Chapter 1
Humans have always been too smart for their own good. Well, in some ways. Technology we develop fast; human nature doesn’t change. Our neurology has not changed for thousands of years. Yet, we have technology of the gods. The power to end worlds. The power to oppress.
In my early childhood, information was processed slowly. Naturally. Our technology was limited by how fast we could search something up. The data stream from knowledge to mind was mediated through our fingertips.
Technology had always come in waves. There’d be nothing and then, before you know it, the world is a completely different place. You used to reach for your phone, like a reflex: “Just google it”. It became a phantom limb. My mum would get furious at my dad when he would get up and answer a business call at family dinner, or to look something up.
There’s a lot less talking now. It just isn’t necessary. I suppose that started to fade out a long time ago - but, there’s less of it now. I was in the car, on my way to my first year of highschool when I first heard about Neuralmatter. My friend excitedly sent me a link:
BREAKING! Neuralmatter set to release Neural-Net V1 on 13th May 2031:
The Neuralmatter has passed its 3rd round of human testing and has been approved by FDA for public release. Neuralmatter was the first company to discover liveware. A synthetic programmable living tissue that can extend human cognition.
At the time, I didn’t think much of it. There had been plenty of claims in the past that a new piece of technology would change everything. But, it never really did. Nothing drastic. Who would allow a company to implant something in their brains?
I’ll never forget the day I walked into my high-school’s common room and saw a crowd. I pushed my way through, and joined some friends at the front. There was one of the rich kids in the middle, he had a satisfied smile on his face.
”Show us what it does” cheered a boy, the crowd rallied.
The boy looked at a TV mounted on the wall, the heads of the crowd followed. Nothing much happened at first but then the TV pixelated and turned black; the TV turned on, except, it wasn’t showing the same picture it had before. A video played showing the faces of the people in the crowd. The boy smiled, the TV sparked and caught flame. The crowd cheered but dispersed when the fire alarm blared.
I went home that day and begged my parents to get one. They said we couldn’t spare the credits. I knew we couldn’t but it still hurt. Within a couple years, half my classmates had a Neural Net. Teachers allowed them free periods since they could download the course material. The rest of us had to study, the old fashioned way. I got my first Neural Net when i was 18. It’s only a day surgery and doesn’t leave any marks. A robotic surgeon is the only way it can be installed. My vision was different after. I felt different. There was something inside of me. A foreign object. The organic part of my brain cried out that something wasn’t right - something it couldn’t comprehend.
Torna sat in her office chair, her were eyes slits of concentration. She sat in front of a desk enclosed in a cubicle. The desk was bare, except for a paper thin monitor which stretched across the desk. The side of Tornas’ head was illuminated in green light indicating that her Neural Net was interfacing with the computer. The word editor was open on the monitor and had text running down at rapid speeds. Her hands sat upon her lap in fists.
Torna winced, blood flowed from her nose. There was a quiet beep and the light on her temple turned from green to red.
Fuck this is still happening. I only just had this stupid thing fixed. I cant afford this right now
Torna’s Neural Net 3 years old and outdated. It had been a decade since Neuramatter changed society as it was. A chip comprised of biological liveware that once installed into the nervous system allowed the user to interface with compatible technologies. It’s initial release saw havoc unleashed upon society. At first, there were cases of ATM hacking - it wasn’t long before smart cars were driving off roads with passengers onboard. In order to be on the same playing field, the government needed to employ its own liveware. Neuramatter became the leading tech company in the world.
But, it was discovered that Neural Nets had a design flaw. It was a risk to upgrade a Neural Net. For some a neural Net could become so integrated brain, the tendrils of the liveware would be so deeply tangled in their brain that upgrading would be fatal.
Torna stood up and walked to her manager’s office. The door was closed, she gave three raps with her knuckle. She heard no response but slowly opened the door. Mike was seated and facing away from the door - talking to the wall. He turned his head in her direction, span around and held up a finger to her. Torna could see his iris was completely white. Mike continued to chuckle and talk.
Torna raised her hand to her temple. She wanted to hunch over in pain. Mike finished said goodbye to his caller and the light on the side of his head went red. He turned to face Torna and said:
“What is it now Torna, we’re very busy."
"My Neural Net is giving me trouble again. I don’t know if I can keep working today, Sir.” she said through clenched teeth.
Mike put on a smile riddled with condescension.
”The company will pay for another. You can’t just keep missing work like this.”
Torna paused for a moment, “You know that I can’t. I can’t risk it. I’ve got my daughter to think about."
"The doctors don’t know what they’re talking about. I upgrade all the time."
"I can’t, sir."
"Well, It won’t matter anyway. My father is retiring soon. I wouldn’t get comfortable here”, he chuckled.
Mike swiveled back around on his chair and resumed his call - he held up a hand and waved Torna away. Torna stormed back to her desk and switched off the monitor before heading to the elevator. The elevator doors opened and Torna stepped in. The light on the side of her temple went green and Torna visualised the words ground floor. The elevator doors closed and descended.
What am I going to do? I cant risk losing my job, I’ve got Jaj to think of. There’s no time to feel sorry for myself.
Torna’s head pounded, she gripped the railing and held her head. The elevator slowed to a stop and dinged.
Torna stepped out onto the bustling street of a future city, a city that pulsated with life and technology. The noise was suffocating; Foot traffic was shoulder to shoulder. The pedestrian heads glowed green and red, casting long shadows on the grimy footpath. Skyscrapers with steel frames that were obscured by neon advertisements - flickering with hypnotic intensity. Hovercars emblazoned by various corporate logos, traveled overhead. The skyline was shrouded in a chocking fog. Air was wet with the acrid stench of industrial pollution and poverty, creating a nauseating cocktail.
Torna trudged the decrepit pavement. She stepped heavy with exhaustion, the thought of seeing her child at home lingered in her mind. She closed her eyes and the light turned green. A holographic display flickered to life, she opened her eyes. Torna selected the icon for a personal taxi service - the display stuttered and froze. Torna continued to select with frustration, the display refused to respond to her commands. A few futile attempts, and the holograph responded:
Economy Automated Taxi: ETA 5 minutes for a fee of 30 credits.
Torna was barely conscious the ride home. The economy automated taxi (E.A.T) slowed down to a stop, the internal lights came on and the car door rose up. A disembodied voice erupted from the car:
“Thanks for using E.A.T, we’re dedicated to stellar service. We have automatically included our sleeping passenger fee to your total. It’s good to E.A.T!”
Torna’s eyes cracked open and she saw a holograph appear:
-100 credits
Torna stumbled out of the car and approached her apartment tower. The tower rose above the fog and beyond the visible skyline. The flickering street lights did little to dispel the shadows that held to the crumbling building. The graffiti covered walls seemed to loom down at her. Derelicts littered the entrance to the building. Clouds of coloured vapor expelled their mouths.
Pushing open the rusted metal gate, she stepped into the dimly lit foyer. She made her way into the ancient elevator and pressed the button to go up - it groaned to life. Its ascent was accompanied by the creaking of old metal. As the elevator rose ever higher, the sounds of the city faded in the background. With a final shudder, the elevator came to a halt, its doors sliding open to reveal the dimly lit hallway beyond. Torna stepped out into the gloom, she made her way down the narrow corridor, passing doors with peeling paint and makeshift barricades. The sounds of laughter and conversation echoed through the paper thin walls. Finally, she reached her own door, its frame warped and weathered, her apartment number hung at an odd angle. Torna pressed her thumb to the biometric reader and the door buzzed. She pushed the door open, revealing the cramped confines of her apartment. The neon city outside cast a strange glow upon her walls, bathing the room in an eerie half light.
The faint hum from below filled the air as Torner stepped further into the living space. Her tired eyes scanned the room until they landed on a figure slouched on the worn out sofa.
”Joj, you’re home. I thought you were out tonight.” Torna called out, her voice carrying a mixture of relief and weariness.
Joj looked up from the holograph screen projected from her nural interface, her eyes momentarily flickered with the iridescent glow of the virtual world she inhabited.
”That’s tomorrow, I’ve already told you three times.”
Torna sighed inwardly, “How was school today?” she asked
Joj shrugged, her attention already drifting back to the virtual interface hovering before her.
”Same old, same old” she muttered, her fingers deftly manipulating the holographic controls with a practiced ease.
Torna’s heart sank at the casual dismissal, a pang of guilt gnawed at her for not being around more.
”Maybe we could have dinner together, catch up?” she said trying to bridge the chasm between them.
Joj hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on the virtual surface before finally turning to meet her mother’s eyes.
”Sure, sounds good.” she replied, a glimmer of warmth softened her expression.
Joj prepared the dinner table while Torna cooked dinner. They sat down and ate in silence. Torna looked up and said:
“How are your friends?"
"Good. They all have the latest Neural Net so they’ve been mostly catching up online."
"Can’t you go over and see them?"
"They wouldn’t want to, and I don’t blame them. Nobody meets in real life."
"I’m sure if they really are your friends, they would make the time. What’s different with the newer model?"
""