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Book 1 - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2019-12-28 16:34:48 +0000 UTCOzark Mountains
The Spaceship
“OK, the drones are ready, come to the control room so we can get this show on the road,” Max said when Michael came to the ship the next morning. The front wall of the bridge turned into one giant holo-screen with the combined topographical map of the surrounding terrain in the central position, and four separate video feeds from the drones placed all around it.
“I modified them to have extended range and flight time, they can now stay in the air for a few days. There is a miniaturized metal detector combined with a ground-penetrating radar mounted on their frames, and it has been calibrated to differentiate gold from other metals.”
Michael could see drones following the stream up the mountain. Some places showed small pockets of yellow, only in trace amounts, unfortunately. A lot less in the familiar spots, where his grandfather had already panned for it in the past.
The drones slowly followed the watercourse up the mountain, four of them taking multiple passes over areas that were more promising. There was far more gold in the higher, harder to reach elevations. And gold, being a very heavy metal, tended to fill all those nooks and crannies, where the stream made deeper spots at its bottom. The amount that actually washed down towards the valley was much smaller than what accumulated higher up.
Michael wondered for a moment why his grandfather never made a serious effort to pan higher up the mountain, but then remembered that the old man never took more than he needed, for him that gold stream was like a bank vault.
After an hour, two drones started circling one position where the yellow color was predominant in the stream, and the transmitted image of the other two, who went to check upstream, showed that there was no more gold in the water above that spot.
“Max, give me a close-up on that place,” Michael excitedly said.
Sparkling in the water, gold mixed with white quartz was reflecting the bright morning sun onto surrounding stone formations. A big grin plastered on his face; his only pang of sorrow was that his grandfather never got a chance to see it. This was the place where all the gold his grandfather panned originated, a mother lode.
The biggest problem Michael saw was that all those gold deposits were in an inaccessible location. High sharp cliffs were on both sides of the stream, and there was no way he could ever get to it without some professional climbing equipment; even then, it would be quite dangerous. That was the reason this particular deposit was never found.
Luckily, he didn't have to do a thing, thanks to Max who had planned the entire mining operation in advance. The drones would carry more rugged, mining nanites, to the site and they would extract the gold directly from the quartz that surrounded it. Then, the drones would carry the gold to the ship. It reminded him of playing one of those strategic simulations video games where everything was done remotely, and the object was to collect as many resources as possible to create additional structures. Which wasn't so far-fetched from what they needed to do.
“How fast can we get to it?” He asked after Max explained the extraction process to him.
“We could begin collecting it immediately, that box of old processors you brought helped immensely. The problem is that some of the necessary materials I need for mining nanites are found only in trace amounts. The drones’ modifications and the first batch of mining nanites used most of it up. You need to get us more stock material to speed up the entire operation.”
“Can we order the necessary materials online?
“We could, though rare refined metals are quite expensive, and it would take time for our orders to arrive. There is a downside to ordering precious and rare metals in quantities we need—it will be noticed. We agreed that this venture needs to be as low-key as possible, and that would be a big red flag for some regulatory agencies. Buying directly from that E-waste recycling plant is still our best option as nobody really cares about it to ask questions.”
“Okay, I’ll try to make a deal; let’s see how that goes.”
***
E-waste Recycling Plant
The first thing Michael noticed, driving close to the recycling plant, were big piles of old computers and broken electronics lying around on the ground. The plant was located some distance outside the town and was bigger than what he assumed when he first passed by it. What worried him was a strange absence of sound coming from the plant; it was a workday, but it seemed that there were no workers inside. He parked in front of the main gate and pressed a small intercom button on the side, hoping that someone would answer.
After a few minutes, just as Michael was thinking that there was no one on the premises, a very old man exited a small trailer parked beside the main building.
Years have taken their toll on him; he walked slowly as if he was in pain. It took him some time to arrive at the front gate.
“How can I help you, young man?” He asked when he came closer to Michael.
“Well sir, I need to buy a truck full of electronic scrap, old computer processors and motherboards preferably, I hope you can help me.”
The old man squinted while looking at him and came a bit closer.
“You are Mike, aren't you? John's grandson,” he said after studying Michael's face for a few seconds.
Michael's eyebrows rose higher, this was the first time someone recognized him; the young boy who left this area had little in common with the man he had become.
“Yes sir, I am, did you know my grandfather?”
“Oh yeah, John and I go way back, he was quite the character.” He answered smiling at the fond memory. “The last time I saw you were at his funeral, it's been a while, but my memory still works fine, even if the rest of the body is a bit rusty.” He continued, unlocking the gate.
“Well, come in, I have a few cold beers in the fridge and it's an awfully hot day.”
Over the cold drinks, the old man told Michael his life story. His name was David, or Dave for short and he really just wanted someone to talk to. He was alone since his wife died years ago and this E-waste recycling plant was all he had… or didn’t, if the bank was to be asked.
He started it decades ago when business was booming, reasoning that with people always replacing their electronic gadgets for newer models, he could make decent money with recycling all that electronic trash. For a long time business was good, but then everything changed. US companies started sending their e-waste to Ghana in Africa. It was far cheaper transporting it overseas than disposing of it in the United States, where there are many safety regulations that needed to be followed, and fees they really didn't want to pay. Ghana, on the other hand, didn't have any, or if they did, nobody really cared. Why would they when a fist full of Dollars could grease many palms. Instead of closing the plant, Dave kept at it, thinking that things would turn around; they did not and his situation progressed from bad to worse.
Before he knew it, he got into big debts. Dave even sold his house and all of the recycling machinery; he would’ve sold the plant too, but nobody was buying. He was in so much debt that he could not even sell what he had on the premises because the bank and lawyers eventually took it. Very soon, it would go to auction to be sold for scrap to pay all outstanding bills. He shouldn't even be here, but there was nowhere else for him to go. At one point, while telling his life story, tears started running down Dave's face.
It was a heartbreaking sight, a once proud man broken by the world. Michael could see that Dave's body was in a rough shape, his face gave away in how much physical pain he was, with swollen joints indicating an advanced stage of arthritis.
“Max, are you there?” he asked through his implant.
“Yes, I’m relaying connection through the Internet and cell towers. You want to help him, don’t you?”
“I do, is there a way to transfer some of my medical nanites to him?”
“He doesn’t have a CEI so it is going to be rudimentary at best. I can control them remotely, but it will be much slower.”
“Let’s do it, what do you need me to do?”
“You need to touch his skin with your right hand. I will concentrate the nanites for the transfer to the surface of your palm. Shake his hand for a few seconds when you are leaving and it will be done.”
“Okay Max, thanks,” Michael replied internally.
The old man grew silent, looking through a small trailer’s window, with a detached look of hopelessness. Michael decided to run with the idea he got during their conversation.
“Dave, I want to make you a proposition. I came into some money recently, quite a lot actually; I will be willing to buy this plant from the bank and settle all your debts. Now, I have some other obligations that require me to take long trips so I can’t be around here much. Would you be willing to stay here and run it for me?”
Dave’s face showed a mix of shock and disbelief. His shaking hand moved toward his chin, but then he paused and looked at Michael.
“Mike, I appreciate the offer, I really do. But you realize that there is no way to make any money out of this place; the plant is like a bottomless pit and you will be throwing your money away.”
The fact that he didn’t immediately jump on the deal made Michael even more confident in his decision, he knew that most people wouldn’t even think twice.
“Yes, I’m sure, I am in possession of some new technologies that would make the purchase profitable to me,” he answered, hoping that the nanites gold mining would prove lucrative. If it wasn't, his mouth had just written a check that his ass couldn't cash.
The old man sat there for a while, staring through a dirty trailer window. Michael could tell the exact moment Dave made a decision, his face looked a little less troubled, and his backbone a little straighter.
He nodded and smiled, offering his hand for Michael to shake. “If you are sure, then yes! It would mean everything to me, Mike… thank you.”
Before Michael left, Dave insisted to fill up his truck with the best electronic scrap they could gather, and wouldn't even take any money for it, no matter how much Michael insisted. They agreed to meet in a week to talk about the legalities of the recycling plant purchase.
Taking all that scrap wasn't exactly legal, the bank would undoubtedly disapprove, but they couldn't object to something they didn't know about. Besides, neither Dave nor he had any intention of telling them.
***
“Do you think we can pull it off? Part of me feels like we are counting chickens before they are hatched. If we don't have enough money in time, there is no way to settle Dave's debt with the bank,” he asked Max while driving up to the cabin.
“We are already collecting a fair amount, and with all that material you are bringing, there will be a considerable increase in production. By my calculation, very soon, money will stop being a problem.”
He repeated the process from the day before, transferring boxes from his truck to the ship, and dumping it all into the small nano-factory.
“That is all of it,” Michael said after the last box had gone inside.
“It should be enough for building all the mining nanites we will need,” Max happily replied.
Michael had just finished washing his hands in the ship's bathroom when he noticed one drone hovering beside the AI’s hologram, on the ship’s bridge.
“Hold out your hand,” Max instructed.
The small cargo doors on the belly of the drone opened and a tiny gold bar fell into his hand.
“Drones already gathered more than that, but that is the first troy ounce of gold we collected,” the AI said, with a smug grin.
That little gold bar represented the foundation of the future Michael has envisioned. He rubbed it between his fingers, a tangible proof that his plan was getting off the ground.
“Thank you, Max,” he said after a few moments, and then looked at the hologram before him. “Are you monitoring Dave's condition?”
“Yes, his health is improving, but too slow for him to notice. You were just in time, aside from arthritis, his heart wouldn't last for very long. There is one other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” Max said with a slight, but noticeable hesitation.
“Michael… you do realize that nanites in your body constantly repair all damage?”
“Yes, you told me that before,” he answered, wondering where Max was going with this.
“Well, has it ever occurred to you that old age is a process in which information in your cells gets damaged, so they make errors during the cell division. But nanites in your body are constantly repairing yours, so… in a way, you are now immortal.”
There are certain moments in life when some new information hits you like a freight train out of the blue, for Michael this was one of them.
“Only substantial damage to your brain would quickly kill you, or trauma so extensive that nanites couldn't compensate. Everything else can be repaired, so… if you avoid those two, you could theoretically live forever.”
Michael was rooted to the spot, his mind in such turmoil, he had a problem with thinking clearly. The implications of Max’s words were so out there, impossible to take in. It did make a certain kind of sense, he guessed. If nanites were able to repair his body when it was practically shattered, then them being able to prolong life was a logical continuation of such advanced technology. He never thought about those microscopic robots directly repairing his very cells.
“Max… I'm tired and need sleep, I can’t think about that right now,” he said looking at the AI, who had a knowing look on his face.
He returned to his cabin, still clutching that little gold bar in his hand. Sleep only came after he managed to set his nanites into a sleep mode, and then increase the alcohol content in his blood with more than a few beers.
***
Ozark Mountains
The Cabin
Michael woke up with the first rays of the sun, and then stayed in his bed for a while, with only one thought running through his mind. I am immortal.
After making himself breakfast and a fresh cup of coffee, he sat in his usual chair on the porch.
“Max, if the technology to make one immortal was in the ship's bag of tricks, how come there are no immortal aliens running around?” He asked after taking the last sip of the dark brew.
“They probably died,” Max answered. “Being biologically immortal and unkillable are two entirely different things. As I said, while extensive injuries to your body could be repaired, if a bullet hit your brain, or if your injuries are past the threshold of nanites repair, you will be completely and irrevocably dead. You can drown, be electrocuted, decapitated, and many other things. The law of probability will eventually get the better of you; you get the benefit of not aging, but you still need to take care of yourself. It is not like you have magically turned into a superhero, just an enhanced human being.”
That was easier to take in since he didn't really like the idea of living forever; deep inside he felt there was something inhuman and cold about it.
“So… giving other people the same advantages would be relatively easy?”
There was a noticeable pause in Max’s answer.
“Yes… theoretically. For medical nanites to be fully operational you need a CEI to monitor and control them, or lacking one you would need me. Even now, I am controlling those you transferred to Dave by satellite connection, which takes considerable bandwidth. However, if I lose the connection, they would stop functioning, it is a safety precaution. I could remotely control medical nanites in a few more people, although that would strain my processes, a CEI is far better suited for it.”
Michael nodded and looked at the beautiful scenery spread before his eyes; the splendor of an idyllic green valley clashed with his gloomy thoughts.
“Max, if anyone found out about this, I would be the most hunted man on the planet. All other tech on the ship, no matter how valuable, is trivial to this one. Immortality is more dangerous than anything I can think of at the moment. In the past, worldwide wars have started over things that were insignificant in comparison.”
A cold shiver ran down Michael’s spine. He knew that from the beginning of history, man has always searched for the fountain of youth… and he had it.
“No matter what else, keep this under wraps, I'm not sure if we should even share it with those we recruit, It's simply an extremely volatile piece of information.”
“OK Michael, but you know that in time this too is going to come out, secrets like this are too slippery to hold on to.”
Michael closed his eyes and nodded. “I know, we are playing for time here, I hope there will be enough of it.”
Governments, criminals, rich and powerful would sell their own mothers down the river for a slice of eternal life. As long as they could reach him, he would not be safe. That solidified his resolve to get off this beautiful blue marble, far enough from their greedy hands.
And this technology could never fall into the general human population, that would cause… Armageddon. If people were now worried about overpopulation, water and food shortage, and demand for more space, the problems with nobody dying would soon be unimaginable. He didn't need to consult with Max to see the probable outcome of that scenario.
In space, longevity would be a great boon, a way to steadily increase the population. There was unlimited room for expansion out there. Here on earth... it would be like throwing water on an oil fire.
Michael took the rest of the day off, leaving Max to deal with the gold extraction. He fixed a few things around the house and chopped some wood for the winter. It felt good to use his strength for such mundane tasks, a certain meditative quality of menial repetitive action calmed his troubled mind.
***
Ozark Mountains
The Cabin
Michael was finishing his morning cup of coffee with a satisfied smile on his face, a few cords of wood were stacked close to the porch, a testament to yesterday's hard work. The day off was just what he needed, to slow down the hectic speed of the past few days.
“Hey, Max, where are we with gold extraction?”
“It's going better than I thought it would,” The AI answered. “Those additional mining nanites made from Dave’s scrap speeded up the process exponentially, and it helped a lot when they found a big pocket of almost pure gold a few feet underground.”
He was a little saddened for he didn't take that gold from the ground with his own hands, it was far more satisfying that way. Even so, they needed money fast, so technological extraction would have to do.
“How much gold did they managed to collect?”
“As of this morning, it is almost 5000 troy ounces,” Max proudly replied.
The sip of coffee he was taking went down the wrong pipe, and it took him a few minutes to stop coughing it up.
“How in the world did they find that much gold, and collected it!” He shouted, “They have only been at it for less than two days.”
“They don't take breaks, or sleep, and it went slowly at first, but that pocket contained almost 4000 troy ounces of easily accessible gold. Drones are making constant trips to and from, and it adds up,” Max said, pleased of his accomplishment.
“That… is… Jesus Christ, I don't think that gramps and I paned even a fraction of that in all those years.” Michael said, still having a hard time believing in the amount of the extracted gold.
“The nano-factory has already turned it into gold bullion, ready for transportation.”
Michael did a quick calculation on his CEI, “That is worth over… $6 million.” he said in an awed voice, part of him having a hard time believing that the mining nanites could manage to collect that amount of precious metal. Another calculation told him it weighed more than 340 pounds; not something to carry in a briefcase. He knew that transporting that much gold would be a challenge.
“First we need to find a way to sell it without bringing unwanted attention to ourselves. Powers that be would notice such amount if we go through legal channels, and I have no intention of paying taxes on it. Internal Revenue Service may strongly disagree with that; it has to be sold under the table.”
Not to mention that people tend to get a little crazy at the sight of the gold, and he wanted to preserve his grandfather’s legacy of keeping the mountain in pristine condition.
“I may have an idea how we can sell it,” Max said with a distinct hesitancy in his voice.
“Well… spill it.” Michael prompted, after another long pause.
“It would mean dealing with shady elements of society. I have been looking through some files in police databases, and there is a Russian who deals in gold,” Max replied. “The government suspects him, but they haven’t managed to pin him down. I could arrange a meeting with him, using the darknet to make contact. It is not the best option, but it is the fastest way to turn all that gold into cash.”
Michael knew that working with criminals was not a good idea, there was always a chance for things to go wrong, but they had limited choices right now. Weighing the pros and cons were foremost on his mind, but as they say, sometimes you need to choose the lesser of two evils.
“Set it up.”
