Training microorganisms to travel between hosts was the easy part.
Getting them to work their way into position, waiting for messages that told the little buddies where to act when…well, that was the safety pin in the flypaper ointment remover.
Kathryn stood in front of the mirror, spinning on point, her skirt twirling in the air like a whirling dervish.
“What are you writing?”
“Our manifesto.”
“Better than the last?”
“Yes.”
She continued her dance practice, an imaginary partner held in her arms.
“You know, this would be a lot more fun if you joined me in the dance sphere.”
I looked up at the wall between us, a one-way mirror.
“Indeed. But it’s easier for me to concentrate here on my writing, sitting in a low-gravity field, than in the zero-gravity sphere.”
She sighed.
“I wish we’d’ve paid for the thought concentrator upgrade for you. Do you know how many of my friends have more fun dancing with their partners, who are working fulltime in their thoughts while preparing for the Inner Solar System Dance-off?”
“Hmm…let me see. A new dance sphere or a thought upgrade? Didn’t we agree the sphere was a better investment?”
“Sure. IF YOU EVER JOINED ME IN HERE!”
Her voice echoed, carried through the wall without need for a sound amplification system.
At first, we programmed microorganisms to attach “naturally,” using atomic interfaces like jigsaw puzzle pieces.
But we wanted a more advanced method of rewiring neural pathways, a means of largescale reconfiguration.
An amateur scientist, working in collaboration with several online amateurs, made the discovery that we bought before it hit the lowlevel interests of bored dilettantes looking for the latest gizmos to brag they had invented but hadn’t introduced to the public yet.
We should have seen it ourselves but, if you can’t outinvent ’em, then outbid the competition!
We can send a batch of microorganisms into a crowd, direct the little buddies toward specific people to “infect” and, like precise surgery, remotely move the microorganisms into place for later activation, completely avoiding overt, obvious, subliminal messaging that can be recorded and analysed by our enemies.
“Darling, is this another one of those manifestos that’s meant to divert the attention of our opponents?”
“Yes, dear. I figure if I can fill up the thoughts of the other dance teams, they won’t be able to concentrate on their dancing, despite their latest, upgraded versions of thought concentrators. There’s more than one way to skin a cat in freefall!”
treetrunkdings 