It's all fake!

"Wait, it's all fake? Nothing we know is real? It's just a trillion-dollar scam?"

"YES!!!! Multi-trillion!" he excitedly whispered. Everyone in the room nodded with sober, serious faces and a silent knowing grin.

I'm nervous. I feel the blood drain from my head. Here I stand, three miles underground in a bunker sealed off from civilization at the most secret, top secret, US Government lab, and I just learned all their research is fake. Nothing has been innovated here in decades. Exposing a secret of this magnitude would make my career. Or get me killed. Can their work actually be just a fairy tale, a monumental trillion-dollar fraud? WTF?

My brain is swirling. How can they let me leave? They know I'm a journalist, and I have to expose this. What are they thinking? I'm thinking I'm dead. They can't let me leave. My big question now is, how are they going to kill me? Have they planned a plane crash? Explosion? 'Accidental' poisoning? What will my husband do? What about my kids? I have my Uncle's 75th birthday next month. My calendar flashes before my eyes, and I feel unsteady and lightheaded. 

Dr. Johnson, the lead scientist, notices my dizziness and says, "Here, please, take a seat. I know this is much to take in. But understand you are safe here. Give us a chance to explain. You'll understand what's going on very soon."

I sit and look around. Every scientist, all 15 of them, the most brilliant people alive on Earth, quietly and intently watch me. They are calm and seemingly cheerful. But seem eager and hopeful for some reason I don't yet understand.

I think maybe this is a fucking joke. If it's a joke, it's a fucking excellent joke. My article won't earn a Pulitzer Prize, but it will make people laugh. And heck, super highly-intelligent people have weird senses of humor, right? That could be a joke. And I pray it is because I want to see my family again.

They roll chairs from the long conference room table and sit in a semi-circle. All chairs are pointing toward me. 

Dr. Johnson slowly looks around and says, "Everyone ready?" All the brilliant heads in the room nod. The world's greatest brains silently bob a pensive "yes." 

In front of me are the world's greatest mathematicians, physicists, psychiatrists, anthropologists, nuclear experts, political scientists, computer scientists, ethicists, and weapons experts. And right now, I can't tell if they're good or evil. 

Dr. Johnson says, "This is Dr. Jain; she works on room temperature fission. It would empower the world with unlimited, clean, and free energy. But it may also end life on Earth. Would you elaborate, Dr. Jain…"

Dr. Jain begins, "Hi Melissa! I loved your article about the potential of artificial intelligence to make our society a 'work-less' society. Insightful! I'm a big fan! And your positivity is contagious! I hope you find what I have to say as interesting to you as your article was to me."

"When I started my research, I was excited. Powering the world for free was a dream. But my research also helps understand how strong and weak nuclear forces interact with gravity. And since I work for the government, my research, I later discovered, would also be used to make new and terrible weapons. The most terrible weapons that ever existed. I don't want that. But if I didn't take this job, they'd find and fund a different scientist to do the work. I didn't want that either. I don't want this research used for evil. So I took this job. And I sort of work here now."

Dr. Jain winked, then looked me in the eye, saying, "I want to live a good life, and I don't want to hurt anyone. Understand?" 

I nodded, and she smiled and sat back in her chair.

Dr. Johnson said, "This is Dr. Sandra Chekovich; she is the top weapons scientist on our planet. Please, listen carefully to what she has to say."

"Hi, Melissa. I love how you write. You have such insight and understanding. I hope you will help us. We'll get to that later. First, I want to talk about my research. As a fresh MIT grad, my first project was to create a targeting system to differentiate between enemies and friendlies. I was young and loved a good problem. The military told me I could save lives. And who doesn't want to save lives, right?"

Dr. Chekovich spoke seriously and made extreme eye contact. "I wanted to help people. And while my research made it impossible to kill people who weren't targeted, it also made it very easy to kill people who were. I didn't understand, when I was 22, that the only difference between an enemy and a friendly is who is using the system. My research has killed too many people. And I don't want to further my field anymore. But if I quit, they will replace me, and someone else will further the field. I don't want that."

Dr. Chekovich walks over to me, takes my hand, kneels before me, and looks directly into my eyes, "I don't want my research to harm anyone else. So I sort of work her now. Do you understand?"

I nod yes, and she gives me a warm smile and returns to her seat.

Dr. Johnson says, "I'd like you to meet everyone, but I want to get to the point. Do you want to hear more, or would you like to know why we brought you down here?"

I say, "Dr. Johnson, I do want to know everything. But I think I see what is going on here. Are you all spoofing your research efforts to stifle bad government?"

All the scientists jump to their feet. Dr. Johnsons says, "Yes! Yes! And please, call me Jessica! Yes, you get it. You get it."

A tiny celebration of awkward hooting and off-beat clapping begins. Dr. Johnson says, "Shhh, shhh, we need to get to phase 2. Phase 2." The room gets quiet, and everyone sits back down. All eyes are on me. They are calm but eager. There is a positive energy in the air. And hope.

Dr. Johnson points to one of the scientists, and she stands up. "Hello, Melissa. I am Dr. Christoph. Angela Christoph. I am an authority on cultural anthropology and mathematics. I model outcomes based on people's actions and choices. Governments need to be able to make decisions that will positively impact their citizens. At least, that is what I originally thought. Then I discovered that governments want me to model for compliance. People voting against their best interests was a favorite model I was routinely asked to create. I don't want to do that. And my models showed the harm that many of those decisions created to benefit the few and take advantage of the many. Essentially, the population the government was supposed to protect was the population the government was preying upon. I wanted to scream!"

Dr. Christoph picked up a remote control and clicked a button. The lights dimmed, and the wall became a massive high-definition video screen. On it is a global map with colors and shapes but no country borders. The colorful shapes moved at different speeds and into other map regions. The movement was quick and the colors changed rapidly.

Looking at the map, Dr. Christoph began to speak, "If we each work to the best of our ability, we will create free energy, new weapons of mass destruction, and amazingly massive development projects that are beacons of our technological capabilities. But the lowest bidders will implement our plans primarily and above all else for profit and will destroy the oceans, the rain forests, and much of our planet's ability to sustain life."

She pointed to the map, which showed growth at a rapid pace. For a brief moment, all the colorful shapes merged into one large mass, which I am guessing is the global population all controlled by a single government. Then suddenly, the screen flashed. The blob broke apart and dwindled until it vanished and left an empty world. I don't know if that flash means a nuclear explosion or an inflection point at which the Earth could no longer support life. But it was shocking and scary.

Dr. Christoph continues, "But what would happen if we simply pretend to work instead of working? What if we slow the wheels of progress?" She clicks the remote, and we see a new map.

"If we slow down governments' pace, we can extend life. We can protect humanity, the oceans and give the Earth time to heal. We know we can only do this for a limited time. But we only need to do this until humanity figures out how to live together peacefully. That is our goal. A pipe dream? Maybe but it is our goal. And we believe we can achieve it with a little help. We have one more surprise for you. One more before we ask you to do something that is likely placing the fate of humanity in your hands. One more…"

"Whoa, Dr. Christoph, not so fast. Don't jump to phase 3 just yet. We're still in phase 2." Dr. Johnson said. "Can you get Dr. Dobrovolsky on the line?"

A tone chimed in from a speaker in the ceiling. A person with a heavy accent says, "Is it my good friend Dr. Johnson? This is Dobrovolsky!!! Can you hear me?"

Dr. Johnson says, "Yes! Dr. Dobrovolsky. We can hear you well. We have our friend Melissa here. Can you tell her what is going on?"

"Yes, yes. Dr. Melissa or Mrs. Melissa, let me begin. I don't have much time. I represent many non-USA scientists in labs around the world. 

We are not supposed to be talking. But why? The secrecy made no sense. The most brilliant people in the world should always be talking, sharing, thinking, and helping each other. That makes more sense. And long ago, we realized we don't hate each other. We never did. We are merely brilliant people who love to solve problems. 

And just because our parents gave us life in different parts of the world does not mean we are enemies. We are all brothers and sisters. Only our governments need us to hate each other. I would much rather play chess with Dr. Jessica than hurt her. Many years ago, we realized our goals were the same despite our countries' wishes. And we want you to know that we, too, support Dr. Jessica's vision. And further that, we are working together to sort of work for our government's goals. We seek knowledge, not war. Understand?"

He sounds sincere, but I'm concerned our enemies are duping our scientists. I stand up and say, "Dr. Dobrovolsky, how do I know you are not simply telling us to stifle our weapons creation so you can attack us later? How can I believe you are sincere?"

"Dr. Johnson! You picked a good journalist! She's smart!" Dobrovolsky says with a chuckle. "We are not the military. We are scientists. We can't start a nuclear war, only enable it. And, unfortunately, we can't stop a nuclear war. But we can delay the development of worse weapons. And we have been doing so for many decades. Quietly keeping in touch and sharing our moves and innovations, one by one, working together to sort of work. Your scientists know everything we are working on, and we know everything you are working on. Nobody knows we are only working together. And mind you, we have been doing this for decades. One more thing. Consider this, in the room you are in; there is more brain power now than in all of history. And know that I have the same room for my country: many countries, many rooms of brilliant people. Now imagine if we all work together. What can we create? That is why we are doing this. To create without supporting any government. The world is not yet ready for our creations, so we must work slowly. Don't you think we could fill the world with flying cars if we wanted to? Intelligent people don't want to hurt the planet or kill people. We want to innovate, to understand, and to help. It's the only wise thing to do. Now do you believe me? " 

Everyone awaits my answer, and all seem worried about my skepticism.

Dr. Johnson breaks the silence, "Do you have any more questions for Dr. Dobrovolsky? We want him to be safe, so he must leave quickly."

I say, "Yes, yes. Thank you. I understand you, Dr. Dobrovolsky. And yes, I believe you. Thank you." 

He says, "Good, Good, Good. And Good bye. Speak with you next week Dr. Johnson." the line goes dead.

My brain is running through many different scenarios. "Why me?" is the biggest question. What do they want from me?

The room is silent.  

Dr. Johnson says, "Time for phase 3." Everyone stands up and walks with a planned purpose. Dr. Christoph walks to me. She says, "I'm tasked with helping you to think positively about helping us. Based on our review of your career, family life, education, and childhood, we think you'll do what we hope you will do."

As she speaks, everyone moves furniture and brings things in or out of the room. Slowly the space transforms into a farmhouse bedroom. But not any bedroom. My bedroom when I lived with my Grandmother during the summers.

They wheel in the same brand, model, and color Sears dressers. The bed quilt is identical to the one my Grandmother made me. And the screen built into the wall suddenly shows an image of my bedroom wall with the projected window revealing the exact scene I used to look at and enjoy; waving fields of grain, a barnyard with prancing chickens. Suddenly, I felt like I'm at Grandmother's house and I'm 12 years old. I feel safe. 

The room smells like warm cookies as Dr. Johnson wheels in a tray filled with them. 

Dr. Christoph's face is beaming, "Did I get it right?"

I laugh and say, "Wow. Amazing. But how?" 

She says, "We ARE the most intelligent people on Earth. We got photos of you on the farm during our research. Based on our understanding of the brain, childhood development, and family dynamics, plus some mathematical models we built, those days on the farm were good to you. 

And your Grandma is just a peach. We loved interviewing her. Don't worry; she thinks we are doing research for Harvard for an elder memory preservation project. Which we actually were. 

You know, you were selected from a search including over 1000 other journalists?"

"What? Wow. I'm honored."

Dr. Christoph hands me a plate with a giant, warm chocolate chip cookie and a cup of milk with ice in it. How did they know I love ice in my milk?

The commotion instantly ceases. All silently standing in front of me. 

The door opens, and slowly Dr. Ester Rice enters. She's in her late 90s, but her smile is like a 20-year-old picking up a prom date. "Did my geniuses do well? Are you happy? I hope so. Because phase 4 is the big ask. And yes, you must decide today. We need to know what our plans must be. And our plans depend on your plans."

She picks up a cookie as she walks toward me. She is the Einstein of our current world—the smartest person ever to live. And I thought she had passed a long time ago. But here she is. I feel the greatness of being in her presence. I'm speechless. And quickly trying to swallow the masticated cookie wad in my mouth. Why do I take such big bites?

Ester continues, "Here's the deal. Spend the next few days as planned. Then go back to your life. But instead of writing what you know, you lie. You tell fantastical stories about amazing things you supposedly saw here. But they are just fabrications we tell you to publish based on our mathematical models. Work at your publication. But cut back on your journalistic explorations as they relate to science and focus instead on two more important things. 1) revealing corruption, injustice, and political and governmental misconduct and 2) occasionally writing articles we ask you to. If you do that, we can all sort of work together to save the plant and humanity."

As she speaks, I'm thinking about journalistic integrity and the Pulitzer I'd be giving up. If I exposed them, I'd be rich and famous. Book deals, movie rights, etc. Instant success and money. The money would be incredible. I would have my dream life. 

But I'm also thinking about what would happen to humanity and these people here. What about them? What about us?

Dr. Rice says, "You're probably thinking about journalistic, fame, and fortune. Don't worry; we modeled that too. We picked you because, in every instance of your life that you had a road to cross, you picked the kind road. And that is what we need right now, kindness. Eat your cookie. And think about it. You have three days here—no need to rush such a major decision. Ask any questions you'd like. We place the world's future in your hands. We have faith in you."

Dr. Rice takes my hand as my Grandmother used to, and we begin to walk. She says, "Before you decide to save the world, we should have a little fun. You wanna see the cool garden we're growing here? Come, you're gonna love it. It's next to the secret flying cars you're never allowed to tell anyone you saw."