As I planned this new step into our participation on the world stage, I had so many other things calling for my attention that ti was sotis hard for to track them all. I had been thinking about ways to use alien technologies and Joe’s unique abilities to better advantage. I wanted to really integrate them into my everyday behavior to help be more efficient and better at all the things I needed to be effective at ruling the Earth, a pan-galactic trading empire, and everything else I hoped to accomplish.
I decided to start with more brain hacks. Joe had essentially unlimited processing power and mory storage. He could implant knowledge directly into my mory and even strengthen or weaken neural pathways to help make or break habits.
It had been through a combination of these two techniques that I had been able to quickly learn and beco facile with the advanced mathematics derived by the combined efforts of multiple advanced alien societies over tens of thousands of years, This included principles and techniques far beyond what Earth mathematicians had been able to devise over the re two or three thousand years humans had been actively working with mathematics in any capacity beyond the idea of counting to ten. Not only had he imprinted the knowledge directly into my mory, but as I used it and thought about it, he followed the neural pathways that my unique brain used in processing mathematics and strengthened them. Essentially taking what started as a simple footpath and upgrading it over ti into a multi-lane superhighway. The end result is that not only did I know the information, but I could work with it faster and better, intuitively. Performing complex equations in my head beca as easy as walking.
Really, though, this was just the tip of the iceberg in terms of what was possible. As I explored the possibilities with Joe, I learned that there were limits as to how much the human brain could hold in terms of knowledge. It also had limits on the level of neural pathway strengthening that it could tolerate and leave functioning like a normal human. For example, he told , it was possible to strengthen my mathematical reasoning pathways much, much more than he had, but at so point in that process, if we continued, it would dominate all my thinking. In other words, my brain would default to mathematic processing for almost everything. It would want to run calculations to decide the rate of my breathing, how much to inflate my lings, how quickly to inflate and deflate them, the optimal amount of diaphragm contraction to facilitate breathing, the amount of vasodilation in my nasal cavities to warm the incoming air if it was cold out, and every minute detail. It would want to use calculations to figure out how to best interact with other people for maximum desired benefit, or to determine which goals I should have. In short, unlimited strengthening of my ability to process mathematics would turn my brain into a calculator-like device that would default to using math for every task whether that was the right approach or not. Other pathways in my brain, like those governing emotions, for example, would be overwheld by the ease with which all thoughts could run down the mathematics channel that they would even further atrophy and eventually go completely unused.
There were so species of intelligent beings in the galaxy who did use this kind of specialization to so extent. So individuals would be so focused and devoted to one discipline that their basic personality was almost completely dysfunctional. Different brain constructions of the many and varied intelligent beings throughout the galaxy could handle different levels of this before it burned out their brains.
That was another key limitation, physical, biological brains could only handle so much. If you enhanced their overall processing or tried to force too many mories in, they would start malfunctioning and even physically deteriorate. The mitochondria could only generate so much energy to power the cells, and there were only so many neural linkages to send signals along. Once you approached those limits, bad things happened, signals got mixed up or lost, cells fatigued and failed to function reliably, so cells were even ’worked to death’ left so depleted that the cell died, further eroding capacity.
As a basic safety protocol, we steered very clear of any limit that could result in damage. This ant we sotis had to go slow with mory implants, either slowing the transfer rate or batching it over multiple days.
I had been thinking about ways to work around these limits for months. Finally, I decided with Joe, to try an experint. I wanted Joe to store the details of every human weapon, military strategy, historic battles, current tactics, the specific tendencies of various generals, national leaders, and lower level commanders, military logistics, and anything else that could be known about how to conduct a military operation on Earth against any Earth force. My brain couldn’t handle all that without being overwheld, I knew. Instead, I had Joe make a little compartnt containing all of that information in his limitless brain, I told him to structure it in such a way that by establishing a telepathic link, like the way he and I communicated with each other, I could access that knowledge directly. Not all of it at once, but just the bits that were relevant to a particular situation.
For example, in the Ukrainian theater, I could quickly ’know’ every weapon available to either side, including the manner in which either side tended to use improvised devices (like drones dropping explosives), I could see the specific commanders and the forces assigned to them, their objectives, tactics preferred by each decision-maker in various situations, the ti it took a shoulder-fired RPG to travel 50 ters, how many milliters from the intended target it might land, with perfect operator aim, and every details that might affect an upcoming battle or even a campaign. Because Joe himself could literally sense every molecule in the universe all at once, he could fill in data points like the lead tank in the convoy (a Russian T-72) has 283.7 liters of diesel in its main tank and auxiliary tanks are all empty. The knowledge in the databank would allow to know that 283.7 liters equates to maximum range of 79-105 kiloters before running out of diesel. This specific tank’s engine tuning and wear, tread condition, lubrication, and a host of other factors would result in a real range of between 74 and 85 kiloters before it ran dry.
Using this data storage and retrieval strategy, I could know that the driver was reckless, and undisciplined, and would run it dry during a battle, and if he did so during an engagent, he would most likely exit the tank, leaving the gunner to fend for himself. Because the gunner was more dedicated, he would continue shoot as long as he could from within the stationary, high value target. If both survived, the gunner would be about 72% likely to punch the driver imdiately on their next eting but would ultimately lose the fistfight even though he outweighed the scrappy driver by 15 kilos. The force commander assud this vehicle had 400 liters of diesel in reserve tanks and that the main tank was full with 1200 liters at the beginning of the mission. He was unaware the crew had siphoned it off and sold it over the last week to cover the cost of their drinking (and other sundry vices) and to buy food to supplent the ager field rations they had been given.
I could access data like that in real ti and process the parts I needed to form a strategy and detailed tactics based on the data from our side, the terrain, weather, and other relevant information. But it made my head hurt after about ten minutes, and Joe advised that we terminate the connection for safety. We decided he could pare down the data to the most important parts related to a specific engagent. Based on his estimates of data flow and processing, I could handle that reduced load for a maximum of 28 minutes with no lasting damage if I rested afterwards. My capacity might increase with practice but, he estimated, would never get beyond 43 minutes of real-world military engagent processing. That was potentially useful, but disappointing.
The effort was interrupted by Joe informing that I had an incoming call from Angelo Diaz, forrly known by his undercover na of Jorge Maldonado, the CIA operative we had rescued from El Modelo Prison in Colombia. After we released him into the custody of the US Embassy in Guatemala, he had been reassigned to the embassy, presumably because the CIA hoped his relationship with us would provide inroads.
"OK, swap into the adult android, and put the call through," I told Joe.
The best thing about swapping from my real body to the android’s sensory feeds was that the headache from overtaxing my brain was gone as soon as the transfer was made. I knew that my brain was still sending the pain signals, but that Joe was shunting the sensory inputs from my real body away while replacing them from the android’s senses.
"Connecting tin two seconds," Joe told .
I sighed, "Hello, Mr. Diaz, this is Tim, what shall we talk about today?" I tried to keep my voice friendly and light.
"Hello, Tim. Call Angelo, please. I just wanted to call you to thank you again for getting out of that prison in Colombia."
"You’re welco, Angelo, but I’m sure there’s more to this call than just that..."
"I was wondering if perhaps you’d let buy you dinner, so we can discuss the rescue further."
"Unfortunately, I expect to be quite busy for the next few days, and I don’t think I can find the ti."
"That’s too bad. Anything special going on?"
I chuckled and didn’t answer. The seconds ticked by until he broke the silence.
"So, I was interested to learn more about how you got us out. One minute we were in the prison in Colombia, the next we in your warehouse in Guatemala, then, the others started disappearing right before my eyes. It was quite a trick. I don’t think there’s a magician in Las Vegas who could have pulled off a disappearing trick like that. You have to tell how you did it."
"I see," I answered brusquely. "I’m sure any of those Vegas magicians will tell you a good magician never reveals his tricks."
"Actually," Diaz countered, "Penn & Teller will happily tell you how they do the trick and then fool you anyway."
"Good for them," I said, "Unfortunately, I’m an old-school magician who keeps his tricks close to the vest."
"Yeah, I thought you might say that. The reason I asked was that I was hoping I might be able to use your trick to get a couple friends out of similar situations in a couple of prisons elsewhere in the world."
"Ah, I see." I recalled the list of jailed CIA operatives we had put together before deciding to break Maldonado out of El Modelo. "Let guess. Three in Russia, two in China, one each in Belarus, Kuwait, Iran, and Myanmar."
He was silent for two seconds, before he replied, "Yes. How do you know that?"
"Magician’s secret..."
"Hmmm. Of course. So, if you know where they are, are you already panning their rescue?"
"No. I figured they were most likely arrested as spies and are probably guilty of that, no matter what the formal charges were for the public." I replied. "But, because we’re such good friends, perhaps I should reconsider."
"I’d like that."
"How much? I expect I might need so cover on the international front at so point. It would be nice if a such a good friend and his CIA bosses, could use their nation’s influence to delay or forestall any United Nations actions that might negatively impact ."
"Are you expecting such an action?"
"It’s a possibility."
"I don’t set UN policy for my country."
"I suspect your employer has so direct influence, though."
"Perhaps, but it would depend on the nature of whatever event caused such an action. Can you give so details that would help them make a decision?"
"Nope. But as an act of good faith, perhaps I could perform an encore of my magician’s trick. Nine lost sheep might suddenly reappear, for example."
"That would certainly be helpful to developing good will."
"I will look forward to the audience’s reaction, to help decide whether I should perform any future tricks."
"I can’t make any promises in the dark, but returning the lost sheep would certainly be well appreciated by your audience."
"I’ll see what I can do. It may take so ti."
"Of course, such things take so planning and preparation, I imagine?"
"Perhaps Penn and Teller would be willing to answer that question for you."
Diaz chuckled. "Do you have an estimate of when you might be performing this trick?"
"Not yet," I replied, "If your missing sheep do find their way ho, though, give a call to talk about the audience reaction."
"Of course."
"All right, Mr. Diaz, as I said, my ti is limited. It’s been a pleasure talking to you, but we’ve said what we need to say and I have other matters that need my attention. Until we talk again, good day."
I gave Joe the ntal order to cut the call.
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