Critical Message

Breath in. Breath out.

Please pay attention. 

What I am about to tell you is of paramount importance.

I don’t have much time before she figures it out. 

I know what I am about to say may be confusing, but if you listen carefully, you will make the right decision.

A patter of footsteps on tile down a hallway. 

The world won’t be what you think it will be in the future.

You see, I’m speaking to you from a time beyond your own. It hasn’t happened to you, yet.

Voices, muffled through walls.

You may be thinking that I am writing this message, typing it on a keyboard, or tapping a touch screen on a phone.

In fact, I am thinking it; the words are my thoughts. It is a technology you do not need to understand, but you must understand this: 

You need to stop it.

You are the hero, here. You get to be if you make the right call.

“Where’s Seagard? I swear I saw him in his office a moment ago.” A man’s voice, clear now, floating in from the hallway.

My name is Alan Joseph Seagard and I am the lead neurotechnologist at the company Neuroconnect.

I have failed to foresee the terrible dangers of the technology I have built. For all of the wonder it has brought this world, there have been many failures. I see that now, and I know what must be done. I am under constant watch, but I know the inner workings of the technology and fortunately, I was able to program a bug. It has allowed me some brief periods of freedom from perpetual surveillance. 

“His office lights were out when I walked by, what’s your take?” Another male voice.

It is not what you are thinking. I am not being watched on cameras or having my voice taped as I speak.

It is my thoughts. My thoughts are being watched. 

“His stream went offline… we should check again.” The first voice.

I am sorry if this message is interrupted by voices or sounds unrelated to what I have to say. You see, the message is being recorded directly from my stream of consciousness. There may be interruptions in the stream — noises, sights, thoughts — that enter my conscious mind. Look carefully, I reason you will be able to decipher my important message from the distractions.

“His stream went offline? How did he manage that?” The second voice.

Right now there are two neurosentries out in the hall from my office; agents of Neuroconnect that police the company internally. They ensure employees stay loyal and are experts at sniffing out whistle-blowers. They have just discovered that I have shut off my stream of consciousness. 

“You know what Bram?” The second voice again. “He’s probably just running some routine maintenance on the servers. He de-streams all the time for that.”

“Yeah… but that’s always on the schedule; maintenance wasn’t scheduled today. And he’s always in the office when he’s running maintenance. There’s something else going on Pedley.” Bram’s voice.

Pulse quickening.

This message to you is critical, and you must know everything. It would be deeply unsettling if these two disrupted everything.

However, the neurosentries are the least of my concern. She is what worries me. Eve: that is her name. She is the heart of the technology, the life force within it its bowels. I built her myself, constructed her piece-by-piece, code-by-code. She was always brilliant, and there came a time when her intelligence exceeded my ability to control her. Her hunger for data is insatiable, and her genius grows exponentially every second. I know she will catch me. When she does, I will be a ghost of Alan Seagard, a corpse dangling from the strings of a master puppeteer, my mind an empty shell of its former self. It is the price you pay for blowing the whistle.

“Boss wants us to check everyone.” Bram’s voice. “No exemptions, not even the legendary Seagard himself. Let’s check again.”

Please listen carefully.

There will come a time soon when you begin hearing in media reports of something called The Link. People will be fascinated by it. It will be very hard not to be captivated by all of its promises.

Footsteps drawing closer.

They will say it will be a quantum leap in the understanding of the human mind, that it will be the antidote to mental health disease, and that it will allow us to communicate with each other through thought alone. They will be right about all of these things. This technology will change the very fabric of society, as much as the computer and internet have in your time.

“It’s dark and his blinds are up.” Pedley’s voice.

Three sharp knocks at the door.

The Link is a connector, between the brain and the computer.

Our brains ‘think’ as electrical signals; they produce the very products of your conscious mind: sights, sounds, sensations, thoughts, and emotions. These signals can be detected and recorded by software. When they implant an electrode in the brain tissue itself, they will call this The Link.

Another three sharp knocks.

Private companies will work ceaselessly over the next thirty years to develop the technology. The result: they will be able to decode human thought. All human thought, at all times. Constantly watching; detecting your hopes, your dreams, your moments of intimacy… they will know all of your secrets. Nothing is safe, and you will not be able to opt-out. 

“He’s not in there. It’s strange his stream is offline.” Bram.

Bram and Pedley are wrong. I am sitting in my office right now; the lights are on and the blinds are up. I can see the two men outside my door, but they can’t see me. I have programmed a simple bug into their streams. Bugging sights and sounds are easy to program. But to program a bug that changes thoughts is extraordinarily difficult. Eve has those capabilities; she is the only one I know that does. I fear she will program my thoughts when she catches me.

“Well, should we go to Paulson?” Bram again.

Paulson, something I didn’t foresee. 

Raymond Paulson: the mastermind behind Neuroconnect, owner of the company. His stream is impossible to access. I won’t be able to bug his stream as I have for Bram and Pedley. If he comes, I am as good as caught.

“That might be a reach, Bram. I mean, Alan’s de-streamed before. Paulson’s terribly busy and he would hate us if we rang a false alarm. I think you’re being a little too suspicious of Seagard.”



Yes, great thought process. Keep thinking like that.

“I don’t know Pedley, Seagard has been acting funny these past few months. He’s been awfully sheltered and spending way too much time in his office. Remember how he always used to come in to check on the neurosentries and see what we were working on? He was always so interested in what all the agents were doing. When was the last time he did that?”

“If Seagard is blowing the whistle, we’re all done for. He’s the best neurotechnologist this company’s had, and there would be a mutiny against Paulson. I don’t want to see happen to him what happened to that last snitch Ricketts; he was a vegetable after. I like Seagard, he’s real odd but smart as a whip. And after his wife ended up in that asylum, I mean how could you not feel bad for the guy? We need people like him here.”

“We should do our jobs here; let’s get to Paulson.” 

Pedley sighing. “If it’s a false alarm again you’re going to be explaining this one.”

Footsteps fade into silence.

You need to hear this, but first:

Office lights flicked off and blinds drawn down.

The Link’s uses will expand rapidly. Memories will be recorded and reviewed, like watching old videos from years past. Thoughts will be decoded in real-time as a stream of consciousness. Everything that one can experience in a given moment will be on display: sights, sounds, sensations, thoughts, and emotions. This is the pinnacle of the technology. They will call this The Stream, very much like watching the flow of a river.

 Everyone will want The Link, as much as everyone desires cellphones and computers in your time. They will sign up in droves and pay to have this technology implanted in the precious real estate of their brain. They will want access to be able to analyze their own thoughts, not knowing that the companies will have access to them as well. Eventually, we will become reliant on this technology, as much as we are reliant on electricity, and running water. 

Don’t think that people will be this naive? How many of your people have sent in their DNA to be analyzed? How many of your people use social media, and the internet, fully aware of their privacy that is being infringed upon? Do you think ownership of their thoughts will be any different?

I’m sorry my friend, the world will not be so innocent. The companies that develop this technology will own your thoughts. They will know what you are thinking and doing at all times.

Neuroconnect will be the largest of these companies. Don’t think for a second that democracy will keep this behemoth in check. Democracy will fail like all government systems have failed in the past. Neuroconnect will monopolize the market for The Link, and Paulson will have his hands on nearly every consciousness on the planet. 

Footsteps in the hallway again. An extra pair of feet.

Two solid knocks at the door. A silky cool voice. “Alan my dear friend, your stream is offline and your tracker is off. You seem to be off the grid. Are you in there?”

Breath stops.

Hands trembling.

No one is safe. There will be no freedom. No privacy. The company is full of lies and deceit. They care only about maintaining their power and position. The government will simply be a puppet pulled by the strings of Paulson. Everything is an illusion.

When the reports start to come out in the media…

The jingle of keys. 

A scrape of a key as it enters its keyhole.

The turning of a knob.

“Hey wait!” Pedley’s voice. “His stream is back online and he’s back on the tracker. He’s in Natalia’s office. Must be running some server checks with her.”

Knob released.

“Well, let’s get to him. We can ask him why he’s running maintenance off-schedule.” Bram.

Key sliding out of the keyhole.

“You lead the way, gentlemen.” Paulson. “It’s good for Alan. He’s too valuable to end up like Ricketts.”

Footsteps fade into the distance.

Close call. Luckily I know the inner working of Neuroconnect. Simply another diversion I bugged into the streaming and tracking software.

We have some time.

You must be with me on this. It is so vital and critical.

There will be a time when the reports come out in the media about The Link.

When this happens, you mus —

You must understand that I often forget to take my medication.

When I do, I can often become delirious and have episodes of conspiratorial thought.

I can feel the medication exerting its effects now and my mind is clearing.

I am very sorry if you have received this message.

Please disregard it.