Gods and Daemons
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I had been coopted, whether I liked it or not, into a nameless government facility in orbit. The purpose of the facility was to identify and, if possible, counteract the technology-suppressing effects of systems - spread everywhere in the world - thought to be implemented by unknown aliens, often referred to as 'the gods' just for want of some better words to describe them. The reason I had been coopted was two-fold: first, I had had positively identified the existence of Nano-suppressors - tiny devices, smaller than viruses, which actively interfered with my attempts to construct functional nanotechnology - and second, the accidental revelation that this was not the only example of technical developments being suppressed, by active means which implied the existence of intelligent action. Someone, or something, out there wanted to limit technological development, with a particular emphasis, it seemed, on solutions which would allow humans to travel to other stellar systems and, perhaps, colonise the worlds which might be found there. Apart from advanced nanotechnology, inertial cancellation - effectively, artificial gravity - was deliberately crippled; space warps, which would give the effect of faster-than-light travel, seemed to be impossible, and advanced genome modification - complex DNA rewrites which would allow for humans to live on otherwise inhospitable worlds - were consistent failures. I was not quite a prisoner, although my ability to travel or even communicate with the rest of the world was severely limited. Still, it was not all bad: the entire contents of my laboratory at the University of Hawaii had been shipped here, and it was much easier to get new equipment with only minimal effort to justify the necessity. There is an old adage which says 'if it is inevitable, relax and enjoy it'; I certainly intended to do just that. The facility had far too many staff for me to be able to remember more than a tiny fraction of the names and, in many ways, it was very much like being an undergraduate again. Everybody had their own tiny bedroom, very much like those in the dormitories I remember from my youth, even if the beds were a lot more comfortable, even if not much bigger. There were several communal dining areas, with several different choices for breakfast, lunch and dinner, as well as a well-stocked, and well-staffed bar called 'The Cave' for after-hours socialising. Lunch options, for example, varied from 'grab a sandwich/burger/sushi box and return to your desk/lab/cubicle' to a 'two-hour fine dining experience in what might have been mistaken for a well-tended and sunlit garden'. I was standing in the lunchtime queue for sushi, still mentally immersed in some problem I was struggling with back in the lab, when I was approached by somebody I knew slightly, a man called Mario. "Joe, can I introduce you to somebody?" he said. I blinked twice, dragging my attention back to the here and now. "Sure. Who is it?" Mario stepped to one side. "Joe, let me introduce Professor Maeve Cooper, a theoretical physicist. Maeve, this is Doctor Joseph Momoa, nanotechnology engineering." I found myself shaking hands with a slightly-built woman with translucently pale skin, long auburn hair and startlingly green eyes which looked me up and down in a distinctly appraising way. This was not an entirely unfamiliar experience. I am more than averagely tall, my shoulders are broad and my hair is very dark and slightly unruly. This was not the first time that a woman had made her interest in me very plain on first meeting. "Pleased to meet you," I said, smiling, adding, "What area are you currently looking at?" "I'm working on induced gravity formation of space-time warps," she replied, smiling back. This was an area I knew almost nothing about, although it could always be fun to learn, especially from a charming and enthusiastic teacher. "How can I help?" "I want to pick your brains about using nanotech for building hyper-dense structures to generate the necessary gravitational fields," she said, suddenly serious. "Ah," I replied, thinking hard, "That might be possible. I'd have to think about it a little." "Great! Could we meet for coffee sometime? Say tomorrow?" Of course I agreed immediately. The coffee lounge is large and often busy, and so would be an excellent place for an informal discussion without any pressure on anybody. "Great! 10am?" I nodded. She turned on her heel and bounced off; I might not have caught the glance over her shoulder if I had not been looking out for it.
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Introduction