The Cat and the Bag

Sarif Building January 13, 2035 AD

There were few times in Jeff's life in which he felt stupid. In fact, he could count all the occasions on one hand. There was the time in 11th grade when he had let his hormones get the better of him and he had developed feelings for a girl. Luckily, Jeff had the self-control not to ever act on those feelings. Standing naked in the reactor core of a nuclear power plant would have diluted his genes less than mating with that lactose intolerant troglodyte. The second time, just after he graduated high school, Jeff, inspired by Francis Crick's discovery of DNA, had gotten high on acid. After the bookcase in his bedroom had turned into a Spanish speaking pick-up truck, Jeff had run crying to what he thought was his mother but turned out to be the refrigerator. The third time was when he decided to submit his calculations to the Guinness Book of World Records for most decimal points discovered after Pi, only to be told he was four digits short. The final time was when, after being depressed about the Pi incident, Jeff had converted to Hasidic Judaism for a week. It had only been four mistakes for the majority of his life, and now he had to add a fifth.

When his first seven subjects had been implanted with neural transceivers, they had developed feelings for Jeff that were borderline hero-worship. While Jeff loved being praised for being the smartest man on the planet (it wasn't bragging if it was true, then it was just a statement of a fact) what those seven had said to him was just weird enough that it left him concerned. In an effort to avoid that happening again, when he had implanted the twenty one man group, Jeff made sure he never interacted with the subjects. The only time he was even in the same room as one of them was when they were unconscious as he was implanting the transceivers. And yet those twenty one men developed the same feelings towards Jeff as the first group. As the old saying goes, familiarity breeds complacency and he eventually got used to it and stopped worrying about the weird feelings. It wasn't until he was in Florida and the implanted scientists started showing signs of the hero-worship behavior that Jeff thought about it again. He would have done something about it but they were making incredible strides in the field of nanotechnology and he was getting all sorts of ideas and data he could use to improve the neural transceivers that he didn't want to potentially alter the situation negatively.

About a year ago, Jeff's research had begun to plateau so he had found himself with more free time. He had decided to use it to attempt to figure out how the second group of soldiers developed feelings for him. Unfortunately, Jeff had made no actual progress beyond theories so he had decided to do something truly radical and simply ask the scientists how the second group knew who he was. Any good researcher knows telling test subjects you are watching their behavior can cause them to alter their behavior, but this was a unique situation.

The response Jeff had gotten was so obvious he wondered if he should flagellate himself as punishment. "Much like ourselves, they were told who you were and what you did for us."

"Told by whom? All the staff had been briefed not to mention me."

"By the other seven people on the neural network."

"...oh."

The subjects weren't just connected to the people they had been with when they were implanted; they could share knowledge with everyone that had a neural transceiver! It was one thing for the idiots that he worked with not to notice anything but how did he, the finest example of Homo sapiens genetic destiny, miss that? Jeff decided that he could hire a bouncer to hit him with a baseball bat at a later date, now he finally had the reason why the military should release the neural transceivers to the public.

For the past three years Jeff had been trying to get the neural transceivers declassified but every single person that he had talked to had told Jeff the same basic thing: while the neural transceivers would no doubt cause a drastic increases in American technology and efficiency, thereby stimulating the not-so-great economy, there was too big a danger of the transceivers falling into the wrong hands. By this point, over 5000 people had been implanted, most were secret commando type soldiers but there was also a sizable number of scientists (most of which weren't worthy of the job title until after they had gotten the transceivers). More importantly, since they were all linked that meant, regardless of clearance level or whether they were still in the military, there was a lot of top secret information in the heads of people that weren't supposed to know it. And yet, in the twelve years since Jeff created the transceivers, there had never been any information leaks. Was it because everyone on the network was just a trustworthy person or was it because if any of them thought about selling secret information that everyone else on the network would immediately know about it? If it was the latter (and Jeff suspected that it was) then the military had no excuse not to release the transceivers, they were already self-monitoring themselves. Jeff had no doubt that he would get chewed out once he explained why it was no big deal to release the neural transceivers on the market. They were his creations and he made a rather large mistake overseeing the project but other than the prospect of getting yelled at by people that could barely tie their own shoes, things looked good.

Jeff decided he would need to talk with someone who had a transceiver to get a better understanding of what motivated them and how they dealt with the whole mind-connected-to-every-other-mind-on-the-network thing. It was not a long walk through the Sarif Building to locate an implantee, their ability to share knowledge made them perfect security guards so the military "encouraged" teams guarding important installations to drink the nanite cocktail. That was another thing Jeff was impressed with: the progress the nanite development team had made. Originally, the nanobots had to be injected directly into the bloodstream and it would take two weeks for a neural transceiver to grow in the subject's brain (along with daily injections of the necessary materials the nanties would need to assemble the transceiver). Now, the nanomachines could be orally ingested and would safely build a transceiver in just over a day, taking all the construction materials safely from the body's natural deposits. Jeff's thoughts came to a halt as he saw a security guard.

"You there...er...guard! I have some questions I desire answered."

The exceedingly tall guard turned to face Jeff with an ever so slight smile on his face (had the military started a human-giraffe crossbreeding program or something?). "Of course Dr Borg. We will assist you in any way possible."

"Good. I recently had a conversation with one of the nanite scientists and she told me that everyone with a neural transceiver is connected and you allshare each other's thoughts...though if what she said was true then you already know what I'm telling you."

"You are correct Dr. Borg."

"So that means you know the details of all the secret missions that were undertaken by some members of the neural network even though you aren't supposed to be aware that they even occurred."

"They never did occur Dr Borg. But if they had happened, then yes, we would all be aware of them." The security guard's expression did not change even slightly as he spoke. Jeff was suddenly glad that he had turned down the invitation to play poker with some of the implanted scientists last week.

"And you're not at all concerned that the government might want to silence you because of what you know?" Jeff asked, barely managing to keep any emotions out of his voice.

"Such a possibility does exist, but to do so would hurt the government more than it would help."

"How do you figure? Don't you remember when the writ of habeas corpuswas temporally suspended 4 years ago after the domestic terrorist attacks? How many people disappeared? Actually, you know the answer to that since some of you helped to do it! Our government stopped caring about the people years ago, now it just cares about existing. If they think you're a danger, why wouldn't they get rid of you?" This time Jeff couldn't keep his emotions under control this time and he wasn't sure why. He didn't care about the government, he knew he was too valuable to ever eliminate so what was bugging him? Was he worried that the neural transceivers would all get decommissioned? Yea, that must be it. He was worried about his legacy.

The guard answered Jeff's questions without a hint of concern, still smirking. "The neural network is not as smart as it is simply because we can almost instantaneously share knowledge. It is also because of our own ability to redistribute thoughts for rapid calculations when rest is required."

"...you're saying that when a science team is asleep and not thinking that, say, a group of security guards picks up the thought process right where the other team left off?"

"That is correct Dr. Borg." The guard paused and his smile disappeared and his face went utterly blank. "If the government sought to protect its secrets by killing us it would only limit its ability to gain new secrets. Paranoia from government officials may eventually lead to our demise, but there is not much we can do about it. We are what we are."

"That is a rather...consigned attitude to take. You would roll over and die so easily?"

"They could kill our bodies Dr. Borg. Our minds will survive so long as the neural network exists, and we've already proven how effective the transceivers are for research so there is an incredibly low probability that the government would ever completely eliminate them from science teams."

"You guys are immortal?"

The guard's knowing smile returned. "Using the vernacular definition, that word does describe our situation."

Jeff took a moment to reflect on that particular tidbit of information. People with neural transceivers gained mental immortality so long as there was sufficient hardware to support them. Jeff knew he was a smart man, but he didn't realize he was that smart. Without trying, or even intending to, he had solved one of mankind's oldest dilemmas: death. Such a realization would make any other person on the planet an arrogant prick, vastly overestimating their own intelligence until they bit off more than they could chew. Luckily, Jeff already knew he was so smart that he made Leonardo Da Vinci look like an inbreed farmhand so there wasn't any danger of that.

Seeing as how well asking the scientists for advice about the neural transceivers had gone, Jeff decided to do it again and simply ask about what was bothering him. "Alright, I have one more question. If neural transceiver plans were leaked to another government, could they hack into the network and steal our research?"

The guard actually laughed at the question. It wasn't quite a deep belly laugh, but it was more than the light chuckle implantees usual did. "No, we would not allow it."

"I thank you for your answers. This will help me immensely." With that Jeff turned and started walking back to his office.

Washington DC January 16, 2035 AD

Nikki Slawson did not understand how General Valentine was still married. He complained about his wife all the time, he talked about how he would love for either one of them to kick the bucket so that he would finally have some quiet time, he thought up all sorts of excuses to avoid her. Slawson was pretty sure the only reason he hadn't retired was because that would mean he would be stuck at home. This job was Valentine's excuse to avoid his wife, though at this point it could barely be called a job. Slawson pretty much did his entire job for him; all he did was provide his signature. She enjoyed it most of the time but today was not one of those days because she was currently stuck in a video conference with the most arrogant bastard on the planet.

"Look you self-conceited egghead, I don't care how important you think you are, General Valetine is a busy man so unless you can convince me that what you have to tell him can't wait until he reads the report you submitted, he ain't hearing about it!" Slawson was almost shouting at the screen that displayed Dr. Borg in his office in Florida.

"You are a glorified secretary drunk with power, stop acting as though you guard the gates of Valhalla and tell Valentine I have vital information concerning the Herpes Initiative!" Slawson took a small bit of satisfaction in the fact that he appeared equally frustrated with her.

If Slawson wasn't so frustrated with Dr. Borg, she would have smirked. Valentine didn't know a damn thing about the Herpes Initiative. Borg didn't want to tell her everything because he didn't think she had clearance when in truth she had been the one responding to all of his email and reports. Why the possibility of releasing the neural transceivers to the public had been codenamed Herpes Initiative she would never know, but regardless she felt it would be a bad idea since the scientists implanted with the transceivers had largely been responsible for the majority of all the technological breakthroughs in military research and once the transceivers went public, it was only a matter of time until Russia or China got a hold of them.

"If it's that vital, you can tell it to me and I will tell the General, otherwise wait until he reads your report." Slawson had meant to read the report as soon as Borg had sent it in, but there had been an unsuccessful terrorist attack on the Pentagon the same day so everyone had been evacuated and questioned. But having set a precedent of always responding to Borg right away had caused him to call in worried, and after having listening to him insult her for the past half hour, Slawson was content to sit on the report for a week before reading it.

It was at that point that someone knocked on the door to Borg's office. Borg's only response was to loudly shout "Got fornicate with yourself! I'm in the middle of a call!"

But whoever had knocked didn't leave, instead Slawson saw the door open and a man entered the office. Judging from his clothing, Slawson guessed the man was a security guard. She was surprised to notice that when Borg spun his chair around he did not launch into a rant telling the man to leave, if anything his body language indicated that Borg was much more at ease now. The guard came over and placed his hand over the microphone and began talked to Borg. Slawson didn't know what the man was saying but she watched as the expression on Borg's face went from angry to surprised, to annoyed, back to angry, and finally he just looked resigned.

Borg waved the guard away from his desk. As the guard removed his hand from the microphone Slawson heard Borg mutter "Fine, I'll try it your way." With that he turned his attention from the guard back to Slawson, cleared his throat and started talking in a clearly forced tone. "Ms Slawson, I...apologize for my behavior. I...I shouldn't assume that my project is the most important project General Valentine oversees, even if it should be." Slawson noticed the last part was spoken rapidly as if Borg couldn't resist blowing his own horn when given the opportunity.

"Also...I would like to apologize for saying you only got your job because of your ability to cover up your bad breath and knee problems. I shouldn't have pointed it out." That barely qualified as an apology but Slawson got the feeling that it was the best she would get.

Realizing that she finally had an excuse to end this video call, Slawson said, "Thank you Dr Borg. He is very busy but I shall make sure your report is the first one General Valentine reads when he comes in tomorrow."

Slawson could tell from the strained look on his face that this was taking a lot of effort on Borg's part. "...Thank you Ms Slawson. I look forward to hearing from the General."

Sarif Building January 16, 2035 AD

"Well, that was certainly a surprise. Your advice worked." Jeff said as he spun his chair around to look at the security guard in his office.

"We have knowledge of social cues and generally accepted behavior from over 5000 people, it would have been more surprising if we had been wrong."

"Yes, I suppose the various members of the neural network that had barely moved past the tribal stage in their evolutionary societal development would have excellent behavioral analysis skills. It's what their brains are geared towards: find mate, kill rival, grunt with fellow males."

Jeff noticed that the guard's face didn't so much as twitch at the insult. "Dr. Borg, we are curious about the Herpes Initiative. It was important enough that you shouted so loudly and for so long that it required our intervention."

"Considering I just spent the last half hour arguing about clearance levels, I don't feel like doing it again so I'm just gonna go ahead and tell you even though I probably shouldn't. The Herpes Initiative is what I've been calling my attempts to get the neural transceiver designs declassified and released for public use."

While people who got implanted could still show emotion, they generally did not do so. Borg guessed it had to do with having their brains directly connected to other people. It's probably rather hard to get mad when you can hear the thoughts of eight other people, all of whom are incredibly bored. At most, people with implants would smirk or show a slight frown so Jeff was surprised to see the security guard's face change to a genuine look of surprise as the man asked, "Really? What progress have you made?"

"I've been shut down every single time. But thanks to the conversation I had with...one of you guys about how you can all be trusted with secret information, I think I'm making progress."

"That is excellent news Dr. Borg! Without being limited by the concerns and distrust of the military, many more people could be brought into the neural network." The guard's voice took on a hushed tone as he almost whispered, "We could achieve a technological singularity."

The guard's comment took Jeff by surprise. Certainly, there were some negative feelings towards people who got implanted with transceivers. They were accused of giving up their individuality, their humanity. Their lack of any strong emotions was another thing that caused many normal people to avoid implantees. But by the same token, it was undeniable that people with neural transceivers produced results. One would think the military, of all organizations, would be more concerned with results than anything else. Was there really that much antagonism towards implantees? Eh, it wouldn't really matter once they got released. Once companies started using implanted researchers for their products, everyone would quickly adjust to the odd behaviors.

Sarif Building February 5, 2037 AD

While Jeff always acted in a logical, rational way, he learned long ago that the rest of the human race was often driven by chemically-induced states of mind that an uninformed scientist would refer to as 'emotions'. As such, most of them were quite hard to predict because they acted in ways that were just plain stupid. Any sufficiently evolved creature should be able to weigh the risks and rewards in a situation and make a smart decision. Emotions should matter not, results were what were important. It was this failure to understand how the majority of people would react to a situation that had led to Jeff's current predicament.

Just over a year ago, Jeff had finally been told that the military was declassifying the neural transceiver designs and would be putting the construction rights up for auction. First off, auction? When the American government developed the Global Positioning System for the military, it became available for civilian use once the technology could support it. They didn't sell to raise money. Second, selling it meant it was limited to what one company decided to do with it. That was severely hindering the transceivers potential for societal change. When NASA developed advanced water filtration technology, other companies were free to make use of it. Third, he still had no idea what company had ended up with the rights. Apparently, part of the purchase deal was a secrecy clause. The neural transceivers were his babies, and he hadn't even been allowed to know who now had control of their creation. Fourth, an order had come from someone high up in the command chain (probably General Valentine, Jeff did not understand how the man could be so articulate and informed on paper and yet completely clueless in person) that Jeff was to be investigated. He didn't know what they MP's were looking for or why, and they weren't particularly inclined to fill him in either.

It wasn't until two minutes ago when Jeff had stormed into his boss's office and demanded answers that he finally had something resembling an explanation. Seemed Jeff had been under suspicion of leaking the neural transceiver blueprints to whatever company bought them prior to the actual purchase. While no evidence had been turned up, someone had still decided that Jeff's contract with the military would not be renewed once it came to an end in December.

Jeff felt that his boss (the man resembled a young William Shatner, minus all the charm) was taking too much delight in this whole discussion. It was probably a petty attempt at getting back at Jeff for always pointing out the man's numerous shortcomings. Still, Jeff had to give the man credit. He was doling out information at a trickle pace, clearing enjoying know something that Jeff didn't (it was a once in a life time opportunity after all, might as well let the man have his moment).

"So you see Jeff, in light of the circumstances, we feel that you could be a security risk and will not be keeping you on come new year." The man's smile was as oily as a leaking car engine.

"That is perfectly understandable, sir. Let me just say that you made an excellent steward for my work. You would do your job's ancestors proud, even if you would have been better off as the warded as opposed to the warder back then. Regardless, it will be no great lose, perhaps I shall seek a job with whatever company bought the patents to my creations." Jeff made sure to speak rapidly. It was incredibly unlikely that the man studied Middle English so Jeff doubted he would realize the insult that had just been delivered, but there was no reason to give the man's minuscule brain time to figure it out in the case that he was a scholar of a dead language, however small a chance that was.

"You're saying you don't already have a job with them? You seriously expect me to believe that Jeff?" The Shatner look-a-like narrowed his eyes.

Whatever-his-name's reaction surprised Jeff. "Why would I already have a job with them? Until today I had a job here. Plus, seeing as how I don't actually know who they are yet, its rather hard for me to have already sent them my resume."

"I know you think I'm an idiot Jeff; you made that abundantly clear ever since you were transferred here, but even I'm not that stupid. The company's named after you, subtle it ain't."

Jeff leaned back in the chair and slowly raised an eyebrow at his boss. "You know the name of the company? Isn't that above your clearance level? And don't you record all conversation that go on in your office 'just in case'? Should I contact your superior officer and tell him to request the tapes?"

The slick used car-salesman behind the desk immediately became a gambler about to lose his kneecaps to a loanshark. "Uh...well...I don't but well you see I happened to overhear some of the other officers talking. They ah mentioned that the company was called the Borg Collective. That was why you were under investigation. I uh realize you're not the only one with that last name, but come on that's an awfully big coincidence."

"It's not a coincidence, you're just not aware of the law of large numbers. As for the name itself...why Collective? Why not Borg Inc. or Borg Co.?" Jeff couldn't help lecturing his boss and wondering aloud. Despite what he had said, Jeff did find it unusual that Borg Collective was the name of the company that had bought the rights to the neural transceivers. And it still didn't answer why they had been allowed to buy them in the first place. They should have just been released into the public domain. "I imagine they chose Collective because all, or at least part of, the company's stock is owned by the employees and if that's that case, how did they afford to purchase the blueprints to my transceivers? Collectives are not known for being efficient."

Jeff continued talking to himself as he got up from his chair and walked out of the office, so lost in thought he didn't even notice when his boss nervously told him goodbye. Part of him was angry at this mysterious company for getting him fired, despite the many morons Jeff was forced to work with he truly enjoyed working for the Army. On the other hand, locating the Collective and getting a job there sounded like just the puzzle his brain needed. His neural transceiver research had tapered off about three years ago, he just couldn't seem to make any more major improvements to them so by this point he was ready to move onto a new project. Jeff started the long trek down the hallway towards his office. As he passed by one of the various security guards while still muttering to himself about the Borg Collective, the woman caught Jeff by the arm.

"Dr. Borg, excuse our interrupting, but did you just mention the Collective?" The guard almost sounded worried. That was an emotion Jeff wasn't sure he had ever heard in the voice of someone who had been implanted.

"I did. Seems that the Collective is responsible for my termination in the Army. I figured since they now control my neural transceivers that I might apply for a job with them. They are most likely a biotech firm of some kind so I will be quite qualified for whatever position I end up getting." Some people might consider it premature to assume they would get a job that they haven't even applied for yet, those people were under-qualified and would never succeed.

Jeff noticed that the guard did not seem to calm down at his statement. This was turning out to be a most unusual day. "Dr. Borg, could we speak to you in your office, please?"

"Very well, I was headed there anyway." As Jeff and the guard began walked toward his office he noticed she had completely calmed down. The other people on the network must have talked all the emotions out of her. Actually, was there any discussion that went on in the network? It was a near instantaneous transfer of knowledge and memories. Was inner dialogue even necessary? Something to ponder on a rainy weekend.

Jeff and the guard entered his office. She sat down in one of the chairs by the door while he walked behind his desk to locate his cigarettes. The Sarif Building, unlike the Skynet Base, allowed people to smoke indoors. Jeff immensely enjoyed that particular difference between the two locations. He did miss Sarah though, she was a far better boss than the annoyed man who's office he had just come from. As Jeff sat down behind his desk and lit up his cigarette (the last one in the pack, he would need to stop for some on the way home tonight) the guard said, "Dr Borg, there is something you should know about the Collective."

After slowly exhaling the smoke, Jeff asked "And what might that be?"

"We are the Collective."

"...OK, I've gotten used to how all you implantees don't refer to yourselves in the singular but this is one instance where I really wish you would. When you say "we" who exactly are you referring to?"

"Everyone on the neural network."

Jeff leaned forward in his chair and rested his arms on his desk, lightly puffing on his cigarette. "Everyone? Allof you are the Collective? Care to explain how this whole situation arose or should I extrapolate based on what I've been told so far?"

"We will explain Dr. Borg. Two years ago you told us of your attempts to get the neural transceiver plans declassified. We concluded that it was unlikely that the government would ever willing release the blueprints, regardless of what you said. We decided to make them an offer: sell us the rights and we would create a company to oversee the distribution of the transceivers. We also added the addendum that it was unlikely we would wish to continue our employment under the United States Army leadership if our offer was refused. We believe that that was what caused your superiors to suspect your involvement in the whole situation."

"Because it was a situation that brilliantly had them by that balls so that they couldn't refuse?"

"Because of the utter lack of diplomacy we used. We stopped just short of calling our superiors Arsenic Sulfide."

Jeff leaned back in his chair and laughed at that. "Man, I don't think I've ever heard one of you make a joke. Alright alright, so why did you choose Borg Collective as a name? If the buffoons in charge didn't suspect me beforehand, they certainly would after hearing that."

The guard paused before speaking, almost as if she was embarrassed. "We wished to pay homage to our creator so we thought to name the company after you. We decided on Collective because of the neural network. We truly are a Collective Dr. Borg. We will all run the company to ensure that the network grows and we all prosper."

Jeff wasn't sure what emotion he should be feeling. Should he be angry that all this was going on behind his back? Should he be annoyed that despite all his efforts the only reason the Army agreed to release the neural transceivers was because they were threatened with a mass walk-out? Should he be happy that the transceiver rights were in the control of people who worshiped his every action? Jeff decided to go with a mix of emotions. "I don't recall ever implanting a neural transceiver in a hippy. Running the Collective like a Karl Marx wet dream is all well and good, but how does any of this affect me? Since I'm not implanted I don't see myself capable of working with you all on projects."

"You could work with us Dr. Borg; you are almost solely responsible for all the improvements made to the neural transceivers since their creation. You would be a valuable asset."

Jeff sneered. He didn't mind flattery as long as it was warranted (and it almost always was) but this was one instance when he felt he did not deserve the praise he was getting. "Please. I was responsible for many of the improvements early on but I haven't done anything significant in three years. That's why I spent so much time on the Herpes Initiative, which apparently was a waste of time since you guys handled it for me."

"Very well, what if we brought you on as a public liaison for us?"

Jeff almost laughed at that. While he was a brilliant scientist he was also aware that most people found him...hard to deal with. The idea that he would be a good liaison for anything was ridiculous. "What could you possibly need me for?"

"You are not implanted with a neural transceiver Dr. Borg. You will be useful for showing that we are not dangerous. We already have problems within the military concerning whether or not we can be trusted. It's only logical that those fears will be magnified when we enter the public awareness."

"You know what, why not? Once my tenure with the Army is over, I'll be glad to come work for the Collective." Jeff wasn't sure why he agreed. It might have been curiosity over doing something totally different from research and development, a desire to remain involved with his neural transceiver project, or maybe he found it enjoyable to be around implantees (though that last one was a very small possibility).

Author's Note: For those that didn't get the steward insult: that word comes from the term "styward" which was the guy the guarded the pig stye so Jeff called his boss a pig. Also, if you didn't get the Arsenic Sulfide joke: on the periodic table the symbol of arsenic is "As" and the symbol for Sulfer is "S"