Leo Frankowski
of messages, we recorded several months of his ravings and had them transcribed and analyzed by computer. Here is a
list of words that appear a
statistically significant number of times.”
Hastings looked down
at the list of words. Near the top were “Lord,” “Copernick,”
“Guibedo,” “Life,” and “Valley.” “Interesting,”
he said.
“I thought
you’d like it, George. Then we had the computer synthesize statistically probable
messages based
on word frequency. These aren’t real messages of course. But they are similar.”
The sheet of paper had a series of
sentences like:
“Lord
Guibedo is going to Pinecroft.”
“The
tunneling in Sector Three is completed.”
“Keep Sector Twenty-two cleared of traffic.”
“Better and
better,” Hastings said. “Get all of this over to the Sham Shop analysts.”
“Sure, George.
There are reams of the stuff. One other point—there’s a bewildering variety of
ancient and modern weapons mentioned, and in just about every language there is. We’re not sure what they
stand for, but if these are code words,
there are at least several thousand of
them.”
Chapter Six
MARCH 4, 2003
N ATURAL SELECTION generally functions
in favor of the species
rather than of the individual. Take the process of aging.
It
is obviously to the advantage of the individual to go on living forever. This is not a biological
impossibility. The processes involved in
repairing a cut finger are considerably
more complex than those involved in simply keeping the body in the same shape today that it was in
yesterday.
But individual
immortality is not in the best interests of the species. Immortal great-grandparents would soon overcrowd the species’ ecological niche. Younger
generations — containing some
individuals genetically superior to their ancestors — would tend to be
squeezed out by their more experienced progenitors. The evolutionary process would stop in that species, and it
would eventu ally be forced out of its
niche — tailed off—by some more dynamic life form.
However, as an
individual, I did not want to die. When the instrumentation to prolong my own
life became a possibility, I threw the resources of my entire corporation behind
it. Biological engineering was a natural outgrowth of this work on
rejuvenation.
There
are short-term problems with rejuvenation. Mostly social. When you look
twenty-five and have the glands of a twenty-five-year-old, you naturally want
to relate
to twenty-five-year-olds. But the youngsters of 2000 have a vastly different cultural
background from those of 1 950 . Different
morals. Different body language. The results were sometimes amusing, more
often sad.
As
to the long-term problems with rejuvenation, well, I’ll have a lot of
time to work on them.
—Heinrich Copernick
From his log tape
General Hastings
walked unannounced into the office of the NBC news chief. “Well, Norm.
You’ve come a long way from being a combat reporter.”
Norman Boswell looked
up from the papers on his cluttered desk. “Major George Hastings. No. Major General George Hastings.
You’ve come a ways, too, but you’re still a brash son-of-a-bitch. How the hell did
you get past my secretary?”
“It’s the
uniform, Norm. It gets them every time. She practically saluted.”
“She practically
saluted herself out of a job! Now, before your unfortunately hasty departure,
what the hell do you want?”
Hastings moved a
cigar box, sat on the papers on Boswell’s desk, and said, “A little
information, Norm, and a little help. I want to know more about Dr. Martin Guibedo. What can you
show me?”
“The door. It’s
over there. Get off my goddamn desk and use it.”
“Shortly,
shortly. Now, one of your employees, a Miss Patricia Cambridge, knows a lot about
Guibedo. She
has interviewed him, had dinner with him, and done a documentary on
him. I think she either knows where he is, or knows how to find him.”
“I should send a
sweet kid like Patty out on a manhunt? Bullshit! You want Guibedo? Send out
your own damn
goons!”
“My son, I’ll
tell you a secret. They’ve tried. Many times, they’ve tried.”
“That’s a
secret? Next tell me about the secret Statue of Liberty hiding in New York Harbor.
Every goddamn cop in the country carries a photo of Guibedo in his wallet! Why should your
spooks be any different? The an swer is no. I won’t do it or get Cambridge involved. Now get out
of my office!”
Hastings leaned
toward
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