Tonight the effect goes flawlessly.
Well, at least one of us is in top form.
When you’ve done as many shows as I have, you can tell when things are clicking and when they aren’t. Tonight it feels like a night of work for me instead of a show that’s cruising along on all cylinders. I’m not focused like I need to be, and during one escape with a spinning blade I almost don’t make it out of the handcuffs in time.
It makes the effect more dramatic, and I’m guessing that the audience has no idea how close I am to losing my fingers, but Xavier does, and after the effect he corners me backstage.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re thinking about Emilio, aren’t you?”
“Trying not to.”
“Well, stop trying and succeed. You need to be present, in the moment.”
I know this, of course. “Yeah.”
“Don’t give me a mess to clean up here tonight, bro.”
“I won’t. Thanks for the reminder.”
“And this is where we’re doing research on self-replicating nanobots.” Akio Takahashi swept the door open dramatically, and Undersecretary Williamson stepped into the room.
“So the reverse engineering of the prions is going well?”
So, she had been reading the reports.
“Yes. It’s coming along fine.”
Prions are proteins that self-replicate. By reverse engineering them, Plyotech’s researchers should theoretically be able to create nanobots that do the same thing.
“And you’ve put adequate safeguards in place?”
“Of course.” But, in truth, no one really knew what kinds of safeguards were necessary or even how to implement enough of them. But Plyotech’s safety measures were on par with what other companies in a similar line of research were doing.
Nanotechnology was changing the landscape of science and medicine forever. Already Plyotech’s scientists were working on ways to have nanobots rearrange atoms to develop new life-forms, to help heal diseases, to create stronger metals. And all of this was just the beginning.
“And the gray goo scenario?” she asked.
Akio was surprised she would even bring that up. It had been addressed numerous times in their reports, and she should have been well versed in Plyotech’s containment protocols.
“We’ve taken measures to reduce the chances of it.”
“To reduce them?”
“There’s no way to eliminate them entirely, but the nanobots we’re proposing on developing will be programmed to stop at very specific times, in very specific ways.”
The gray goo scenario was basically the result of nanobots gone berserk. Anything that’s self-replicating needs control measures so it’ll eventually stop.
Cancer cells, for example, multiply without any mechanism to stop replicating. And they don’t, until they kill the organism they’re living in.
If nanobots self-replicate and create more nanobots that also self-replicate and create more nanobots, well… eventually you would have a planet devoid of carbon life-forms, simply made up of nanobots replicating themselves indefinitely into more self-replicating nanobots.
The first order of business when developing a new virus or bacteria is to form an antidote. It was proving to be the same with nanobots.
Theoretically, scientists would find a way to stop them before anything reached a cataclysmic scale, but in reality, even though there was an international moratorium on actually producing self-replicating nanobots, they were being researched in dozens of countries. After all, you can’t slip behind other companies in the technological race toward a brighter future.
It’s just that none of the nanobots under question had been created yet.
Or at least, unleashed yet.
But malicious ones were coming. Human nature being what it was, it would only be a matter of time.
“What else?” she asked.
“That wraps up the tour. Unless you have any other questions?”
“I would like to see the research areas whose findings are not recorded in the reports.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said the findings not recorded in the reports.”
He tried to look her in the eye while he lied. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“There are gaps. I’d like you to fill them in.”
“The reports cover all of our progress relative to the defense contract.”
She eyed him for a long time. “My flight leaves tomorrow evening at six o’clock. At noon — and I don’t care if it’s Sunday or not — I will be returning here to your facility. That should give you enough time to collect the information you need to fill in the gaps for me. If I’m not satisfied, we will pull the funding for this research and initiate a probe that, I can guarantee you, will be thorough enough to tell us everything we want to know about those holes. Good night, Mr. Takahashi. I hope you are able to collect the pertinent data for me. I do not appreciate having my time wasted.”
“Of course.” He tried to sound as nonplussed as possible.
She spun on her heels. The sound of her stiff shoes clacking against the floor echoed sharply down the hallway as she left.
And Akio Takahashi went back to his office to try to figure out what to do.
All he could think of was calling Colonel Byrne to see what he would suggest.
Fred Anders planned to corner Xavier Wray after the show.
For now, he sat in the third row watching Jevin Banks do some of the most incredible escapes and illusions he’d ever seen.
The theater was packed, and in the mist that curled out from the stage and the spotlights filtering through it, he felt almost like he had entered another world.
He’d heard of Banks before but had never been to one of his performances. Now, he could hardly believe what this guy could pull off.
Fred had been counting on the fact that there would be no metal detector to get into the show, and so he had his handgun with him, the one he carried at work at Area 51, where he served as one of the perimeter sweepers.
He was a security specialist.
Otherwise known, at least to all conspiracy theorists in the area, as a Cammo dude.
Before I know it, it’s time for the piranha tank escape.
Chaos will make the switch easier.
We always try to use it to our advantage.
I always want an element of danger.
The dancers come out so we can prep for the effect.
In four minutes I’m going to drown.
In a sense.
There are three ways to hold your breath longer — four if you count inhaling pure oxygen before you go onstage, which I’m not a fan of. First, fill your lungs completely, usually through buccal pumping, a way of rhythmically opening and closing your mouth in a certain way to draw in more air. But you risk arterial gas embolisms, which is not a good thing.
I avoid that.
Second, hyperventilate right before you go under water, and third, slow your metabolism. This can be done by fasting and relaxation techniques. In some cases, you can actually double or even triple your time by doing both techniques. With practice most people can learn to hold their breath up to three minutes.
There’s always the unexpected to deal with, however.
Once I was performing in Quito, Ecuador, and didn’t take the elevation into consideration. The city is located at more than nine thousand feet above sea level, and the difference in altitude cut more than thirty seconds off my time. I hadn’t been planning on that when I did the escape, and it almost cost me in a big way.
Fred watched as Banks appeared on the platform high above the water tank on the side of the stage.
Tight spotlights narrowed in on him as a video appeared on a screen being lowered to the left of the stage. It showed piranhas in a jungle river circling in on a monkey and attacking it ruthlessly, until, moments later, nothing but a churning of blood and fur and bones was left.