Free The ELI Event B007R5LTNS by Dave Gash Page A

one ways for the Net to collect and relay data relevant to drowning.
    “For example, most of us today have biofeedback chips implanted in our bodies—you have one, I have one—for security reasons, health monitoring, government identification, and so on. Statistically speaking, it is a near certainty that at this very moment, somewhere on earth, an individual carrying such a chip is drowning. The chip is sending that person’s physical reactions, a steady stream of panic responses, cardiac arrhythmia, respiratory failure, and brain wave functions directly to the Net, right now, up to and including the moment of death. Believe me, the Net knows how it feels to drown.”
    “Go on.”
    “If you are using this device and consciously think about drowning, all that information, all those feelings, all those physical responses, are not merely available to you, they are sent into you, become part of you, and can physically affect you. You can easily panic, go into cardiac arrest, stop breathing, and die, as surely as if you had actually drowned. This is just one possible scenario; there are of course countless others.
    “As I said, this device has no filters, no control over the information returned, no way to omit dangerous data. The only protection you have is your own mind. You must focus very clearly on what you want to find and rigorously block all other thoughts. Until I discover a way to categorize and filter the returned data, there is no other safeguard.
    “That is why the project, and my continued work on it, is unauthorized and quite secret. I will save you the necessity of lying to me by not asking how you knew about it in the first place.”
    Lokus ignored the last remark. “It does make sense, I suppose, but isn’t it just a theoretical argument? Surely no one has actually thought themselves to death while using your machine.”
    Rasel’s face remained impassive. “Let us just say,” he replied carefully, “that I have accumulated substantial empirical evidence that supports the theory. In any case, I strongly advise you not to risk it.”
    “Advice acknowledged,” Lokus replied, “and overruled. It is of the utmost importance that I track down that event. When can you hook me up?”
    Rasel sighed. “Right now, if you wish. Are you sure that you want to go through with this?”
    In reply, Lokus lay down on the gurney and placed the sensor helmet on his head, wincing as the tiny probes pricked his scalp. “Let’s get started.”
    “Very well,” said the Science Minister as he flipped switches and set dials on the machine’s front panel. “You are strong; you may survive. Try to clear your mind, concentrate only on your search target. It will help block out unwanted material. Ready?” he asked as he finished fastening the restraints.
    Lokus nodded; the helmet’s probes immediately made him wished he hadn’t. Rasel lowered the opaque visor over Lokus’s eyes and threw the last switch.
    At first Lokus felt nothing. He concentrated hard and let his mind play over the few facts he was certain of—Borok’s group, their naïvely altruistic agenda, their distaste for the government and its policies. He was starting to wonder if he was connected to the Net at all.
    Suddenly, information began coming in waves: biographical sketches of the dissident scientists, transcripts of speeches they had given, news reports of charities they supported, books they had read and written, schematics of equipment they had invented. Lokus was receiving far more information than he could absorb, all in a fraction of a second, but felt he already had the search going in the right direction.
    Encouraged, he broadened his thinking to include their secret society, their blatant disregard for authority, their discussions about time travel, their foolish ideas about changing history. Instantly the flood of information increased a thousand fold. Words, images, sounds streamed past his consciousness far too fast to comprehend.