Free After Mind by Spencer Wolf Page A

the mind’s counterpart instead, a death switch, if you will, a trigger. The hypothesis was, by activating that trigger, the person would enliven with a sense of imperative, a ‘live now’ mentality to enjoy life. But we observed the opposite effect. It depressed the hell out of the mice,” she said with a laugh.
    “It’s nice to see you have a sense of humor,” the host said.
    “I do,” she said. “The mice seemed tormented knowing death was imminent, even suicidal to get it over with. Dizziness, hallucination. And thankfully, DigiSci abandoned that line of research. But some of the early, most promising concepts were refined and repurposed into the development of the early VaXin series of sprays—” She stopped and squinted, put her hand to her forehead. “No. Actually, no. I’m mistaken.”
    “I don’t follow,” the host said. “Which sprays?”
    Robin put her hands down into her lap and lowered her head. She spoke again, but more reserved. “I agree there’s a definite fear of loss of control. A loss of control to government, to technology, to corporate intrusions. So, laws are passed to lessen the impact. One of which is all sims and chatbots must self-identify when initiating a session or are directly questioned.”
    A digital stamp appeared and rotated at the bottom right corner of the screen for the HACM Lab US at the University of Washington in Seattle, sister lab to the Human & Cognitive Machines lab, HACM Lab AU in Tasmania.
    “Snubbing that law only promotes further unease,” Robin said. “People like to know they’re not being interrogated and with whom their ideas are being shared. They like to think they have a choice, even though they might not.”
    “Understood,” the host said.
    “Reverend, you’ll appreciate this,” Daniel said. “My father gave me the name Daniel after the man who was called to interpret the dreams of the king.”
    “I do appreciate the reference,” the reverend said, “but who’s the king in your analogy?”
    “I don’t think I’ve met him yet,” Daniel said. “But you never know. Fate works in mysterious ways.”
    “Daniel, by way of introduction, you’re here tonight as an invited guest of Robin Blackwell, alumni of the university,” the host said.
    “Thank you. Robin was kind enough to invite me and my son as guests of your panel, thinking we might have a unique perspective to offer.”
    “Thanks to the hand of fate just a few years ago,” Robin said, “our paths crossed over our children. We met at a doctor’s appointment. If one of us wasn’t early or late, we might never have met.”
    “It was me. I was late,” Daniel said.
    “Congratulations,” the host said. “It looks like fate is the unanimous winner so far.”
    “No, just a minute,” Daniel said. “I think the most direct answer to your question on why you missed your plane is algorithms. It’s not because of what happened millions or thousands of years ago or even what we’ve learned in our lifetimes. It’s because the algorithms in our brain are processing far faster than we are even aware. All possible decisions are pre-calculated in the microseconds before your body responds, or you even know why you’ve made such a decision in the first place. Your brain decided on a 0 or a 1 before you even know why you picked a door on the left versus a door on the right. Understand the 0s and 1s of the brain, and you can play the mind like the keys of a piano. Tune an off key. Replay entire days. Reduce the spikes that are too painful to bear. So given the advantage of microsecond speed, I’d have to say fate is the winner. That is, according to my first attempt with the question.”
    “I’ve reviewed your bio,” the host said to Daniel. “You have no formal education. Bringing you here to this stage, Robin is the biggest success you’ve had to date, is she not?”
    “I am self-taught, yes,” Daniel said, “and you’re pretty transparent, you know? You’re mixing your