

2043

Andy Jennings

@andyjennings

Copyright 2017

Smashwords Edition

Cover image: DARPA Wikimedia Commons

Genre: 2043 is soft science fiction in the spirit of 1984 by George Orwell. It is concerned with how technology might be used, and how that may change us in ways we have not anticipated.

Reader note: there are several threads. They are labelled by the central character of the thread. The switch in context is explicit, rather than the reader having to guess.

Meifen

It was perfectly safe for young Huan to play outside. He loved to ride his electric scooter along the seashore of Peng Chau island, in Hong Kong. As a tiny island, it stood apart from the glass towers of the mainland. A tiny oasis of green floating against the walls of glass and concrete.

At twelve years old, he had a rich imagination. In his mind he was rushing off to his very important job in Shanghai, not just pushing his scooter along the pavement. In his class most of the boys were taller than him, but what he lacked in stature he made up for in energy. Straying off the path he knocked a small cardboard package off the stack. He stood sheepishly with the package at his feet as his mother caught up with him.

"Be more careful, Huan. You have disturbed the seller's stack." Meifen said.

A small robot stirred at the end of the pile of boxes. No, it wasn't going to tell him off, it just quietly spun its motors and hesitated briefly in front of them both. Two prongs quietly seized the box and carried it back to the stack. It had opposing wheels that gave it omnidirectional movement - they spun to a hum and it moved smoothly along the concrete pavement. Buying was simple enough with bio-authentication: all the purchaser had to do was wave close to the sensors and bitcoin would move. In the unlikely event of an attempted theft, there were processes that were frighteningly efficient in gathering an offender. There were still some small stores where human sellers stood beside their produce but Huan would never know what physical money looked like.

He parked his scooter and began climbing the steps of the playground. In his mind he was in the elevator, shooting to the top of the building. He turned to take in the view across the Bund. His company headquarters with his corner office that was the size of the whole top floor of their small apartment building on the island. He was planning his afternoon meetings and new product launches. Summoning the junior executives to drive the company forward.

Meifen and her husband had happened across Peng Chau. They liked to ride the ferries - it was a break from the intensity of central Hong Kong. When they got married they often visited, and when it came time to buy an apartment it appealed also because it was a little cheaper. It was cute. It was different. Or was it because when her husband, who worked at the largest merchant bank was asked where he had bought then he could say "Peng Chau" and take in the look on their faces. It was their private joke. Hong Kong society was like that. It was a pale echo of the time when it was a British colony. Now it was a bit like a discarded relic. The further down the pecking order that Hong Kong went, the more snobbish it became - the tiny distinctions of place and how expensive your apartment was, where your child's school was on the University entrance results became more important.

Having quickly traversed the ferry terminal area, they headed back in the direction of the apartment. "Now? Now?" Huan asked his mother. It was their trade, their bargain. Go out and play in the outside for an hour, then you can play the game.

Meifen said "Yes. Join your friends."

Huan went to his room, and with a few cryptic physical gestures and a retina scan, he was on and playing. Meifen called her husband. She could talk to him while she did the cooking. The call would sit in her outer visual field, with the implants doing the work. No looking for the phone, or worrying about losing it. The phone and her were joined together permanently.

"Did you relent?" he asked.

"Yes. Finally I relented." she said.

"He will be happy. Unfortunately I will be a little late. A meeting about the funding for the African ultrafast train line. I'm hoping this will be the last one."

"Of course."

Meifen continued to prepare the meal, putting it to one side and going to check on Huan. It had gone quiet. This did not necessarily mean trouble. It might mean that he was deeply involved with his game. Still, generally with children quiet was not good.

He was stretched out on the bed. His eyes were open, but he did not seem to realise that she was there. "Huan" she said. "Huan."

Then it came up on her visual field:

"If you want your son's awareness to return then tell no-one of this. Pay 30 bitcoins to this account or he will stay like this."

She gasped.

Zeno

The lights were dimmed as the plane passed over Cape York - the northern tip of Australia. If Gerhardt somehow managed to defeat the software controlling the window he knew he would see the magnificent sight of the sunrise over the cape. The romance of travel. Exotic locations but ridiculous schedules. He would find himself speeding in a car through some beautiful city. It was like a parody of the travel he loved.

How long had he been travelling? As a teenager he sought out the far places. Solitary places. While his contemporaries were juggling their first romances, he was trudging along a northern trail between Lao villages. Mastering enough of the language to find a room for the night, a bed. It was as if he was searching for that place, that situation in starkest contrast to what was expected of him. Laos, Nigeria, Ecuador.

Gerhardt's eyelids dipped slightly. The seat was designed to recall his favourite position. It had retrieved the settings of his chair at home. He was extra tall, and thin - for this chair that was not a problem. But he didn't want to sleep, he wanted to see Cairns. The aircraft swung around in a slow loop, almost as if the pilot had decided to see for himself and lower the plane. Except that of course there was no pilot, no human crew at all. Just algorithms and communication links.

There it was. He could see the surfers in the distance. Some intrepid windsurfers had ventured out beyond the furthest break. They were only 200 metres above the surface, leaving a thin mist in their wake. Not close enough to wave, but clearly visible. Gerhardt was not given to outdoor pursuits. That was another of those oppositional stances that had now become a habit. Australians almost adopted outdoor sports as a religion. Football, cricket, surfing. So he sought out badminton and chess.

Gerhardt smiled as he sighted Zeno at the far side of the gate. The queue moved quickly, as all that was needed to get him through was contained within his body. He could have walked through naked at full speed. The autonomous vehicles milled about in the pickup area. Buses, and small cars.

He was still getting used to the company car thing. Only a few weeks ago he would have been on the spare bus that took the longest path, with the students and the pensioners. Now their shining new car pulled to the curb to pick them up. It accelerated upwards to the highway and swung west away from the coast towards Cairns central. These days Cairns was almost 100 km from one edge to the other, with a population of more than 15 million.

Was it Gerhardt's idea or Zeno's? The idea for the business had floated through their conversations for years. It had almost become like a dare. They had to go through with it, as neither of them could back out.

"How did it go?" Zeno asked.

"Great. They can't get enough of it."

Zeno paused. There would be plenty of time to discuss progress later. The car was gathering speed as Cairns city centre loomed ahead. The shining tall buildings glimmering in the evening light. Since the 2020's the population movement had been in a single direction. North from the southern cities. Together with the steady stream of migrants from Asia. All seeking a new life. As life became more and more urban, the idea of Australia had grown large in the global imagination. Sitting in your Beijing capsule apartment, those sprawling beaches looked pretty good. It was just a marketing pitch though. Australia was one of the most urbanised countries itself.

"Bright lights, big city." Zeno said.

"I've just come from Shanghai, remember. This is a small town."

Zeno was tall, but not as tall as Gerhardt. Not for him the global movement. Until recently he had worked in restaurants. Mostly as a waiter, sometimes as a dishwasher. Making just enough to walk the trails. Just a pack and a tent. For months at a time. Most nights it would be just Zeno at the campsites. Emptiness, space. The long track along the spine of Australia. He had walked that, until he ran out of money.

Zeno could have passed for a number of origins. He looked Arabic, or Italian. He blended easily into the crowds of Cairns.

Maybe it was that rapid trajectory. Straight A student, he had been on the fast track almost since he could walk. The rarified places where everyone in the room was top 1% intelligence, or maybe even top 0.1%. Like a game it was. Except it became all-consuming. He sat down at a programming station, engaged, then looked up and years had passed. Zeno worked. They found him, fed him anything he wanted as long as he kept giving them what they wanted.

Until one day he found himself in a blank state at the main domestic train terminal. A very blank state. Sitting in a restaurant so completely exhausted, so bereft that when the waiter had rolled in his direction his brain just stalled. The illusion was that he was facing an attractive young waitress. In actual fact he was interacting with a robot and a set of clever sensory loops. Instead of progressing, they stared at each other. It was as if Zeno had run out of memory, that his brain suddenly had to do a massive garbage collect. Maybe it did. After way too long a pause, Zeno got up and headed for a train.

They tried to lure him back. Although he sought out the most remote of places - north of Broken Hill, south to Kangaroo Island, it was almost impossible to get beyond network connections. Nothing worked, though. Until Gerhardt and the dare that could not be un-dared.

Startup locations in Cairns were still easy to find. They had fleshed out the plan in temporary rentals, until this office came up. The car swung down into the basement and discharged them in front of the lift, which was waiting for them. In a few seconds they were on the top floor.

"What was this before?" Gerhardt asked.

"Factory." Zeno replied.

Now it held a vast space with holographic displays hung from the high ceiling. Programmers sat in circles around the large display. Zeno watched as they manipulated the representations. At times they resembled dancers as they would select and move, then pause. Not all of the programming was done this way. Some aspects still required the text approach. In the other rooms there were nods of acknowledgement as Zeno and Gerhardt strolled past. They found it hard to register that all of these people worked for them. It was both exciting and daunting.

"The prodigal returns. With buckets of orders, I hope."

Monica smiled as they turned to acknowledge her. Tall, dark, slim. They all went way back. So far back that they would struggle to recall when they first met. In University, Monica was the one with the street smarts, the ability to get the professors on side. While Gerhardt was travelling and Zeno was brooding, she was winning "most likely" prizes. Her family had migrated in the 2020's and any relationship they had with India had long since only featured when one of them did a family tree. As operations manager, she was incredibly popular with the staff. Sure, it was early days, but where the boys got nods, Monica was more like a rock star.

Jie

Wei and Jie were jammed into the third row of the seminar. Jie glanced backwards and he could not see a vacant seat. Nearly 200, mostly like him. Recent graduates, or recent PhD candidates. In the front row a few older types. Management from the lab, he figured. The speaker was Wen Qiang, a name that until a few seconds ago was just a name to them. An important name. He expected that in their first week of advanced studies, almost everyone in the room would have been reading Wen's famous paper on the origin of complex emotions. It was quite incredible to be in such a room so far west in China that if they went much further they would stray into Russia.

It was a brand spanking new room. Shiny, impressive, with every facility you had thought of, and a few that none of them had ever used. There was a lengthy introduction. Listing his many awards. He rose and walked slowly to the lectern.

"Thank you for your kind words. When you get to my age and you listen to the introduction, you think they are introducing somebody else, and you wait for them to appear. Only at the end do you realise they are talking about you."

Subdued polite laughter. Even the management looked awe-struck.

"I like to think of the history of artificial intelligence as having three golden eras. We are now in the middle of the third era. I am firmly convinced that our best is yet to come."

He paused while a representation appeared in the holographic space.

"The first era was the era of the simple neuron. In the 1980's and 1990's computers were so simple and limited that this was all that was possible. Simple layers. Still, we managed to create simple pattern recognition systems. They could read characters, recognise sounds and speech from a single speaker."

For Jie it was very hard to imagine such a simple system. He thought about it. At three years old, he had the operation and the implants were placed inside his skull, in intimate contact with his frontal cortex. All the children in his playgroup, except for one or two objectors, had them. The systems Wen was talking about were 10^9 times less complex than his implants. Wen continued.

"I won't dwell on the first stage, as there was a significant pause until we got to 2015 and beyond. This was the period known as the 'deep learning' systems. Widespread speech recognition in almost all of our systems. Phones, tablets, desktop computers."

Jie stared at the picture of a phone. He had heard of them, but it was so awfully clumsy. You had to hold it, and talk into it. What if you lost it? He shuddered briefly at the awful prospect of losing your digital self by mis-placing your phone. Also the awful thought of somebody else getting access to it. What was called a phone was now a very small part of the implants. He didn't need to actually speak out loud. He could pre-verbalise and it would be transmitted. He thought of the possibility of someone overhearing his conversations. This was truly frightening.

"Deep learning reached it's peak in the late 2020's and once again there was a pause. It was as if we were waiting for the hardware to catch up with our imaginations. Perhaps the pinnacle of deep learning was the proliferation of artificial personal assistants."

There was a critical complexity barrier beyond which trust developed. One of Wen's first papers as a raw graduate student had studied it in detail. Not a famous paper at all. Jie had read it, but he wondered for a moment that perhaps no more than five people in the room might have.

"Simple transitive cognitive attachment was the key. If you wish to read further on this."

The link made its way to every implant in every head in the room. Quietly they decided to keep it or let it pass.

"We stand at the beginning of the third phase of artificial intelligence. I will briefly review what we have learned so far. If nothing else, that computation is much more powerful than we originally conceived. At every turn, those who favoured alternative approaches such as hand crafting have been overtaken by those who used more data, and ever more computation."

It was almost surreal to be so far from Shanghai. Jie had never really left it. All he knew of it was the tales his grandfather told. Tales of hard labour in the fields, of being at the mercy of the elements. Droughts, raging floods.

That morning as the train sped across the paddy fields, he remembered all of that. He had only been ten years old when grandfather had died and it was difficult to remember the funeral.

"Can you see the people planting the rice?" he asked Wei. They were classmates - the joke was they were more like twins. Same height, same trimmed dark hair, same intelligence that shone in their eyes. Wei looked at Jie as if he had lost his mind.

"Over there." he pointed in the distance out of the right window. It was hard to make anything out at the speed they were travelling.

"Those are robots. There might be twenty of them. Planting out an acre each time. No humans involved, except as monitors, and they will be far away in the nearest city. Or they might be halfway around the world."

Jie was disappointed. He opened his mouth to talk about grandfather. Wei was not that sympathetic though. The future, making the future, that was Wei's only concern. That, and girls. As healthy, single twenty five year olds, the prospect of a long time in western China did not appeal.

"Nightlife. Nightlife. I can't find any. Nothing."

"You could just visit one of the local villages. Ask around." Jie said, grinning.

"The countryside. You know nothing about it, do you? Absolutely nothing. I would need an arranged introduction, and a promise to marry. Call me a crazy person, but I had in mind a little fun before the mortgage and the small army of children."

"Ease up. Look at this." Jie brought it up. The industrial city within two hours by train. Nightclubs. Everything that a young party goer might want. Sure it would not have the sophistication of Shanghai, but it was all that was on offer.

Wen was warming to his theme now. They had traversed the lowlands, and climbed most of the way up the mountain. Soon they would get to the top and see the view ahead, stretching as far as the eye could see.

"The limits of deep learning were apparent to all of us. Is the mind a passive sponge? Is it a matter of stimulus and response? Even a quite sophisticated response? Are we all just super-fast slugs?"

Wen was well past 60, and most of his hair was grey, but as he became more agitated, and warmed to the topic, he seemed to grow younger. As if these were questions that he might devote a lifetime to. In his heart though, he knew that was why he was talking. Not for him, these problems, but for his audience.

"Consciousness. That was meant to be the sticking point. Of course we didn't really understand what it was. Still don't. Maybe consciousness is an emergent property when we get to the right level of complexity. I say we are still at least 10^10 away from that. More fundamental is an inner life, an internal momentum."

Jie and Wei were well familiar with this. In a very real sense it was why they were in this far flung lab. Assembling such a large, expensive effort was to take it to the next level.

"Let's compare the development of human and artificial intelligences. Is all of the time from birth to age 16 or so just wasted wandering?

"Why have we shied away from the path of independence, the inner life? Because it brings into play all of our deepest fears. The Frankenstein anxieties, the fear of being replaced as a species. Well I say: are we just going to make better toasters, or are we going to tackle the real problems? You are the best, and the brightest. I know that you will find a way."

Then, suddenly, he stopped. Everyone leapt to their feet and applauded. He didn't stop, or soak up the adulation. Instead he looked weak on his feet and aimed for the exit. Not even waiting for the management to escort him.

Lai shuffled along the aisle. He was their immediate superior. Perhaps late 20's or early 30's. They had met briefly that morning for the first time.

"Would you like to meet him?" he asked.

Jei looked at Wei. They hesitated.

"Just us?" Jei said.

"The director as well. Lunch."

It was an incredible honour. What if they were not up to the conversation? Lai sensed their reluctance, opened his mouth to persuade them, then looked frustrated.

"Some things you can't say no to." he said, and walked off.

An

It was perfectly synchronised. An and Chun glanced at each other, and signalled to make a break for it. Chun grinned and they both skipped away from the tour group. It was the build up to the yearly opening of the People's Assembly. This group was the new journalists, all recent graduates. An and Chun were first class honours graduates from Beijing University. They shared a past in a way even though they came from opposite ends of the country. Both products of the talent system, making their way by exam scores alone. No influential relatives in higher places to grease the wheels for them. Chun's father was only familiar with the wheels of farm equipment, he knew nothing of politics or influence. An's father and mother were business people in the north, the industrial belt. Similarly though, they were more intent on efficiency, markets.

As an exercise in architecture, it was meant to be breathtaking. Begun in the middle 2030's when China had become clearly and unequivocally the centre of world economic activity, the middle kingdom, as they had always intended it should be. The building was not just embedded with computation, it lived and breathed it. Vast sails were perhaps reminiscent of the Sydney Opera House, but these were computational sails. Shifting and shaping to capture light, filter shade, alive to the environment. Beijing went from being a pollution shrouded miserable place to what it was today. The air, the water were as clean and clear as in the most remote parts of the planet. Inside the building, it was one of the first to be built in the era of implants. No garish screens, or holographic projectors. No need for them. Instead vast open, light shrouded spaces. No need for amplification, no need to spell it out. It spoke only of limitless power.

In one of the small cafes adjacent to the main assembly hall two coffees appeared on a tray that hovered before them. In a tiny reflection of the forces that transported the world: magnetic levitation. As An made the mental form of two coffees, somewhere in the deep recesses of the building a machine had their thoughts embodied in two coffees, transported up to where they sat. No trappings of a store, no waiters.

"First day. We are the total newbies." An said. Chun grinned. They were both slim, well dressed, short hair. They might as well have carried signs saying ' I am a recent graduate journalist. I'm as ambitious as all hell, watch out '.

"It feels good. I feel like I am at the centre of the centre." Chun said.

"Really? Not Shanghai? You really think that politics matters?"

An looked hurt. "Of course it matters. The laws, the plans, the future. It's all here."

"It's not a real democracy though, is it?"

"What's a real democracy?"

They had studied this. They had discussed this. They had studied much more than that though. It was thrilling now to see it as real, as physical. The assembly was right in front of them. It was not in a textbook, or a hologram. They could walk across and touch it.

"All modern Chinese history is born in the cultural revolution." Chun said. "Order comes from chaos."

"It's not that simple, but yes, in a sense. Undirected public dialogue can tend towards anarchy."

"Freedom can look a lot like anarchy. Only those who fear it fail to thrive."

These were dangerous words. It was exhilarating to be able to say them out loud, without the school surveillance. Now they both paused and looked around. As if to reassure themselves that yes, they had made it. They really were here.

"Li Xinping." An said.

"Maker of the techno-economy."

"In a headline sense, yes."

"Freedom. The great banner of the Americans. They used to have the mission of spreading freedom, they said."

"Freedom to drink Coca Cola, to watch Hollywood movies. To worship at the feet of the CIA, the NSA."

"Just because the Americans adopted it as a slogan does not make it a bad thing."

"So you say."

What of the decline of America? In the nature of these things, like a pebble rolling off a mountain. It began slowly then gathered paced. It was really driven by success. Those at the top were at the very top. The statistics were eye watering. Top 1% wealth just kept growing. In one sense this is what had made America great. With just a bit of education and a lot of energy, many from the bottom had made it. It encouraged everyone to try, that it was possible.

Inevitably though, in almost a sickening parody of that which had made it great, it all began to go sour. The pathways for talent to find a way were closed off. In the manner of a feudal landlord wanting to keep the peasants out. Nowhere was it more obvious, and more important, than in education. It became more expensive to get a good education. One gateway closed. More expensive to live in the cities where the good jobs were. Another gateway closed.

Now it was China first, then daylight. No, America didn't like being second one little bit. Their leaders increasingly resembled the lunatics of the 20th century, but without the resources all they could do was throw insults at the middle kingdom.

"So long ago, the chaos." An began. "Why is it still the point of reference?"

"You have studied Singapore?" Chun said. "Lifetimes ago, it had race riots at its beginning. It still resonates. China is the same. We are looking for a permanent immunity to that time. Those animal spirits. As if a moment's inattention will let the spirits out of the bottle."

She let it go. It was true, the fear of disorder was strong, even now.

"What do you make of Lien Hua?" Chun asked.

She was six months in as leader. Even ten years ago the idea of a female leader had been unthinkable. She seemed to come from nowhere. It was her mastery of the media that had become her springboard. From the far north she had come. As far from the centre as you could get, in all sorts of ways. So unlikely that she was through barriers before her enemies even had time to gather their defences.

"I think she is exactly what the new China needs." Chun said.

An laughed. "Your next job, as campaign manager awaits."

"Seriously though. As a former developer she has an affinity with the central forces of the economy. The developer workforce is our great strength."

As if by magic, a solitary figure approached them heading along the long corridor beside the assembly. Walking with serious intent. The lack of an entourage made them immediately discount her identity. It was only when the she came across to the table that they realised that it was actually Lien Hua. Tall, fit, early fourties. With a slight grin, realising the incongruity of the meeting.

They both instinctively stood to attention. Like two school children caught outside of class.

"Relax." she said. "You must be new. I haven't seen you here before."

As if they should be noticed, An thought. They were the lowest, the most menial shufflers of words. The shovelers of coal, throwing words into the fireplace to keep the meme engines going. Perhaps the unlikeliness of the meeting that gave them courage.

"How do you find our democracy?" Lien Hua asked, grinning.

Instead of saying "magnificent" they took courage. Who knows when they might have another chance to talk to her like this?

"What do you say to those who say it is a sham, that it is not real democracy?" Chun asked.

Lien Hua paused. This of course was the barb thrown by the declining West. It had been thrown since time immemorial.

"No system is perfect. You have studied the US presidential elections? Of course you have. A candidate has to raise billions of dollars to even begin competing. How real is that? Yes, here we select candidates, no candidate can run without being approved by us. That is a selection process, but it doesn't involve billions of dollars."

She smiled.

"You are starting this week?" she asked.

"Yes." they both replied.

"I'll look forward to seeing you around then."

Then suddenly, she was gone.

Michael

Chung and Feng looked up to see Michael pushing aside the curtain, and entering. To call it a room was a bit of an exaggeration. It was a retired packing crate. Wedged into the bank beside the railway line. High on the slope it was in plain view of the trains swishing past below. Which would have perhaps meant a short stay for them. Only a day or so for the train driver to note them there, report them to the relevant authorities and they would have been out of there. Except that there were not any train drivers. At the angle the box sat, the passengers could not see them. If somebody had climbed the barrier at the top of the slope and looked over they would have been spotted. Nobody was that enthusiastic though. So for as long as Chung and Feng could remember, they had a refuge. They had to be careful of the drones, but they had camouflaged the roof.

Michael held up a headset. Before the implants the headsets had been common. A bit like a skull cap. You strapped it over your head and it gave most of the effect. Nowadays though it would only sell in the provinces, to those who could not afford the operation.

"Do we eat?" Feng asked, grinning.

"Maybe only a snack. Premium though."

Set into the side of the hill, the wall behind them was covered in the old fashioned flat screen monitors. Any number of them were discarded at the kerbside for years. Outside the crate, their solar panels were laid out along the side of the hill, pointing toward the afternoon sun. A set of smaller, tracking panels rather then the large house sized panels. Enough to keep their systems running. An antenna above, and they were connected.

Misfits, all of them. It was that battle to keep your emotions in check. That day when the bosses face turns red and he starts shouting at you. Either you restrain yourself, think of the money, or you don't. That was what they had in common. They had all taken the walk rather than hide it. In a way it was surprising that more people didn't take the walk. Still, Shanghai was by far the most expensive city on the planet, and there were only so many hillsides where you could huddle. For almost everyone it was too perilous.

The laundry business mostly enabled them to eat. Maybe you were going for that promotion, or you wanted to propose to that girl. It was like your digital self preceded you. Before you opened your mouth to ask the girl out, her parents already had your life swirling all over their implants. Who had not pulled a silly prank in school? Who had not been late with some payment? Who had not an ex-girlfriend or ex-boyfriend that they wanted to keep hidden? For a fee they would clean up your presence.

Michael had arrived on the work visa. Shanghai's largest data experience company. They constructed virtual worlds based on corporate data. With the implants, you could wander through a virtual universe. The idea was that in the holographic layout, you would encounter unexpected relationships, find some way to get advantage. Gimmicky, yes. Saleable, very. It was in the early days of the implants, and nobody wanted to be left behind. He was twenty four, he had those Portugese looks. How many programmers came from Portugal? He was new, and mysterious. Yes, he played on it.

Was it a wish to play with danger? Or was it straight magnetic attraction? Ah Lam was a graduate of Shanghai's top University. In a very real sense she was more than a match for Michael, intellectually. On the day he arrived he looked across the table at the team, scanning along the line of faces and there she was. Tall, slim, serious. She didn't defer, or look away. She looked straight at him. He looked straight at her. He had a feeling of standing at the top of a bungee jump. Wondering about the cord, about the glide into space that seemed to go for ever and then the violent grab as the cord pulled tight.

Did he actually know that Ah Lam was the daughter of the CEO? Not at the time. He learned soon after that first meeting. It didn't deter him. Life on the edge, that's what he thought.

"I'm new to Shanghai. Maybe you could show me around." he said. Smiling that smile.

"Sure. What sort of thing?" she said.

"Something unusual. Out of the way. I'm not much for nightclubs."

Ah Lam laid down a virtual track for him to follow. Not that he got the whole track at once. Just that he had to keep walking, and every time he needed to change direction then he would get a signal. Pulled along.

Shanghai was all new to him. Everyone here had a place they were going to that had to be got to in the fastest possible manner. At first he thought he would be knocked down just entering onto the pavement. He hesitated, then jumped into the stream. Down a long boulevard, in the direction of the Bund.

He came to a large intersection, and despite himself just stopped and stared. A vast array of autonomous vehicles - all the way from individual capsules that were barely larger than a person. Since there were no accidents, there was no need for strength in the capsule walls. Light, electrical, and fast. A set of middle size vehicles for four people, and the large buses. There was nothing like this back in Portugal.

At the intersection there were no lights. He vaguely remembered a historical film he had seen. Of a bicycle intersection somewhere in Asia. Swarms of bicycles sliding past each other, with seemingly no system to it at all. Each bicycle followed its tendency to a direction, seamlessly weaving its way through the crowd. As if by magic, it all flowed. It didn't get stuck. He thought it was like watching a school of fish. Seamless. Fascinating.

This was the modern re-incarnation of the swarm intersection. Every vehicle knew the precise location, speed and direction of every other vehicle in reach of the intersection. Signals exchanged meant that collisions were avoided and the four streams met, slid past each other and continued on. It truly was quite fascinating to watch.

He was drawn ever closer to the Bund. A broad avenue that went right back to when Europeans occupied parts of the city. He tried to comprehend that. All of his childhood, his education and his ambitions had centred on Shanghai. If he had stayed in Portugal he would be another under-employed tourist guide. That was the only job open to young people. His Mandarin was excellent, so he would have been good at it. He could not think of Europe any other way. Europe was just a destination for Chinese tourists. The idea of Europe as a colonial power was just too incredible to contemplate.

Now he was actually on the Bund. He could not see Ah Lam anywhere. Of course he could track her, but that would not have been in the spirit of it. The sun was edging ever lower, and he wondered if she had changed her mind. Just at that moment, a vehicle pulled up, and Ah Lam stepped out. On the pavement there was a table, and a human waiter hovering.

"The best view. Don't you think?" She smiled. Pleased with the timing, and the location.

"You sure know how to welcome somebody." he said.

They quietly ate, and drank. The waiter was unobtrusive. Michael had no experience with human waiters, so he had no idea how to behave.

"So. My city. You are impressed?"

He didn't pretend.

"All my life I dreamed of this city. This is in every way a dream come true." he said. It was not a time to hedge your bets.

"It is easy to become too immersed in it. To forget its attractions. I have not known a time without it. I know nothing of Europe, of your country."

"No holidays?"

"Study. Always the studying. Great things are expected of you. Of you too, yes?"

He could see that Ah Lam was born of privilege. Of power. Of importance. He could not pretend to be part of that world. He desperately wanted to be though.

"Your family?" he asked.

She smiled. She sat back. In a sense she was very happy.

"You don't know? You didn't notice?"

Then he thought about the name. All of a sudden he made the connection. He had that bungee jumping feeling again. He realised that being oblivious to this stuff was exactly what she was excited about. How many gold diggers had she met? How on earth could she go on a casual date with anyone from the company?

She sent the car away when they finished eating, and they joined the walkers. Many couples similar to themselves. Young, hopeful, smiling. He wondered how to begin. She was so different to the girls back in Portugal. He had grown up with them - there were no issues of power, of protocol.

They came close together, standing there, leaning on each other. Without words, without any hesitation their arms were around each other, they were kissing and neither of them wanted to stop. It was as if their bodies took over and bound them so tight together.

Nguyen

The three musketeers, they called themselves. From somewhere in first year they had been inseparable. How did that happen? Alan, Xi and Nguyen. Xi was born into wealth, Alan and Nguyen were scholarship winners. The Shanghai Institute of Technology prided itself on its generous scholarship programs. It had all been about parity with Oxford, Cambridge and Harvard as the prestigious institutions of the time. Nobody talked about them now. With funding decline, only Chinese Universities were in the top 20.

On campus Xi tried to keep it low profile, but his parents were often photographed and displayed, sometimes with Xi lingering in the background. He always looked as if he would rather be boiled in oil than have his photograph taken. By way of contrast, his mother and father were like rock stars. Both in their mid fourties, they were darlings of the Shanghai social set.

Now, it was graduation day. The three musketeers were nervous, excited and anxious to let down their hair, all at once. An unease about the future. Perhaps they would be scattered to the farther reaches of the planet? Given the magnet that was Shanghai, the immediate availability of a five year working visa, it seemed unlikely. Still, it was the biggest day of their lives so far.

Alan came from Broken Hill. It was a long way from Shanghai, but at least it was on the railway network. He could get home within ten hours - making it feasible for a three day stay. In the beginning he had hurried back at every opportunity. To stand out in the red dirt, and stare at the sky. To drink with his friends and tear around town burning off adolescent energy. As the weeks became months, and he became more and more Shanghai and his friends remained Broken Hill it fell away. They had jobs. Some of them even had children. Yes, they were proud of him, but there were few points of connection. His parents in the same way. Proud, but harder and harder to connect. Rather than confront the sadness, it was much more comfortable to stay within the world of Shanghai. A world it was.

Nguyen was from outside Hoi An, in Vietnam. A small village. As he came to the end of primary school, he began to pay more attention to the tourists in Hoi An. Where they came from. The world. His Mandarin was improving. He had a capacity for languages, and could see that with his brains and language he could escape. His parents were both tour guides, and although they were ambitious for him, they were anxious that once he escaped the small world of Hoi An, he would be reluctant to return. They understood the provincialism, the narrow minded nature of their town. So Nguyen, inevitably, had made his way to Hanoi, and then to Shanghai.

Xi wanted a great graduation day. He had decided that today, of all days, he would make the family wealth work for them. So here he was, outside the family apartment, waiting for Alan and Nguyen. For the hustling pedestrians and the rushing cars this was just another day. He scanned the faces on the pavement, anxious. As it was, they came up behind me.

"A graduate. Are you not the famous Xi, top graduate in Machine Intelligence?" Alan said.

Xi swung around. There they were. The three musketeers. A set of cameras hovered above them, recording it holographically. This was something to show the grandchildren.

Nguyen smiled.

"What have you got planned for us?" he asked.

Xi pointed towards the hovering car. Drone like, autonomous. They were rare, expensive. They were into it and off. Swirling, swaying as they climbed vertically towards the skyline.

"Wow. Just wow." Alan shouted as they accelerated upwards.

"This is great." Nguyen said.

Then they were above it all, still climbing in the early morning. Sharp light from the sun low in the sky. It seemed to make the edges of the buildings like the edge of knives. Everything was silver, with reflections of the other buildings. It was disorienting, at times hard to get your orientation. Moving east, they could just make out the crowds on the pavements below.

They just stopped. Now it was like being in a balloon. Absolute silence. The motors were quiet, humming just enough to keep them suspended. At the centre of Shanghai, in the sky. Xi grinned.

"Great day." he said.

"I can't believe it is finally here." Alan said

"All that stuff about your family. We were just joking." Nguyen said. "You can't choose your family. Who knows, we might all be as rich as you soon."

"Let's drink to that." Alan reached for the complementary drinks.

They lingered above Shanghai long enough, then descended slowly to the outskirts. Xi had more for them. They still had several hours before the graduation. Now they were in a ground car, now inside what looked like a cinema, at least in the fittings and the ticketing. Xi simply waved them through the doors. All of the ticketing was taken care of.

At first it was dark, they edged forward. Then out into a misty, cool forest. Above them light filtered through from a canopy. A walkway through the forest. They had the sights, the smell, the feel of the wind. All of their senses engaged with the rainforest.

They were inside a sensorium. It engaged every aspect of the implants. They could see each other, interact normally. It was as if they were actually in the rainforest. How many of the birds, the wildlife were extinct? Here in a strange way they lived on.

"Incredible." Nguyen said.

They had plenty of time to get to the graduation ceremony, but they didn't want to be late. All of their parents would be there. Xi's of course. Nguyen's and Alan's were both on the rail line. Alan pictured the train carrying his parents stopping at Hanoi and picking up Nguyen's who would have come on the slower train up the coast. What a world they lived in.

Alan couldn't stop laughing. The academic dress was exactly as it would have been in the 19th, or maybe even the 17th century. It just seemed so bizarre in Shanghai in 2043. Xi and Nguyen were more subdued. The gravity of the day. Their parents out there.

It was as if the stage was suspended in free air, with a staircase also suspended. Some sort of light bending effect, it added an element of modernity that was needed. They sat through the Vice Chancellor's speech, the wind up. Trying to find their parents in the crowd. So large. One by one they found them, waved.

Although there was supposed to be silence as they treaded through and collected their degrees, the wide spread of cultures inevitably meant that there was considerable shouting and whooping. Some graduates had a large fan club that jumped to their feet. Sadly, a small number had nobody out there.

Then, inevitably, they had to squirm in their seats while the guest of honour gave the graduation speech. Maybe it would be somebody famous, they hoped. More importantly, maybe it would be somebody who could be brief and to the point.

The Vice-Chancellor paused, and began.

"Recent graduates. Welcome. Parents: well done also. It is my very great pleasure to introduce the distinguished speaker. Bin Wang I am sure is familiar to you. In a very real sense he is one of our most famous graduates. You might not remember the old China, the China that manufactured things, that exported. I myself recall that with some pride. The modern China of today is of course a software, a services based economy. I am sure that Bin would be the last to claim a role. He would argue that we do all of these things together. History tells us otherwise. Some individuals shift the whole world. BaoWei is a powerhouse. As a company it pioneered our new economy. We are grateful to you Bin. Words cannot convey our gratitude."

As the Vice Chancellor had told it, was essentially how it had happened. In one of those changes that happened faster than you could say "demise of the American economy" the axis had shifted. It seemed that one day it was California, the next Shanghai. It only seemed that way in retrospect, it had taken more than ten years, but Bin was the cheerleader, he had been perhaps the first to believe that it was possible.

He walked slowly to the lectern, scanned the crowd, scanned the graduates.

"It seems only yesterday that I was sitting where you are sitting. It has been exciting, it's been fun. So what have I learned? Firstly that you really can believe things into being. That which seems impossible. When we sat there at the beginning of BaoWei. Just the four of us in a room. Dreaming up a business. We were not much older than you. We were outrageously confident. So should you be. Secondly, that it is all about people. You have learned many powerful technical skills. You are the brightest of the brightest. Perhaps you believe that you are an individual genius. You are nothing without your friends, your colleagues. Commit yourselves to the team. Know when to shout, and when to whisper. Finally, the most important thing of all. China is great. It would be tempting to see the world as China. The world is much more than China, it is an international community. Don't listen to the xenophobic. Dedicate yourselves to the world as a whole. Thank you."

Then suddenly it was over, and they were throwing their hats in the air. Would it ever be better than this?

Zeno

Zeno's father had the Greek looks. Tall, a University professor. He had moved from Sydney: new University, new money, new start. His mother was also a University professor, but while they moved she had taken extended leave. Wei Lin was fourth generation Australian - Zeno might have been described as Greek-Chinese-Australian if anybody worried about such descriptions. Zeno could remember father being picked up by the car to go to work in the early morning. It would wake him, and lift the curtain. Sometimes his father would remember and wave to him, sometimes not.

He liked being home, having his mother around. It was something familiar, in the midst of so much turmoil. She would take him along on the short shopping expeditions - there was really only one store in Deeral. An old couple ran it, without any of the normal shop technology apart from the payment systems.

"He looks so healthy. You take good care of him." Eileen said to Wei Lin.

"Not really. He has always been healthy. No trouble."

"He is so tall, maybe he will be a basketballer. Hey, Zeno, do you practice the shots?"

Zeno was embarrassed, and huddled behind his mother.

He must have been four. Not yet at school. Playing with his toys on the floor, he looked up and could see his mother. It was reassuring. She had a small set of steps, which she climbed to get something from the top shelf. It took her out of view, behind the door. It was so quick, he almost imagined that he heard it, but it was real. A slight shout from Wei Lin, then that awful thud as she hit the floor, and the rattle of the steps as they followed.

The silence told him everything. He shouted, and ran to the kitchen, seeing her lying completely still.

Zeno

"You going to be ok with the presentation?" Zeno hesitatingly asked Gerhardt.

There was a distinct pause. Even though travel was now seamless, there was still the general dislocation of moving so far so fast. Somewhere along the way Gerhardt had forgotten about the talk. Nothing too serious, a short talk to the new marketing recruits.

Zeno smiled. Yes, they went so far back. There were never any doubts or uncertainties between them. That was one of the strengths of the company. Monica, Zeno, Gerhardt. Glued together.

"I'll be fine. I'll wing it." Gerhardt said.

He had only been in their seminar room once before. It was like a pit. Circular, with the holographic display above the speaker. Still, it was an internal thing, so a few wrinkles about the edges should not matter. Might work better, he thought. They would be hard to impress on technical prowess alone. Newly minted they probably had a better grasp of it all than he did.

Some were seated at eye level, then the seats rose slightly toward the back. Only room for about thirty. Zeno looked across as if to say "ready?" and Gerhardt just nodded. Zeno began.

"I am sure you are all aware of our co-CEO. I don't need to list his achievements. He might blush if I do that. When the three of us founded Yperochi we had a dream. You might wonder why we chose a Greek name? It was a statement about the world. It reflected the march of humanity. From the time to where to go across a mountain pass you would find a different language on the other side. Now we are all tightly welded together. Please welcome Gerhardt."

Of course they welcomed Gerhardt. The future was bright, and Gerhardt was going to lead them there.

Later, Gerhardt and Zeno went up to the top floor. Here there were just the three offices, for the three of them. Vast areas of glass, with views out across Cairns. The building was at the edge of the city centre, pointing towards the sea. It gave them space, but still it was so far from where they had been. It might introduce agoraphobia at first, but in a sense it was necessary.

"So. Really. How did it go?" Zeno asked Gerhardt.

"Strong. The game makers are all on board. At least for the trial. Consumer side is a bit more complex. Our arguments about enhanced awareness didn't really cut through."

"You showed them the trials ?"

"Yes. They don't really think that way. Maybe we should do a free trial. "

In the display space, Zeno could adjust the assumptions. Test the figures. Any way you looked at it, they were good.

"Don't say the word 'free' to Monica." Zeno grinned.

Zeno didn't display the project numbers. He could see them straight away though. That was another aspect of the implants. No need to move a finger, or interact with a screen. He could see it privately or overlayed on what his eyes were seeing. He opted for this, and there was a surreal composite of Gerhardt painted with scheduling curves and statistical projections. Zeno blinked and killed it. Too much.

That was the problem with starting a company with your friends. When it came to the time to confront issues like this, it was difficult. So, thought Zeno, you should always start a company with your worst enemy.

Just at that moment, Monica breezed in.

"A momentary stop, Gerhardt, I'm assuming on your way to: where? Brazil? Africa? It's really fortunate for you that all startups are global."

She grinned. In a very real sense she was where she belonged.

"But first, a tour of inspection of our brilliant new facility. Right now. Let's go."

Down in the supersonic lift, and into the car. It slowed for the tight turn out of the basement, and up to street level. Along the Cairns esplanade. In the distance they could see the street fountain, and the children playing under it. At least they had kept that. Much of Cairns though was unrecognisable. The anonymity of the middle level cities: functional, liveable, but unfortunately very similar to each other. Downtown Ho Chi Minh was distressingly similar to downtown Cairns. Some, like Hanoi, bucked the trend and determinedly kept their old areas. That was a problem in itself, as the autonomous cars struggled.

There was, for once, silence in the car as the three made their way to the lab. West of Cairns, but below the mountains. In what used to be largely a government housing area, now the sparkling building. It had a huge open plan area, with a walkway suspended around the perimeter. They could walk around above the workforce below. Wall to wall PhDs, Zeno thought.

"We have it a bit segregated. Over there." Monica pointed to the far east corner. "The physiologists and the biologists. At the left are the neural network experts, and down in the far right are the network specialists."

"The display?" Zeno asked. He was, in a sense familiar with much of the science. It all moved so fast though.

"Neural activation maps. Here." She activated a group view mode on the implants, which brought it right into close visual field. "It gives us the one to one correspondence. Artificial and biological. Very close matches."

Gerhardt interjected.

"But of course the artificial is just that. It's not like we are doing geometric mapping." he said.

Monica smiled.

"No, of course not."

Gerhardt swung around, taking in the view.

"Today Shanghai, tomorrow the world." he grinned.

They all smiled. It was good to reflect on where they were, and to remember where they had come from. Zeno wasn't about to raise the project delays. Not now, anyway.

"Tonight?" Monica asked.

It was a bit of a tradition for them to go out when they were all together. It was Friday, so that was even more of a reason. She could tell that both Gerhardt and Zeno were not enthusiastic, but she pushed on.

"I've got something special." she said.

They smiled, and knew that it was pointless to resist. Inevitably finding themselves later gathered high in the mountains with a view of the skyline. Their own dedicated robot waiter, sensing when their drink was low and before they even realised it, refilling the glass.

Gerhardt turned to Zeno.

"Rather be sitting beside the campfire, with responsibility only for what time you get out of the tent in the morning?" he asked.

Zeno turned, smiled, as if Gerhardt had sensed his exact thoughts. Monica intervened.

"Dreams. Simplicity. It's an illusion. You know that, don't you? You were not out there long enough. All that talent. You really think that it's a good use of your talents to follow a trail, pitch a tent?"

Zeno sat back.

"So that's what it's about. An appropriate use of my talents? You've become a God. Dishing out the talents and checking that I am making appropriate use of them?"

Gerhardt spoke.

"It's a stand against something. You take exception to the complexity of modern life, remove yourself to a version that is last century, maybe even the century before. It's not enough to stand against something. After a while you are forgotten, nobody really cares that you have abandoned the stage. They forget you. What are you standing against then? More important to build things."

Zeno sipped his drink, looked outside at the view. Was this what had brought him back?

Monica smiled.

"I know what you need, Zeno. A good girl. That's what you need."

He was about to object, to defend the lonely trudging. That it was not empty putting of one foot in front of another. That the wilderness mattered. Even here, in the most urbanised country on the planet.

They were the same age, single, rich now even taking into account the theoretical nature of their riches. A long way from where they had been.

Gerhardt turned towards the other two.

"Let's drink to that then. The three musketeers married, with responsibilities. Never to roam again."

Jie

Just the four of them. Wei, Jie, the Director and Wen. The eating hall was communal - like everything else at the lab it was new. Every meal was individual, matched to a complex relationship between their physical needs and their preferences. Nothing so subtle as a tiny meal for anyone judged overweight, just a nudge in the right direction.

It appeared that a young and very attractive waitress was hovering at a distance from the table, topping up their drinks and bringing stuff before they were asked.

"Wonderful, these illusions, are they not?" Wen said.

They were surprised by this attitude. Back in Shanghai it was all the fashion to regard automation as a terrible contagion. The wealthy had their own restaurants where real humans still waited tables. Honestly, though, it was hard to pick the difference between the simulated and the real.

"Yes. I take great pride in their authenticity." the Director said.

At first the conversation was a great disappointment to them both. It turned out that Wen and the director went back a long way. They had not imagined that such a great man would be concerned with the domestic, the sentimental.

"You remember old Chou? The machine learning lecturer? His terrible lisp? How we sat there on the edge of laughter through every session?"

"Yes. He was brilliant, but it was excruciating."

So the discussion went. It turned out they had been at University together, and had even lived in the same residence for a year or so. Even though Jie and Wei, as they listened, gathered that at the time they were not so close, the vagaries of history now threw them together. So for the purposes of greasing whatever wheels needed to be greased, they were both manufacturing a past where they were the best of friends.

There was a subtlety to the dynamic. Wen was the famous one. The Director only really distinguishing himself by his other abilities. His research record was strong, but it was in climbing the greasy organisational pole that he excelled. Right place, right time, right publicity. Right friends. All of that. He was not really pretending otherwise, but as Jie and Wei watched they could see Wen pandering, and ingratiating himself.

"A strange location for the world's strongest AI research lab." Wen said.

"There is that element of decentralisation, yes." the Director said. "It works in our favour though. Nothing to distract our brilliant researchers. No shortage of facilities, no limits in luxury for their comfort. We can only imagine that it will lead to the greatest advances in the history of the field."

Jie immediately thought 'no night life'. He didn't say that of course. This was a cue to include them in the conversation. He wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

"I really liked your comments on sponges. The third wave is past, but do you think we are still held back by the Frankenstein complex?" Jie asked Wen.

"There is a natural fear of the unknown. Also a primordial fear of beings that we cannot control. Maybe it goes right back to the early days of mankind when we would huddle around the fire at night, and there were real predators. Some of them smarter than us."

The Director looked engaged. Pleased that his recruits were asking questions worth of the talent at the table. Wen continued.

"Consider freedom versus capability. Can you have an intelligence at the highest levels that does not have a high degree of freedom?"

He glanced at Jie and Wei. It was not an obviously political comment, although the Director looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Even recently, many have maintained the fiction of the perfect servant. The idea that without genuine agency we can raise the level. Rather than speculate, look at the studies. The results are clear." he said.

Wen sat back. He paused.

"Even way back in the late 20th century we had these machines called 'poker machines'. Just a complex series of flashing lights and video displays."

Obviously Jie and Wei could not recall that. They doubted that their parents would. Wen summoned a video and shared it. He was right, it was incredibly primitive.

"People would sit at these machines, fascinated, playing them. Putting their wealth into them. To try and win at gambling. Even though the odds were against them. Such was the level of fascination that they would become addicted. Play to their own physical exhaustion. Play until their wealth was exhausted."

"Imagine what we could do with what we have today." he said.

He paused, again. Jie and Wei were about to object. The history showed that with better anti-addiction drugs that the poker machines had died out. With the rise of the implants, those offering immunity from addiction had gained the upper hand. This wasn't the point though, they didn't have to imagine, their research told them exactly what they could do.

"Real agency is essential. It is the pre-requisite of high intelligence. We should not fear it, we should embrace it."

The director and Wen continued chatting. They were excused.

"Wow. What a moment." Jie said.

"Yes. His point though?"

"Sponges. The perfect sensory action loop? Of course he is right. I think the phrase was 'ghost in the machine' by Koestler. Humans are a result of a long evolutionary path. It is foolish to pretend that there are not remnants of the brutal past. It's natural to wish for some perfect machine that obviates all of the nasty human imperfections."

Jie and Wei drifted off. There were still parts of their new environment that they had yet to explore. First they went up in the elevator of the tallest building, the management building. They could get out onto a small platform on the roof. It was a good vantage point to take in their surroundings. There was the new lab buildings, three of them. Here they were on the top of a hill, and all they could see almost to the horizon beyond that, were rice fields. Jie was pleased to see, this far away from Shanghai, that there were still some human tended fields.

"See. They are planting the rice." he said.

There was a row of human figures stretched across the width of the flooded fields. Exactly as his grandfather had described it. He tried to imagine doing that motion all day. How much the back must hurt.

"Chengdu." Wei said.

"You're speaking in code again. What about Chengdu?" Jie said.

"It's only two hours from here, on the ultra-fast."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning night life idiot."

In the fading light, the ultra flew across the barren landscape. In the lounge car, they could nurse a drink and gaze out the window. Not that they could really see much at the speed they were travelling. Was this the answer to their exile? Maybe it was illogical to be homesick for Shanghai. After all, it wasn't as if there was a girlfriend waiting for either of them. There were lots of girls at the lab - around 40% of AI specialisations were female. Was it that they couldn't handle intelligent girls? Or was it that they didn't fancy facing up on Monday answering for their behaviour late on a Friday night? Either way, here they were on the way to Chengdu.

The cars jostled outside the station, each making its way to its target customer. Spreading out, as they moved their car would follow them along the street, attempting to make its way to the pavement. They gave up and stepped across in front. Sensing their presence the car was forced to stop, and they were on their way.

As bars went, it was flashy enough. They both tried hard not to compare it to Shanghai. There was no real attempt at a theme. Shanghai bars would be tucked away, found with difficulty and sophisticated in their approach. Here there were lots of shiny surfaces, lots of technology. They both sensed it straight away, but struggled past the feeling. If they were going to spend all their time saying 'it's not Shanghai' then their lives were going to be very miserable indeed.

Propped at the bar, the dancing swirled around them. It was something to actually hear loud music. The implants made the sound irrelevant. Why have audio speakers when you could send a signal straight to the auditory neurons ? As was the nature of these things though, it was incredibly anti-social. Something about a shared space, dancing and the volume raised changed the whole nature of it.

"Don't say it." Jie said.

Wei smiled. No, he wasn't going to say it. Girls danced, or drifted past. Some would glance in their direction. The giggling with their friends.

"So?" Wei asked.

"Those two. Over there."

"No. How about the tall two over there."

They hesitated, then joined in the dancing. In a moment or two, with the movement, it felt better. Maybe the far west was not as bad as its reputation. Maybe it will work out. Maybe it won't be like a prison sentence. Jie found himself dancing with a tall girl with dark hair. She smiled, and shook her hair.

"You're new." she said.

"Yes. My first trip to Chengdu."

"Like it?"

"It's different. To Shanghai."

An

It was sort of clunky, An and Chun sitting in the press area at the assembly. If anyone wanted to view the proceedings, they were always available. They had discussed this in "future of journalism" in their last course. Keeping in favour was important. If they were perceived as critical of the leadership, they would be cut off from interviews, doomed to simply replaying releases and gathering idle chatter.

Chun scanned through the day's proceedings.

"The transport plan. Extension of the ultrafast train line into Western Africa."

"Hardly controversial. Throw in a cultural highlight. Does the route go through anywhere interesting?"

"You're not going to like this. Sahara desert."

"Colourful."

An found herself alone, reflecting on their discussion with the President. She liked the idea of a female President, it was a real sign that they were leaving the past behind.

Chinese politics had changed a lot. Yes, there were still hard edges, boundaries that you could not cross. The leadership had learned that soft power was so much more powerful. She wondered about that. There seemed to be lots of hidden stuff. While Chun was doing the hard yards with the railway people, she scanned through her list of contacts. Who did she know that knew about this sort of thing? Spinning the list of contacts through a semantic filter based on their declared profiles. At first she didn't even remember the name.

Then flooding back, came the night. She actually blushed. Remembering searching the floor of his flat, looking for her clothes in the dark. Only finding half of them, the important ones, and leaving the rest behind. Was she really going to do this? They had never met again, never even had any sort of interaction. What was the sex like? She could only half remember. How long ago was this? Five years. Wow.

Liao was knowledgeable in this area. Actually that was an understatement. He was now lead engineer in Sentiment - the prime company in the space. You wanted to make the population think highly of your product? They didn't call it advertising anymore. It was much more sophisticated than throwing an image, or a video at a potential customer. Especially with the implants. They actually called it emotional engineering. That preparation of the mind to be favourably disposed before the actual encounter.

Still. How on earth to do it? Remember when we did it, and I disappeared five years ago? I've changed my mind. Let's have another go. No. That wasn't going to do it.

There were whole companies based on this task also. The cheating companies they were called. Track husbands who did not want to be tracked. Where none of the networked approaches worked, they would go for the dust. Smart dust. Just the chips, with enough battery to last for the day. No packaging though. Just raw. Dust particle size.

Straying husband goes to a cafe in the morning. Your operator from Cheaters places enough particles on the target. A simple sprinkle of dust somewhere on his clothing. For the whole of that day, the dust transmits to their receivers placed across the city. Even above the transport networks, some even deep underground. Unless husband becomes aware of the dust, he's become a blip on a map. Some provided real-time coverage. It was fancy stuff, but often lead to some spectacular street scenes. Husband half-clothed being chased from mistresses flat.

Problem was Liao would not take kindly to being dusted. He would have scanners at work. His company was high tech enough to have them at the front door. This would not end well. She pictured 'junior reporter prosecuted under the tagging laws'. It wasn't good. It was dangerous.

No, it would have to be something a bit less risky. Liao and An find themselves at the same social function, on the same golf course. Something like that.

Chun struggled to keep her eyelids from drooping. Trying to look fascinated by the answers the transport guru was enthusiastically providing.

"We had lots of issues when we got to 1200km/hr. Even the smallest resonance can lead to collisions with the tunnel wall. You can imagine the momentum of a fully loaded train at that speed."

Actually she couldn't. She really had slept through most of her science courses.

In the end, An had settled on a swimming pool. It appeared in Liao's traces. She didn't even need the tagging company. Every Tuesday and Thursday he swam at 6am in a pool near his company. Early riser, she thought. Maybe the early bird captures the emotional computing market.

She didn't need to rely on him recognising her. He was famous enough that it would be credible if she recognised him. Tuesday came, and she found herself doing laps, very badly at the pool. It was surprising how many people there were filtering up and down. Fortunately there was one slow lane where she could do her hopeless breaststroke up and back.

How to make sure they met? She was hardly able to run casually into him in the change room. She had to position herself between where he climbed out of the pool and the men's change room. How many laps would he do though? She could hardly linger there for too long. Almost all of the swimmers left at the shallow end, so she settled on taking small excursions out from that end to around halfway, then doubling back.

Then, there he was, heading for the steps out of the pool. She went for the other side, out and walking quickly. Almost bumping straight into him. Stepping away.

"I'm sorry." she paused. Instant recognition would be suspicious. She smiled. Her best smile. The smile that worked on him last time. "Oh. You remind me of somebody ...It is you. Liao."

He hesitated. There was an element there of the 'remember who you are now. You are a powerful, public figure'. There was a moment of recognition.

"It's me, An. We were at University together."

She wasn't going to say 'we slept together' was she?

"It really is you." He smiled.

"You have time for a coffee?" he asked. "There is a great place I go to across the street."

"Sure."

It was important not to jump to the chase here. Lots of catching up, and histories. Who was were, who was famous and who was not. Who was rich and quickly skipping over who was not.

"You are the guru of emotional computing." she said.

"I wouldn't say guru. We are one of the biggest companies in that area. It's a very large area. Lots of different aspects."

Again, the steady way.

"Planting lost memories of the smell of potato chips. So when the customer opens the packet, they feel like they are going home."

He smiled. It was a cursory and perhaps fairly accurate description of what they actually did. Still, it was cute enough not to raise his suspicions.

"You make it sound like mind programming. Brainwashing. It's not. I know that many people are critical of what we do, but we are not as people say we are."

She didn't say what she felt like saying. Hey, fella, it's my mind. How dare you trawl around and manipulate my sub-conscious. Instead she smiled and changed the subject.

"I work with Chun. You remember her?"

"Sure. What do you report on? Technology?"

Now she laughed.

"Of course not. We report on politics. The other day we even met the President."

He was impressed. She told the story in all its glory. Keeping away from the emotional computing. Making sure they could talk again, but not enough to make him suspicious. Soon enough he made his excuses and left. There was no need to exchange details. Since they both, momentarily, enabled contact in the implants, enough went back and forth.

Back at the assembly, Chun was sitting staring into the middle distance.

"Riveting. Really riveting." she said.

An told her of her visit. Chun was intrigued.

"Emotional computing. What's the angle? China leads the world in new technology. One of those cheerleader pieces?"

"No. I'm wondering about soft power and the networks. Emotional engineering and politics."

Chun looked startled.

"Brainwashing to follow the party." she said.

"That would be the 20th century version. No, not at all. The pre-cognitive stuff. Getting the masses lined up the right direction."

"Oh, boy. We are going to be famous for 60 seconds before they execute us."

"I hope not."

Michael

He kept having the thought at work: 'they know'. Should he tell them? What was the protocol for dating the boss's daughter in a large Chinese multinational company? For that matter what was the protocol in a Portugese company? There were no Portugese multinational companies. He realised he had no idea. She didn't raise it, so he kept silent.

Training. He wanted to say: 'I have all these degrees from one of your best Universities and you think I need more training?' Even he realised that perhaps this was not a good idea. So quietly he sat in the back row. Problem was that late night dating and early morning classes did not go well together. He imagined the room surveillance with the lasers tracking his eyelids, connected straight to personnel. Apart from the odd glance from the instructor, nothing. There was an exam at completion anyway.

Most of the course was familiar. Especially the early stuff. As they got to the third day, though, he noticed that the simulations were unfamiliar. He began to pay closer attention.

How to define culture? In an individual it was difficult to even detect. Take it back to a population as a whole, less so. Larger populations, when you got to the billions were more observable.

Then on the last day, it got to where he didn't recognise any of it. A session on "artificial culture creation". With examples. Some singer called "Justin Bieber" and a thing called YouTube. The first creation of a sub-culture. Finally they got to cults. Going beyond selling products to whole sub-cultures. With the implants they could track the whole process in real time. It changed everything.

He had joked about the course with Ah Lam. She, of course, had completed an earlier version. The exam was not a problem, although he imagined some calculation of his expected score, compared with the actual score triggering an alert. It didn't happen.

His immediate supervisor, Lin Biao, was easy enough. Mid 30's. Thin, semi-athletic. Line all the management up and you'd have trouble distinguishing them, Michael thought. When he described Michael's role in the project, again there was the reaction to throw it back: 'give me something that is actually a stretch'. He was new, he told himself, you don't do that.

A music sub-culture. They had a set of artists, a series of projections. No need for special rooms, or equipment. With a network, and the implants they could release and have a whole population watching it in seconds. Michael's job was to analyse response, for five distinct methods of introduction. It was routine. Beyond routine. He guessed that part of this was to see how he responded. If he accepted the task meekly then that was not good. If he threw the task back in their faces, then that also was not good. Middle path, he figured, middle path.

As they became an item, and as time went on, the question of her family raised itself. Not in the sense of wedded bliss, but definitely in the sense of various social events. She suggested several that they might like to attend together. One stood out. The rooftop party.

Yes, the view was breathtaking. The Bund in the distance, glittering glass reaching towards the heavens. More impressive though was the garden itself. Modelled on a traditional Chinese garden, it required hand cultivation, by humans.

When the human waiter approached him with a tray of drinks he just stood there. It was totally outside his experience. He had no idea what to do. She laughed so hard. For her this experience had been a constant. For him, it was like being in outer space.

"Perhaps Sir would prefer a white wine." In perfect English. He wondered momentarily what would happen if he responded in Mandarin, but he already knew that it would be seamless.

"Thanks."

At least he was providing entertainment.

Inevitably, there was the moment where he found himself in front of her parents. He was both nervous, but also with a nagging 'how the hell did I end up here' feeling. This luxury, this life, was what he had aspired to when he left Portugal.

The CEO looked different. More human. His wife looked both too young to be her mother, and at the same time obviously her mother. Money, he thought, money, it does strange things.

"I hear only good things, he said," Everyone smiled, as if on cue.

"I'm really enjoying it." He lied. Everyone smiled again.

At work, he just decided he had to dive in. Not knowing anyone gave him an excuse to wander. In the distance at the far end of the office he made out a swirling, highly dynamic display. It looked like a flock of birds before sunset, diving and swarming. Like it had a mind of its own, suddenly thousands of them turning ninety degrees all of a sudden.

It was coming from Bhavin, he discovered by looking at the network management. In a sense he should not, but being new he could argue that he had stumbled on it by accident. At least for a few times.

"Yours? He asked." Smiling. Bhavin was young, Indian and very thin.

"You are new, aren't you?"

"Yes. Michael, from Portugal." He wondered if he would ever feel like 'Michael, from Shanghai.' "Can you tell me about it?"

"Sure. You've done the course?" Michael nodded. "This is a trace of simple culture formation. We introduce memes based on the system state. Rather than just scatter them out there. We find that it's not a linear process. There are critical developmental times. Critical epochs. By concentrating our efforts on those steps, we get much better results."

He did the show and tell. Sure enough, it stuck together with the higher quality stuff. Michael thanked him, and returned to his desk.

It was only much later, when he had time, waiting that he remembered what the image reminded him of. Way back in high school, they had grown a bee colony.

There were parts of the company that were hidden from him. Sure, if he thought about it, he might be able to break in, but it was way beyond something that could be construed as casual straying.

Nights out were always an adventure. She knew the city so well. There were the parts where she had been forbidden to go. Now that she was an adult, and perhaps now that she was not alone, she wanted to explore. It suited Michael's purposes as well. If this was going to be home then he wanted to know it better.

He finished the first task, and moved on. Now they gave him something to actually make. For the first time he had a feeling of satisfaction. This was non-trivial. He had to construct a system to select memes based on the system state, to give the most rapid growth rate. Again it reminded him of the bee colony, but at least it was a challenge, and not just a menial task.

One night though he went out on his own. It had become a novelty. Every time it was together. Maybe he wanted to remind himself that he could do it. That for all of his life up to this point he had been solitary. That, if needed, he could be solitary again.

From bar to bar, he was unenthusiastic about the drinking. What had he seen in this, that he had pursued it so long?

He could not make him out clearly. In a crowd at the Platinum. Was it him? Shuffling through the crowd required numerous apologies. He tried moving parallel to get a clearer view. Yes, it was him. Pedro was the only other Portugese in the company. He had not paid him much attention, but now, after a few drinks he was suddenly sentimental about it all.

"Pedro." He shouted.

He swung around, confused.

"It's me. Michael from the company." He said in Portugese.

Now he was bewildered, at the use of his native language. He could see his face clearly. In a flash of recognition.

"Of course. The new guy. Sit." He said. "How are you finding it?"

"Up and till this week it was pretty boring. But my new project is great."

There were rules about talking about their work. Strict rules. Chatter was ok. Details were strictly off limits. It wasn't clear how tightly that was monitored.

"How long since you left Portugal?" Pedro asked.

"Four years now. I have only been back a few times. It's expensive when you are a student."

Implicit in that was that he was looking forward to more visits. Pedro gazed into the middle distance.

"I went through a phase of visiting. This is my seventh year. Both my parents died, gradually, painfully." He paused, took a drink. "I became more accustomed to Shanghai. It's good to be at the centre of things."

They chatted some more about Portugal, although Michael could see that Pedro was reluctant. In a sense he was trying to make a Chinese version of himself. As long as he didn't look in the mirror, didn't interact with non-Chinese people, he was fine. He kept to a well worn path, work, home, shopping at the same places. Everyone knew who he was, and treated him as a local. Then, every now and then, he slipped outside that narrow path. Even a block either way, and it happened. Somebody would take him for a tourist. The spell would be broken, and in a strange way it broke a small part of his heart. It reminded him of the divided nature of his being. More and more he didn't want to be reminded of that. Sure, he knew he was a fake Chinese. Better that than a broken person.

Michael tried to steer the conversation towards work. He edged closer and closer to the boundary.

"I'm amazed by the culture learning. It has progressed so far."

"We have worked hard on that. It is improving, yes."

"I imagine that it is very effective in media, the commercial space. Are there other applications?" Michael asked, innocently. He glanced across, and was silent. There was no reply from Pedro, but with the drinks, with the homesickness it was as if Michael, briefly, glanced deep into what Pedro was thinking. It was such a brief moment, he almost thought he was seeing things. Later, though, he realised what he had seen. A look of fear.

Nguyen

The day after the graduation ceremony, they went in different directions. In the very early morning, Alan and Nguyen boarded the express to Bangkok, then a shuttle to Phuket. Intent on blowing off steam, lying beside the sea and blowing off steam. Paradoxically, Xi, the rich kid, did precisely the opposite. Xi, who if he thought about it, might never have to work a day in his life, hit the recruiting trail. It made sense in that almost all of his competitors would also be blowing off steam.

As the shuttle train pulled into Khao Lak, the three musketeers were briefly united in a shared two-dimensional space. Holographic conferencing was expensive while they were mobile.

"Party time." Alan said.

"I'm off to my first interview." Xi said.

"We don't want to know. We just don't want to know." they both shouted.

The shuttle pulled up to the hotel, on the first floor. Illusions of people to carry their luggage, and illusions of a check in counter. What was it about the representations that gave them away? It wasn't just that they knew how it all worked. Perhaps it was the lack of imperfections. Sometimes Alan had the urge to do a Turing test on them. Ask them about playing in the mud, or the red dust of the outback. What was it like to camp under the stars at night? 'You're losing it." he told himself.

It was true. Months and months of tension in the run up to graduation. It got so that it was the way they lived. Such a constant part of life that you genuinely forgot that there were other worlds. Other ways of living. Blowing off steam was necessary to reconnect with life. Only four hours from Shanghai to Bangkok, another hour and they were there.

"That Xi is a maniac." Alan said.

"Insane. Yes. Maybe it's his family. Everyone is like him. It's the way they do things."

Alan thought for a moment on that. What would his family do? They worked hard, but at the end of the week there would be the rituals. A barbecue, a night in the bush. Something like that. He imagined it was the same for Nguyen.

Their hotel was middle level. Still, it had the pool, it had the beach. Perhaps Xi would say that an afternoon in the simulator was just as good. Strangely though, it wasn't. Just the act of travelling a few hours changed their mindset. It was contrived, of course. The change in their nervous system was real enough though. Like a taut rubber band relaxing for the first time in too many months.

A little luxury. Their own small boat. A platform with lounges and a drink station. It took them out beyond the surf break, and out into the deep water. They could sleep in the deck chairs and it would keep itself positioned in the same location. If they ran out of drinks, a re-supply would come automatically via a tiny raft.

"This is the life." Alan said

"No, this is life." Nguyen said.

Xi stood outside the headquarters of CultureMeld. All of the courting phases of employment happened on the network. Sifting of targets for both the candidates and the companies. Trawling through study records, references, all of that. Xi had studied CultureMeld's history. The founders, early days. Competitors. When it came to the decision making, all of that was done in person. No holographic interviews. They had to sit in the same room and eyeball each other. There were still mysterious aspects of human communication that were very difficult to digitise.

In the express lift to the 45th floor, he began to get nervous. For a brief moment he thought of his two friends, and how he should have joined them. It was his way of pushing back against the life of luxury. He was tired of being seen always as an afterthought to his family's success. He was striking out. He was making his own life.

Then the seemingly endless wait in the outer office. It was one thing to be aware that there were other candidates. Another to be waiting for them to finish. Imagining them being welcomed to the company, leaving him out in the cold. He shook the thoughts off, reminding himself that this was day one. It all started here.

He was ushered into the room. Perhaps for some of the candidates the emptiness, the sweeping view, the expensive architecture might have distracted them. Not Xi though - this was where he lived. He had never known anything else. A trim middle-aged man greeted him, and ushered him to a seat facing the panel. Just him on one side and the five of them on the other.

"I am Xiao, technical director, and these people are..."

One by one he introduced them. All of a similar age, all with a serious expression. Three men, two women. One of them was personnel. Xiao continued.

"We can of course dispense with questions about your technical knowledge. There is no doubt on your abilities in that direction." he sat back. "Tell us what you know about CultureMeld."

Xi had expected questions along these lines, and he had studied the company well. They nodded as he went through the story. Not too much embellishment. Just enough to indicate his eagerness to work with them.

"You are familiar with our company's products. Perhaps you can give us an outline of our market position."

This was dangerous territory. He wasn't to presume. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"CultureMeld is a pioneer in culture generation and distribution, development. You have the best performing uptake. Measured by product sales, yours is the most effective. There are several new competitors..."

He was careful to treat the competitors seriously. They didn't want a disciple, they wanted someone with a critical mind. They looked at each other. The interview had been going for the requisite 40 minutes. He had the feeling that it was going according to plan.

"Perhaps you could discuss for us the social impact of these new technologies? What do you see as the potential problems, and how might we deal with these problems?"

For a brief moment, Xi was startled. This was not the sort of question he was expecting.

"It has profound social impacts. It reaches further and deeper, and much more rapidly. Still, it is simply the latest in a long line of technologies. The invention of paper, and writing transformed society in ways that the inventors could never have anticipated. All of a sudden a complex idea could be transcribed onto a physical object and transported to groups on the planet that the author had never met, and might not even know that they existed. It connected the world. What we are dealing with is really just a more sophisticated version of paper."

He paused. Their eyes told him he was on the right track. In a sense he was reciting the company song. As an interviewee, what else could he do?

"The real concern is access. I would suggest is in the interests of the company to improve access to the space. Especially for those groups without the finance."

They nodded. Again, this was showing enough awareness and enough critical thought but not too much. It moved the interview onto the next stage, where they shook hands and ushered him on, advising him that he would hear their decision soon.

Alan and Nguyen tired of swimming, and headed the platform in the direction of the shore. It was late in the day, and the sun was swinging over the top of the hills behind the hotel.

"Which place?" Alan asked.

"Does it matter? Why not try them all?" Nguyen said.

In the early evening, as was the nature of these things, the young men in groups walked up and down the main street, as did the young girls. As if by accident, the groups would encounter each other, and smile, and joke. New groups would form and move in different directions.

At a table with a view of the ocean, their new friends: two local girls looked excited and keen to learn more about them.

"You are both from Shanghai?" the tall girl asked Alan

"Yes. Well Shanghai now. I'm from Australia, and Nguyen is from Vietnam.

She turned to her friend. "I am Alice and she is Susan. We came here from Bangkok, looking for work straight after school. We are from the UK originally."

"You are travellers?"

She nodded.

"Yes. We have a plan to go together. Starting west, to Africa and then north to Europe."

Alan sat back in his chair. Looked across at Nguyen. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, this holiday. He thought of the future. All he could see was a river of code stretching out to infinity.

"What will you do for money?" he asked.

"We are both qualified as resort operators. Apparently there are a lot of new resorts, with the latest robots, and a shortage of people to run them." she smiled. "We travel a bit, then work a bit. How about you?"

Alan smiled.

"We are both coders. I think we will both chase jobs in Shanghai."

"Big city." she said.

"Yes."

After a while, Alan and Nguyen made an excuse about being tired after the travel, and made their way back to the hotel. They decided to walk.

"The nomadic life." Alan said.

"It is appealing at the start." Nguyen said. "I come from a tourist town. I met lots of people like those two. When you are 18 it sounds great. Off you go, every day an adventure. Then, years later, you find yourself alone and cast adrift with no ties. The lustre fades. In the end you are just another bum circling the planet."

"You are wise beyond your years." Alan smiled.

Zeno

Maybe it was his mother. She was familiar with China, although she had only visited a few times. It gave her a handle on it. Did she think that the connection would give Zeno some special insight? Or was it just that at the end of it all, as he approached adulthood, that she was aware that she had to let go?

Of course he was not going to get lost. The only place that he could actually get totally lost was in the bush west of his home. Even then he had to turn off all of the systems. It was a complete novelty, to stand in a landscape and have no guidance, no bearings. To Zeno it called him, it gave him feelings that were so deep that they frightened him.

In Shanghai, heading for his future, his education. In the space of a few hours he had gone from the remote ends of the economy, the limit of civilisation, to its actual centre. If he stayed in Australia he could of course have his choice of University, with its monstrous fees and expensive living conditions. Courtesy of his mental strengths though, he had the full scholarship with allowance at the Shanghai Institute of Technology.

In a sense it was familiar. His courses were much more interesting than the high school equivalent. A bit strange programming just with a screen, and without the holographic displays. A bit like going back to riding a bicycle after you are used to travelling by high speed train - it slowed things down and that wasn't a bad thing. His classmates were so much more homogenous - everyone lived for code, knew the history of artificial intelligence. There was the opportunity for conversations that he would never have dreamed of. Rather than being strange, and foreign, it was as if he had stepped into home. It was an old overcoat, familiar, and comfortable.

Without warning. In the middle of a class. A feeling. An urging. Physical. As if he could not breathe. Quickly he made his way to Huangxing Park, scanning the fields, for a quiet place amongst the trees. Then he sat, and his breathing returned to normal. He just needed a dose, a hit. Over the time in Shanghai he learned to recognise the warning signs, to seek out the park. To soak it up.

Monica

The clock radio stirred into life, with disembodied voices. Monica looked across at the time. 5:30am. Out of some weird reflex she looked across the bed. It was just a bed, with nobody there. How long had it been? Six months now. Did it hurt? She sat, on the edge of the bed. The curtains were open - if the light was coming in then it was already too late, and she should be on the way to work. No, she decided, it no longer hurt as much. It was like when you have the bandage on, but underneath the wound has healed up. It itched, it reminded you of the damage, but in actual fact you were fine.

She looked across at the coffee maker. Remembering going into the store, and asking the assistant. A human assistant - it was a very expensive store. Asking what was the best coffee maker they had. Price no object. It was when they were setting up. She came before Gerhardt and Zeno. Of course. She was essential, she made all the infrastructure happen. This was the natural division between them. Monica made the buildings, the organisation. Zeno made the software. Gerhardt made the sales. The store assistant had not hesitated. He had not gone into the 'well, there are many variables to making coffee, our makers are high quality'. No. He had walked straight to the centre of the display, and stood in front of this one. 'I have this maker' he said. She had no reason to doubt him. It was more than double the price of the others. She didn't hesitate.

It did its thing quietly, then the compressor roared into life. Then, exactly as it was programmed, it delivered a cup of coffee that was the equal of any in Cairns.

Tony. She thought of Tony. The wound. In St Kilda, Melbourne. At their favourite coffee shop on the esplanade. Smalltalk dispensed with, he got to the point.

"You can't leave Melbourne." he said. "What for?"

The day before Zeno and Gerhardt had been brimming with excitement. Storming into her office. Her corporate open office, where she was operations manager.

"300 million dollars." Zeno had shouted. "It's really going to happen."

Their stage zero capital raising. All these months they had huddled in back rooms, writing proposals. Then re-writing proposals. Talking to advisors. Hustling. It got so the process took ownership of them. Zeno and Gerhardt had both quit their jobs. She was still hanging on, being cautious. That wasn't like her. Now that she looked back on it, she was holding on to Tony.

The Italian family. Tony with the banking job. A very good banking job. Monica was mid 30's. It was like life offered up a single time point with all of the decisions to be made in an instant.

"Melbourne is dying. You can't see it because you don't want to see it." she said.

Better to talk in generalities. Rather than 'I've seen the future. Our children. I don't want any of it.'

"Follow the crowd, is that it? Everyone heads north so you just follow them?"

"You're a banker. Look at the numbers. Isn't that what bankers do? Or are you going to make a decision based on emotion?"

Of course, it was she that was making the decision based on emotion. The emotion of 'get me out of here', or was it the emotion of 'my friends are more fun, and they are going to be a lot richer than you will ever be'?

He sat in silence. Yes, he knew the numbers only too well. Decades of Melbourne shrinking, fading. Once it had been the 'world's most liveable city'. It all ran on burning brown coal. Seriously. What were they thinking?

To celebrate the zero raising, they had all gone out drinking. Which was a strange thing to do, as Monica and Gerhardt did not drink. On this day though, they did.

"I don't believe it. Really?" Monica asked.

"Really. Mostly from China. Some from Malaysia. A couple of rich Australians." Zeno said.

"To us." they had toasted. Later they had danced. Very clumsily, they had danced.

She had stumbled into their flat very late. It must have been 4am. She looked at Tony asleep in the bed. Stood there, for what seemed an eternity. How drunk was she? Drunk enough to have real trouble with the stairs. Drunk enough to struggle with the front door. Suddenly, though, she was sober. Looking around, she discounted the objects one by one. Taking only a small hologram of her mother. It projected - turned off it was tiny. Baggage. She thought about baggage. Life was either a process of accumulating baggage, or discarding it.

Where did that shaking come from? As she quietly closed the front door, and stood in the hallway, she shook. It seemed to her that everything she knew, all of the familiarities, were so tenuous. Surely she could just put it aside, and humbly march into the future with Tony. The quiet wife. The 'don't mind about me' wife. Even though she was shaking, she put one foot in front of the other, and headed for the airport. Not once had she looked back.

In the very early morning as the car skirted around the esplanade in the direction of the building - their building - she knew that she was exactly where she should be. Walking in the main entrance, the sensors picked her up and lit her path. Anticipating her, based on sensing who she was, and knowing her morning routine. If she ventured in a different direction, it would recover, and adjust. It was as if the building were alive, and an extension of herself.

After her second coffee, Zeno and Gerhardt arrived within seconds of each other. As if they were tracking each other.

"One day we will arrive and you won't be here, and we will have no idea what to do." Zeno said. Gerhardt just smiled.

"I have your mission." she said. "Julius Zanovich."

He appeared in the top left of their field of view. He looked young, serious. He could have been any of their programmers.

"You are going to pay him a visit." she said.

"Why?" Gerhardt asked.

"You. Both of you are going to persuade this boy to come and work for us."

"Seriously? The normal channels. He applies, we interview. We all charge off to the promised land."

She sat back.

"If that would work, would I be sending you?"

"Since when do we persuade..."

Monica had that look. The look that said 'stop wasting my time. I'm not bullshitting you. If there was another way, we would be doing it.' She continued.

"Critical paths. What is a make or break for us?" she asked.

"Hippocampus. Activation, persistence. So this dude is good at this?"

"Study his profile, then do the deed." she said.

So it was that Zeno and Gerhardt found themselves in a car heading south, along the coast.

"Star." Zeno said. The profile didn't lie. A string of jobs in Shanghai. Top technology companies, significant projects.

"Profile doesn't tell give you the important stuff, though. What is he doing here?"

Gerhardt turned to take in the view. The morning surfers were just visible in the distance, bobbing beyond the outer break.

"A drop out? Just wants to surf?"

"Nothing about surfing in there. Maybe there is a girl."

"Isn't there always a girl? Maybe there was a girl. In Shanghai."

"Did you search?"

"Not seriously. I don't want him picking up traces that we were digging. He wouldn't like that."

"No. I guess not."

It would take them another fifteen minutes to get there. He was expecting them. Monica was confident that he would listen to proposals.

"Here?" Gerhardt asked. They had come to a stop outside a house just back from the beach. It wasn't that unusual except for one striking feature. It was painted purple. The roof, the outside walls, and as far as they could see the inside. All purple. Zeno laughed.

"Different. Yes."

The door opened as they approached, automatically. So at least that was a good sign.

He was sitting, staring out to sea. At least the furniture was not purple.

"Bit of a fan of purple, are you?" Zeno said. They had to start somewhere.

Julius laughed. "Yes. Always have been, and now I can indulge my eccentricities."

Zeno looked across at Gerhardt. Although Gerhardt was the salesman, the professional communicator, this was not your normal persuasion exercise.

Zeno continued.

"I'm sure that Monica explained why we are interested in you."

"Yes. She was very persuasive."

"You have worked in culture systems quite extensively. I am sure you understand the importance for our company. We aim to create a new type of system."

"Target the hippocampus."

"Yes. Of course."

"You have a small army of computer scientists. Why add to the army?"

"The skill set you have..."

Zeno trailed off. Gerhardt filled the gap. This was, after all, his territory.

"We rate you the best."

He laughed.

"Small pond. How does the saying go, big fish, small pond?"

"You are too modest." Gerhardt looked to Zeno. Zeno looked to Julius. They all sat for a moment, until Julius stood up.

"OK. Tell me exactly why I should come and work for you, and not get on a plane back to Shanghai."

Zeno thought of pointing to the scenery. That would result, he expected, in a 'you can't eat scenery' discussion.

"Our company is new. Young. Exciting. You could grind away on some third rate product in one of the Shanghai top twenty, where you might have three bosses to report to, and a set of meetings. With us you have your own team, and you report to us. We aim to grow to be the most important company in this space."

Julius just smiled.

"Ok."

Jie

Jie soon tired of the dancing, and they moved to a table. He ordered drinks.

"I've only been to Shanghai once." she said. "It was exciting, and so busy."

"Now I'm at a research lab in the far north west. It doesn't get much quieter than that." he grinned.

"Why put a research lab there?"

"Decentralisation policy. They want us all to populate the countryside."

"So you will be here for a while? You might come to Chengdu again?"

This was the modern protocol. No need to exchange details. Jie found that he had a one time ticket. It showed up in the top right of his visual feed. It really was one-time. No way to trace it. If he decided to come to Chengdu again, then he could make contact just that once. He searched the dance floor for Wei, and spotted him in the distance. Wei got a message, and replied. All sub-vocal.

They made their excuses, and sat quietly as the car took them back to the train. An hour later and they would be back at the lab.

"Bright lights." Jie said. "Girls. What else could you want?"

Wei looked into the darkness.

"Sure. Sure."

They sat in silence for the rest of the trip. Yes, it wasn't far to Chengdu. No, it just did not feel the same. Shanghai had a pull, an energy that was hard to explain.

Next morning they had more of the orientation, and their assignment to a workgroup. His group leader, Jun was late 20's and subdued. It was his first experience at management - they realised that four or five years ago he had been a raw recruit like them. Still, the place was so clean, and new. The air was unpolluted - amazingly unpolluted. Shanghai air was relatively clean. He had seen pictures of the bad old days when they were still burning coal. Here the air was cold - it almost took your breath away.

At coffee break, the two of them sought a table away from the rest.

"How is your group?" Wei asked

"Good. Quiet. They are all quiet." Jie said.

The implication was that it was a backwater. That they were going to fade away here.

"What did you make of Wen?" Jie asked

"It's deflating to meet a legend. You forget that they are human. I think I prefer the idealised Wen that I had in my mind before."

Jie laughed. So true.

"How about his points? On active agency?"

"I don't understand the argument. Is it all about complexity?"

"No. It's more than that. Remember the blotting paper argument. Take simple perception. It's not that recognition is a process of finding the way through a maze to a label that says 'this is a sabre tooth tiger'. Yes, our systems are large, but it can't work that way. There has to be a priming, at least a priming of a list of possibilities."

"Not photographic."

"No. Not at all. Once you say that abstraction is needed, then you have agency. Each incarnation has its own version of reality."

They both paused. Perhaps this place, this remote place, was where they could work these things out. Maybe you needed the emptiness. You needed to clear the mind to enable the possibility of something new.

At lunchtime, there was a bustle of activity. Everyone left their desks, and headed out. Jun looked back, and saw that he had failed to explain.

"It's the run. Everyone runs. You don't have to. Maybe you could come and watch." he smiled.

Sure enough there was a mass exodus. They sure took it seriously. Jie and Wei were not quite the only spectators. There was a small faction that was not inclined towards running. Only ten or so though. It seemed that it was compulsory in a sense to at least watch.

"Wow. Serious." Wei said. Jie laughed.

"Maybe we will have to take up running."

Jie watched for a while, then drifted back to his workstation. He gestured with his hand, and it engaged with the implants again. A holographic reference space, devoted to cultural systems.

Cultural systems were born when it was realised that you could modify the user space. Plant some ideas and they propagate. Others are stillborn. Given a set of users, what will take hold and what will not? Through the 2020's the field developed steadily.

Wei found an archive of systems, and decided to get each of them running. The older ones needed him to edit text setup files, and run scripts. It was quite primitive. After a few hours work, he had a sequence of them running, and he could record them to show later. It showed a sharp divide - before implants, and after. The newer systems were instrumented more finely - they had instant feedback from the implants. There were only a few field studies in open view. He sat back, and let it run through again.

Later Jie waited for Wei. It was a long walk back to their accommodation. It was part of the lab. Everyone lived there. It gave it sort of a University feel. More relaxed, no fighting with the traffic. For them, though, it was more of the same. After years of campus living, a traffic jam would have been interesting.

"Get far?" Wei asked.

So he took Jie through the systems he had assembled.

"Some of these are really ancient."

"I had to get in and edit script files. I'd almost forgotten how to do it."

Their units were part of a stairway. Six clustered together, with the two of them on the top floor. Their neighbours had decided on having dinner out in the nearby town. Altay was so small it hardly featured on the map. Just a tourist stop on the way to the border.

So it was that the six of them shared a table. The two locals were excited to have someone from the new lab in their restaurant. Maybe it would lead to more business.

Tim was the oldest of the four. Plus, he was an American, and that was unusual. In any case he did most of the talking. The other three were Teresa, Ellie and Frank. All from the UK. It gave their stairway a real international flavour.

"Where you from originally?" Jie asked Tim.

"San Francisco. I was born there. Great place. I miss it. The bridge, the trams. All of it."

"So how did you end up here?"

"Sense of adventure. I did my degree here. I guess you could say I was following the money. Good scholarship, good living allowance. No debt. If I was back home by now I would have a huge debt."

"I don't understand." Jie said.

"Understand what?"

"Well, over your lifetime, what will you contribute to the economy? Maybe you will start a business, employ hundreds of people. Maybe even thousands. Why put you in debt?"

Tim grinned.

"You can see why America has a GDP 1/5 the size of China. You know that only thirty years ago they were the same size?"

"Yes. It's clear to see in the numbers, but I can't imagine it."

"Plus the crime. You can't really walk the streets. It's not how I wanted to live."

These were all things that Jie was aware of, but had never actually met somebody who had experienced them.

How about you? Jie asked Ellie and Frank.

"Same story really. If you want to work in the UK you have to be in finance. So we came here."

Just then the food came, and they were silent while they ate. There was something about village food that made them hungrier. No matter how hard they tried, the lab food was institutionalised. Or maybe it was the novelty of human prepared food.

"What have they assigned you?"

"Cultural systems." Wei said.

"Interesting." Ellie said. "I worked on them for my thesis. Not since then."

Tim smiled.

"You've seen the latest then? Tianjin?"

"I looked at it. Interesting spread, take up."

"You didn't look at the incidents?"

Now the others looked uncomfortable. This was taking them into territory that they were not supposed to be involved in. As a research lab they had benefits, and isolation. That was the upside. The downside was that they were meant to stay above the everyday. Not take commercial work, for example. Especially not meddle in politics.

Jie was searching, and he didn't see anything either. Or he saw things that referenced it, but not the event itself. It was as if there had been some incident. No images or record of the image itself, or the aftermath. A stone thrown into a pond, with the ripples spreading outward. He only picked up the outer ripples.

Jie hesitated. The others were clearly uncomfortable with Tim. Their eyes said 'make him stop'.

"I'll look into it." Wei said, and hoped that someone would steer the conversation into safer territory.

"Ah. Here is desert." Frank said.

An

"What's your interest in the emotional computing?" Chun asked. "Isn't it just nerdy stuff that makes the back pages of the technology section? Only nerds are interested."

An paused.

"Soft power. You did the history classes. Time was there were weekly riots when the authorities did something or other. You read about the pollution riots?"

"Yes. Incredible. So violent. Still, where would we be today without them."

The assembly had enough glass that you could see the sky quite clearly. In their history classes they studied the time when you would not have been able to walk down the street here without choking, stopping, coughing. Suddenly, the riots. Within five years they had shut down the last of the coal fired power stations. Then they started to move the steel plants. It took time, many were sceptical. Then, gradually, the air had cleared.

"When was the last riot?" An asked.

Chun paused. Two years ago? Five years ago? She turned to the network, and searched for significant riots in China. Then asked for a graph. It was telling. An could see it also. She nodded.

"Do I ask for an overlay of the deployment of emotional computing?" she asked. She did, although both of them knew what it would show.

"Shit."

The timing was perfect. Decline in riots matched perfectly the rise in deployment.

"Don't do it." Chun said.

"What?"

An looked around, for the site of likely cameras. Then she moved her body to block their view. Of course in the assembly there were plenty of them, for security. Chun took out a pencil, and wrote a note on a piece of paper. An was stunned. Nobody did that. She took the note.

It said: ".. don't search for government funding of emotional computing."

An's face betrayed nothing.

"Are we going to do a follow up on the Africa rail story? Maybe they will send us there to get some footage?"

Slowly, she walked towards the exit. They both walked nonchalantly down the wide avenue. Until they reached the alleys. A cut left into a tiny coffee bar. Very tiny. Favoured by people at the assembly when they wanted a place where there were no cameras, and no microphones. Not that microphones were needed with the implants. If you were not careful, your thoughts would betray you.

They had practiced this at their University. Not that it was on the curriculum. It came from the practising journalists. If you didn't have the implants then you were not going to get a job in the assembly. There were going to be times when you had to hide things though. It was a mental discipline. It took practice.

Chun had more paper, and two pens.

"You really want to chase this?" An wrote

"Yes."

"It's dangerous."

"So is getting out of bed in the morning."

It was not a heated argument. The choices were clear. Puff pieces for the government on rail builds, pollution reduction schemes, the five year plan. Or chasing this. They considered the possibilities for another meeting. Given who they were chasing, it was almost impossible to operate in the dark if you were in their sights. So a lot of the obvious ways were excluded.

How do you hack a company that specialises in tapping into people's thoughts? Let's start with the easy stuff, Chun had said, raising her eyebrows. Certainly not by any sort of conventional approach. Liao himself, his technology, his flat. All would be highly protected. More to the point, any sort of intervention would trigger an alarm somewhere. They had some ideas, but they decided to consult - it wasn't something like they could ask someone inside the publishing house, or anywhere that was connected. It had to be outside, in the nether world, someone who could not be traced. A friend of a friend, some loose connections and they found themselves across a table in a cafe talking to Michael. He was smiling.

"You want to die. Painfully." he said, and smiled. A disarming smile.

"How did you get into this business?" Chun had asked.

"It's a long story. You've got the ratings."

Impeccable ratings. He had scores that were two standard deviations clear of his rivals. Clearly he should have been working somewhere on one of the high floors, drawing an incredible salary.

"It's a story. You know the parameters. We want to chase this story. Our data indicates you are sympathetic to this direction."

"Sure. I'm also sympathetic to keeping breathing."

He paused, sat back. This cafe was behind doors. Down long corridors. It had no cameras, and it was off the net. Shielding was built into the walls, the floor and the ceiling.

Michael spoke quietly.

"Firstly, forget about hacking anything. He's a pro. His company is good. I've looked at it. This is not the 2020's. We are not going to do a man-in-the middle attack to his implants, send the keys somewhere. Minutes later, we have a clear channel into the company. This is not going to happen. That's the bad news."

"The good news?" An asked.

He took out a metal capsule, about size of a small pill.

"You are going to swallow this." he said.

She looked disappointed.

"Huh? I'm going to make him radioactive?"

He laughed. "Nothing so exciting. You are going to get really close to him. As in really close."

She actually blushed. Chun was laughing. This was the intent after all, but laying it out coldly like that. Michael continued.

"Stray fields. Every electrical device, every piece of equipment radiates. Not much, but enough to detect it in free space. This pill detects it, and records it."

"Seriously?"

"Your job is to get him talking about this area in general. We can't actively probe the company. All we can do is record what comes to him, to the implants and to anything else close. Mostly the implants."

Chun leaned forward.

"Associations?"

"Stuff that is related to the conversation will be pulled in advance. It's one of the reasons the implants are so fast. No waiting for stuff over the air. It comes in advance. Not highly secure stuff. We are not going to get that. This will give us the overview though. It's impossible to hide the big picture stuff."

In the end, it fell right into their laps. A major product launch by Sentiment. He would have to be there, and she would have an excuse. Chun would ride shotgun, watching for problems and trying to extricate her if it got messy.

How interested in him was she? Not much. Still, wasn't that the territory of your 20's? Having sex with people for mostly the wrong reasons?

She found herself focussing on an object in his room, while they did it. The curtain, the door. Not quite willing herself to be outside her body. She couldn't let him realise her lack of interest. Still, he was male, he was young. He gave the impression that it had been a while since he had sex. Or at least good sex.

Fortunately they had both had a lot to drink at the launch. Chun had taken care of that. Making sure both their glasses were full. Jumping in ahead of the robots, who were programmed to be cautious. He was spontaneous. Even a little bit interesting.

In the dark, after the sex An found herself awake at four in the morning. Except this time she was not going to do a runner. Quite the opposite.

"Morning." she said, as he stirred. She was holding two coffees.

"Great." he said.

She perched on the edge of the bed, with a bathrobe on.

"You have to rush off?" she asked. In a backward kind of way, trying to discourage him from rushing off.

It was quiet for a moment.

"I love this time of morning in Shanghai. It's so peaceful." Outside his windows they could see the city stirring. The lights were still just visible. First cars, first people.

"You can't imagine living anywhere else, can you?" he said.

"I spend a lot of time in Beijing." she said.

"You mostly follow politics."

"Yes. It's highly technological these days though. Even you get involved, I see."

He grinned.

"Only in a small way. We are the largest marketing facilitators after all."

"Your family?" she asked.

"My mother is quite old. My father looks after her. I don't see them enough. How about you."

"Mine are both in great health. They trek around the world. Last I saw they were climbing up a glacier in New Zealand."

"Journalism? Is it really that interesting? I thought it was all done automatically these days?" he said.

"Well, the routine stuff is. I'm not really interested in that side of it. The human side interests me. How and why people do the things they do. The long form."

"The long form. Does anyone read it?"

"It's surprising. There are really only the two extremes. The short superficial, and the deep long form now. Yes, people do read them. Not as interesting as what you do though."

This was a bit close to trivialising what she did, but she was not going to bite. More important was to stroke the male ego into moving the conversation.

"We have third generation emotional engineering systems on trial. They work in very large populations, and the early numbers are great."

This was not beyond anything she could get from press releases. He was very, very careful. She was just hoping that the pill was doing its thing.

"How do you make them?" she asked. Dangerous stuff.

"I can't really say that much. We use small populations to fine tune them before we launch. Although it's interesting that the dynamics of the larger systems are quite different. We are learning all the time."

She thought about that. We were not a population after all, we were a dynamic system of memes, cultures and emotions.

Michael

After a few weeks, he began to feel more comfortable at work. It had it's rituals, and its ways of getting through. Quite different from graduate school though. He still couldn't tell if the others knew about his relationship with the boss's daughter.

Every morning at precisely 10:30 they marched out for coffee. Clustered in the lunch room, around the free coffee machines. A few of the locals still went with the tea option. After a few of these sessions, and the after work gatherings, he had a feel for which of the group he might have something in common with.

Xiuming was a few months ahead of him. In the same group, working on culture systems also. They seemed to share a bit in common. Maybe it was just that they shared a sense of humour about the place, and its demands. He was tall and thin: serious looking. He came from the south, which was unusual. Most of the employees seemed to come from the middle, or the north. Maybe this gave him a different take on things.

"You use the main servers or the experimental servers for model formation?" he asked him

"Depends. The quantum arrays are blindingly fast if you get things all lined up right. Mostly I'm lazy though. Go and have a coffee, just wait a little bit longer." he smiled.

"I'm a bit of a beginner. The models are so different to the ones we studied."

"Sure. No point really in studying commercial models. They change so quickly. Principles are all the same though."

Michael hesitated. It was all so circumspect here. Nobody dared to ask the obvious questions.

"I've looked at some of the case studies. It's frightening what can be done, even in a small way."

Xiuming looked away, into the middle distance. Pausing for a moment. Maybe he was deciding whether to trust him. Or maybe he was assembling his answer.

"You know the propaganda on this."

"Sure. Just like a newspaper. It conditions people's views. It's just a method of communication."

Xiuming grinned. Yes, the propaganda was as ubiquitous as the systems themselves. They came with their own self-justifying ideology. He paused again.

"So when one village is whipped into a frenzy, and goes on a violent escapade through the neighbouring village, killing several and injuring more. This is just a newspaper reading?"

Now they were really in dangerous territory. Xiuming had read the same critical studies as Michael. These were not on the company network. They were someplace, and no place. They circulated.

"What do you make of the models though?"

"Too simplistic. Simple meme propagation. Good for a day or two, but only a culture in name only."

"What do you think is missing?"

"We need to go beyond stimulus-response. Meme sustenance."

They were critical of the technology, not the motivation.

Ah Lam was not fussed by his long work hours. She seemed hardened to it - her whole family was based on this sort of work ethic. No matter how late he worked, she would greet him with a smile. She still pressured though for some special time out. One Sunday she insisted they go and walk along the Huangpu River, along the promenade, late in the afternoon. She was right, as it got darker and the city lit up, the view was incredible. It had that 'centre of the world' feel to it. In a very real sense it was everything he had aspired to back in Portugal.

She turned to him:

"Do you feel at home in Shanghai yet?"

"I was just thinking that this is exactly what I was looking for."

"Was I exactly what you were looking for, as well?"

"Yes. Of course."

He went silent, worried that she was more serious about all of this than he was. She was great company, and he liked her a lot. It was one thing to date the boss's daughter. Quite another to dump her. He didn't want to think about it. Why rock the boat ? Somehow he made an excuse about preparing for a presentation in the morning. He wanted to spend time on his own, for once. Back at the flat he sat and stared out across the city. Yes, it was the place of his dreams. Yes, it held all of the things he had been chasing. He tried to picture the town disturbance. What was going on here? What was he involved in?

Next morning they had a company wide meeting. Or at least most of the Shanghai based company. There were a few far flung branches - a research lab, some sales offices. Still, it would be at least four hundred people. They had hired out a hall, and provided transport. It reminded him of a school trip. Everyone joking and milling about, pressing into the buses.

Outside the venue, he spotted Xiuming in the distance, and shuffled his way through the crowd toward him.

"What are these things like? It's my first, of course."

"If you have not had a religious upbringing, then this will be something for you. It's part revival meeting, part psycho-therapy and part massive bonding. The idea is that we come here all downtrodden and lacking in spirit. We go away inspired, with our productivity back to the maximum."

"Couldn't it all be done remotely? A presentation?"

"You haven't studied much psychology, have you. Physical contact. It's a different dynamic."

"I'll take your word for it."

It was possible to find a seat at the back. He went for the aisle. Just for a moment he had thoughts of slipping out, making his way back to the office. Some excuse of a pressing deadline. Except that every deadline had been cleared out just so they could hold the event. Or some pressing family emergency, except that he didn't really have any family that could be reached just by a trip across the city. He resigned himself to the event.

Xiuming was right, it did have that aspect. He was supposed to be inspired, but instead he found himself fidgeting. Maybe I'll get used to this, he thought. Then he listened to another five minutes and thought: maybe not.

There were presentations by the next level of management. One after another, all emphasising the bright path. The great future. Then he was surprised to see that it opened up for questions. At first there were questions that looked like they had been planted by the management, about targets and directions. As it went on though there were some more open style.

"Our campaigns are heavily reliant on the new culture systems. Can we be sure that they will be ready in time? Don't we need a fall-back position?"

Soothingly, the management, together, illustrated the paths. Re-assured about the schedule.

He looked around. Was this his future? It was all so regimented. So groupthink. All of a sudden, he found himself signalling that he had a question. It was as if his body had taken over, and he was skiing down a slope, out of control.

"All our campaigns rely on modifying people's minds, their brains. Don't you think they deserve some transparency about what we are doing to them?"

There was an audible rush of drawn-in breath from the crowd. The CEO quickly jumped in.

"You are new, Michael, aren't you. Let me assure you that nothing we do here is in any way harmful or detrimental to our customers, our users. Since time immemorial there have been advances in communication, in culture, this is just the latest step in a long line of advances..."

So it went. Of course proceedings were not distracted for a moment. Nobody said anything. As they made their way back to the buses, he tried to find Xiuming, but the crowd was large.

Sitting in the flat, staring out at the lights. Shanghai his to command, as it seemed. It sure was a long way from Portugal. He thought about the intake of collective breath as he asked his question. He was enough of a student of corporate politics to know that he had crossed a line. Was it a rebellion against suddenly finding himself part of the family? Maybe. He knew that beyond that line was an unknown. Was it that the unknown was more appealing than behaving himself?

In the morning he was late. As if delaying the inevitable. Walking slowly towards the main entrance. Half expecting to not get through the main doors. Instead it was all handled very quietly. A young woman approached him, and ushered him into a side meeting room.

"Good morning, Michael. I'm sure this meeting will not come as a surprise to you." she said.

"I guess I was a bit direct in my question yesterday. It won't happen again." Perhaps he was here for a dressing down, a 'bad boy, don't do it again' talk.

"We have decided that you are not a good fit for our company. I am sure you will understand. You will find the severance pay is quite generous." she said.

He was wheeled around from the meeting room and out the front door before you could say 'free speech and company politics are incompatible concepts'. He found that his girlfriend, as far as the network knew, did not exist. His flat was paid up for a month.

Meifen

On the second day, Meifen was running out of excuses. Huan might be asleep for one evening. Not two though. Desperately she tried to create an excuse. The ransom was too large. If they could do this to Huan then what else was possible? She scooped him up into her arms and headed for her sister's. It was nothing out of the ordinary - a sleeping child carried by a mother. As she struggled to carry him through the narrow streets of Peng Chau her neighbours just smiled, assuming that Huan was just tired.

Ai was startled. At this time of the morning?

"Is Huan sick? Shouldn't he be resting?"

"He is not sick. The game. It..."

She lost her determination. Had they not warned about contacting anyone?

Ai moved toward Huan on the couch. Placing her hand on his brow, feeling for a temperature. Sensing that it was normal and looking to Meifen for an explanation. She just collapsed in tears. Then, slowly, she explained.

"You want me to hide him?"

"Yes. The ransom is too much. I am afraid of what they might do."

"Have you told him?" Referring to her husband.

"No. I can't. I just can't"

So Huan remained hidden. The cover story of wanting to play with her sister's boy. It would hold while she searched for some way out of the nightmare.

Nguyen

Nguyen and Alan tried to lose themselves in the place. They took the list of attractions and worked their way through it. Elephant ride? Sure. Snorkelling off the Andaman reef? Absolutely. Their expeditions were populated by two distinct groups. Twenty somethings determined to see the world before they were swallowed by the system, and retirees eager to see the world before they were swallowed by the grave. None in the middle.

"Maybe Xi had the right idea." Ngyuen said.

"I'll fetch a drink." Alan said.

They were right on the beach at Khao Lak. Any number of small drink stands were scattered along the shore. At the up-market resorts the guests were huddled behind the barriers. In the democracy of the sand, they were free to sit anywhere, and to get their drinks from any of the stalls.

"Rather be working?" Alan asked, smiling.

"Just worried that all of the good jobs will be gone." Nguyen said. He had heard of Xi's success.

"And what is a good job?"

"An interesting one."

"Not a well paid one?"

"Of course. Interesting and well paid."

"I've decided to go for the most boring job I can find."

"Seriously?"

"The really well paid jobs are like this: you have to be highly intelligent to be capable of doing it, but the actual job itself is mind numbingly boring. Like systems architecture programming."

"What is the pay like?"

"5 bitcoins a day."

"Wow."

"Ten years of doing it, at that rate, and I can retire." he said.

"I'm the opposite. I'd walk out after two days."

The conversation trailed off. In the fading light, there were still people swimming. It was like taking a bath: the water was tepid.

All too soon, it came to an end. They bustled on to the express to Bangkok, and four hours later they were in Shanghai. As he had predicted, Alan found a job very quickly. Leaving only Nguyen still searching. He prowled the streets of Shanghai, from one job prospect to another. As he rejected offers, he began to imagine the humiliation of returning to Hue.

So it was, late one Shanghai evening he decided to go to a rooftop bar. It had a jungle theme, which at least was amusing. In the corner, he could take in the scene, without any danger of being approached. Most importantly he didn't want to run into either Xi or Alan. No, he didn't want to return home. He would do almost anything rather than that.

He seemed to appear, to come from nowhere.

"Nguyen. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Chen Pokong. Please pardon the manner of introduction, but I felt it necessary."

Nguyen hoped he wasn't about to try and sell him something. He continued.

"I am from the MyMind foundation. We are a not for profit agency. Were it not for the generosity of our donors, we would not exist."

Nguyen tried to anticipate.

"I'm afraid I am not in a position to donate anything. I am looking for a job."

Chen smiled. "That is exactly why I am here. I wish to offer you one."

Nguyen hesitated. Preparing to ask how he found him, why he wanted to offer a job. It was easier to hear him out.

"Our foundation is relatively new. You are aware, no doubt of the rise of the new services based on the implants. There are many wonderful possibilities. Education, entertainment.There is also a disturbing side. It's not just attracting people to certain ideas. You know what used to be called 'brainwashing', 'propaganda'. It's much worse that that. These people are modifying brain structure. So, for example, not only are they addicted to a particular food item : they have been modified to weaken their ability to overcome that addiction. We exist to expose these aspects, and to fight for the rights of users."

Nguyen sat back. Didn't he say he wanted something challenging?

"Is this a political job?" he asked.

"Of course there are political aspects to our foundation. Certainly. We wish to hire you for your technical skills though. We need someone who can both investigate and uncover the workings of the latest systems."

"How dangerous is it?" It was fairly obvious, but he wanted to hear it from him.

"In one sense, quite perilous. For those of us who operate in the field we are constant targets. For you, though, this is a back room job. There is no real need for you to be visible."

They were catching up for the first time after their return. As he had predicted, Alan was enjoying his job in the sense that he could see his bank balance growing at the right pace.

"You did what?" Xi said.

"I signed up with MyMind." Nguyen said.

It was awkward. Very awkward. To Xi, MyMind were at best an annoyance, at worst a serious threat to the business. On the face of it, if his management knew he was meeting with somebody from MyMind then they would be asking deep questions. Alan looked at Xi, then at Nguyen.

"Cool it, guys. Just calm down." Alan said. "There is no reason. No reason at all that this has to leak. We just have to take more precautions."

An awkward silence descended. He was right. If they were to remain friends, then there would be times when things might get difficult. Was their friendship worth the effort, or was it going to be something that passed?

Nguyen finally spoke:

"All they are campaigning for is that people be people. OK? Since when was it ok for companies to mess with people's brain structure? You really want to sign up for that?"

Xi stared back.

"Brain structure? Is that what they told you? You just swallowed it whole? Without even questioning it?"

In the end they had to agree to disagree, and go their separate ways. Nguyen felt like walking back to his flat. The ferocity of Xi's attack had left him shaken. Was he just a gullible foot soldier? Or was this something really worth doing?

In the morning, Nguyen was early at work. His first day. After the tour, they gave him a workstation, and he began some reading. Chen spoke to him briefly.

"We have the largest archive of studies of influence technology, as we call it. Way back to the first uses. In the entertainment industry way back in 2010. Very primitive systems. Used to create new fans for music brands."

He paused. "I want you to study the archive. Start with the latest, and then go back to the beginning. You need to understand it before we can commence."

Later that day, Xi caught up with Alan.

"I'm sorry." Xi said. "I lost it. You know, I can't associate with anyone from MyMind."

"Like I said, who has to know?"

"Things have a way of leaking. There is so much surveillance." He looked around, to emphasise his point.

"Maybe he will get sick of it. Just take some space. He always was a bit over-enthusiastic."

Nguyen studied the archive until well into the night. He realised that he was tired, and he had to rest. Too wound up to sleep, he wandered along the street, through the bar district. It was about 10pm and the activity was just getting started for the night. The music, the girls lingering in the street outside the venues. All new, all so foreign to him. He was mid 20's and all of his life he had spent studying. There was hardly ever any time for fun.

What would his family think of his newly found cause? Would he tell them? They would be nervous. Beyond nervous. Don't rock the boat, they would say. Make good use of your talents. These causes are for people with lots of money, lots of things to fall back on. You are just a poor kid - this is not for you.

He drifted into a quiet bar. It was quite different to the others. Only business people, no loud music. The owner gave him a nod from the bar. The ordering was easy. In a strange way, he felt like he had come home. A strange feeling.

"First day at work for me today." he said to his neighbour, who was nursing a drink.

They could almost have been twins.

"I'm in my second year."

"Nguyen. Pleased to meet you."

"Same."

They made small talk. Nothing too serious. It calmed him down enough to go home. He realised how exhausted he was, and he drifted into sleep almost as soon as he lay down.

He dreamed strange dreams. There were sensors everywhere, connected to a room far away. Xi sat watching the displays. He was walking down the street, going into the bar that he had visited. Every word was coming up on the display, and Xi was watching.

Zeno

It was a ritual. At the end of each day, sometimes so tired he could walk no further. The trail stretched from the far north of Australia, almost from the northern tip. Like the backbone of the continent, wrinkled upward. Some days he might climb 1200 metres. It was especially hard when he was at the start of a new stretch. To restock with food you had to leave the trail and walk to a town. The more he could carry, especially the more water, the less often he had to leave the trail.

As time went on, and he became stronger it was sort of natural to stretch further, to carry more. Longer days, more risks with water. He tried to slow it, after all, he told himself, it's not like he had a plane to catch at the end. The end. He didn't like to think about that.

He was almost choreographed. Every late afternoon, carefully watching how high the sun was in the sky. Just enough light remaining to cook, clean up. First place the bag, carefully against a tree. Pace out the space where the tent would go, scanning for rocks or sticks. Cooking, cleaning. By the time he stretched out flat there would be precious little energy left. He didn't want to be groping around for pebbles underneath the sleeping mat in the dark.

First the inner tent, it's pegs. Then the outer, making sure that it's thin skin did not touch the inner. That when it rained the water kept its distance. It was not just a question of comfort. Get the sleeping bag wet and it would lose it's warming abilities.

Everything was in waterproof bags. Gerhardt had joked about it, called him "the bag man". "You look like a homeless person". Which, in a sense he was, he thought. Then told himself that was ridiculous. How many homeless people have a set of degrees from China's most prestigious Universities? It was one thing to choose the trail, another to have no choices, he told himself.

Inside the tent there were locations for everything. Food on the left, clothes behind, cooking gear on the right. Torch in the pouch directly above. This also was not just a neatness fetish - sometimes he needed to find something in a hurry in the dark. The waterproof bags meant that if something spilled, or rain found its way inside, that it would be OK.

Most days there was a pause, a few minutes where there was still some light and he had finished cooking, and cleaning. He could just sit and watch the sun descend. Mostly there was not a spectacular view, as it was more important to have a flat surface to sleep on.

It would strike without warning. A feeling of panic. Of total helplessness. A small shaking that would grow until his whole upper body was racked. Until he could collect his senses, to focus, to slow his breathing.He found that to focus on something small was good. A leaf, a flower. Then connect with his breathing, to catch it. At first, sometimes, it would fail. His anxiety would not let go. With practice, he became better at it. When it passed, there might be some sun left, the remains of the day. Some moments of peace.

Somehow, the further he walked, the less it became. In a sense that was dangerous, that he became dependent on the path. That to stray from it would bring the panic again.

Zeno

"He's already here. Beat us in. I think he might have even beat Monica in." Zeno said to Gerhardt.

"Nobody beats Monica."

Julius, their star recruit. It was his first day, and they were expecting great things. They went downstairs to the development area. Gerhardt still was taken aback by the large displays for programming. He had left it behind, and he wondered how long it would take him to catch up. Or if he ever would.

A buzz filled the room, and eyes turned in their direction.

"Thank you. Thank you. This is silly." Julius said. He got a rock star reception. As one, the team rose to their feet and applauded. Zeno reflected that yes, they had made the right decision. Even so, he was surprised by the reception.

He went through the architecture diagrams, the progress so far. Then he zeroed in on the hippocampus.

"There are many artificial culture systems. When we began we had only a few weak competitors. As we have made progress, so have they. We still have a significant lead."

He paused. Nothing he was saying would come as a surprise. The market share diagrams were public knowledge. It was good not to be complacent.

After the talk, they toured around. Julius had already found his office, and had introduced himself to everyone. Zeno gestured, and Julius detached from the crowd. They found a quiet corner. The giant holographic displays hovering in the centre of the space. It was a bit like a sports stadium.

"You and Gerhardt go way back." Julius said.

"Monica too. It's great having your closest friends with you. Also very frightening."

"How so?"

"If it all fails, in a bad way, then you not only lose your money, your job, you also lose your best friends. It's a bit like deleting yourself."

"Sounds like you have some experience of this."

"Not me, just one or two places I worked along the way. Before the big break."

"They say you lived as a bum."

Zeno laughed.

"They would. The way I see it there is money and time. It's hard to have both. Lots of money, lots of earning means no time. I like to think of it as being very rich in time. How about you: why did you return to Australia? Big fish, small pond."

Julius paused.

"I got homesick. Simple."

He looked across at Zeno. The legendary status all slipped away, and there he was. Lost in Shanghai. Did someone crush some gum leaves and wave them under his nose? Was it one too many subway crushes where you fight to breathe as another wave of passengers forces its way into the carriage?

"I can understand that." Zeno said. "I would too."

Behind them the displays swirled. Neither of them spoke for quite a while. Maybe, in a way, they were versions of each other shifted in time. That Julius was a younger version of Zeno. Finally, Zeno spoke.

"So here we are hacking the brains of humanity." he said.

"It's a living." Julius smiled as he turned and returned to the development area.

Zeno slept, and dreamed. His dreams swirled. At first he was a child. A vast green field: he was walking, and he turned. He could see his father, his mother and his brothers. He smiled. They were walking together. It seemed to have no end: they walked slower, it seemed to roll over, like a wheel. Then they sat together, in a circle. He could see so clearly their faces.

All of a sudden, he was in a city. He didn't recognise any of it. It seemed like Shanghai, but it was not Shanghai. It was an amalgam of Cairns and Shanghai. In the distance behind the buildings he could see a surf beach. He walked, and the crowds drifted past him. Not paying him any attention. Slowly, he walked, swinging around in a circle.

As he passed a theatre, the usher in a uniform smiled to greet him, and indicated the door to the theatre. He could see crowds swirling in the entrance. The foyer was so large, he feared he would be lost in the swirling humanity. It tugged at him, pushing him forward. From one side, he could make out Monica. She was working her way toward him, then guiding him to one side. There was a gate, and a stairway leading upward. He looked at Monica, asking her which way? She pointed towards the stairs.

It seemed to take a long time, the climbing of the stairs. He lost sight of the foyer. He had the sense that it was there, but he could no longer see it. He felt lost. Still, though, he kept climbing. He came to a door, and a man smiled at him and opened it.

He walked out onto a platform. There was a lectern, and spotlights. Far below he could see the swirling humanity. They were looking expectant, waiting for him to speak. He had no idea: what do they want me to say? What do I say?

Then he woke up.

Jie

Jie left it for a few days. Tianjin. In a sense it was the absence of data that made it interesting. It was clear that something had happened there. Something very significant. He ran semantic spread searches, that looked for related language that did not explicitly link. Then he looked at the data that could not be obscured or disguised after the event.

There were stages to it. Innocent enough at the beginning. Embedded inside other material. How could a particular song, a news article be traced to a mental state? To a change in a population? To anyone else it would have appeared random, of no consequence. Jie's research though, was exactly in this area. He could take the content and map it to his models. This mapped to an aroused social state, this to anger, this to action. It was so much more powerful than brainwashing. It was true population engineering. Patience was an essential ingredient. This was not 'deliver message, stimulate response'. It was 'prepare the base, grow systems on that base, refine, respond'.

What to do? He had to trust someone. He went in search of Wei.

They both sat quietly while Jie went through what he had. The statistics told the story, even without the direct evidence.

"How did this happen?" Wei asked.

"I think it is created. Look at this."

He brought up an analysis of the messaging into Tianjin. Especially the origins. There was an inordinate amount of traffic from just outside Beijing. That was the thing. It was possible to mask so much. Encrypted messages, shadows inside shadows. When actual bits had to be moved though, there was no way of hiding their passage. The storm was way beyond the normal traffic. Like a digital tsunami.

"So. Beijing. You thinking what I'm thinking?" Wei said.

"Government agency. Spooks." Jie said.

"In which case, you have tripped over something here that you should not have tripped over. You, we, could forget that we ever saw it."

Wei was quiet.

"We should go for a walk." he said

They sought out a quiet place, far enough away from the buildings. Out of sight.

"You can't probe that agency." Wei said.

"So what to do? We can't just leave it."

"Yes, we can just leave it."

Wei walked along the pathway, underneath the tree cover. He looked up, as if checking for drones. Maybe this was the way it was going to be. Always watched.

"Somebody else out there must know about this. We place a marker. Give them a chance to contact us." Wei said.

It seemed like a long walk back to the lab. So quiet out here. For a moment, he regretted what he had set in motion. Like a national motto: don't meddle, don't ask, just do what you need to. In this placid place, all that was asked of him was that he quietly pursue research. Instead, he felt like he had poked a stick into a bee hive. There was a pause while the bees realised what was happening, and then...

"Powerful technology. Powerful people." Wei said, as if he had read his thoughts.

"Isn't that the way though. If we decide that they are all-powerful, then they are. If enough people challenge them, then they are not."

"Idealism."

The railway station was not a busy place, ever. Jie sat, looking across at the counter. Half expecting a group of police to jump out and arrest him. Or a drone to sink low and fire a missile at him. It was hard not to become paranoid. The train was late. Only a few minutes, but that was enough of a novelty to spur a flurry of activity. It was as if the staff rushing about might somehow move it along quicker. Or maybe there really were things that needed to be done when it was late.

Although it was only half full, there were still plenty of passengers to sort their way out into the car pickup area. His visitor exchanged using the one-time messaging. Now he had a face, and a location. They walked towards each other.

"Jie. Pleased to meet you."

"Nguyen, from MyMind."

Rather than go back to the lab, where he would have to explain the visitor's presence, they stayed in town. Nguyen was fascinated by the hybrid nature of the town. There were the old bits, where everything was done by humans, and the newer bits where for tourists some enterprising restaurants had installed the new technology. He was happy to walk up and down for a bit, taking it all in.

"I'm new to this. Although they did give me all the training." Nguyen said.

"Me too. I just signed on as a researcher here. Strange. New place. At first I just wanted to flee back to Shanghai. Takes a bit of getting used to."

"What do you do for night life around here?"

He laughed.

"Nothing here. Nothing at all. It's a short trip to Chengdu though. We went last week. It was ok. You just have to get beyond always comparing to Shanghai."

"Sure."

"Tell me about MyMind."

"We are a charity. Funded by people concerned about the issue. Like the name says, we want to alert people to the possibilities of the new technologies."

"The implants?"

"Yes. Not only that though. The network effects. What happens when these become large scale."

"You looked at my data?"

Nguyen paused. They had covered this in the training. How important it was to concentrate on real threats. People reported many things - sometimes they became concerned about things for publicity reasons. On occasion things they had uncovered had given them vast coverage. Only after examination they had turned out to be false alarms. It set them back. They had to be careful.

"Yes. I looked at your data. Or more to the point, the absences in your data. There is a lot of censorship going on."

"What do you make of the traffic patterns though? It indicates a staged campaign."

"It might."

"I thought you were interested in this sort of thing?"

"Yes. You have to understand our position though. We are a publicly funded charity. If we campaign on something that turns out to be innocent, it damages our cause. We have to be absolutely sure of what we have here."

Jie was upset. He sat silently for a moment. It was so difficult to investigate something like this. So dangerous. Didn't they understand that?

"OK. Let's find a quiet place, and we can go through it together."

They sat quietly at the cafe. There was no need for any equipment once they had their implants synchronised, and linked. The whole data history could be visualised and interrogated. Step by step they went through it.

"What about this?" Jie indicated.

"Multiple messages, targeted media."

"Exactly."

"You know what they are going to say? When you read something, your brain modifies itself. It is not the same. Every word, every image, every message. All of them. They change you. They change me. You are talking about brain structure modification. They will talk about everyday communication."

Jie sat silently. Was he wrong? Was this just an advertising campaign that happened to coincide with something? Maybe there was an accident. What exactly established the relationship between his data and that?

They were deeply involved in examining the data, but Nguyen had one eye on the street. In such a small place, only a scattering of people drifted up and down. All going about their business. Since it was a poor place, very few people were well dressed. The locals all blended in, with their faded clothes and 'no hurry' manner. If you were in the surveillance business, it was a nightmare. Yes, they could fly drones about, but that would stand out like a traffic light also. Nguyen was facing the street, Jie facing towards him.

"Move to that chair. I want you to look at something." Nguyen said.

"Huh. What?"

"Don't stare, or alert them. Watch for a guy in brown clothes coming back this way.

He's walked past us twice."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

They continued to talk, but watching for him. Sure enough, he came slowly past, not looking up.

"Yes. Definitely." Nguyen said.

"What do we do?"

"Well you go back to the lab and lie low. Yes, it's promising. Yes, on the face of it there is something there. Not nearly enough though for us to use. We need to fight only those battles we can win. As a small, fragile foundation we need powerful case studies to build our profile. Misses are not an option for us."

"And you?"

"I'll be fine. Our friend will follow me back."

Sure enough, his escort boarded the train at the last minute. Far enough away to hopefully blend in, but still within sight. He waved goodbye to Jie. Had he been too harsh? He was new at this, but his supervisor messaged him as he sat down. All of the material was back at MyMind. They approved of his decision. Yes, there was a lot of data. No, it was not conclusive.

He stared out the window. It had been a long day. Now he was heading back to Shanghai. Was it what he had expected? Too much processing and vetting, and not enough leading of the charge against the evil empire? He considered that it was, of course, like any job. It had its glamorous bits and its mundane bits. When you were the new recruit, you signed up for the mundane jobs. You did it smiling.

An

An was early - he had skipped out the door. Empire to run. She had been careful not to push the questions. Chun greeted her at the assembly, which was a bit of a shock. The assembly did not open until 10, so she usually drifted in at 9.

"You're early." An smiled.

"You too. Budding love snuffed out before it even got started?"

"Usual thing. Maybe it's a male competition to see how early you can sprint out the door."

"Maybe he pictured a life in the provinces. Two kids, one more on the way."

They both collapsed in laughter at this image.

"What's happening here?"

"Same old stuff. You'll like this one though. A proposal to regulate implants."

"Really?"

"Yes. New guy Li Hai. He gave a speech yesterday. He's quite good looking." She smiled. An did not take the bait.
All of the speeches were on the assembly system. A transcript was generated in real time.

"Thanks. I'll study it. Anything interesting today?"

"Riots."

"Which one?"

There were sporadic outbreaks, disturbances several times a week. Sometimes it was the city permit system. You needed a permit to work in any of the cities. When they hit the limit, usually around September, those that missed out had to wait until January. These were mostly symbolic. More serious were the food riots. Starving people. Usually ended in mass detentions, some casualties.

An studied the implant speech. This was highly unusual. She looked for any other speeches on the topic. Only one, and that was more than five years prior, when they had first become popular. It had been a fad, popular amongst University students. Then they released the version for three year olds. All of a sudden your child could not compete at school without them.

It was an interesting speech. First extolling the benefits. They were very popular. An found herself studying one particular passage.

'Their use in advertising and marketing is largely uncontrolled. The possibilities for personal problems from addiction is the subject of a number of studies. My main concern is recent incidents of social engineering. I refer to the incidents in Tianjin last year.'

"Tianjin" she said out loud.

Chun had it up on the displays.

"Not much there. I'd say the censors have been hard at work here."

"What started it?"

"Not clear. Like I said, they have been active."

An couldn't remember hearing somebody criticise social engineering before.

"I'm going to talk to him."

Chun smiled.

"Not for that reason."

"Can't hurt. Always a good idea to make yourself known to new members of the assembly. You never know how and when the contact might be useful."

She grinned. And shuffled off.

An had no trouble. Like her, he was in early. It was like there was a pecking order - the later you arrived the more important you were. She introduced herself. He was surprised, and pleased. He did not get much interest from the media.

"I'm interested in your speech." An said.

"Social engineering. You used that expression. Can you elaborate?"

"Sure. Social cohesion. Rather than deal with the problems, you rewire their brains."

An was startled.

"You have evidence of that?"

"How exactly would I gather that evidence? Put the population in a scanner and report structures daily?"

"You mentioned Tianjin."

"How much do you know?"

"That there was some sort of disturbance."

"Yes. A disturbance."

"Somehow it's calmed down?"

"You downplay the rebellious part, up play the conforming part. That's pretty much it."

"How effective is it?"

"Why don't you go and see for yourself?"

"If everyone is programmed, who will talk to me?"

"I have contacts."

She paused. She was stuck. He smiled.

"Why should I trust you?" he said.

"I..." An stumbled. Why indeed?

"Let's just say I trust my instincts."

An slowly made her way back to the office. Chun sat back.

"Looks like he made quite an impression."

"He was very forthcoming. I have a list of contacts in Tianjin."

She went through it.

"Wow." Chun said. "We go?"

"Yes. We go."

Seated in the train, it was impossible not to scan the faces of their fellow passengers. Scan, and scan again. Take the dust detectors. So they did.

Out of the station their car was waiting. It took them to a busy corner in the centre of Tianjin. Quickly down the street, taking the first left turn. Walking quickly down a very narrow alley. Dodging the customers in the market. Weaving around carpets, vegetables, and through chairs in small outdoor street vendors. They didn't look back. Then out onto the street and into the second car.

"Anything?" An asked. Chun looked at the surveillance apps, then looked back behind them.

"No. It's clear."

The contact was young, and he had an array of gadgets.

"They will be targetting you." he said. "We have to modify your identity."

An was concerned.

"Will I lose anything? What about..." It was natural to be concerned. If they modified her identity then would she disappear off the network? Would people think that she was dead?

"It will be exactly as if you were asleep. Messages will be delayed, but will be delivered. Your presence on the network will still be there, your location will not change. As I say, it will be as if you are sleeping."

Reassured, she submitted to the changes. It was a modern anxiety. So much of identity was now in the technology, rather than in the biology. It was almost physically painful to be disconnected.

"Wait. Who am I?"

"A local Tianjin resident. Same age, very similar history. All of the presences are adjusted to correspond. No gateway will pick it up."

Which left so many questions. How extensive was their organisation? How could they do this sort of thing? She was grateful for their help. It wasn't a good idea to start cross-examining everyone. If they had wanted to surrender her to the authorities then they already had enough.

"We will take you to the first meeting." he said.

Rather than take cars, they walked, watching all the time for signs.

Chun looked across at An. The look said 'either this is a big story, or we are about to be locked up for 20 years'. Maybe that was so. It was a lot better than reporting on the new branch line south of the Sahara.

An could not recall meeting somebody who looked so frightened. She was mid 20's, plain features. A student.

"I'm An, this is Chun. Thank you so much for agreeing to talk to us."

"It's not a problem." she said. It obviously was, but she was going to do it anyway.

An motioned for her to begin.

"Tell us what happened."

"Well, it all started with the small riot. Only a few people at the market. Just a scuffle. Then it escalated. There were similar gatherings, all over town."

"Yes."

"People started feeling sleepy. Not all at once mind you, just slowly. They would have to go home and sleep. Strange dreams. Really strange dreams."

"I think I know what you mean. Did the riots stop?"

"Yes. They did. People changed. It was like they had been hit with a drug or something."

"You think the networks operated like a drug?"

"Yes. We did some analysis. Looking at people's brain activity patterns. It was awful. Modifying. Really modifying."

"Did you keep the data?"

"Yes. We could not put it on the network though. Only discrete storage."

An looked up, as if to ask the question. Her companion nodded.

"You have been very helpful. Very brave." An said.

Her guide looked anxious. They said their farewells, they took the data in physical form. It was unusual to do that. Nothing was ever carried - they had to use old technology. A button.

Tentatively, they began to retrace their steps. He went ahead to the end of the lane, and looked out. Then motioned for them to follow. As they turned, he looked up, and started to move more quickly. Chun looked up and saw the drone hovering over the street. It seemed motionless, stationed there. He slowed then, matching their pace to those around them, blending in. An looked across at Chun. She was making an effort not to look upward.

Turning, they were almost halfway back. Above, there were now three drones, searching the line of pedestrians. Up and back, locking onto faces. An looked across, and he motioned for them to be ready. As they passed another laneway, he motioned discretely with his hand for them to turn right. It was away from the direction they needed to go.

Running down the lane now, they moved quickly to a doorway. He ushered them inside.

"Were they after us?" An said.

"Not sure. We can't take the risk though."

An sat quietly, and held the button. What did it all mean?

Michael

There was a ritual to the day. While the early morning professionals sipped their coffees on the main street, the three bicycled down the back lane. Going from bin to bin. Take the food still in packaging, and save it for later. Robot delivery of coffee. Delivered to GPS coordinates, it had no real preference if you were living in a shipping crate. It was Michael's turn to fetch the coffee, and he carried them carefully down the slope, making sure not to spill them.

"This is the life." he said.

Chung and Feng smiled. In a sense he was right. No early morning meetings with eager management scanning your face, searching for progress. Those meetings where you thought, endlessly, about walking. Just walking.

"How is our position?" Chung asked

Feng brought up the balances.

"Not so good. We have this contract for the pill, which could be very lucrative, but if we don't bring in something before that, we go negative."

They lived on nothing mostly. The bins were sporadic. A mismatch in the supply chain. Restaurants were watching the waste all the time. Still, in a way, it was refreshing. Despite all the technology, all the automation, there was stuff for them. A celebration of chaos. That not everything could be predicted, number crunched within an inch of its life.

"A run?" Cheng asked.

"I guess."

The auto-pay systems for small purchases were not as well protected as the backend. Once you got to the next level up, for purchases more than meals, coffee it was all done with bitcoin and it was too much work to hack. Plus it was hard to hack without disclosing your network location. Effort/reward curve was more in their favour. They had other low level earners also. Even with the implants, people still liked to carry around equipment. Especially your younger, professional types.

A run involved both scams. They would grab micro payments while they were in progress. A 'man in the middle' attack was straight forward. It didn't always work, but they would slowly ride the bikes along the avenue, attacking payments while they went. A couple of runs would keep them going for a day or two. Trying to rotate the locations, keeping as nondescript as possible. There were a lot of homeless, so it was easy to blend in.

Devices were good also. A quick attack on the firmware, and the youngsters would get quite annoyed. Around half just discarded them. Easy enough to get another, and the cost was so low that it wasn't worth persisting with a problem. Within an hour they would be back on sale across the city, wiped clean and ready to go.

Back at the crate, they totalled up the haul.

"A good morning's work." Cheng said.

"To the city and its lazy citizens, we are eternally grateful." Feng said.

Michael quietly fingered the pill.

"What's the story?" Chung said.

"An - she's a reporter - got it from a near field incident with a certain important executive."

They laughed.

"Oooh. Skanky. She a friend of yours?" Feng said

"No. She heard of us. It's a first. She might get more, and it pays well." Michael said.

"Which company?"

"Sentiment."

"What are we looking for?"

"She is interested in government use of the network and the implants for social engineering. Or more accurately, reworking of brain structure. There has been a decline in public disturbances. She thinks that they are pacifying people using some sort of neural engineering with the implants."

There was a lingering silence. Chung and Feng looked at each other. Finally Cheng spoke.

"You really like to live dangerously, don't you? Maybe it might have been an idea to ask us first?"

Michael looked up.

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking. You have a problem?"

"It's endangering our luxurious way of life. Our social position. Our extensive connections to the government hierarchy."

They all laughed.

Swirling through the data was mind boggling. After committing to analysing it, given the danger it represented, the actuality was seriously awful. The three of them stared at the space, trying to come at it from different points of view.

"It's a mess." Feng said.

"Try correlating it with time." Michael said.

This was one way of looking for hooks. Take the broader flow of information, and look for parallels. In this way gaps might be filled, some of them expanded. It helped a little.

"We need help."

"Mareko ?"

Although they knew how to run the analysis, in many cases Mareko had actually written the code. What he didn't know was not worth knowing.

"Last known?" Michael asked.

People said that he had worked for the biggest emotion companies. It meant a trip. He lived outside Shanghai, in one of the tiny villages. Years ago he had just turned up there one day. Sought out a room. They were not quite sure what to do. Nobody came there as a tourist. In fact they were not really sure what a tourist was. A room was easy enough. For some reason only known to Mareko, he had simply not returned from the trip. Over time, he got a more permanent room. The village had all he needed. Food, quiet. A feeble network connection. Those that he had worked for in return for him not divulging their secrets, left him alone.

They decided it was best for Michael to go. Given they would have to split the proceeds with Mareko, they needed to keep working, keep skimming otherwise they would not eat.

It was a three hour journey by slow train, and mini car. No high speed trains went anywhere near his village.

As Michael walked from the car stop, he wondered how to find him. He need not have worried. Here if a stranger arrived like him, then he was only looking for one person. They directed him, sometimes even without speaking. Just a hand pointing.

He looked older. With his European heritage, he looked like a fisherman you might meet on some Greek island.

"Michael. It's good to see you." he said.

"You look older."

"So do you. It's just that you have not noticed it."

Michael explained their problem. He had to connect to Mareko's projectors. He had never had the implants. It was a bit of a struggle, as a person without implants was very rare now, and Michael was out of practice.

"See. There." Mareko said.

At first he could not see anything. Then the pattern swirled around a contact point.

"What is it?"

"A fixed resonance. In the lower neural assemblies, you can attach things like this. You use a careful sequence of media. It excites an interest profile. Then you can build on it."

"What for?"

Mareko looked at Michael.

"You don't know? Why did you gather this?"

"I didn't. A journalist, she got it in a near field from a Sentiment executive."

Mareko sat back.

"You sure like to live dangerously."

"How so?"

"Internal security. It could be them. Once they lock on to you they won't let go."

"You know them?"

"I worked for them once. Not a nice place. You want some tea?"

"You remember the history of the cultural revolution?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Well this is the neural revolution. 2040 version. Mass brain structure alignment."

"How do we escape it?"

"How do you know that we don't?"

Mareko made the tea. It was a small room, a small house. He sipped, and continued.

"You need to gather more to understand exactly. I can give you a list. What happened here? As you say, programming. It has moved on since I worked on it."

"Why did you leave?"

"Why do you think? To spend my days jiggering with people's synapses, so they could all become marionettes singing to the party tune?"

"I guess not."

Michael sipped his tea, then continued.

He opened his mouth to say something like ' I know my own mind ' or ' because I critically absorb everything, reflect on it'. Or something like that. This was different though. It worked on the foundations, the structures that did the interpretation. Mareko was right. This was a government's dream. No wonder the civil disturbances had died down.

Mareko turned to the data again.

"I would need better tools to understand it properly."

"If I could get them?"

"I don't want to get involved. You will need to find somebody else. I'm sorry."

Michael opened his mouth to continue. Then realised that in a real sense he had worn out his welcome. He had stirred up memories that should have been left buried.

Nguyen

Xi hit the wall in the second week at CultureMeld. It was like a balloon being punctured. He found that Monday swung around way too soon. Alarm beeping at him at 5.10am. With a start, he was vertical in the bed. The apartment could not have been more spartan, or smaller. If another person visited, they would have to take turns eating at the table. Still, the location was it. Looking out the window, and across a few hundred metres he could see his office. Not where he sat, but the outer edges of the office where he sat. It took time to get a window seat.

Where had Sunday gone? He asked himself. Rising late, and sitting in the park. The sunshine had drifted across his eyelids, and he had slept. Then slept some more. His friends, of course, were right. He should have spent time lying on the beach.

He walked past the display at the office door. Normally it had reminders, news items. Nothing of any consequence. Today, however there was a complex threat analysis. It was a set of events and consequences, and possible future paths. Some of the paths he did not understand. There were linkages. He stood and tried to make sense of it.

As he stood there, the strategy director arrived. They had met on the first day. Normally they would not encounter each other. He was at least two levels above Xi. In the early morning though, with nobody else around, it would have been rude for him to stand there and not make conversation.

"Threat analysis." he said.

"I can't quite understand it. The link here: NGO's?"

"There are groups dedicated to opposing some of our key technologies. See here, this organisation: MyMind. They want to push back on our campaigns."

He waved his hand to the right, and surveillance footage came up. It was An and Chun on the street. On the face of it, nothing of great significance. It had been flagged by the system though.

"The competitors though. Isn't it good that the press target them?"

"Good and bad. If they just tie down our competitors then that is good. If they block all of us in some way, then we all go down together."

Other people filtered into the office. They naturally gravitated toward the display. Xi received an alert for a meeting in about an hour. He had time to get another coffee.

The strategy director addressed the meeting.

"For some time we have been monitoring a number of serious threats to our business model. Now we have detected a new level of activity." He brought up the graphics that were displaying outside.

"I know that we decided to simply monitor this activity. We made a decision that it was incidental. Now I think we need to revisit that."

The consequence branches took it all the way through.

"I think we need a small group to tackle this."

There was a brief discussion, followed by approval for the formation of the group. They retreated to another conference room. The strategy director outlined his approach.

"We already have monitoring. So we know their ambitions. Now we want to slow them down, divert them. Misinformation, obfuscation. I'm open to suggestions."

The strategy director leaned back.

"All good ideas. OK. We gather again in three days."

Xi returned to his desk and began searching. He tried not to think about Nguyen, and his relationship with MyMind. If it came to the surface... He decided he could brush it off as 'we went to University together..'.

That evening, he met with Alan alone. He had only a 30 minute break. True to form, he was working long hours on several contracts. The retirement plan.

"So they don't know?" Alan said

"No. I've got to make sure they don't find out."

All around them, people were drinking and talking. Nothing out of the ordinary. Xi could not help but think of the wave of information flowing through them all. He had a picture of the neural systems that he had seen at work. Was that all they were, just a system to be influenced back and forth? Just sheep being herded through gates ?

Alan scanned through the data from Tianjin. Yes, there were patterns to the flows. Yes, they did seem to be building on top of each other. On their own though, they did not prove anything. He imagined the headlines: "strange repetitions in network messaging".

Still. There was something there.

"How do I get into this?" Nguyen asked nobody in particular.

It was too intense. So he took a walk, put on some music, scanned all of his feeds. The neighbourhood was all new to him, so it was a surprise to find the river. Falling in with the general pedestrian flow, he turned the music up a little bit louder. There was a seat vacant near the edge of the river. Completely vacant.

He stretched out on the bench. It was long enough to hold him, even quite comfortable. Without really intending it, in a moment he was asleep. His dreams were both strange and highly abstract. He was walking along a high plateau, all he could see in every direction was mountains. One after the other, into the far distance. There were some other walkers, but they were too far away for him to see who they were. Every time he walked a little faster, they walked faster still, so he could never catch them.

The plateau seemed to have no boundary. He walked faster and faster, but still they receded from him. He felt like he had been running for ever. He was becoming tired.

Suddenly, he realised that the ground stopped ahead of him. The earth opened up in front of him, he tried to fall backwards, to get some traction on the ground. His legs were over the edge of the cliff, now with his arms flailing and grabbing at the ground. His hands were hurting, it was as if he could feel the skin breaking.

Then he woke up. Violently.

Zeno

That feeling as the roller coaster quietly climbs the first rise. In anticipation it slows and pauses at the top. Monica smiled as she walked with Zeno and Gerhardt around the development centre.

It certainly was on a scale. The building had been a hangar when they had bought it. Which gave Monica the freedom to construct any way she wanted. What she wanted was something that would attract the world's best neural programmers. That would make them step away from their seat in Atlanta, London or Tokyo and jump on a plane for Cairns. The competition for talent was fierce, and just an apartment that was steps away from the surf was not enough. They needed something spectacular.

Some might dismiss it as gimmicks. The huge holographic displays. Linked to the quantum networks. Artificial brains, real brains. This was where it all merged together.

"See that guy down there." Monica pointed to a person with shorts on, long hair and glasses. He could have been any of the beach devotees at the break.

"There?" Zeno asked

"Yes. MIT's top scorer in the last hippocampus modelling competition." She smiled.

"How long has he been here?" Gerhardt asked

"Three weeks. He took one look at us and headed straight for the airport."

"Wow." Zeno said.

It was impressive. It was beyond impressive.

"All this for persuasion." Gerhardt said, being surprisingly philosophical.

Indeed it was all for that, Zeno thought. All this, the room, the computational power that was available. Buried in glaciers in the coldest parts of the planet. Huge computational power. With one purpose, to persuade the hapless consumer that they just had to have the latest something.

Zeno smiled and nodded. Yes, it was going to revolutionise neural modelling. It was an assembly of scientific talent. As Gerhardt and Monica went down to the floor and began mixing with the staff, it was a bit like a celebrity swarm at the airport. They were some of the world's smartest people, but they huddled around Monica like kids at a rock concert.

It was great. He really was part of something, more than that. The three of them had created something incredible. Was it the weight of expectation? The responsibility?

The hangar was outside the city, even the new city. Zeno made his way out of the complex, past the guardhouse - his car was waiting for him. He got it to go right first, towards the city, then a hard left. Then he stopped at the end of a dead end street. He got out of the car, and walked straight into the bush. Just like in the old days. Setting his systems to isolation, as if he was having a nap.

Was it possible to get lost? Not really. All he had to do was re-connect. He didn't want to leave a trail though. Following the dusty track, it became a sand dune. His feet sunk into the sand, and climbing the dune became an intense physical effort. That in itself helped. It took him back.

At the top he was momentarily not sure. He slowly rotated, until he got his bearings. The tree, the hill. He was in the right place. Then he had it. Walking forward exactly ten steps. Pulling the sand back, and taking out the communicator.

What would Monica say? Here he was violating all of his own protocols. Nothing was to go in or out without going through the company gateways. Not just for information security - there were all sorts of reasons that it had to be that way. She didn't need to explain.

Zeno could imagine the leak 'CEO in therapy' or worse. No, he didn't want anyone to know. It wasn't just pride. Sitting cross-legged underneath the tree the connection was instant. Neural system to artificial neural system.

Zeno

It was routine. Every Monday morning they monitored the take-up. All of the users of their software reported their activity, bugs and a multitude of other statistics. In the beginning there had been some resistance. It was the early school adoptions that had driven it. The idea of your child falling behind their peers without the implants was just too much. As they got older, the implants and their software made for a whole platform of new products.

Zeno sat quietly.

"What do you make of it?" he asked Julius.

For all of the sophistication of the monitoring, it did not actually give them application profiles. Their neural software acted as a platform for other products. Need to create a mood for your latest movie? You would spend the weeks leading up to the launch doing the pre-conditioning. Then when it arrived, your targeted potential viewers would be ready for it. No, it wasn't mind control. Nothing so simplistic. More like mind conditioning.

"What's that in Tianjin?" Zeno asked

"Massive uptake. Look at it." Julius brought it up, in all its holographic glory. It was beyond their wildest dreams. Much like a whole city suddenly on their payroll.

"Great." Julius said. "Yes?"

"We eat, yes." Zeno said.

Maybe word had spread. Monica walked in. They explained.

"I'll get someone to analyse it." Julius said. Although as he returned to his desk, he wondered exactly how he was going to find someone. Firstly, somebody with the expertise. Secondly, to be brave enough to take it on. A straight ask wasn't going to do it. He scrolled through his list of contacts. Once. Then again. Surely someone there could take it, might take it. But no.

Then he had the breakthrough. After all, it was just data. The labels on it were replaceable, interchangeable. Once you got into the data, it was clear what it was. He packaged the data together, and worked on the fake description. Assembling the package he uploaded it to a competition site, together with a substantial cash prize and the opportunity to work with the company. He went down to see Gerhardt.

"A fake company. You want a fake company. What for?"

Julius went through the rationale. Gerhardt raised his eyebrows.

"Probability of connection to the right person?" he asked.

"You don't understand how the nerd mind works." Julius said. "We do this stuff for fun. Yes, the right person might not devote much time to it. That doesn't matter. They will get curious and contact us."

"Curious. About data."

"Yes."

Gerhardt was still very sceptical. Julius was, after all, the star recruit. They had to give him some room to run. By the next morning, Juggler Technologies was established, and visible.

Jie

Wie looked so expectant.

"What did they make of it?"

Although he thought about Chengdu sometimes, he could not raise the enthusiasm for another visit. Instead he asked Wei to accompany him on a day walk outside the lab. It was one of the benefits of being in such a remote location. There was an informal walking track that went quite steeply up the mountains to the north of the large lab building. He imagined that you could get a good view. Wei was a bit sceptical at first, but eventually he relented.

Straight after breakfast, they searched for the marker at the lab perimeter. It was only a small blue mark on a wooden post just beyond the perimeter. Every hundred meters or so there was another wooden post with the blue mark.

"Can't do this in Shanghai." Jie said.

"No. Plenty of other things to do though." Wei said.

"Don't be grumpy. I'm trying to make the best of it."

"Chengdu calling?"

"No. Not really. Something about it."

"Provincial. Eager. Nothing of the subtlety of Shanghai?"

"I've never thought of Shanghai as subtle. No, I don't know what it is. Just a pale imitation of the real thing."

"The real thing? So we will never be happy here, as it is a pale imitation of the real city?"

They both went silent. All of the things that might appeal to an older person: space, light, quiet. Not so appealing for the younger person. On the lower slopes of the mountain, they were going through small villages. The inhabitants looked up, and smiled. Some of then were startled by their presence.

"Good morning, misters." an old man said. "You are from the new establishment?"

"Yes."

"It is wonderful. A big boost to our village. My daughter has a job there in your canteen. Wonderful."

They had not thought of that aspect of their presence. Looking up, the track was much less clear. Still, they could see the next marker so they began the climb. At first it was gentle, with trees, then it was steep. Then it got even steeper. Eventually they were standing high on a ridge, and they turned around. It was a stunning view, with the paddy fields stretching out across the huge valley. Incongruously, the lab as a completely new building stood out dramatically in the foreground.

"Great view." Jie said.

"Wow. The lab looks so weird there. Like somebody dropped it in from space."

"Yes."

Michael

Michael sent a report to An on the way back. It was progress. It meant that they might get paid. It had spooked him, all the talk of internal security. Still, the analysis did not actually show that. Mareko was trying to anticipate the worst. The analysis showed general conditioning in the area of political-type messaging. It could be a straight political campaign, or it could be a sales campaign that looked like a political campaign. At this level, they all looked the same. It was rat brain stuff. Soften up a part of the brain, get it ready for a workout. Then hit it with a message. It was all about amplification.

In the 2020's it had begun in both commercial and political campaigns. Crunch the numbers, work the curves. It gave some products, and some political campaigns great leverage. During the 2030's the key advance was to stop looking at individual messages. Instead to look at it as direct brain modification, not just as mind influence. To those who mastered it, there were quantum leaps.

A meeting was difficult. He was worried though, without a little bit of persuasion, that An would discount the payment. Technically he had not reached what the contract wanted. He felt the need to talk it through with her, and to try and get more work. When the alternative was garbage runs, and low level hacks, it was worth the extra effort. One-time messages through the quantum network - they were higher cost but harder to track. He could not recall the last time he had resorted to it. In a sense it was designed to impress An. If you didn't hustle, you didn't survive.

Now they needed a large crowd, and a meeting place. Hopefully at least some distance from surveillance cameras. Go for the centre, he told himself. The People's Park. It was opposite the subway station, which made for a quick transition. An messaged back agreement for the time and the location. Michael set off.

An was cautious also. She headed for the park corner, then turned back. Taking long loops, and alternate paths. There was no need for her pursuers to follow her in person. They could watch from the park's cameras or from a drone. There were still uses for human surveillance though. Humans were more flexible, and more creative.

He turned suddenly and almost walked straight into her. She jumped back, and smiled.

"An."

"Michael."

She was taller than he thought. Short hair. That smile.

"You are..." he struggled for words. He could hardly say '.. you are much better looking than your photo..' could he? "taller than I thought." he said.

"You too."

Michael went silent. Then all of a sudden, he remembered why he was there. He had the presentation ready.

"We broke the data down, into stages. Correlated it with structures..."

It was something, but it was strictly speaking not what she had asked for.

"If we bring you more data, will it give us a better understanding? I'm wondering what all this is for? Is it for pacification?"

Michael hesitated.

"It's hard to say. The structures..."

He went through the analysis. Yes, it was consistent with that. There were more stages to it though. In a sense this is the pre-cursor to something.

"I think we should keep going then. I'll gather some more."

"If we can help with that it any way."

Was he up-selling? Trying for a larger role? Yes, in a way. He was also probably better equipped to do the network surveillance. The near field stuff only got them so far. It was unlikely that they would get further into the company networks this way. Something else was needed.

"You certainly came to the right place for a proposal." She said.

"Huh?" he said.

She indicated the noticeboard, the couples all around them. Then she laughed. Loudly. Michael smiled uncontrollably. He was still completely in the dark.

"This is the marriage market." she said. "It's where people go to find a marriage partner."

He blushed deep red. This only made her laugh even more.

Nguyen

Xi had watched Liuping work on the successful campaign for last season's virtual holidays. They were the modern equivalent of the ocean cruise. You attended a virtual centre for days at a time, with all of the sensory experience that you desired. A safari tour through Africa, climbing Mt Everest.

Xi stood beside her desk, waiting for her to finish what she was doing. As a new member of the team, Xi could only assign himself to a certain extent. He needed a sponsor, and he was hoping that Liuping would take him on.

"That campaign for the holidays. It was very successful. You working on a follow up?"

"Yes, of course. You want to join?"

"If that's possible."

"Of course. I'll get the approvals."

For some reason he thought of Tianjin again. It was late in the day. He replayed the campaign. The numbers all so far outside the normal bounds. They had data for campaigns going back years - it was distinctively different. In the end though, he tired of it and left the office.

Alan and Nguyen had arranged for the three of them to meet after work. He still had the discussion of MyMind fresh from the meeting. He couldn't tell Nguyen of the monitoring, and he sensed that he was putting them all in some sort of spotlight. Still, they were his friends. No real friends at work, and without them he would be alone in the city.

The three of them again. It seemed like only yesterday that they were inseparable. Now, so much suspicion.

"How is saving the world?" Xi asked Nguyen

"Not as exciting as I thought. More like working as a clerk in the post office."

"How so?"

"It's all about assessing data and making sure that it fits the credibility profile. They only want pristine, pure, ideal cases to put in front of the public."

"Cautious?"

"They are paranoid about being tricked into running with false data. They have been caught before, and are determined not to be discredited. It's all about public credibility. How about you? First bonus will give you a free trip around the world?"

Alan could sense the mood turning ugly. He intervened.

"Easy, guys. Easy. At least you are not sitting staring at systems code for 18 hours a day."

Yes, at least not that. Alan smiled. The retirement plan.

Surprising even himself, Xi decided to tell all.

"I'm looking at a campaign. A recent campaign in Tianjin. It seems to coincide with a large civil disturbance. After the campaign, the disturbances subsided."

It went quiet. They were all thinking the same thing. Is this something that they wanted to have anything to do with?

Xi continued.

"Yes. I know. I know. I shouldn't be talking about it. But it worries me."

Nguyen seized the opportunity.

"Let's look at the data again."

They exchanged glances. It was a crossing point. A one way journey.

Zeno

Julius loved the coast. It had dragged him back from Shanghai. The outrageous luxury of it. In the half-dark paddling out beyond the break, arms straining to paddle the surfboard out. Turning over and pushing through the frothing waves. Once, twice, diving deep under and battling to avoid the turbulent water.

Then absolute quiet. Turning, the lights still visible on the shore. That skyline. How much of it had been there when he was a kid swimming with a small board? Now Cairns was the most populated city in Australia. The lure of the north. It took some adjustment. When he was a kid Cairns had hardly been a city. Now it hustled, and bustled.

Even out here, he could still get messages. Nobody could tolerate mis-placing their device, or being out on the surf when an important aspect of connection happened. He had set it to overview mode with heavy filtering.

He could sense when a large wave was coming. It was as if the sea tilted. Of course it didn't, but it felt like that. Then that moment of decision - should he paddle for this one, or let it go. There was a critical moment of decision. Then all of a sudden up, on it and riding. Those brief moments of exhilaration.

Jie

It was a long climb back down from the mountain, with the lab in front of them like a constant reminder. Wei finally asked him about his meeting with MyMind.

"Did they take it seriously ?

"Sure. They went all bureaucratic on me though."

"How so?"

"Need to be sure about what it is. Can't go off publicising stuff, and getting embarrassed when it's not authentic."

"Like they are the pinnacles of respectability? I thought they were some far out protest group.

"I think they have ambitions."

Wei paused.

"Maybe it's for the best. I can't see the powers that be here being terribly thrilled about it."

"No."

His friend had his best interests at heart. Their position here was conditional. It seemed the easiest of things: devote yourself to research, and leave aside these things. The politics, the social concerns. It nagged him though. What to do with it? There were places to send data. Anonymous pools, quantum gateways. Once swallowed there was no way to backtrace. Late at night, when everyone was asleep he took a walk to the local village. He thought about it: new journalists in the politics pool. In an instant bitcoin changed hands in the village, data went from his implants to the gateway.

Jie sought out some light relief. He used to be good at data competitions. What could be more harmless than that ?

An

Chun was laughing. Laughing so hard she looked like she would burst.

"Michael. The analyst. When you saw the photo you squinted. I assumed that you found him ugly.

"What gave you that impression?"

She began laughing again. "You are incorrigible."

"The Sentiment guy was nothing. That was, like, work."

"True love. This Michael. Sure he's a high tech consultant type person. Does he not live on the street?

"He's fallen on hard times.

"Now, you, you are going to rescue him?"

She just glared back at her.

"Did you actually make some progress with the data, or did you just sit gazing longingly into his eyes the whole time?"

"Yes. Of course. It looks like some sort of neural programming."

"That's it? I could have told you that.

"He's getting some more work done on it."

"What? Now the consultant outsources? He must have really made an impression."

"Ease up. Ease up."

Chun was delighted to see her friend actually take an interest in someone. For too long she had been just moping about. The thing with the Sentiment guy worried her. That was a road you didn't want to travel too far down. You find yourself at a strange destination without any idea how you got there. She was scrolling through the results of the analysis.

"Did you look at the space-time map for incidence of the patterns?

"I thought it corresponded to the civil unrest? You saw that report from that researcher, Jie?

"Some of it, but look at this."

"Are you sure? I'm no data expert, but it looks really possible to construct anything on the basis of the data. You make it fit to a civil disturbance. Look at the scale of these."

"You are right. Much smaller. More like a one person event."

Zeno

Julius dried himself on the beach. It was enough to bring him in from surfing. All the message said was that someone had downloaded the data. He was disappointed. Looking over the profile of the lab, it was precisely the sort of target he was after. Most likely though, the downloader would just browse through the data and move on.

Another prompt bleeped. Work beckoned. He looked outside, and the car was sitting there idling. He could attend to the prompts on the way to the office.

The trio were waiting for him as he arrived: Zeno, Gerhardt and Monica. It was a regular meeting. Monica lead the way.

"Here are the updates."

Nice growth curves filled the displays.

"Here are the financials."

Again, all good.

Zeno leaned forward.

"Anything we should be aware of?"

Monica brought up a new slide.

"This is what I've called unexpected activity. People who are regular customers, but for some reason or other their activity levels drop."

"People go on holiday?" Zeno asked.

Monica frowned. "That is removed from the main thread automatically, as you should know."

"Are these unusual?" Zeno turned to Gerhardt. This was, after all, his area.

"Yes. Especially at this stage of product evolution. We would expect to see some permanent disconnections, of course."

They turned to the boy wonder.

"Update on the unusual content." Zeno said

"Not yet." he said

"Soon?"

"Soon."

Nguyen

Xi left Alan and Nguyen behind. Yes, the data was suspicious. Yes, it seemed that the company was behind it. Still, putting it out somewhere on the network was pretty serious. He hadn't read the twenty pages of his employment agreement. Who does? He was pretty sure that somewhere in there was a clause in the saying he would be turned into cat food for disclosing company secrets. If ever there was a company secret, this was it.

He sat at his desk, looking around the room at his fellow employees. Who could he trust? Anyone, nobody? When they had delivered his computer, the guy that set it up - he had a manner. He had a great sense of humour. That joke he had made about the new vice-president. What was it: that they would need the whole server room working flat out for him to find his arse? What was his name? Yes, finally it came to him: Alex. He was Australian, that was it. The way he dressed, even the way he walked. Those huge strides, as if you needed large steps to traverse a large continent.

Still. He hesitated. The protocol would say 'report it to your immediate superior'. Except that his boss hated him. Well, maybe not outright hate. On that first day, he picked up the look. It said 'you think you are smart, that pretty soon you are going to have my job. Well let me tell you there is smart, and then there is actual smart.'

Xi decided on descending into the dungeon. It was the last floor above what used to be the car park. Nobody parked cars now, so it was used for storage. Support always had the worst placed. No sweeping views of the Shanghai skyline. For that matter, none of the meal robots either. Just cluttered space, and workstations. Some swirling holographic displays. Games in motion. He never saw that on his floor. He wondered what would happen if somebody started playing a game. He smiled. It would be ugly, and it would be fast.

No navigation here either. On his floor he would have a path up in front, and he would just have to follow it. Nobody came down here for meetings. Nobody came down here at all, unless they worked here.

He approached the first desk. A head tilted, and he seized the moment.

"Alex"

"Way over there."

A bemused grin. As if to say 'owes you money, does he?'

Here the fashion was computer games. The fantastic characters dangled in space, in all their three, or four dimensional glory. Some were animated- taking a swing with a sword, or firing a weapon.

The sound got louder the closer he got. A cacophony of fighting sounds. Then he was standing right next to Alex. Except that he was lost in the game. His body swirling and jumping.

In the end he coughed. Quietly. Alex came to a halt.

"Shit, man. You startled me."

"Sorry."

He shut down the game. Xi struggled with how to express his request. Fortunately he was direct.

"Something wrong? It would have come up. You don't have to come all the way down here." He paused. "It's ok though. All good."

He leaned back on the chair. Almost falling backwards.

"How you finding it? Crazy work eh? Enslave the poor unsuspecting. A quick neural tickle and they are crawling to the store craving the product. Must have. Must have."

"Pay is good."

"That is precisely what I tell myself early every Monday morning."

Another awkward pause. Clearly he was a man on a mission, but what exactly?

"I've come across something unusual, and I was hoping you would have a look at it."

Alex's brow furrowed slightly.

"Easy man. You just ..."

He was about to direct Xi to the right channels. It was almost automatic. He stopped as the data came up on his view.

"Interesting." Alex said. "Interesting."

For several minutes he manipulated the data, going from one system to another. Xi wandered off, sat at an empty seat a little way from Alex. Wondering at once whether he could be trusted, and if he had the capability. Sometimes you just have to take the leap, he told himself.

"You there?" Alex said.

"Yes."

He moved quickly back. Leaned into the cubicle.

"It's hard to say exactly what it is."

Xi almost physically slumped. Of course. Of course.

"There is one thing though I can say with 100% confidence."

Xi braced himself for the worst. He imagined his boss trying not to smile openly as he was shown to the main exit. Alex continued.

"It did not originate in this company."

"Are you sure?" After all, it was a big company.

"Yes."

An

Chun's baiting wore her down. She stared at the call screen for quite a while, considering. Then said to herself "life short" and called Michael.

"How is the analysis going?"

"I haven't found anyone else yet. I'm still searching."

There was a distinct pause. Remember, life short.

"I think we should just go to Tianjin and chase it."

No hesitation at all.

"Sure."

Zeno

Gerhardt stayed behind with Julius, after the meeting.

"It really is a most unusual pattern." He said.

"Maybe we could interview a sample? Cover it as a general feedback exercise?

"Sure: make sure you talk to the interviewers though. The data you need is not always the data you get."

Apart from thinking that Gerhardt had started to talk in Zen koans, he took this as one of those valuable sayings of veterans. Just because they were often said, did not mean they were wrong.

Julius found the survey department, with Ahmed being the only person around. It was an area of four or so people at the far end of the floor.

"We want to understand why people have low activity levels."

Ahmed looked up.

"Any number of reasons. The gas bill came. Mum's teeth needed fixing. You really want to chase this? It's in the noise. It won't have any impact on the product trajectory."

Meaning, of course, that this won't impact on your end of year bonus. It's fine if you want to waste your own time.

"It's a new product. Let's just say we want to nip it in the bud, before it becomes a trend."

Ahmed opened his mouth. To continue the argument. He had done the calculations - this was a trivial task. Not worth arguing over.

"Sure. "

An

"Beautiful place." Michael announced as they slowed to alight at Tianjin.

"Yes. Hard to connect with the riots." An said.

Mass round ups. People falling down in the street - an empty city. Then just as suddenly, it returned to normal.

"Some sort of mass hypnosis?" Michael suggested

"Maybe the brains trust can work it out." An said hopefully. "Meanwhile we have a string of officials to meet."

They decided to walk to the building. Five interviews later they fell back onto the street.

"Exhausting." Michael shook his head

"You should try the African railway contractors. Excitement plus.

"Lying. Obfuscating.

"Life of a government official. As natural as breathing to them.

"Too perfect - the accounts.

"You noticed. It will make a great story though. Chinese government official less than transparent."

They laughed, and continued on to the hospital. For more of the same. Finally falling into a small cafe outside the emergency department. It was looking totally hopeless. Even An was looking worn down by the process. She turned to face Michael.

"Being homeless. What's it like?" She asked

"Strange at first. Like camping. Sort of extreme, liberating. Then it becomes irritating, like having some sort of low level disease. After a few months though, you get used to it."

"A choice ?"

He looked up.

"No. Nobody chooses it. I'm not sure there is a path back for me though."

He told her of his time in the system. She laughed so hard when he got to the bit about tackling them on accountability.

"You did what? You really did that?"

She shook her head. Smiling. It was infectious. He had never thought of it as amusing. He looked off into the middle distance.

"Maybe I should go back to Portugal."

Their eyes met and there was a whole conversation without words. That, no, An did not want him to leave.

Suddenly, outside in the street there was a disturbance. A small boy in a black hood.

"Hey, you. Stop."

The boy was running away with something in his hand. An old man waving and pointing. They both jumped out of their seats and ran after the boy, who ducked into an alley. An and Michael followed only two metres behind him.

In the alley though, he was quietly standing and waiting.

"Follow me. Sorry about that. I had to get you moving fast. They had a lock on you."

A network of tight alleys. Some sort of market. Stalls were only wide enough to display the barest range of goods. Tourist type items, and some domestic items. They pushed their way through, grabbing all the space they could. With only enough room to shuffle, the drones would lose line of sight. Unless they were dusted they were as good as invisible.

Finally below ground, in a basement, the boy indicated a table. They sat, until a lightly built young man entered, with two girls who were watching him, them and the door. No names were exchanged, no small talk.

"Only way to talk. Sorry." The older girl. It was like they wore a uniform of sorts. They were dressed in plain colours, shades of grey. She continued

"All you need. In the way of data." Placing a small button in front of An

"What happened?" An asked

"It started from the north. Gangs. They recruited lots of young people. Gullible. They started to go street by street. Scooping up threat bonuses."

"Bonuses?" Michael interjected.

Her face betrayed momentary annoyance. That he seemed unaware.

"Give money or we trash the place. Or you."

An asked: "Police?"

"Couldn't keep up. Fast as they grabbed them, new recruits would appear."

"Then the wash came over. Everyone slept for two days. Everyone. Nobody on the street. Silence. Then they move in and collect them. It stops."

The unasked question. Not them?

"You?"

She indicated all of them. "We don't have the implants."

Jie

Jie wondered about the data. He was grateful, in that it took his mind off the failure with MyMind. In the back of his mind, he could see some similarities between that data and what he was seeing. Unfortunately the data set was so large that he needed to move it onto the lab servers to get traction. It was the first time he had done that, and he told himself that if nothing else the experience would be useful.

He had it up and running on the central servers when Wei wandered past.

"Wow. What is that?" he said.

"I'm not exactly sure. It was on a competition site."

"It looks a bit like what you were playing with. The MyMind stuff.

"Yes. It does."

They stood there for a moment, just watching it. Then Wei pointed to a feature and said:

"You've heard of the GSE?"

"The what?"

"Geometric Similarity Engine. It's something they did here last summer. For entertainment. You put your model in, and it searches everything for similar models."

"Everything?"

"Well everything it knows about. Most."

"That's got to take a while.

"Probably most of the night. Give it a go."

So Jie set it up and went to play table tennis with Wei while it did its thing.

Nguyen

Xi was so relieved, he contacted Nguyen right away with the news. They arranged to meet later.

"You must have been worried." Nguyen said.

"Yes. I'm relieved. Maybe you should go back to the research guy you contacted. It looks like it's not what we thought it was."

Jie

Jie returned from the table tennis table, with Wei in tow. The analysis was complete.

"Shit." Jie said.

"Did you have any idea?"

"No. Any chance this is wrong?"

"I doubt it. Awareness suppressing syndromes."

"What is that?"

"Everything is still working inside. Except no input, no output. It used to be called 'locked-in syndrome'"

"But why is it here?

"I'm not sure, but it can't be good.

"So we do what?" Jie said, to himself as much as anyone.

They both had the same unspoken thought. Who would create or deploy such a thing? It was more like a weapon than anything else. Yes, there were plenty of persuasion systems. There was the tendency to regard them as harmless.

"The contact point." Wei said

"Assume he is corporate and ask him to use the quantum link?

"Do we have permission to use it?"

It was only used every few days. Mostly for the management to report upwards.

"I know someone. The director's secretary."

Jie smiled. His friend had hidden talents after all.

"It's risky." he said.

"Running it on the engine was risky as well. You are relying on nobody noticing the match."

He was right. The unspoken was who might want such a system, and what they might do with it. None of the answers were good. Jie was silent for quite a long time, weighing the possibilities. The intelligence services?. All of the choices were dangerous.

"If they are corporate then we need their help. It's too late to walk away. Our footprints are everywhere." Jie said.

The quantum teleconferencing system was very new, and quite hard to get started. It had the overwhelming advantage of being impossible to crack. Well so far, anyway. Unfortunately it was only two dimensional, which was going to require a bit of adjustment.

Watching it negotiate and synchronise. So different to the implants, which just worked seamlessly. This was a bit like cooking by hand. Maybe the party would not answer. Maybe they were already toast.

At first they just looked at each other. Sure they had trawled each other, but that was the formal stuff. In a sense they were very similar.

"Thanks for having a go at it. I was hoping somebody would pick it up." Julius said.

Jie smiled.

"It came without context though. It's a bit puzzling. Are you creating weapons?"

Julius hesitated. He could imagine Monica citing the text of his employment agreement. Now that he thought about it, he was already way out on a limb.

"We are an enhancement seller. Modify neural structure for the most rapid take up of products. Mostly games. Well so far, anyway."

"So how do we go from that. To this."

"It's very simple. We should have realised. The same mechanisms for enhancement can work in reverse as well."

"You are aware of Tianjin?"

"All we saw was a massive sale. Our biggest by far."

"It's been massaged and deleted. You won't find any evidence."

"No. We looked."

Jie showed the limited data he had.

"We never anticipated."

How could they? At the same moment that Julius was processing the full impact of it all, he was in awe of the effectiveness of it. The technical sophistication.

"I don't understand how it can work so quickly." Jie said "Hebbian reinforcement - the connections only change slowly."

"It's an illusion. You know how some people are more prone to hypnosis than others? It's the edging up to a mode change. Months of conditioning moves the neural structure to the edge. Then the right stimulus pushes it over."

Jie sat back.

"Wow."

The question was, of course: 'who could do this?' Cutting edge AI, at the frontier in neural science. Considerable resources. Unconcerned about being sued. Even on a quantum channel they were reluctant to name them.

Jie asked the obvious.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm new here. I'll have to talk to my bosses. In a sense we are all new. We're a startup. "

"Yes. I remember seeing the ads for developers."

"You didn't apply?"

Jie laughed.

"Sun, surf, sand. No. Maybe I should have."

The implications were obvious. They were in deep, deep trouble and they were going to need all the help they could get. On the other side, through this, Jie knew company destroying stuff about them. Julius was trying to think on his feet.

"If it was up to me I'd hire you now. Is it possible?"

Jie laughed nervously.

"I'll see what I can do."

"I'm going to get clearance to come there. I'll start in Shanghai."

The meetings with the trio were brief. Zeno just looked worried, but he was also clear that they had to fix it. Sending Julius was perhaps not enough, but it was a start.

An

The boy explained.

"I can take you to the leaders. But it's difficult, we have to cross town."

An looked across at Michael. This was what they had come for, wasn't it? He continued.

"They will have dusted you."

He took out a hand scanner and motioned it across Michael. Lights flashed. Then he took out what looked like a small vacuum cleaner, and ran it up and down his clothing.

"What is this?" An asked. Michael just looked quizzical.

"Harvest them. We can duplicate. You will see. Throw them off the track."

He brought out a map. Except it was a paper map that he laid out in front of them. This was the stuff only of history books. They tried not to laugh, but it made perfect sense. Any map on the network would be tapped by their pursuers.

"We have to move fast. Change modes of transport. If the leaders suspect, they will move away."

They followed him along the alley a little further until they reached a bicycle shop.

"There are two lines there - it gives us a chance."

He indicated the switch on the handlebars of the three electric bicycles. Clearly the idea was to set to as fast as possible. An was about to ask how they could possibly ride such a narrow alley. The boy was up and moving - all they could do was follow.

"We have to catch him." Michael said, as they could see him dodging the jagged path between the stalls. They pedalled to engage the motors, and the bikes kicked forward.

"There." An said. Despite being inexperienced they were getting the hang of it, and their speed increased.

Inevitably the alley came to an end, and they came to a large intersection.

No pause though, the boy dived into the stream of traffic. Almost instinctively, An looked up. They all stopped quickly in front of the train station, and looked to him for guidance.

"Hurry. Down this ramp." the boy said.

They were in luck, there was a train about to depart, with the beeping signalling the impending closure of both the platform doors, and moments later, the train doors. First the boy, then he looked back for them. Michael made the door and quickly grasped An's arm and pulled hard as the doors closed.

An smiled with relief. Michael turned to the boy. He looked concerned. The train pulled away from the platform and he turned to them.

"Three stops. We are watching the station, and it is clear but we are not sure about the surrounding streets."

Zeno

Zeno sat alone in the office, staring out across the vast open floor. He could see most of what they had created. People scurrying - ceaseless activity. Julius climbed the stairs toward him.

"So what have you found." he said. Julius looked very concerned.

"The spike of sales. The huge spike in Tianjin."

"Yes."

"The system has been flipped. It's being used to create suppression of awareness. Putting people into a virtual coma. On a large scale. A city wide scale."

"To what end? I don't understand."

"I don't either. It lasted for a couple of days, then it all reverts. They are continuing to use it for enhancement, but with different goals."

Zeno turned away, and walked to the edge of the platform, looking out over the edge. He was shaking slightly. The edge of panic. Breathe. With some effort, he managed to get some equilibrium. He signalled for Monica and Gerhardt to meet urgently. They were down there somewhere.

"Run through it." he said to Julius. So he did. They stood quietly as the truth behind their greatest success was detailed. In that one sale they had made all of the projected earnings for their first year. They were 8 months ahead of projections. If they were to brief the market, their shares would surge.

"It's a legitimate use of the product." Gerhardt said. "Yes, we didn't anticipate this use, but there is nothing there that prevents it."

"So we just let it continue?" she said.

"I didn't say that."

Zeno closed his eyes. He no longer felt the urge to shake, but when he opened his eyes again he struggled to create coherent sentences. This was in a way understandable, but not something that had happened in a very long time. He looked at them. In a very real sense they were all he had. After beginning the walks he had left behind the friends from that era. He wondered what his father would make of this. He didn't need to ponder long.

"We are not agents for knocking people out. That's not what we set out to do. It has to stop. It has to stop right now."

An

Michael and An stood in the crowded train, as Tianjin rushed past. She scanned the faces of the passengers, half wondering which of them might be pursuing them, quietly reporting back. They looked like any other bored group of workers shuffling towards their daily ritual. The boy turned to them:

"Two more stops." he said

The train slowed for the next station, and a portion of the passengers filed out of the doors, with only a trickle replacing them. Still, there was no chance of it emptying yet. They waited for the inevitable beeping, which came. Expecting the jerk, the movement, they waited. It didn't come. They looked across at the boy. He looked worried. They waited some more, and it didn't move. Now the boy was looking extremely concerned. Michael and An exchanged glances.

Tentatively, she tried the door. It was locked, but they were not moving. The pause was too long, it was clearly not part of the normal train movement. Their fellow passengers looked more annoyed than anything, but resigned to the inevitability of it all. In the moment where they had to decide what to do, to engage the emergency door release, to make a run for it. In that moment they looked outside the door.

Coming on to the platform were at least twenty armed police. Exchanging glances, they were not in any doubt that this greeting was just for them. There was absolutely nothing they could do. As the swarm of police moved towards the door, they began their bleeping and opened. To reveal an awful array of barrels pointing at them. A slightly built man, not in a uniform, moved toward them.

"Please come with us." he said.

With their armed escort, they ascended the escalators, and into the car. The quiet man sitting opposite them. Just Michael and An - as they approached the street, the boy was whisked away. They didn't even see him go.

"I am Hu Jia. You don't need to introduce yourself. I am in the information business. We will take you to a quiet place, and we can have a discussion."

An and Michael exchanged glances. The car proceeded downtown and stopped at the base of a large, new building. Quietly they were ushered to a conference room, with just themselves and Hu. He ushered the guards out of the room.

"You are concerned about our city. So are we. Yes, we have been watching you closely, and we are aware of your interpretation of what has transpired here."

Michael leaned forward.

"Disabling a whole population. I guess that keeps things quiet. Is that the aim ?"

Hu looked down, again.

"Your concern for the city is admirable. Especially for someone like you, from far away that has fallen on difficult times." He paused. "How can I put this simply. You are not getting the whole story."

"When you suppress all knowledge of the event, what are we to conclude?"

"You think we do these things for fun, for amusement?"

"To keep the population under control. Not wavering. Passive."

"That's a powerful stereotype you have there. Western democracy versus Eastern totalitarianism. Is that the script?"

An interjected.

"If that isn't the script, then be open about what happened." she said.

Hu turned to the window and stared out across the city, as if he was gathering his thoughts. Then he got up and walked to the window, studying the view.

"What happened here was a set of gangs. Criminal gangs. I suppose you would have wanted us to go out and have a polite conversation with them."

"Brain manipulation though. That's just wrong."

"Is it really? Lots of it going on. I've got 30 major companies listed in Shanghai alone."

"It's one thing to persuade, to sell. Another to knock people out."

He paused.

"Do you see any lasting damage out there, do you? People are fine. Healthy. The gangs have been caught. A new start."

There was silence. He continued.

"I won't take you through it. Clearly you are interested in what actually happened here. I'm going to release all the data to you. You can make up your own mind. There is more that you need to know though, after you have finished chasing up public officials doing their job. I'm going to give you the data and let you go."

Michael and An looked across at each other. As if deciding who and how to reply. An went first.

"Thank you. I don't know what to say."

"Not your standard script. Maybe you have learned something. Let me show you."

He brought up a full display of the data. It showed the growth of the gangs, spreading like a virus. Right to the point at which they shut them down. Overlayed though was another much smaller thread, more persistent. Where the activity failed to recover as the whole population recovered.

"What is that?" Michael asked.

"Persistent inactivity. We haven't had any luck in chasing this. Maybe you will."

An

Michael looked across the bed. An was stirring. She was messaging Chun even as her eyes opened. All of a sudden her face broke into a massive smile.

"Hi." he said.

"Hi." she said.

Even without words, it had a 'first day of the rest of your life' aspect. Chun burst into the room, wearing the most enormous grin.

"Morning. Morning.

"We have a helper." Michael said

"He has the 'boy genius' look about him. I guess we hope he lives up to it." Chun said

"Yes."

They needed a place to plan. Michael had the report from Jie. It was unequivocal in its description of the syndrome. Also clear in its effects on the person suffering. An and Chun sat at one end of the table.

"We'll take it the other way. Likely sources of the programming." An said.

"Good idea." Michael said. "Complex services. Any of the delivery type companies. Also games."

"Games. Yes." Chun said.

Taking it from the user side was very much like looking for a needle in a haystack. You had to take an individual and get their movements. Form a distribution, look for deviations from that. Fortunately they had enormous computing power, and although it was daunting, once they had the machines formed it was just a matter of running them.

An was doing a broader search. She looked for correlations between the temporary activity suppression from Julius and service providers. She was experimenting with different threshold levels. It was really tricky. She had it in motion, spinning past taking each of the companies in turn.

Then, An's visual field went black. She fell off her chair, onto the floor. Michael rushed to her side.

"Everything is black. Everything is black." An said.

He didn't hesitate.

"I'm going to turn the implants off." he said.

"No. No." Chun said.

It was an emergency protocol. There had to be a mechanism in case they went faulty. Technically it was meant to be done only by a biomedical qualified practitioner. Michael knew the codes though. He hovered, and pressed buttons. Connecting, and then issuing the shutdown codes.

"Is everyone else ok?" he asked. This was not something accidental. She had strayed onto something. Some secret that had triggered an attack. The implants were shutting down. It was a slow process. An would come out of it but be groggy. Apart from anything else she had to get used to seeing without the implants. The last time she had done that she was two years old.

She tried standing up, but swayed awkwardly. Michael held her steady.

"How do you feel?" he said

"OK, OK. Just a bit unsteady."

Michael had An's processes up on the display. Running them through, looking for clues.

"I don't think we are safe here." Julius said.

Michael turned. He was about to argue - that they were on a highly secure server. That almost everything they were doing was location masked. Then he looked across at An. Chun nodded that she agreed.

"Where?" An asked.

As in, where was safe? Was anywhere safe?

"We need to re-identify An's implants. They have a lock on them. Most likely they have this location." Michael was working it through. If this was some sort of government agency then there was only a few minutes before they were in the building.

Julius was thinking the same.

"I don't think it is a government thing." he said as he looked at An's searches.

"One of these companies is responsible. They traced it."

He was right, it had to be something specific. Michael was thinking.

"The researcher, Jie. The one that identified this. Where is he?" Michael said

"It's pretty remote." Julius brought it up on a map.

Remote was good. Remote meant that if they approached they would be noticed. They could mask everything online.

"OK. Let's pay him a visit." Michael said.

They didn't need any encouragement. Chun could walk, and with Michael on one arm and An on the other, they made progress towards the elevator. So far, so good.

"Move fast out of the building. Head for the station." Michael said. He figured they were about to test their assumption about government security. If it was them, then they would not get out of the building. There was a pillar, and they huddled behind it.

"Can you run?" Michael asked An

"Yes." she said.

He scanned the street.

"It's best if we don't take the most direct path to the station. See that lane about three hundred metres away." he pointed. "Make for that, go all the way to the end, then turn left towards the station."

They ran, with An trailing slightly. A group huddling and scurrying. Michael watched the street as they ran. There were no signs of anyone to intercept them, and he slowed slightly. An could not keep up.

"Seems clear." Julius said.

It was morning still, before the crowds of lunchtime. There were enough pedestrians for them to blend in. Or at least not to stand out too much. Michael estimated there were less than one hundred metres to the lane. He began to relax slightly.

Swerving out of the stream, a car ducked right, then swung around to almost face the pavement. In an instant it had mounted the pavement in front of them.

"The car." Julius said.

The age of cars being a danger ended some time ago - this was an experience from before they were even born. They almost had no way of processing it. For an awful instant, they faced it. Time seemed to slow down. In the midst of accelerating, the car was aiming straight at them. Michael spread himself flat against the front of the shops. Although the car could be directed to aim at people, it had survival programming that would not let it be steered towards a wall that might destroy it. It seemed to touch them as it slid past.

"Run." Michael said. He didn't want to wait for another car. They ran, down the lane, and right towards the train station. Julius waved them to a stop outside the main entrance.

"I don't think we can go straight in there." Julius said.

Involuntarily, Michael looked up at the surveillance cameras. He told himself 'relax, they got us outside the building because they tracked our location. They don't have access to the government networks.' Then he looked up and down the street. It was simple enough for them to send a person down to follow them. They could not take the chance.

In a way a train station is the perfect place to not be followed. There is a constant flow of people. The four of them threaded their way to platform 2, waiting for a train to stop. Getting on, and waiting for the bell indicating departure. Jumping off, and making for platform 4. Doing the same. Then back to platform 1and staying on. Then taking one stop, going through the tunnel and taking the train back to where they started from. It was enough to shake any human follower.

Enough time. More than enough time, even at 1200km/hr there was time to consider what exactly they were dealing with.

"Not government." Michael said.

"Yes. One of the companies that An examined." Julius said.

"How many?"

"Around a thousand. Services, games, anything complex."

"It has to be buried inside the delivery?"

"I guess. If you look at Jie's report, there is a lot of stuff. It's not a matter of just flinging a few bits at the implants."

"An's thing is different?"

"Yes. More like a blip. It blanked her out, but didn't affect her awareness once we got her offline."

"Is it a warning?"

"Could be. 'This is what we are capable of, mess with us and this is what happens' "

"She must have got very close."

"Yes."

It wasn't going to progress until they got to Jie's lab. Michael's attention turned to An.

"How are you feeling? Any better?" he asked

"A lot better. I'm fine, don't worry."

"It was serious. Maybe we should find a place for you away from this."

"Don't go all protective on me. I picked the story. This is what I do."

"Of course. I didn't mean."

They knew little about each other. It was always going to be bumpy. A silence descended over their carriage. The irresistible urge pressing the eyelids down. Something about the very slight jiggling and the knowledge that you were speeding across the western plains of China.

Jie was overwhelmed. He remembered the meeting with Nguyen, and the gulf of despair following that. Last night he had greeted Julius at the small airport last night. He didn't even know that it was there - had never seen it used before. Here were Michael, An and Chun standing on the platform. They looked so pleased to see him.

"I am Jie."

After the introductions, they filed into the large car and headed in the direction of the lab. Michael quietly explained about the blanking out. The car on the way to the station. Between all of them, they were trying to estimate the reach of whoever was doing this.

It was simple enough for them to be guests of the lab. They didn't get many visitors, and being new meant they had empty accommodation. They did not have to leave the perimeter, and it somebody determined their location then they could hardly get through the perimeter without being noticed.

After collecting their thoughts, they gathered in a room with Jie. He went through his report and explained how the reduced awareness programming worked.

"It needs a few weeks to work. There are layers involved."

He pointed to an anatomy diagram. How the lower layers needed to be prepared for the higher control.

Michael thanked Jie, and turned to the others.

"I say we look at the financials of all of the companies on An's list."

Julius had been working in that direction as the presentation had continued. In the trip from Australia he had plenty of time to study, and had already absorbed most of Jie's talk. He had the scripts up, and the graphics on the display. Michael was impressed. Julius explained.

"There are five really. Profits in the last two years more than two sigma beyond their rivals, with a rate of growth more than two sigma above."

"Business types?" Michael asked.

"Complex service delivery. Various. No real pattern there."

They had an understanding of the target.

"What about the victims?" An asked.

"Again, no real pattern. All types."

Chun asked. "Any people without relatives?"

The room froze. Such an obvious question to ask, and yet nobody had asked it. That was the problem, you tended to focus on the complex. It only took a few seconds.

Julius blinked. He looked, and then displayed the curves.

"None. Absolutely none."

Chun voiced their thoughts.

"I think they are taking people's minds hostage. For money." she said.

The room was silent. It was totally consistent with all of the facts they had so far. Including the financials. Which left the obvious question: what to do? Call in the police? Would they believe them? Most difficult was the material evidence. They didn't actually have a victim. Michael articulated it.

"The police won't get involved without a victim."

With a room full of technical geniuses, An raised the obvious point.

"Can we get them out of the trance?" she said, turning to Jie.

"Yes. There are documented therapies. It takes time, and the right facilities. It can be done."

An turned and continued.

"OK. We buy a customer base for the top 5. Then we message their customers. If there is somebody being held hostage, then someone will contact us."

"Buy where?" Michael said.

"Just contract it. Right money somebody will bite." Julius said.

He was right. Between themselves and Sentiment, it could be done. As they slept, the auction markets would do their thing.

Breakfast at the lab was quite a ritual. They all huddled into the large room, with a higher density of nerds per square metre than possibly anywhere else on the planet.

"How do we do this?" Michael asked, turning to An. There were lots of technical choices, but she had the running.

"We talk to the relatives. Then we go from there." she said.

"How?" he said.

"You're the genius." she said.

Yes, he was. Although often the purely technical solutions were not the best. Just the presence of a highly encrypted stream in a normal commercial service would throw all sorts of alarms. It's something they would be looking for. It was a bit like using a missile to open the front door.

"I suggest we keep it low tech. Something really innocuous, that will slide past the monitors."

They collectively meditated on it while eating their breakfast.

"Something vague." Julius said.

"Something innocent you mean." An said. "Hard to detect by the automatic systems. They don't have the depth to pick up on the cross interpretation. A human reader will go in different directions to a computer."

Michael and Julius looked at each other.

"OK. Have we got any contenders?"

"About 20 top possibilities." Julius said.

Zeno

The call from Julius was to update him, but the part about An was disturbing.

It was too easy, too fast. Zeno called up the traces. A surveillance attack would have some delay, some processing at least. It would commence when they came into an area with feeds. It would be lost when they took the usual precautions. He sat with Gerhardt and Monica in the top meeting room. Just the three of them, and a wall of data feeds.

Monica pointed to the attack. Displayed in abstract form, it had a lot of detail. Of course they could not trace the origin, but even this level of detail showed a lot. She indicated the initial sequence.

"No hesitation, no search. Look at the sequence."

She pointed to the nodes in the diagram. It was clear. In the absence of sensory data, in areas where it was impossible to capture they had a lock. It stayed locked.

Gerhardt walked toward the window and stared towards the waves.

"They are not going to get far." he said quietly. "Unless we help them."

Were the chasers the same people who had just created the huge surge in sales? If so, were they the sort of people who would take revenge? Monica continued.

"OK. Maybe they are our biggest customer. Maybe they are going to continue with this. We can't just sit and watch. I'm not going to sit and watch."

Zeno stood up.

"I'll get on it." he said. Walking in the direction of the stairs down to the work area. No, he didn't want to have that conversation either. He didn't really have a plan, he just walked. Until he reached the end of the work area, where there was a vacant desk, with a view back towards the rainforest in the distance. For what seemed like a long time, he just sat there. Around him work continued. They were careful not to disturb him, as he was obviously lost in something.

Turning to his left, he realised he was sitting in the security area. As if his subconscious had guided him.

"I'm sorry, I should remember your name." Zeno said.

"Himanshu. You gave our induction talk." he said, smiling.

"Like it here?"

"It's great. Everything I dreamed of. Cutting edge science, networking. Great people. Great facilities."

"I've got a task for you."

Zeno explained. Himanshu listened quietly. The urgency of it, the tracking. The traces. How important it was to uncover what was going on.

"Very rapid. Yes." he said. "This is not a surveillance process. It is direct. This is mind to mind. It is too fast to be any other way."

"How long to trace it?"

Himanshu looked at the display. At the traces. Then back at Zeno.

"Later today, I think. I have some friends outside the company, if that is ok?"

"Anything"

Meifen

Meifen had managed ok the first day. Her husband always left very early in the morning, when Huan was asleep. Returning late, he would only see him for half an hour or so. Still he looked forward to it. It had taken an endless variety of tricks to hide it. Now she was at an end. Like a wave, starting small, then growing until she physically shook. If she looked into his room, she felt a surge of helplessness. The instructions were clear: she was to contact no-one. If they could do that, what else could they do? She had somehow convinced her husband that Huan was sick, and needed his rest.

It hung there in the air, above Huan's box that connected him to the game. Apart from anything else it was the sheer incongruity of the message.

"Really enjoyed 'Treasure Island', can't wait to read some more of his books.'

Just like that. Sender anonymous: as in really anonymous. Hidden in the quantum network. In an instant she had in the visual view the other books by Robert Louis Stevenson: only one title registered 'Kidnapped'. The message had a second part:

"Tell us how you enjoyed the book at: StevensonLovers@ ..."

Maybe it was a trick? So many maybes. Again, she started shaking. She had to get out of there. It was too much. Out. Anywhere. The water's edge was close. She tried not to think of Huan lying there, or whether he would recover. The sight of the sea, of the ferries going back and forth soothed her. The physical act of walking slowed her thinking just that little bit. As she approached the main jetty, there were the usual homeless people sheltering in the shade of the fish shop. All of a sudden, she realised what she had to do. An old man, sitting just at the end away from the others.

"Excuse me." she said. "Can you send a message."

He looked confused. "You will pay me?"

"Yes, of course."

She dictated the message, and he sent it. She walked back to the flat feeling just that little bit calmer.

Zeno

Zeno walked while Himanshu did his thing. That pull was still there, the urge for isolation. Somehow now it didn't work. It was a trap, that. The thought that there was some easy way back. 'I'll just work on this for a while, a few years, then I can return.' The idea that there was a way back. Zeno walked slowly up the ridge behind the main office. He had startled the security guard on the gate. Watched him walk forward with the script ready to play. Then the shock of recognition, and the opening of the gate. Not his place to question him.

No, there was no way back. The weight of it all. It was as if he saw into the kitchens, the play rooms of the employees. All those people dependent on him. From nothing to all this in no time flat. Still, he told himself, yes it was possible to walk away from it. He kept a strength. He kept the ability. Or so he told himself.

The view did not disappoint. It was stunning. With only an hour's walk, he could stand at the top. Slowly he circled and, no, not really he could see no signs of civilisation. He turned around and half expected to be turning to pick up the heavy pack and throw it on his back. Muscle memory. He laughed.

Returning, Himanshu was in the conference room, alone. He caught sight of the look on Himanshu's face, a look that was appropriate for somebody in the immediate family having died. Zeno grinned, and was about to make a light hearted comment to that effect. Himanshu stared down, as if assembling his thoughts. The silence stretched, and then stretched some more. To the point where Zeno felt he had to say something. He assumed that perhaps he had found little, after all it might take days.

"I expect its difficult." he said.

Then the silence came back. Suddenly Himanshu looked up, straight at him.

"It's you." he said.

Zeno almost laughed. As if such a thing could be possible. It was simply not possible for someone to get through their defences, the company defences, without leaving a trace. He had total confidence in them. Then it came to him. The therapy sessions.

"How?" he asked feebly.

Himanshu explained. Zeno thought of Monica and Gerhardt. Of explaining. There was no time though. At least they had found the weak point, and could fix it.

Jie

At the lab, visitors were rare enough that they invited a personal visit from the director. Nervously, at the evening meal, Jie could see him approaching their table. He had only a few seconds to decide how to play it. Invent a fictional cover story? If he was going to do that then he should have rehearsed the rest of the group. No, he was going to have to play it relatively straight. He just hoped that they would be sensitive enough to his position.

"You seem to be quite the celebrity here, Jie." he said, jovially enough.

"This is Michael, a consultant, Julius from the major software supplier. An and Chun are both journalists. You might have seen their coverage of the national assembly."

"What has brought such a set of distinguished visitors?"

There was an element here of obvious breach of protocol. If he was going to have such a set of visitors, especially involving journalists, then he should have warned quite a few people, who would have in turn warned the Director. Fortunately, An jumped straight in:

"It came up at our request. Jie here has done some of the most important research on awareness suppression by neural programming. We insisted on visiting at short notice."

Michael picked up on the thread.

"We came along to see first hand."

All of this was good, even if it significantly amplified Jie's role in the whole thing. It was a workable cover. One that would appeal to a fledgling research director of a lab in the middle of nowhere. He imagined that the director was having second thoughts about the whole venture. Especially as he had to leave his family behind in Shanghai. Young children enrolled in school were on the beginning of a lifetime of climbing the ladder. They were in the 'right' kindergarten, which in turn lead to the 'right' school, and the 'right' University. His wife was not going to abandon the grip on the ladder to flee to the countryside. Which of course left all of the occupants of the lab firmly on the wrong path. How were they supposed to somehow find their way back? Such were the vagaries of government driven decentralisation.

"Awareness suppression? It sounds quite fascinating. How, I wonder is this of interest to Sentiment?"

Now it got tricky. That was the problem of thinking on your feet, you needed to be careful where it went. Why indeed? Had Sentiment discovered a sudden passion for anaesthetising it's customers? Jie flashed a desperate look in the direction of Julius, who as the resident boy genius must, surely, have a way through this.

Julius laughed.

"Of course we are not going to reduce the awareness of our customers. Quite the opposite. This research enables us to enhance our product delivery. It is very significant for us."

This saved the day. The director continued to chat, and drifted off, suitably involved.

"Brilliantly done." Jie said.

They returned to the room.

Michael broke the silence.

"What makes us think that a victim, or their family, will talk to us?"

Nobody was going to do a cheering up type speech. Yes, they had identified something. Yes, they had to fix it. Yes, they had something they were trying. To be confident you would have to be delusional.

Jie promised them a visit to the local village. So the next morning they all bundled into a small bus. It rattled along the quiet country roads and deposited them. Shakily they got out, and walked along the street. A few simple stalls, and a few expectant sellers. As if they had all lost faith in the presence of buyers, but were going through the motions anyway. So quiet that their bus was the most interesting thing that had happened all morning. Michael took in the surroundings. It reminded him of any small town in Australia. The town most likely would have only one store, with a person that liked talking to travellers.

He carefully picked a cafe for them. He tried to find one that had at least some foreigners in it, as he thought that was what Michael and Julius would prefer. They went along with him, but they would have preferred the most local, the most obscure. The cafe with only Mandarin, or local dialect, menus. It would be impolite to not go along with Jie's guidance.

Now they were filling time.

"How do you stand it out here?" Julius asked Jie.

"I'm a researcher. It's good for my work. Nothing to do except do research."

"I guess."

He was going to defend the place further, but he ran out of enthusiasm. They ate quietly and eased into silence. As if on cue, the message came up in their shared visual field.

'That other book.'

Such a simple message. It was delivered to the email address that they had created.

"Where?" An asked.

"Give us a minute." Julius said. He half expected it to be masked, or hidden in the quantum network. It was almost too good to be true.

"Hong Kong." he said. "Peng Chau."

Just as quickly as they had arrived, they were moving again. No need to discuss. Even it other responses came in, they needed only one. As the train quietly rocked towards the east, the unspoken became spoken.

"Can they track us?" An asked. In a way she was asking whether they could expect another attack.

Michael looked at Julius. Michael took the cue.

"We are very careful. Somehow though they seem to be almost one step ahead of us."

When An woke they were just outside Chenzou. A major stop before Hong Kong. She could see Michael and Julius quietly talking, and pointing to objects in the shared visual field. An blinked, and then focussed on it. She couldn't make any sense of it.

"What is that?" she asked.

"Probing. The source is cloaked, but most likely it is our friends." Michael said.

Now he had everyone's attention.

"If they can trace us to this train then we are in trouble." he said.

"So?" An asked.

"So we get off at Chenzou. We can't take the risk."

"How do we get further?" An asked.

"We will worry about that later. Right now we have to find a place to hide." he said.

They had begun slowing for the stop. Instinctively, they looked around at the other passengers milling at the door. Wondering if any of them were watching them, waiting for them to hit the platform before striking. It was hard not to be paranoid.

An tried to remember things about Chenzou. She had been there once as a high school student. All she remembered was the hill - Suxian Hill, with a view of the city, and the hostel where they had stayed. Where was it? It was all lost in time.

The beeping of the door brought her back to earth. They huddled together as a group, and looked to Michael to make a plan.

"Just keep moving. He said. Follow me."

Julius was watching the probing, and trying to keep an eye on the sky. Drones had to be registered, so by watching the authority, he could track them. Of course they could have cloaked them, but it risked them being blown out of the sky. City authorities were on a hair trigger for armed drones. Michael walked fast out of the station, straight up the main street, and into a cafe.

An, Chun and Jie huddled at one table, while Michael and Julius went through all of the traces. Looking for signs. A bit like sifting sand, looking for gold.

"Ok. We go." Michael said

"Where?" An asked

"Back on the train." he said.

Just as they had rapidly exited, so they slowly walked back. There would be another train in about 20 minutes. Some time to contemplate exactly what they would do once they got to Hong Kong. It was not at all obvious.

"The police?" An asked Michael.

"I talked to them. No evidence, no interest. Yes, an interesting theory, but as theories go a bit far fetched. End of conversation."

"You do realise what they will do, if we don't get there first." An said. "The victim is evidence. I'm assuming they have lots of victims. One less won't seriously impact on the cash flow."

"Yes. I understand." Michael said.

Silence reigned again.

"It's not going to be easy to get out of Hong Kong station." Julius said, to nobody in particular.

There was a fair chance of them being located before they got to Hong Kong station. Without taking action, they would be trapped. It was crowded, narrow, and ideal for containing them.

"I think we need a diversion?" Julius said.

"What did you have in mind?" Michael asked.

The two of them retired to the vacant seats on the other side of the carriage. Leaving Jie, An and Chun to talk amongst themselves.

"Our friends." An said. "How do you estimate them?"

An replied.

"Multi-national. Most likely in entertainment. Falling market share in traditional products. Shareholders getting restless. Some genius buried deep finds a way of generating huge growth. Some on the inside know, others choose to turn a blind eye. It's buried within the organisation. Everyone, including the police, are reluctant to take them on. Large, deep pockets, ruthless."

Jie stayed silent. He could see the logic, but he didn't like the implications. He went across to join Michael and Julius. Maybe he could help.

Now there were only 15 minutes to go. Michael came across.

"This is a map of the station." he brought it up on their shared view "Study it closely. You will have the geo-tagged heads-up to guide you, but it's a bit poky in there. It might not cover us all the way."

An was going to ask why they could not just follow the other passengers, but she wasn't going to interrupt the flow.

"We won't be able to take the train to the Pang Chau ferry point. It will have to be by car. Don't worry, I've got it organised. Stick close, and follow me."

It was late in the afternoon, getting dark. As they drew in to Hong Kong station, the lights were coming on. Not that it was pitch dark, but very soon it would be.

As the train slowed, they huddled close together. Following Michael's instructions. Edging ever closer to stationary, the train finally stopped. A bell sounded and the doors did their push out, and slid to one side. Julius looked at Michael. He nodded, and made a gesture. Instantly, all of the lights went out. The remaining passengers queued at the door stopped.

Michael simply said "Excuse Me." and pushed through. There was enough light to make out directions. It was so rare for the power to fail, that everyone just froze. The escalators had people on them, but they could push forward. In a line, with Michael and Julius at the front, Jie, An and Chun behind them. They climbed.

"We need to make the walkway." Michael said. The pedestrian path towards the port. Normally it had a powered carpet, so all you needed to do was stand and it would carry you.

"Our friends." Michael pointed upwards. The walkway was glass covered, and above them they could see a vast array of drones. Many of them. Circling, and diving over the mass of humanity in the walkway. There was a lot of searching going on. A drone would go to the end of the walkway, then accelerate vertically and return to the beginning just above Central station. Clearly they had them located to within a distance. The walkway was fully enclosed though, and it was not possible for the drones to gain entrance. They were walking parallel to Man Yiu street, and Michael estimated they were only about 800 metres from the ferry terminal. Of course it all changed if they knew which ferry they were taking. Michael was gambling that they did not know.

"Walk slowly." Michael said. "Don't look up."

He was sensible. In such a tight crowd, the software could not isolate them, could not identify them. All the drones could do was to cluster at the end of the walkway.

Meifen had been putting it off, hiding from the obvious. She walked into Huan's room. He was still lying immobile on the bed. For a very long time, she stared at the communicator, then she rang her husband.

"It's Huan she said. He is sick. I think you should come home right now." she said.

"Are you sure? The power just went out here. I'll have to walk to the ferry terminal. OK. I'll be there in less than thirty minutes." He rang off. She was surprised that he had agreed so quickly. Perhaps it was the tone of her voice.

An was worried. She knew this part of Hong Kong well. They had to get on the ferry at Pier Number 6.

It was only another 200 metres. Above them, the circling drones seemed to multiply. Dangerous to stop, dangerous to continue. He motioned to Julius: they briefly conversed. Together they walked over to the crowd that milled around the ferry. He stepped up to a group of men and women.

"I need five people: three men, two women to walk to Pier 2. Quickly, in a group."

They looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"I'll pay you ten bitcoins to do it."

With a glance at each other, they committed immediately.

So it was that the group headed off towards Pier 2, with a flotilla of drones hovering above them. Seizing the moment, Michael, Julius, Jie, An and Chen quietly headed for Pier 6. As fate would have it, there was a boat ready to depart. Although the boats were all electric, they were completely independent of the on-shore power supply. They could see the lights flicker, and the power come on again on the mainland as they set off into the harbour.

"A temporary respite." An said.

"Yes. One drone per ferry to track until arrival. Then it will start again." Michael said.

Jie turned to Michael.

"The victim?" he asked.

"No, I only have a location - Peng Chau." Michael said.

Steadily the ferry chopped its way across the harbour.

They sat and brooded.

"Any ideas?" Michael asked.

"We don't even know where the victim is." Chun said.

"I have a send location, but of course they will have moved." Michael said.

The gloom of the harbour matched the mood onboard. Until, seemingly magically, one of the very few manned boats was visible off to one side. At first it appeared that they would ignore their waving. Then, Michael shouted a bitcoin amount across the void. A large enough amount. The boat's sole occupant waved agreement. For that amount he would ignore whatever the risk was.

Given the speed of the ferry, there was no way that the smaller boat could come to the side. Instead it lingered nearby. They would have to jump, and swim to the smaller boat. A glance at each other, and a leap into the dark. Anything was better than whatever waited for them at the small jetty. Into the inky black, and the cold of the water. Then a desperate swim to be gathered by the smaller boat, and making sure that everyone was on board. The startled passengers on the ferry did not have time to react, they were left totally puzzled by the departure.

Not really a dock. Just a few planks tied together, with a pole leaning. Out of sight of the main jetty, it was perfect. The boatman was still smiling from making six months income from a single 10 minute passenger journey. Maybe he sensed that he was in danger, but right now he just didn't care.

"Thank you." An said.

"No. Thank you." He said, and pointed to the path.

Huddled together, they took shelter behind a building. Close to the water there was low brush and undergrowth. The buildings were a bit makeshift and run down. Everyone turned to Michael.

"They have us, and the victim on Peng Chau. If they already had a location for the victim, they would not be chasing us." He said.

"We don't have the victim either." An said. "I'm not at all sure how to locate them without getting them killed."

"I suggest we all go dark, find a place to stay and work it out."

Going dark involved disconnection. Something all of them might have done once or twice in their whole lives. They could still navigate, using the satellites and receiving local navigator beacons, in receive mode. No transmissions though.

The more unlikely the place to stay, the better. It was a typical Peng Chau street. Double storey houses, no sign of a bigger hotel. Nobody stayed as a tourist on Peng Chau. It was a day trip kind of place.

Inevitably they went in a broad arc, which brought them back to the main jetty, and the public square. Gingerly, they edged forward. An was at the front, and stepped out. So small, it was almost invisible: they could not see where it came from. A tiny drone. It her on the chest, with a slight puff of some sort of gas enveloping her face. Chun's knees simply ceased to work, and she crumpled to the pavement.

"Shit. " An said. "Quick. Grab her. Move. Move it."

They could not put another face out there. Grabbing her by the feet, Julius dragged her back, and together with Jie lifted her horizontally, carrying her like you would a bag. Nobody had to say anything. They were retreating away from the buildings to whatever cover they could find. Without help, they would be like Chun in seconds. Michael glanced around for cover, without daring to look up at the drones. The horrible swoosh as they came in low, scanned and dodged buildings - that was bad enough.

As they retreated, they came to a small restaurant or tavern. A local eating place. All locals inside. In they came, clearly not locals, and carrying an unconscious girl.

Both sides came to a halt. Hesitating. Nothing like this ever happened on Peng Chau, ever. It invented the term "sleepy hollow". Nobody was telling them to go out, or asking what they wanted. A woman came over and wiped Chun's brow, looking anxiously for signs of life. She listened for breathing, felt for a heartbeat. Clearly Chun was out of it, but still alive. Here they were, drenched, in difficulty.

Michael hesitated. He was about to make Bitcoin gestures. Buy some help. He looked across at An. She just went for it.

"We are being pursued by a rogue company. They did this to our friend. We need your help. They are coming for us. We think they have taken over the minds of people on the island. That is why we are here."

An older man was right next to Chun, who lay across the table. He was holding a drink, although he did not look drunk. He looked across at the proprietor of the restaurant. No words were exchanged. The silence seemed to stretch for ever.

"Come this way." He said. They went through a door, into an alley. He pointed to the stairs, which looked like a fire escape, but it took them to the upper reaches of an apartment building. He opened a door, and gestured for them to enter. A brief conversation out of earshot, and they were inside.

The room overlooked the public square. As they threw themselves onto the beds, Chun began to come round. Shaking her head.

"What happened?" She said.

"Some sort of gas." An said.

"How did we end up here?"

"We asked for help." Michael said.

Ask and it will be given, Chun thought. Amazing.

In the silence, in the darkness Michael tried to collect his thoughts. It was a small island, the number of candidates as victims could only be in the hundreds. Take out the very young, and the old.

"I need to go back online." He said.

"You sure that's wise?" Julius said.

"To locate the victim."

"Which might give away both of us."

The conversation trailed off. After the swim, and the chase. They were all exhausted. Jie sat and thought of possibilities, finding his eyelids heavier and heavier.

Meifen

Meifen was dreading the footsteps outside the door, and its opening. Anger at his son's state, at the secrecy. Instead her husband was absolutely silent. He walked slowly to Huan's bedroom and stood at the end of the bed. It seemed an eternity he stood there.

Jie

Sometime in the middle of the night, An woke and sought out Michael. They climbed to the rooftop. It was spectacular - the glistening lights of Central, the stars above. Just held each other. As if somehow they could each be an anchor.

"Find a way?" She asked.

"No. Just more probes. I should not stay on. They will find one of us again."

"They could just attack the whole island." She said, thinking out loud.

"No. Too much. You are thinking of them like some secret army."

"How do you see them?"

"An escapade that got out of hand. A small group. This will be unwound."

She was going to object, but he was probably right. In any case the skyline and the stars had a calming effect. Later they slipped back down the stairs.

Julius was sitting quietly as they all woke and gathered. The proprietor of the cafe arrived and ushered them down. Michael gestured with a payment. It was waved away.

Michael looked up into the sky, searching for drones.

"I have been unable to find the victim on the island. However there will be a police operation the second we find him or her."

Julius waited for Michael to finish. Then he turned to the whole cafe.

"We have to all go dark. Here is how we play it. Every person here tells two other people that we are looking for the victim. They in turn tell two more. No technology. Just word of mouth."

It was so simple. Chun felt like standing and applauding. Instead, they all immediately fanned out and began the task. On the face of it, even with the small population of Peng Chau, it was hard to imagine that it could be done quickly. The key was every person telling two other people. It fanned out very quickly.

"The reverse path back to us. When we have the location, we will work it out. Tell them I will come and get the victim walking."

Word spread quickly.

Meifen was reluctant to answer the door. She checked the window, and recognised her neighbour.

"There is a group down at the landing. They are looking for victims of what they called mind-stealing. A person loses all awareness."

She could not hold any longer. Falling forward into her arms, she uttered such a strong wailing sound that her husband rushed into the room. Together they shepherded her to the lounge.

"Huan. He got this game. It..."

She told her story. Her neighbour listened, then all of a sudden interrupted her. "I have to go back. Tell them you are found. They will come and try and revive him."

"Wait. Don't tell them our location. They threatened to..." She tailed off and began crying again.

At the cafe, the news triggered a wave of messaging, and a wave of discussion.

An reiterated. "Put the victim in the street and you know what will happen."

Julius was not worried. He was connected to the police.

"OK. You are ready? We will go to the final phase."

Michael looked concerned, but he was confident in Julius. He disappeared with a local guiding him.

"OK. Gather around. This is how we will do it. Every person in Peng Chau is going to take to the streets at 3pm. Absolutely everyone. Amongst that crowd will be the victim heading for us."

Again, so simple. It started with a trickle. A few people milling about in the public square near the jetty. Above them, the drones circled. Michael, Julius, Jie, An and Chun joined the crowd. It surged as the numbers grew. More and more. It turned into an impromptu celebration. As Julius arrived with Huan walking beside him, they all cheered. Huan still looked not himself, but just the fact that he was walking was enough.

"Wow." An said.

"Yes. Brilliant." Michael said.

They all smiled, and took in the crowd. It was going to be ok.
