support the out-of-state fees. I need my dad to cover the rest of the bill, or it's back to SoFlo I go."
"Is there any other source of money available to you. Are you eligible for any other scholarships?"
"I've been looking." she said. "I've been racking my brain trying to think of another money source. But it's hard. I'm trying to pass public speaking, and I still have lots of work to do for AI Psychology. And I've just never been good with money. I hate thinking about money. It's so vulgar."
Easy for you too say, thought Ransom. "Well, can you get your parents to change their minds?"
"I think there's a chance I can persuade them if I pass my speaking course."
"I believe in you." Ransom couldn't help but detect the insincerity in his voice. In the back of his mind, a caustic voice was deriding her. This is why she's so upset? This is why she shut him and everyone else out? Because she's not allowed to abuse narcotics? Because she can't go to school exactly where she wants? Because mommy and daddy won't let her get away with wasting money on an easy class that she won't even bother to pass? Because she's going to be inconvenienced? She prolly doesn't even realize how spoiled she sounds. Ransom couldn't believe that this was the same girl that kept him up at night thinking about her. He could almost say that he was disgusted. Didn't she realize how many people out there would love to go to school anywhere? With all bills paid? And with all the problems in the world, with people dying in terrorist attacks, how could this upset her so?
And then it hit him. The reason that she worries about the small things, is that the big things are too much to think about. She has experienced a world of pain that he can't imagine. Ransom felt ashamed. He had no right to judge her.
"Come on, Jesse. You don't even believe your own words."
"Huh?" she said.
"You're always saying how virtuality is becoming more important, and how it's becoming increasingly irrelevant where our flesh and blood is located. So why does it matter if you go to school in Mass or in SoFlo?"
She mulled it over for a moment. "You have a point. I can do most of what I'm doing in SoFlo with no regards to geography. But still, we haven't reached a place where location is nothing. And the world's best AI research lab is here in Mass. The Singularity could be triggered right here. And to some people, the location of the flesh is still very important."
Ransom smirked. "You got that right."
"Um, I was talking about my parents. They're old-fashioned. Great geographical distance between me and them can be, uh, it can prevent strife."
"Are your parents really so bad?"
"They are just completely overbearing. They've always treated me like a child. Even before I was attacked. The distance between them is healthy for me really. They can't drop by unexpectedly. And they don't use telepresence. If they want to talk to me, they use voice. Or even worse, or better, depending on how you look at it, they use archaic instant messaging."
"Instant message? No kidding? With emoticons and everything?"
"Ugh! Those stupid sideways smilies. I hate them. They are so uncool." She smiled, for the first time tonight.
"You know, your parents don't sound so bad. They love you, don't they?"
"Yes Ransom. They're good people. After I was shot, they were there, twenty-four seven. And when I was going through the most painful rehabilitation, my father was destroyed. He said he hated seeing me go through it. He said he thought about suicide. I sometimes think that getting shot hurt him more than it hurt me.
" But I would like some independence. I am twenty-three years old. It's about time. And I love Professor Ray. I would hate to leave him."
"Well then pass that public speaking course. You can do it."
"I don't know... Oh, Ransom, what's wrong with me?"
"Nothing is wrong with you."
"How can I do so well in a really difficult course and not even pass a freshman course. I mean, everybody in my Theoretical AI Psychology class hates me because I set the curve on every exam. Did you know that I failed high school?"
"Huh?" he said.
"If I was any other student, I wouldn't have graduated. I didn't have enough credits. I should have been held back senior year. But the school bent over backwards making concessions for me. They even wanted me to speak at graduation. But I didn't, of course."
This was the first time Ransom had ever heard her express a lack of confidence. He wondered if she had been strong and confident all this time up until now. Or maybe this was the first time she felt really comfortable with him. "Jesse, you're the most intelligent girl I know."
"Get lost."
"Hey, do you know everyone I know?"
"If you think I'm so smart then why must you always disagree with me?"
"What better way to look smart than to argue with the smartest girl in the forum?"
"You mean you weren't doing it just to piss me off?"
"That too. You're beautiful when you're angry."
"Oh, jeez." Jesse had slowly been floating closer to the floor. At this point, she was close enough to touch him. And she did. She put a hand on his face. Ransom regretted with all his might that it was only two telepresent avatars touching and wished to God that he could feel that hand in the future. He changed his POV, so he could see Jesse and himself from the side. What a handsome couple, he thought. "I really do feel better now, Ransom. I have to go now. You take care." She blew him a kiss.

Ransom cared for Jesse. He wanted nothing but her happiness.
Is that true?
Of course, thought Ransom. I spent all that time trying to cheer her up. And he would have spent more time, stayed up all night, if necessary. He didn't consider himself a hero. But for all he knew, his edifying counsel could have given her more of the confidence she needed to succeed. Because more than anything, Ransom wanted her to succeed.
But that's not true.
The truth was, Ransom wanted her to fail. He wanted her to fail. He wanted her close by, in SoFlo.
So what? Thought Ransom. If she did fail, it would be her fault. All Jesse would remember was that Ransom did everything he could to build up her confidence. If she passed, good for her. If she didn't, then all the better.