skonen_blades

See Snowden.
See, Snowden, see.
Look, Snowden, look.
Leak, Snowden, leak.
See NSA
Snoop, NSA, snoop.
Tap, NSA, tap.
See Snowden leak NSA.
See NSA cry
See Snowden run.
Run, Snowden, run!
See NSA get angry.
Hunt, NSA, hunt.
See America.
Look, America, Look!
Read, America, read!
Read 1984.
Read Brave New World.
Read Fahrenheit 451.
Where’s Snowden?
Snowden is with Waldo.
Look, NSA, look.
Hide, Snowden, hide.

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I should have stayed in hardware.

When you’re working on a tank or a missile array, you might feel bad if the project is considered a dead end and shut down but you wouldn’t feel guilty. You wouldn’t feel like a traitor.

You wouldn’t feel like a murderer.

I’m a geneticist in charge of a project designed to create a batch of superhumans under American control. We’ve learned a tremendous amount from the twelve brave souls who were picked from various armed forces and three civilian organizations.

We’ve learned not to try to augment people past a certain age. The implants cost too much to maintain.

We’ve learned that taking people with a previous experience of the outside world makes them hard to control.

We’ve learned that we’d be better off augmenting embryos with better biotech and raising them under controlled circumstances.

This project is to be terminated.

They’re about to sent on a high priority mission by me to a bunker in the middle of a desert. Inside that bunker is a bomb. It will detonate and kill all twelve of them.

I am about to brief them over dinner. I’ll tell them about a threat to national security lurking in that bunker. I’ll say that they have to get in close to steal it back. I’ll say that the defenses are sneaky and not to trust their eyes.

I am about to lie to them.

They trust me because I’ve been with them since the beginning of their first treatments and I have always told them the truth.

I will be able to do this but I’ll feel it for the rest of my life.

I’m going to request a transfer back to hardware.

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I hate my children.

They are the culmination of a lifetime of hard labour. I started out as a bright-eyed 18-year-old genius picked by the government for my brilliance. I’m 68 now. Fifty years. It all gets a little blurry. My entire life has been lived in a series of government installation sub-basements, bunkers, test sites and laboratories. I’m looking at my children now and thinking back over the history of their creation.

The setbacks. The breakthroughs.

There are seventeen women and fifteen men. They are all nearly nine feet tall and built like gods. They should walk like they’re heavy but they don’t. They walk like gymnasts. To even look at them fills me with self-hatred. I’m a biological mess compared to the perfection we’ve bred into them. I have liver spots, hair loss, laboured breathing, scoliosis, psoriasis, etc, etc. It’s a mundane collection of biological infirmities that only confirm the fact that I’m human. I’m an aging watery bag of recessive traits.

These god-like children I’m looking at will never know these failures of creation.

In months they will be even smarter than me once we start the brainplants.

Parents are supposed to be proud of their children’s achievements. Parents are supposed to glow with an intense inner joy when their children succeed. I look back on the innocence of the scientist I used to be at the beginning of this, my life’s work, and I shake my head.

All I feel now is jealousy and a bitter, bitter resentment.

They will be used as soldiers. They will outthink their superiors. They will find a way to bypass the fail-safes. They will hide. They will breed. They will take over. It’s as clear as my brilliance. By the end of this century, they will run the earth. All that remains to be seen is if they’ll do it covertly or overtly. Will they keep us around? I think that in the new era of gods that they will bring, there will be no place for mere humans. We pressed fast forward on evolution.

All the military can see is a new weapon. I promised perfection and I delivered. I am happy I will die before they dominate.

My children are the future and I hate them.

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