Wired

“Both,” said Smith.

 

“With respect to enhanced intellect—I don’t know,” said Desh, shrugging. His eyes narrowed in thought. “She’s an extraordinary scientist, that’s beyond dispute. And she weaved a very convincing scientific rationale around the concept. Autistic savants do exist and do demonstrate what one hundred billion neurons can do when wired slightly differently than normal. As farfetched as it is, she made optimizing her own brain seem possible, even reasonable, for someone with her talents.” He paused. “Is she innocent? That one is easier. Of course not. Other than claiming she was innocent, she didn’t provide a shred of evidence, as we’ve discussed.”

 

The corners of Smith’s mouth turned up in a knowing smile. “But she still got to you a little, didn’t she? Even without providing any evidence, you half wanted to believe her, didn’t you?”

 

“What I might have wanted to believe and what I actually do believe are two different things,” snapped Desh defensively.

 

“I’ve never met her,” said Smith. “But she’s brilliant and I’m told she has a way about her. She can suck you in, dazzle you with logic that seems irrefutable, and do it in a way that’s absolutely sincere. Not to mention that she has a wholesome, doe-eyed beauty that some men find hard to resist. You must have felt her pull.”

 

Desh frowned. “A little,” he admitted. “But I know what she is and my guard was up. She may have intended to provide evidence of her innocence. Maybe she would eventually have even tried to bribe me, but we’ll never know. Your men crashed the party and all she talked about was her ability to make herself smarter.” He paused and added sharply, “You can believe anything you want. That’s what happened. That’s all that happened.”

 

Smith was silent for several long moments as they continued hurtling down the dark highway. Traffic was still sparse but had begun picking up, ever so slightly, with the gradual approach of dawn. “I believe you,” he said at last. “I conducted a number of interrogations in a past life and I think you’re telling the truth. On the important things at any rate,” he added.

 

“Good,” said Desh. “So are you ready to take your turn in this little information exchange of ours?”

 

Smith considered. “All right,” he replied. “First of all, we believe Kira Miller really has found a way to turn herself into the ultimate savant. And our experts seem to agree that, properly organized, there’s almost no level of intelligence the one hundred billion neurons you spoke of can’t reach.”

 

“Do you have actual evidence of this optimization?”

 

“Yes. Most of it circumstantial, but enough that we’re convinced. What you say she told you fits right in with what we know. It’s interesting that she told you she gave herself this immeasurable IQ,” continued Smith, “but she didn’t say a word about how she applied this intelligence.” He eyed Desh meaningfully. “If you had supreme intellect, what problem would you tackle?”

 

Desh shook his head tiredly. “Look . . . Smith . . . usually I’m up for riddles and guessing games. Really. But I haven’t slept in almost twenty-four hours and it’s been a tough day, so why don’t you just tell me.”

 

“Immortality,” said Smith simply.

 

 

 

 

 

19

 

 

Desh sat in stunned silence, replaying the word in his head to be sure he had heard correctly. A flying insect slammed into the windshield like a tiny missile and became an instant smear. “Immortality,” he repeated finally, shaking his head dubiously. “Impossible.”

 

“Yeah, so is amping up your own IQ,” shot back Smith. “And no, she hasn’t achieved it. Yet. But it’s only a matter of time. She has managed to double the span of human life, though. Not immortality, but certainly good enough to win the high school science fair,” he added wryly.

 

“You’re sure about this?”

 

Smith nodded. “You can never be positive until the first person treated lives to be a hundred and sixty, but I understand the animal and early human evidence is pretty strong.”

 

“How does she do it?”

 

“Hell if I know. It takes an injection, repeated once a year. I have no idea what it does. All I know is that it slows aging to a crawl, so that a man of seventy will have all the physical characteristics and abilities of a man of thirty-five.”

 

“Remarkable,” said Desh in wonder.

 

Richards, Douglas E.'s books