Tag Archives: high tech

Technomology: The Wizard

His hands never shook. It was something to do with bootlegging the Conduit in his brain throughout his body. The Conduit allowed him permanent mental access to the Web. That was not remarkable. Everyone with a Conduit had that. But, bootlegging the Conduit meant that he could ‘Deep Dive’ without needing a physical jack and while maintaining consciousness.

Imagine being able to dream on demand with your eyes open, and those around you could be affected by that dream? He was the Wizard of Oz, but instead of the Emerald City, he had the dual mental states of Surface and Deep Web.

The couple sitting in front of him was wide-eyed as he told them things that they thought he could never know: how she had cried after the baby had died, and how he had grown disassociative and run too many escapism apps through his Conduit. He sat before them while he slipped through big data fields, flicking out search algorithms and stalking through their app setups. He lifted his hand up to trawl through some files while, in front of the couple, his physical hand moved in mystical patterns in the air. He stopped at the file he was looking for, and his physical hand stopped moving too. He was both sitting in this dim room with the couple, and standing next to blazing encrypted databases that were whispering secrets into his ears.

“When you leave here, you will see a planetary shuttle. Get on it and go where it is going. Be open to new experiences, but close the door on old ones. Drink the tea and eat the biscuit, before the wine. Do not be scared of being scared and, Jenny, don’t worry, you will soon get what you want,” the last part almost made him laugh, it was his winning formula. Humans were never as unique or different as they liked to think. He briefly wondered if he still considered himself human? He could not actually remember ever being one anymore.

The lady gasped and the man leaned back, wide-eyed. They paid their Units and then they left.

They would catch that planetary shuttle. It was going to New Paris where they would wander before finding a hotel. While in the Deep Web, he had embedded a geo-trigger into their Conduits that would go off in any hotel. It was a minor hack but socially engineered for an optimal response. Its notification would get the hotel to bring them a certain tea that helped circulation and libido while the sugar biscuit made sure that they were not too tired and the wine helped ease inhibitions…

The rest was biology; she was due to start ovulating mid-flight.

It was not magic that he sold them, it part digital sleight-of-hand, part psychology and–if he admitted it to himself–also part showmanship.

As they walked out the door, he turned around to stare at a blank wall. Had he ever been born? He found himself wondering… He could feel data flowing by him, but the cold, blank wall allowed his biological eyes to look at something real and kept his mind from Deep Running away in the Web.

***

“Wiz, hey, Wiz, you still with us,” a gruff voice penetrated his consciousness and slowly the flowing lights and oceans of data streams receded into a blank wall in a square room with a noisy aircon rattling in the corner.

“Yessss,” he breathed out, his bodily functions appeared to have run sufficiently on the apps while he zoned out, “Yes, I am.”

He stood and turned around. His assistant, Luke, was there. Actually, Luke was more a caretaker and a salesman, actually. He needed someone around him that dealt with frustrating Slow World and kept him from falling fully into the Quick World of data.

“Right, what do we have next?” he asked, sensing the answer already.

“Uh, Wiz, well there is a couple–” his assistant answered before he cut him off.

“Show them in,” he said, already scanning the data stream outside, he could see their Conduits, which led to their names, and back into their entire lives…

***

Luke closed the door behind the couple and walked outside for a smoke. The Wizard’s apartment was just outside of the center of town and overlooked a river that flowed by. He liked the view, but mostly he just found the inside of that apartment bare, boring and mildly depressing.

How could a guy do that to himself? Luke would never understand, but then again he supposed that the guy did not actually do it to himself.

A flashing light and soft ping in his brain’s simulation of the inner ear told him that he was being called. It was the office. He pulled on his smoke and then flicked it off the roof, before thinking to answer the call and his Conduit did the rest.

“Luke, what’s the status?” his superior’s voice streamed straight into his cortex.

“The Wiz’s working an appointment, we had another one earlier this morning,” Luke paused and took out another cigarette, thank god cancer was cured he thought, “Uh, that’s bout it.”

There was a grunt of acknowledgment on the other side of the line. Luke could hear the faint crackle of encryption on the line. The office was getting increasingly paranoid these days.

“Right, when he’s done with the couple, bring him in. We have a job for him.”

Luke grunted confirmation and the office hung up. He finished his cigarette and, through the window, saw the couple leaving the room. They looked shocked. The woman was crying and the man was almost holding her up. The appointment must have gone well.

He flicked the cigarette off the roof. It was time to get the Wizard to the Boss. After all, the Boss owned the Wizard and all the hardware they had put in him. The Boss had owned the Wizard ever since the Wizard had owed the Boss money.

Luke walked back inside the apartment and inside the Wizard’s bare room. The Wizard was sitting with his back to the door staring at the blank wall again. Why did he do that, Luke wondered? Drunk on perma-data like some cheap data-junkie, Luke thought. But, at least it made him easy to transport, as Luke slipped a sedative out of his pocket and readied it for injection into the Wizard’s neck.

“I bet you regret owing the mafia money, eh Wiz?” Luke muttered, “But then again, you probably don’t even remember after the memory whipe, eh, do you?”

Technomology: Full Disclosure

A priority notification gets through his filter and blinks in his peripheral vision. The incoming message is from his kid, probably wanting something. He mutes it and puts his Conduit’s inbox on ‘busy’. He needs to focus right now.

The man sitting in front of him at the restaurant wears an expensive suit. His bodyguards standing on either side of him are also dressed in expensive suits, but that does little to hide their size. They each probably have military-grade bio-enhancements making them deadlier. His Conduit scans them and he–on reflex more than on a conscious decision–begins to file their personal details away for later use.

“Please, sir, I have a family and kids,” the man in the suit is pleading with him, his security guards looking on awkwardly; they have probably never seen such a man grovel before. They probably will not again, either. “I have fixed everything, so can we please let bygones be bygones, sir?”

“Yes,” he says leaning forward and sipping his glass his wine, “Yes, you have. One last favour and then we’ll be square the two of us.”

“Yes, yes, anything. Now, what can the Saturn Mafia do for you?”

The well-dress man listens intently while nodding vigorously. Most of life is now online and most people have no idea how vulnerable that makes them. This man has just discovered that out, and he will be more careful next time. But, you always remember the first time you are hacked, and so will he.

Later that solar cycle, the blogger is on another planet. The VIP starship from the hotel he is staying at shuttled him there after the gang meeting. His online following reaches in the billions and spans the galaxy, so the unwritten expectation is that he will geo-tag or mention where he is staying. If he does, he knows it will be worth the hotel’s while. Forget rock stars or movie stars, app’s and AI made those professions redundant aeons ago. Bloggers are the pinnacle of the celebrity world now, and pornstars. But, mostly bloggers, as tech cannot replicate a witty opinion.

“Incredible what they did there, don’t you think?” says the beautiful lady next to him, referring to a newsflow beaming from some media-pod orbiting Saturn.

He turns around, a drink in his hand, and smiles. She is absolutely gorgeous with a low-cut dress, caramel skin and dark hair. He can pick up faint traces of optical enhancement apps running in the background of her Conduit. But, even if her appearance is being airbrushed, she is still incredibly beautiful.

“Yes, incredible,” his smile disappears and voice gets serious, “But you know who I am, so what do you want and who sent you?”

She does not lose a beat and smiles, reaching out and touch his hand. Her touch is light and warm. She is very good. She has done this before.

“The hotel sent me. They just want you to have a good time here. Can I get you another drink?”

She leaves quietly after they have sex. He is married, but that is not important now. Only later, when she replays the stream will she find out that her recording of their intimacies was blocked by him. He also put a small Multi-tool Virus in her, which will track her movement, record her communications and offers him a backdoor for later use, adding her to his botnet.

While she did register in the hotel’s employee lists, he was pretty certain that someone else had paid her for those services.

Outside, a red horizon is meeting the three sunrises this planet experienced every full solar cycle. The horizon was flatter than most planets, given this planet’s size, but its core was relatively light and thus the gravity was not a probably for his biology.

A priority notification blinked in his peripheral vision. It was his kid. He sighed, sat up in bed and answered it.

“Dad, Dad,” his kid’s voice rang in his mind, through the VPN Voip app that they were communicating through, “where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for over a day!”

“Sorry, kiddo,” he thought and the words flowed from this mind across the VPN and into his kid’s mind many millions of miles away on a neighbouring planet in their living room, “I had an urgent meeting for the blog, and then I had to do a site visit at a hotel on this planet. What’s the matter? Is Mom there or can I help?”

“Dad, Mom’s dead. She died like two days ago.”

Over a week later, he was walking away from the funeral. He thought it was strange that despite all the world’s scientific advances, people were still buried in a box in the ground. His kid was at his side, his gaze cast down and silent. He softly probed his kid’s Conduit, but the firewalls were firmly up and he felt a bit bad about using the backdoor apps he had there to find out what his kid was thinking.

“Hi-hi, I’m sorry. Excuse me, sir, can I ask you a couple of questions?”

A media pod with a woman’s face beaming on it was floating just above them. It was a priority media pod, thousands of the others could not get this close and where hoving like flies just a mile or two up. This pod’s camera was pointing directly at him and a ‘LIVE FEED’ banner scrolling over its front piece.

“Sorry, kiddo, give me a moment here,” he said and turned to the camera with a beautifully haunting look on his face–a picture perfect look of grief for the camera’s, “What do you want to know at my wife’s funeral?”

The journalist was unperturbed by his act and shot a single question back at him, “Can you please confirm that you gave the Saturn Mafia the order to murder your wife? Their gang leader came forward to us with recorded testimony to this fact. How do you respond?”

He was startled. That was quick! He thought he would have a few days before someone would approach him directly.

He took a deep breath, looked at his kid. He did not know how this would affect their relationship, but it was worth the risk. He then turned back to the camera and smiled: “Yes, I did, but let me tell you my story.”

Inside, he was smiling. With each rehearsed word, the hits on his blog were skyrocketing. Each well-written sentence of his tale was pushing up the search results. He was now trending across the galaxy, and notifications were beginning to flood in and meme’s popping up everywhere. He might have been a minor celebrity blogger with some hacking skills before, but now he was a media god.

And gods never go to jail.