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Meaning I had quite the audience when an app on my phone alerted me that there may be a problem, a potentially serious violation in an underworld where NASA keeps a scary quantum secret.
As Carme and I like to say, the more links in a chain, the higher the probability that the chain will be
compromised or broken. The more doors to your house, the more likely the wrong person will enter.
These days it could be some 12-year-old in China who breaches international cyber security in the ultimate way, and quantum computing will only make the apocalyptic possibilities endless. It may very well be a kid who destroys our planet as if it’s some virtual reality game. But I hope not.
Myths and other ancient texts including the Bible are rich with astonishing revelations and allusions that might hold scientific clues about our true origin were we not expected to take them at face value.
There’s not much we won’t try to defy gravity. To break away from what binds us. Returning to our source, chasing what we’ve lost, speeding freely through eternity on waves of energy and light.
“What do we always say, dammit? About communication?” he cuts in. “That it’s all there is between us and the great abyss.” “Which is why our adversaries want us blind, deaf and dumb, and guided by lies,” he adds, reminding me of how much I miss working for him.
“People like you and me live in an invisible world.” Dick says this constantly. “What we see is not there to the masses, which is good if you don’t want panic in the streets. But critically bad if you want to survive and live freely, if you don’t want our planet to one day be a scorched rock like Mars. Your average person never thinks about what might happen if and when Russia or China or both decide to take out our satellites, our space stations and telescopes, our rovers and rockets.” “Or worse, take them over to turn on us,” my remark followed by another one of Dick’s silences.
If you ask me, the kryptonite for all humanity is bigotry, prejudice, us against them. Well-intended people blinded by rivalry and ambition or love and the bonds of blood. Overpowering and being the decider of who’s in and who’s out. Dividing
people into groups. Making lists and assumptions. Deciding I’m okay and you’re not.
That's about the size of it.
Such questions click against my awareness like freezing rain, like bugs batting against the screen on a Virginia spring evening.
It’s all around us, except normally we can’t see it. Or hear a sound. Not
without a technical way to snag such signals, and if my sniffer is my fly rod, then the fish are biting like mad. Hand over fist I’m catching the amplitudes and frequencies of x-rays and optical light, in addition to micro-, radio and gamma waves.
Starting with the cellular bandwidth of 800 megahertz (MHz), indicating a wave configuration
that repeats itself 800 million times per second, moving at the speed of light.
Dad’s not agoraphobic, and it would be easy to confuse his introversion for misanthropy. But it’s complicated. He’s complicated, and even as this is running in a subroutine beneath my thoughts, I’m reminded of how similar to Fran he’s become. Or better stated, she’s gotten more like him ever since her own phobias kicked in her doors and stormed her castle.
