We watched Rafael accept Maribel’s offer on the viewscreens. "Yes!" I yelled in victory. Her plan was working! I looked over at Dad. He seed, I don’t know, maybe a mix of angry and sad. I thought maybe he didn’t hear it right, "He accepted, Dad. That’s good right?"
He turned his head slowly to look at . "Yeah, it’s just great," he said his voice slow and not sounding at all pleased with this outco. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand grown-ups.
We continued watching and listening while keeping an eye on the situation map. Joe would pick up any troubleso activity there well before we could, but it felt reassuring to be able to track the movents of all our friends and enemies in the country.
Maribel opened one of the folders she had near her on the table. She glanced at it for a couple seconds, then handed it across the table to Rafael. "This is a speech that you will deliver on television within the hour. How fast can you morize it? We can use cue cards if you have to, but if it looks like you’re reading a heartfelt, passionate speech, it won’t have the sa impact."
I smiled, "I bet he gets it first try, right Joe?" I knew that Joe would implant the mory of the text directly in his head using one of the fully capable signal generators on one of the drones in the room with Maribel and the others. Since I had declared him a criminal and a ward of the state, we no longer required his consent or even his knowledge that we were going to interfere in his head. Joe said it would actually be part of his therapy. As Rafael read the words, Joe would reinforce the positive feelings associated with the altruistic parts of the ssages, he would dull anger directed at enemies and overlay it with compassion directed toward the victims of those sa enemies. He would implant the sa emotional overlay in the morized speech as it was placed in Rafael’s brain. This would be done without Rafael’s knowledge, since he was still unaware of the source or extent of our advanced technological capabilities. Joe said that when Rafael found how easily he morized the speech, he would implant a feeling that it was because the words resonated so deeply with him emotionally.
While these changes wouldn’t imdiately change Rafael’s character, in ti, the ’neural habits’ ford by decades of rage, anger, and pain would fade and be replaced with more positive ’neural habits.’ Joe had explained that every emotion and thought in the human brain creates a kind of pathway, making it easier to have the sa thought or emotion again. The effect is barely perceptible for a single occurrence, but over ti the pathway is reinforced by the sa thought or emotional reaction over and over. Eventually, the brain gets better and better at sending you down that pathway linking more and more thoughts and mories to that strengthened pathway. Joe said this was an oversimplification, but was helpful for to understand how conditioning worked. He said to think of every thought as practice for future thoughts, like practicing for basketball. If I made one practice free throw, I wouldn’t really notice any improvent. If I practiced for an hour every day, I’d get better and better, and the ball would be more and more likely to go into the hoop when I tried to shoot. That might even help the ball fall through the sa hoop when I tried set shots from other spots on the court. It would do little to help my passing or dribbling, however. In essence, Joe said, he would help Rafael practice being a good guy until that tendency was the easiest pathway for his thoughts and emotions to follow.
Rafael read the speech Maribel had handed him. He never looked up until he was finished. I couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light and the cara we were watching through or if there was a tear in his eye when he finally looked up from the speech at Maribel. He sighed, "I don’t know what I have done to make you think I am the man to say these words." It was a tear, it started rolling down his cheek. "I don’t know if I can be this man you want to be. I feel like this is a man my mother would want to be."
"Oh, that’s helpful. I can definitely use that," Joe told us as we watched from the Status Room.
Maribel reached her hand across the table. Rafael’s hand t hers and she held it tenderly. "That’s the man I saw in you from the beginning, Rafi. It’s the reason you’re sitting here right now."
There was a loud noise next to and I turned in ti to see Dad slap the arm of his chair and stand up suddenly. "I’m going for a walk," he declared then strode purposefully out of the room, leaving bewildered. A walk? Now?
Miguel, seated next to Rafael, was looking from the corners of his eyes toward the speech lying on the table in front of Rafael. He didn’t want to turn his head to make it obvious in case he wasn’t supposed to read it, but Rafael’s reaction had made him intensely curious.
"How quickly can you morize it?" Maribel asked Rafael. "We want to get this ssage out early before any other narrative gains traction."
Rafael looked at the sheet of paper again, a puzzled look on his face. He put the sheet back down on the table, looked directly at Maribel and delivered the speech word for word, complete with powerful, emotionally charged tones and stresses. Maribel’s face showed her surprise.
Miguel stared at Rafael, with his jaw hanging slack, his face a picture of shock and awe. "Oh, my God," he said.
Maribel regained her composure, "That was... perfect. It really seed as if you believed every word, like it ca from your heart. I need you to do that again, on cara. She looked at him, "but first we need to change your clothes."
He smiled at her, a hint of his old wickedness playing around his eyes, "We? Are you going to help change my clothes as well?"
Maribel blushed red and inhaled sharply. When she spoke, her tone was curt and crisp, "I’m going to pick them out. I trust that you’re capable of handling the rest by yourself. If you need help, I’m sure Miguel can help you with your buttons and zippers. Wait here." She stood and walked into another room before Rafael could react. Luis tried to stifle a chuckle.
Miguel seed ready to help his boss in any way needed, especially after that speech.
"She’s funny." Joe said to back in the Status Room.
Maribel went into her bedroom and walked over to the closet. As part of the preparation for Mom becoming Maribel for this part of the mission, he had implanted the knowledge that whatever she was looking for in the house, would be in the closet. We had built a LITV booth to look just like the inside of her closet. Whenever she opened that door, she would be pulling things out of the closet that we had added to the LITV booth here before sending it back to her house. It was effectively a never-ending source of whatever she needed and we could produce with a fabrication ch here at headquarters.
A neat set of clothes lay folded on a shelf. She lifted them carefully, closed the closet door, and returned to the dining room. She placed them on the table and motioned toward the bathroom door. "Get changed in there."
Rafael glanced at the clothes, then looked up at Maribel, eting her gaze directly, "I’m sorry about that remark, it was impolite..."
Before she could blush again, Maribel said "Go get dressed," and sat down, opened a folder, and intently studied the papers inside. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt like that whole conversation would have made Dad mad again, if he were still here to watch it. Maybe it was a good thing he went for a walk.
A few monts later, Rafael erged from the bathroom. He wore charcoal gray pants, with a stylish black leather belt. His shirt was white with thin vertical stripes in dark blue. The extra wide collar was bright blue and red as was the top of the chest pocket, and the vertical button area down the front. The cuffs of the sleeves were folded back to reveal the sa blue and red pattern on the exposed underside. It was a mix of traditional and modern clothing. The design and color of the shirt were quite traditional, while the addition of a breast pocket and the machine-stitching belied its modernity.
Rafael stood with arms outstretched, "Well, how do I look?"
"Turn," Maribel directed. Rafael spun slowly in place. Raising one eyebrow at Maribel as he finished, facing her again. "Good, we want to emphasize your Mayan ancestry and respect for old traditions, relying on your diction and speech to convey your business and political acun. Rember, you must show heartfelt compassion while your manner implies controlled power. Under no circumstances lose your temper or make overt threats... and for goodness sake, try not to cry like a baby on cara," she smiled, a playful glint in her eye.
Miguel chuckled. Rafael eyed him dangerously. He stopped imdiately.
Maribel had used the ti while Rafael was changing to change her clothes as well. She was wearing a modest blouse of deep red and an ankle-length black skirt with a stripe of red around the hem. A black and red braided waistband gathered the top of the skirt.
"Ok, do you want to review before we start the filming?" Maribel asked.
"No, I’m ready," Rafael answered confidently. "You look amazing, by the way."
Maribel blushed again, "This is just a modern twist on Peruvian traditional clothing. I don’t want people to think I am trying to be Mayan, but I do want it clear that I respect the old traditions of my people, as well."
Luis, interrupted, "If we are finished discussing fashion, perhaps we can get started?"
"Yes, let’s go change the world with a speech," Rafael smiled playfully.
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