Chapter 5 Navuh
NAVUH
Navuh stood at the window of his office, hands clasped behind his back, watching the construction crews swarm like industrious ants over the damaged sections of the compound.
It was costing him a fortune to bring so many tradesmen to the island, and the security risk associated with so many humans roaming freely was not negligible, but the sooner the repair work was done, the sooner he could reopen the brothel for the influential businessmen and politicians the exclusive resort attracted.
What they paid for the privilege of being guests on the island was substantial, but it paled in comparison to what the information he extracted from them was worth.
Even more profitable was what he could get them to do for him in exchange for him keeping recordings of them with lovely young women in compromising situations from surfacing on social media.
In the meantime, though, Navuh could focus on improving his enhanced army.
Three days had passed since Doctor Konstantin Petrov's arrival on the island, but Navuh had deliberately waited before summoning the man to his presence. Better to let him acclimate while observing him when he wasn't aware of being watched.
Was he really as mad as the medical records from the insane asylum claimed? Or was it an act?
The surveillance team's reports had been interesting.
The Russian spent most of his time going over Doctor Zhao's research files while drinking vodka.
He'd filled five handwritten notebooks with equations and diagrams that looked like the fevered scribblings of a madman. Which, technically, they were.
The intercom on Navuh's desk buzzed, and a second later, his assistant's voice sounded through the device. "Lord Navuh, Losham and Doctor Petrov have arrived."
"Send them in," Navuh replied without turning away from the window.
Losham entered first, and even without looking, Navuh could picture his adopted son's appearance—immaculate as always and dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that remained crisp despite the island's humidity. Losham understood the importance of presentation.
A pang of sorrow pierced through Navuh's heart as he thought about Lokan, his real son, who had betrayed him.
Lokan was a lot like Losham, intelligent, articulate, and decorous.
He wasn't as brilliant as Losham, but he was more honest, more devoted, which was incongruent with the reality of his betrayal, but still true.
Unlike Losham's light, measured footsteps, the second set was heavy and shuffling, and curiosity had Navuh finally turn to look at his guests.
Doctor Konstantin Petrov was short, perhaps five feet seven, with wild gray hair that stuck up at odd angles as if he'd been electrocuted, and a long, unkempt beard.
His rumpled gray jacket was stained, and in his hand he held a large bottle of vodka like a talisman.
But it was his eyes that were his most striking feature—pale blue, almost colorless, and burning with an intensity that reminded Navuh of the enhanced soldiers' gazes.
"My lord," Losham said with a slight bow, his cultured voice carrying just the right note of deference. "Allow me to introduce Doctor Konstantin Petrov."
"In the flesh." Petrov executed an awkward bow and raised the vodka bottle in what might have been a toast or a greeting. "Lord Navuh, the king of this island. Or should I say its god?"
Navuh tilted his head. "A god?"
He liked the title, but it wasn't accurate. Regrettably, he was only a demigod.
"Because you think you can play God with consciousness." Petrov's accent was thick, his words slightly slurred. "I mean it as a compliment. I prefer working with a god than with the boring bureaucrats who run the asylum."
Losham's face tightened with barely concealed mortification. "My apologies, Lord Navuh. Doctor Petrov is not entirely lucid, but that's the best we were able to achieve. His brilliance seems to manifest most clearly when he's drunk."
Petrov took a swig directly from the bottle.
"Alcohol silences the screaming. It's a crude medicine but effective.
" He walked to one of the chairs facing Navuh's desk and collapsed into it uninvited.
"Your Doctor Zhao was an amateur, by the way.
Brilliant, but still. He was like a child who discovered fire and immediately tried to burn down the house. "
Navuh's eyes narrowed. The disrespect Petrov was showing him and Zhao's work should have angered him, but he found himself oddly intrigued. "Explain."
Petrov leaned forward, his unfocused gaze suddenly sharpening.
"The enhancement compounds were crude but effective.
" He lifted his bottle. "Like this." He took another long swig.
"They forced uncontrolled evolution through chemical trauma.
Zhao didn't understand what he was doing.
He thought he was enhancing the soldiers.
Ha!" He took another drink. "He was breaking down the barriers between individual consciousness and the quantum field.
Creating accidental mystics. No wonder they went insane. "
A quantum field? Mystics?
Navuh had a vague understanding of quantum theory, but nothing that could explain what happened to the enhanced soldiers.
Petrov might be talking nonsense and using terms he thought Navuh didn't understand to make himself appear smart, or he might be simply just as mad as the doctors from the insane asylum had claimed.
"Can you improve upon his work?" Navuh sat behind his desk.
"Improve?" Petrov laughed, a sound like breaking glass.
"I can do better than improve. I can give you soldiers who touch the collective unconscious without drowning in it.
But first, tell me—" He gestured with the bottle, sloshing vodka dangerously close to the rim.
"Do you understand what consciousness actually is? "
Losham sat on the other chair. "Doctor Petrov, perhaps we should focus on more practical matters."
"Practical?" Petrov's voice boomed. "You want practical?
Fine. Your enhanced soldiers are experiencing quantum entanglement at the neurological level.
Their brain chemistry has been altered to perceive quantum superposition states.
They're not sharing thoughts. They exist in multiple probability states simultaneously.
It's beautiful and terrible and completely uncontrolled. "
Navuh leaned back in his chair, assessing the human. It sounded like drunken ramblings, but he might have genuine insight. "Do you understand what's happening to them, Doctor Petrov?"
"Of course, I understand." Petrov's voice dropped to almost a whisper.
"I've been there myself, you see. Not through chemicals.
Through mathematics. I solved an equation that shouldn't exist, and for three minutes and seventeen seconds, I could see every possible version of myself across infinite timelines.
The asylum was actually quite restful after that. "
The man was hopeless. He was a certified lunatic.
Losham shifted in his chair. "Doctor Petrov has reviewed all of Zhao's research files. His preliminary notes suggest several modifications to the enhancement compounds that could provide more stability."
"Who needs stability?" Petrov muttered, but then his expression shifted, becoming almost lucid.
"But necessary, yes. Your soldiers are like radio receivers tuned to all frequencies at once.
Cacophony. What you need is selective tuning.
Let them access the collective when needed, return to individuality when not. "
"Can you do this?" Navuh asked.
Petrov met his gaze, and for a moment, Navuh saw something dangerous in those pale eyes. Intelligence so vast it had cracked under its own weight. "I can do anything with the right tools."
"Tell me what you need, and it will be delivered to you. Neurologists, chemists, psychiatrists. You can assemble a dream team of scientists."
Petrov scoffed. "I don't need or want any of them.
I need just one man. My assistant, Dmitri Volkov.
Brilliant boy. Well, not a boy anymore, I suppose.
He's been in a labor camp for the past two years.
" Petrov took another long pull from his vodka bottle.
"They arrested him when they took me to the asylum.
Very unfair. He was only following my instructions. "
Navuh glanced at Losham, who shook his head, indicating that he didn't know what Petrov was talking about.
The guy was either creating fantasies in his confused brain, or Losham's background check left something to be desired.
"What did you two do that landed you in an asylum and him in a labor camp?" Navuh asked.
Petrov smiled, and it was not a pleasant expression. "We were conducting an experiment in consciousness transfer. Specifically, whether human consciousness could be uploaded into a distributed network of biological processors."
"Biological processors?"
"Rats," Petrov said cheerfully. "We networked forty-seven rat brains together using micro electrodes and synthetic neurons. Then we attempted to upload the consciousness of a volunteer test subject into the collective rat-mind."
Losham's expression was carefully neutral, but Navuh could see the disgust beneath it. "Someone volunteered to do that?"
"Well." Petrov shrugged. "He was a convicted murderer, scheduled for execution. I thought it was quite humanitarian to offer him a chance at immortality, of sorts."
"What happened to him?" Navuh asked.
"Oh, the transfer worked beautifully for about six hours.
He could control all forty-seven rats simultaneously, see through their eyes, and experience reality from forty-seven different perspectives at once.
Revolutionary!" Petrov's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Then the human consciousness began to fragment.
Pieces of him in each rat, but no longer coherent.
Fascinating, but ultimately unsuccessful. "