“Exactly. With intelligence this great, you can’t help but feel superior and almost invincible. And you really could get away with almost anything. At the same time, you clearly see the stark reality. There is no God. There is no afterlife.”
Desh bristled at this pronouncement. “Why would increased intelligence necessarily make you an atheist?” he challenged.
“The change in brain architecture transforms you into a purely intellectual creature. There is no longer room for faith, something you have to have to sustain a belief in God and the afterlife.”
“So how does your enhanced intellect grapple with the question of how the universe came to be? It surely must have been created, which implies a creator.”
“I can’t come close to understanding my thinking on this subject while in the transformed state. What I do know is that when I’m enhanced, I’m absolutely convinced that God does not exist.” She paused. “You asked me who created the universe. Let me ask you this: who created God?”
Desh frowned. “God is eternal. He didn’t need a creator.”
“Really?” said Kira. “Then why does the universe need one? If God can exist without a creator, why can’t the universe? No matter how you slice it, at some point you get to something that existed without being created. Which is impossible for even an enhanced mind to fully comprehend. Conjuring up a God to explain creation is just a convenient cheat unless you’re prepared to explain how God originated.” She paused. “And even if you accepted God for the sake of argument, why would an omniscient, omnipotent being waste his time creating humanity? The more intellect you bring to bear on the question, with faith out of the picture, the more certain you become that God is just a construct of the human mind, nothing more.”
Desh shook his head in irritation and disagreement but didn’t argue further. “So enhanced intelligence alters the balance of power in the altruism versus sociopathy war.”
Kira nodded. “It takes very little reasoning in this state to justify any selfish act I can contemplate. If someone is in my way—killing them makes perfect intellectual sense. What does it matter if they die now or in thirty years? Either way, existence is meaningless. God is dead. Why shouldn’t I do what is needed to achieve my potential?” She raised her eyebrows. “Remind you of anything?” she asked pointedly.
Desh had minored in philosophy in college, as Kira was no doubt aware from her study of him. He looked troubled. “Friedrich Nietzsche’s will to power,” said Desh unhappily. Nietzsche had glorified the concept of a superman. Not the Clark Kent variety, but a man whose sense of good and evil was based solely on what would help him succeed or fail. Good was anything that would help him achieve his potential. Evil was anything that would hamper him. What is good? All that heightens the feeling of power in man, the will to power, power itself. What is bad? All that is born of weakness.
Kira frowned. “I’m afraid so,” she confirmed. “In the enhanced state, as soon as you contemplate any of the eternal questions, you quickly reinvent this school of philosophy before taking it to a level of sophistication that the world’s greatest philosophers couldn’t possibly comprehend.”
There was a long silence in the room.
“But you said you haven’t acted on any of these sociopathic tendencies,” said Desh finally. “Is that right?”
“So far, no,” she said gravely. “My inherent sense of altruism and fair play has been strong enough—barely—to prevent me from acting on these impulses. But they’re quite strong,” she admitted. “It’s been tempting to let go of my last bit of pesky Neanderthal wiring and release myself from all moral and ethical bonds,” she said, a deeply troubled look on her face. “Very tempting.”
Desh was unsure of just how to respond to this.
“I haven’t enhanced myself for some time now,” she continued softly.
“Afraid the pull will become too strong for you to resist?” said Desh
She nodded. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly in a humorless smile. “Sometimes I think of myself as Frodo in the Lord of The Rings. In my case the ring’s power is that of almost inconceivable creativity and intellect. But like Frodo’s burden it is easily accessible, right there around my neck at all times, exerting its magnetic pull. The temptation to use it, especially when I’m desperately in need of some insight, is almost irresistible.”
Desh considered. He had never really thought about the ring from the Tolkien trilogy as yet another manifestation of the old cliché regarding power, but of course it was. The ring didn’t turn its wearer evil; the power inherent in the ring did this. “Power corrupts,” he began, unable to stop himself from reciting the cliché Kira had avoided using. “Absolute power corrupts abso—”
Desh never finished his sentence. With a sound like a shotgun blast the door to the room exploded inward, propelled by vicious, simultaneous kicks expertly applied by two men on the other side.
14