The ELI Event B007R5LTNS

officials. Why come to me?”
    Lokus’s eyes narrowed; he took a step forward, his face mere inches from the Science Minister’s. “Don’t make me spell it out, Rasel,” he hissed. His voice dropped to a whisper as he played his final card. “What if this laboratory is not secure?”
    At last Rasel folded. He looked furtively about the room, clearly aghast at the very suggestion that his own laboratory might be under surveillance. He nodded stiffly. “Very well. Come with me.”
    Lokus followed Rasel from the laboratory to his private office. Rasel locked the door and wordlessly crossed to the back wall. He placed his open palm upon a recessed sensor. Half the wall silently slid away, revealing a compact but beautifully equipped lab. He motioned Lokus inside; as the panel slid shut after them, he finally spoke.
    “This room, I assure you, is secure.” He smiled, but the ubiquitous smugness was gone, replaced by something more like simple pride of accomplishment. “Now, Lokus, let us be candid with one another. What exactly is it you need?”
    Lokus got to the point. “I know you’re working on an unauthorized project, a direct mind link to the Net. I need to use it.”
    Rasel put forth no more pretense. “Why?” he asked simply.
    “Because I need its power and speed. I don’t know when the event in question occurred. In truth, I don’t even know what the event is—was. All I have is a vague idea of what it might be, based on information from… former colleagues.
    “I believe, however, that I know enough to locate it through the Net. But conventional search methods would take far too long, if they succeeded at all. I need results right now, and I think your device can get them for me.”
    “It’s completely unauthorized.”
    “I know.”
    “It’s still experimental.”
    “I don’t care.”
    “It’s also quite dangerous.”
    “In what way?”
    “Here, I’ll show you.” He led Lokus to the far corner of the room and indicated a large, padded gurney, complete with restraints. On the gurney was a shiny metal helmet and visor, attached to a variety of sensors, monitors, and other instruments by a multitude of cables.
    Rasel lifted the obviously heavy helmet and turned it over. The inside was studded with dozens of small protrusions that appeared to be quite sharp.
    “Yes,” Lokus admitted, “that looks… uncomfortable.”
    “Oh, it is, but that’s not the dangerous part,” Rasel said grimly. “The danger is to the subject’s brain during the connection.”
    “How so?”
    “The Net comprises virtually every computer on the planet, from corporate and government mainframes to personal information devices and implanted chips. The data in any computer on earth is instantly available to any other through trillions of wireless connections. By definition, then, the Net has—or more accurately, is —every conceivable scrap of information in the human experience. Everything we know, everything we do, everything we have ever known or done since the dawn of history is a fundamental part of the Net.”
    “Granted. Continue.”
    “The sensors in this helmet allow brain signals to pass directly to the Net, without going through any sort of filter. The Net, in turn, responds to those signals and passes back all information relevant to the user’s current thought processes through the original sensors, augmented by auditory and visual feedback, again without filters. It isn’t that complex, really.”
    “Where is the danger, then?”
    “There are two main areas of risk. One is the sheer volume of returned data. Remember, the Net instantly passes back absolutely everything it has on a given subject. No sorting algorithm, no relevance ranking, just everything it has on what you’re thinking about. Most of us simply aren’t capable of processing that much information that quickly. Apart from the obvious problem of simply missing the desired information, the mere attempt to assimilate the data can easily lead to true sensory overload, which in turn can cause brain damage.”
    Lokus nodded. “And the other?”
    “The other and more serious risk is subject matter. A user must closely control his thoughts, focus exclusively on the desired material, without letting his mind wander, particularly toward life-threatening subjects. Such a lapse of concentration can be extremely hazardous. Severe injury can result, even death,” Rasel said solemnly.
    Lokus was skeptical. “Are you saying that