Page 21 - Tales Apocalyptic and Dystopian

The Infoarchy

be completely public, while its users are, in fact, incompletely private;
our gain in capacity and competency has been accompanied by a loss
of anonymity and independence. Were the system totally honest, to
use a word no longer much in circulation, it might have been worth
the price.”
Lester relaxed. Resistance was fatiguing. He no longer felt like a
man who had just enjoyed a very long nap.
“Some of us have tested the system’s reliability. We now know
several unpleasant things. First, every communication is subject to
interception by an organ of the Infoarchy you would recognize as a
secret police. Second, the information we, as citizens, can access is
not unbiased, nor is it universally available. Projects are being
executed by the Infoarchy about which nothing can be learned by the
public—not easily, at least, and the wrong sort of inquiries lead to the
identification and neutralization of individuals who are too curious.
Many of us who distrust the Infoarchy have resorted to older
methods of gathering and distributing information in order to avoid
detection. Unfortunately, when anyone talks, the subvocal transmitter
picks up those words just as it does when we thinkspeak.”
“So I have a very limited period of time before I am discovered.
My friends and I have learned that a new technology is being
developed to extend the mind and senses: neural implants. It was
only a matter of time. They will be injected like vaccinations into the
newborn. These micromechanical processors will find their targets in
the neonatal brain and integrate themselves with every nascent center
of cognition. The individual will cease to function as an independent
organism; he or she will not know if a thought or perception has
originated inside the brain or has been broadcast from the Infoarchy.
Consciousness and self-consciousness will not be distinct states of
awareness. It will, in short, be the end of mankind as a primate
species and its beginning as a group of cybernetic social insects, ruled
by the unknowable whims of the Infoarchy.”
Lester Morris blinked and grimaced.
“I—I can’t follow all that. I just want my disease cured, like it says
in my contract with Westwood Cryonics, and a chance to start a new
life.”
“That will be impossible. First, there is no effective medical
intervention for your condition. You have been reanimated for

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