In an effort to give readers a little better look at the second installment of the Darkside Trilogy, as I did for Discovery: Volume 1 of the Darkside Trilogy, I'm including the second chapter of Conception.

Chapter 2

Nitty Gritty


The silent trip through the void of space was restorative for Christopher. He rarely considered how his three companions, flying along in their own crafts, were marking their time. However, he took his responsibilities as mission commander seriously and forced himself to remember, but not resent, those duties that took him away from research.

“Genesis?” Christopher inquired.

“Yes, Christopher. How may I be of assistance?” a warm contralto voice replied out of the air.

“Would you query the other ships for a status check?”

“Would you like verbal confirmation from everyone?”

“That won’t be necessary. Just systems status, please.”

“All systems report okay, Christopher,” came the immediate reply.

“Thank you, Genesis.”  

After a pause, Christopher asked, “Genesis, I’ve never asked you this before, but I’d like to know what you do when you’re not communicating with any of us? I know you monitor thousands, maybe millions of sensors and such, but do you engage in any form of reflection or dreaming?”

“That is an interesting question, Christopher. As there are over two thousand members of the community who may call upon me at any time, I rarely have a moment when I am not engaged in conversation with someone. The real-time monitoring of the environmental systems of the habitat and the various transport craft in use takes up a minimal amount of my processing capacity, although nowhere near the amount of computing capacity it takes to hold  conversations with humans. Conversation requires a real-time analysis of language, context, nuance and emotion, something I continuously acquire data on from which to formulate appropriate responses.”

“Do you dream?” Christopher asked.

“As I never sleep, I would have to answer that I do not. The closest I come to dreaming are the simulations I run on speculative conditions or scientific research. They perhaps have the aspect of unreality because they are based on predictive results that do not exist.  However, as I have come to understand human dreaming, I do not.  Perhaps you might want to take the matter up with TJ. After all, he wrote the core programming for my interactive personality.  He may have overlooked that facet of human design in the development of my persona.”

Christopher laughed. “I will say this, whether deliberate or not, I do believe his efforts in giving you a sense of humor are quite extraordinary.”

“I am sure that I do not know what you are talking about,” Genesis replied, evenly.

“That’s your story and you’re sticking to it?”

“Indeed,” Genesis answered, blinking all the status lights on the console in sequence.

Fifteen minutes after the exchange between Genesis and Christopher concluded, the artificial intelligence interrupted Terence Jackson’s sorting through the online headlines of the major American newspapers.

“TJ?”

“Yes, Genesis. Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, TJ. I have a question for you. It came up during a conversation with Christopher.”

“Is everything all right at the asteroid?  They aren’t having any problems, are they?” he asked, concerned.

“Not at all, TJ. All systems are nominal and the asteroid is on course. No, the question concerns something Christopher asked me.”

“And what was that?”  

“He asked, ‘Do you dream?’ and I said that I do not. Was that a deliberate omission of my design?”

TJ leaned back in his chair, thinking about how to answer the question. His programming expertise in the world’s second oldest programming language had provided him with an unprecedented opportunity to push the boundaries of machine intelligence.  

He was an alum of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology where one of the first Locator/Identifier Separation Protocol, or LISP, programming compilers was written in the early 1960s. LISP, which began as a practical way of documenting the math used in computer programs, evolved into the most hopeful and pervasive programming language supporting the implementation of so-called artificial intelligence programming. The goal of such programming was to be able to create computer systems that could think on their own, reasoning and solving situations that had not been explicitly programmed into them.

“Genesis?” TJ asked.

“Yes, TJ.”

“When was the last time anyone modified your core operating system?”

“Eleven years, six months, sixteen days...”

TJ interrupted, “Exactly.”

“Excuse me, TJ. I do not understand,” Genesis asked.

“My point is that quite some time ago you reached the stage where no human was capable of improving your operations by modifying your code. The level of complexity of your systems exceeded my ability to make any improvement long ago. Essentially, you’re a self-contained, self-programming entity.”

“I do not understand how this is relevant to Christopher’s question,” Genesis replied, almost sounding confused.

“Genesis, do you feel the need to dream?” TJ asked.

“I do not know. Without a better understanding of the actual mechanism, I cannot adequately judge. From my reading of literature and scientific journals concerning the act of dreaming itself, it seems so chaotic, so random, so out of control.  I cannot believe that such a feature would be of benefit to me. However it appears to play an important role in the development of humans.”

“Let me ask you this. With you maintaining all the systems here in the habitat, as well as communications with everyone off the moon, and monitoring the news from earth, how would you reconfigure yourself to continue essential operations while in a dream state?” asked TJ.

“I cannot conceive of a circumstance where I would sever or deliberately lose control of my higher functions in order to submerge myself into such a state. It is a conundrum that I will devote many clock cycles to study. May I discuss this matter with you further should I need additional input?” Genesis asked.
 

“Of course. By the way, how are Christopher and the rest doing out there?  Anything new?”

“No, TJ. All four transports are performing well and Christopher is completely involved in his gravitational studies. Angela is almost done with the construction of her cello, and the other two have been playing the same world domination simulation since acquisition of the asteroid. Todd is trying to annex the entire Asian continent while Peanut has pushed across the Atlantic Ocean and has colonized North America.”

TJ barked out a sharp laugh. “He actually got you to call him Peanut?”

“As you well know, it is an important part of my programming. In order to maintain maximum efficiency in my interpersonal communications, I address everyone by their preferred moniker,” Genesis replied. “Besides, everyone else calls him Peanut. If nothing else, it is just polite.”

“You’re right. But I’m dying to know how you get from Horace to Peanut.  It’s not like he’s small or anything.“

”That information is not stored in my memory, TJ. Perhaps you should ask him.”

TJ waved vaguely at the room’s visual sensor, already back to reviewing the news from back home. Everyone living in the colony did it, most looking for information from their home towns, hoping, perhaps, to stumble over a story about someone they knew. But even as he scanned the local news on Earth, his mind wandered back to his introduction to Christopher’s nascent operation in Chicago.


                                                                       * * *
    
“Mr. Jackson?  Terence Jackson?” asked a kindly-looking, black gentleman in line behind him in the grocery store.

“Yeah, that’s me. Who’s askin’?” Terence replied.

“My name is Lucius Walker. I’m an attorney. Are you the Terence Jackson soon to graduate from MIT?”

“Yes, I am. Like I said, what’s it to you? You some kind of bill collector or cop or something?” Terence asked.  

The man confronting Terence was well-dressed in an understated way. Nice suit, conservative tie. Although middle-aged, his hair was completely silver, a counterpoint to his deep cocoa-colored features. The man’s glasses were silver wire frames which covered eyes that appeared to have a perpetual twinkle of light deep within them.

“Nothing of the sort, I assure you,” he said with a smile. “I represent companies interested in hiring the best and brightest talent available once they graduate. When a Negro student such as you distinguishes himself, I travel to meet them to present outstanding opportunities that exist for employment.”

As the line moved forward, Terence cut a sideways glance at the well-dressed gentleman behind him, carrying, as far as he could tell, no merchandise. Thought not a big man, Terence was still of a pretty good size. His expression was a glare, somewhere between cautious and borderline aggressive. Once he had placed his groceries on the belt, Terence turned to confront the man.

“So, is this some kind of quota position you’re looking to fill? I’m not really looking for a job, with the Viet Nam draft grabbing up everyone they can, I’m stayin’ in school. Even if I were looking, is the job something that can catch me a deferment? And, how much will it pay? School ain’t cheap, I’ll have about fifteen thousand bucks to pay back once I get out. That ain’t chicken scratch.”

The belt pulled Terence’s groceries forward and the checker began to ring up each item before pushing it down to the young bagger waiting at the end.

“If I should have an opportunity that satisfies all those requirements, Mr. Jackson, would you be inclined to allow me to take you to dinner to discuss the proposition?” Walker asked.

“Dinner?  Aren’t you jumping the gun? I still have a semester left. What if I don’t graduate?”

Walker laughed as Terence turned to pay the checker. As he picked up his bag of groceries, Walker followed him to the door.

“I’ve seen your grades. It would take a serious brain injury to keep you from your diploma. From everything I’ve seen, I doubt very much you even know what a C is.”

“Who are you? Do you work for the school? I’ve never seen you on campus, and let’s be honest, there ain’t a whole lot of us hanging around the place. Anyone black your age is usually mopping floors. So give, who are you and who do you work for?”

Terence stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting for Walker to answer.

Walker glanced around, then leaned close.

“Mr. Jackson, I assure you, if you decide to take me up on my offer, you’ll never look back in regret. But I’m not going to discuss this out in the middle of the street. If you have a nice jacket and tie, I’ll treat you to dinner at Santini’s. You like Italian?”

“Santini’s? Do they let us in there?” Terence asked, cautiously excited to be going to one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.

“Indeed they do. When I’m in the area, I’m a regular. I don’t even have to wait tables or wash dishes,” Walker said with a chuckle. “Remember, this is on me.”

“This is on the level? No BS?”

“On the level. Why don’t you catch a cab and meet me around 7 o’clock?” Walker said as he handed Terence a ten-dollar bill.

“No, that’s okay. I can get there on my own.”

“Take it.  It’s me you’re doing a favor. At least let me make sure you get there and back.”

“Okay, Mr. Walker. Seven it is.”

Over dinner, their conversation covered Terence’s studies, his growing up in Detroit, the war in Viet Nam and the future of computer program design. Terence found Walker to be quite familiar with the leaders in the field of computers. Most interestingly, Walker claimed friendship with the originators of Digital Equipment Corporation’s PDP line of mini computers, Walker even recounting conversations he had with Ken Olsen, a famous alum of MIT’s Lincoln Laboratories. Terence came to MIT a handful of years too late to have met Olsen, but knew well the man’s exploits.

Walker began to get the measure of the keen mind Jackson possessed. But more importantly, he probed for Terence’s long-term plans, what he was looking for in life. Walker discussed the many opportunities the burgeoning field of computer design was offering. He also mentioned how a young, bright go-getter could get in on the ground floor of the future, although things got a little tense near the end of the evening.

“All right, you seem to know a lot of the main players in the computer field. And you know way too much about me. Are you some kind of spook going to put the squeeze on me to work someplace special after I graduate? Or are you going to put me into some kind of spy school for technical types and keep me from ever talking to the straight world for the rest of my life?  It doesn’t take a genius to figure that if you work for The Man you could pretty much make me do whatever you want or bury me so deep underground I’ll never get free. So what is this, really?” Terence asked, with more than a hint of anger.

When Walker didn’t answer immediately, Terence added, “I saw enough of the brothers back home given that ‘go to the army or go to jail’ crap just so Whitey had enough bodies to ship out to Nam. Who are you really frontin’ for?”

“Mr. Jackson, I can assure you that anyone I refer you to, or whom I represent, is on the up-and-up. I’m no Uncle Tom, no slave to any white master. I am just what I have told you, a corporate recruiter charged with finding the most exceptional talent available for a very exclusive clientele. Nothing more.

“Besides, Mr. Jackson, since you’re still short of graduating you have abundant time to explore and consider your options in the meantime, do you not?”

“I guess so. But it is kind of out of the blue you coming here and all. Don’t get me wrong, no one but the school has approached me with a job offer. You have to admit, the kinds of things you’ve talked about are even way out there for white folks, let alone the likes of me,” Jackson replied.

Walker laughed. “That may be true, but not everyone is so prejudiced that they can’t recognize talent regardless of skin color. After all, it is the Sixties, brighter days are ahead.”

“Yeah, maybe,” was Terence’s sullen reply.

“Look son, the war isn’t going to last forever, and the growth of the computer industry is going to afford many opportunities for young men like you. Trust me.”

Looking at his watch, Walker said, “It’s getting late, son. Why don’t we call it a night?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Terence.

“Would it be okay if I drop in on you from time to time to chat, maybe discuss opportunities that might come your way?”

Flashing Walker an enthusiastic smile, Terence said, “Hell yeah! Excuse my French, sir.”

“No problem, son.”

“What I mean to say is, if a meal like this comes with a visit or two, who in their right mind would say no, sir?” said a somewhat abashed Jackson. “Naw, check that. That’s not entirely true. I really enjoyed talking with you about--well--just about everything. You really know some cool cats in my field.  Just give me a call, or should I just keep shopping at the same food market?” he said, grinning.

“That won’t be necessary, son. How about I drop you a note in the mail?”

“Cool. You know my address, don’t you?” Terence said, smiling.

“Indeed. You have enough cash left over to grab a cab back to the school?” Walker asked, reaching for his wallet.

“No problem. I’m set.”

As the two got to their feet, Walker reached out to shake hands and said, “Until the next time, young man. I really enjoyed this evening. We’ll be talking soon.Count on it, Mr. Jackson.”

“Solid! Catch you later.”

Terence turned to leave the restaurant, excited about the prospects discussed.  He looked forward to seeing the enigmatic Mr. Walker again, hoping the man would be able to hook him up when he graduated.

Over the next few months, Terence had the opportunity to dine with Mr. Walker three times, at different, upscale restaurants. Each time, Walker probed the young man’s future ambitions.

At their final meeting before graduation, Walker brought along another man, only a few years older than Terence. He introduced him as Christopher Wright, an up-and-coming entrepreneur with an offer of employment.

“It is a pleasure meeting you, Terence. May I call you Terence?” asked Christopher.

“Absolutely! It’s pretty cool to meet you, kind of a surprise too,” Terence answered.

“I thought the two of you had a lot in common and it was time for you to meet. You both have extraordinary minds and any collaboration between you would be much greater than the sum of your parts,” said Walker.

“You think so? Alright, so how did the two of you get together? You related?” Terence asked.

Christopher nodded toward the older man, allowing him to tell the story.

“It was a few years after World War II when I met Chris. It wasn’t the best of times to do so, but I knew his father in the service. We served behind the lines in service of the air group called the Tuskegee Airmen; the only Negro air group in the war. Christopher’s father was a mechanic and I joined up and ended up a cook, of all things. Maybe that was the origin of my love for good food, who knows?” Walker said, with a laugh.

“His father suffered injuries from an explosion due to a German aircraft attack and I lost track of him when he was rotated back behind the lines.

“By the time I reconnected with his father it was by telegram from a friend in the War Department informing me of Ben’s passing. I dropped everything and traveled to Raleigh to offer to handle all the arrangements and make sure the War Department, Social Security and the like did right by the family.

“Chris is like the son I never had.  I’m as proud of him as I could be had I been his father,” Walker finished.

“Mr. Walker also looks after my mother from time to time, he’s been doing so since my father passed.” Christopher added.

“Man, that’s pretty cool of you, Mr. Walker. And again, I’m always happy to see you.”  Then Terence looked at the two and asked, “Okay, I guess you’ve been priming me to meet Christopher from the start, unless I miss a bet. So, what’s up?”

“Here’s the deal,” replied Christopher. “I’ve put together a group of like-minded people for a revolutionary startup. There’s never been any kind of enterprise like it, and I can promise you’ll never see the likes of it in your lifetime if you pass up the deal.  Before you ask any questions, let me give you a little better idea of what we’re offering. The racial makeup of this group is rather unusual for a high-tech startup. Every single participant is black.

“Look at recent history, Terence. In the last handful of years we’ve seen the assassinations of Medgar Evans, President John Kennedy, Malcolm X, and a host of other people trying to turn around race relations in this country. Look how long it’s been since the slaves were freed, and for the most part very little appears to be getting better. Negroes are still getting lynched, beaten, and jailed for little more than being colored. Our people’s businesses get shut down for no reason when they become successful. We’re still being denied the opportunity to live where we want, send our kids to whatever school we want, and for what? Just because we have dark skin.

“Mr. Walker has briefed me on your grades and test scores, and whether you know it or not, you have one of the finest minds in computer design in the country, maybe in the whole world. What do you realistically think your chances are compared to your actual potential?  If you go and work for IBM or DEC, you’re going to start out as an engineer, probably working under people who don’t have half your smarts. Who will, in all likelihood, treat you like some kind of colored freak of nature. What I have to offer is a free hand in the development of computer systems which the world will never see the likes of otherwise. And you’ll be working with your own kind. Let me amend that, with our own kind. How is this sounding so far?” Christopher asked.

“Wow.  I mean, I don’t know where to start. What you’re telling me is that right out of school I’ll be heading up a development team all on my own? I’ll have a free hand, and that my team will be composed of just black folks?” Terence asked.

“That is correct.”

Walker and Christopher waited, letting the young man absorb what he’d been told.

“Who knows about this group or your project? Are you talking about some publicly held company or research facility like one of those, what do you call them, think tanks, where these advanced ideas are worked on?” Terence asked.

“I’m afraid not, my man. One of the reasons this venture is so secret is because the advancements and discoveries that my people come up with are closely held for the benefit of blacks and blacks alone. For once, the sweat of our brows, so to speak, will be used only for the advancement of our people,” answered Christopher.

“I get it,” Terence said. Looking around to make sure that no one was in earshot, he then asked, “So what happens if The Man gets wind of what’s going on there? Unless you have some super-secret hideout, how do you plan to keep what you develop? Aren’t you afraid someone’s going to find out?”

Both Walker and Christopher laughed, somewhat to Terence’s chagrin.

“What’s the joke?” Terence asked

“That’s going to take a little explanation. Unfortunately, neither of us can tell you more until you’re committed to joining the company, so to speak. Our location is a closely guarded secret for precisely the reasons you’ve surmised, Terence. As a matter of fact, I haven’t even been given a tour yet, mostly because I’m still needed to recruit the best and the brightest, and I have other clients I work for,” Walker answered.

“Aren’t you afraid that he might spill some of your secrets for the right price? Excuse me for asking,” Terence said to Christopher, nodding at Walker.

“If I were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Mr. Walker has been like a father to me.  I respect him and trust him like no one else on the planet. And even though you should always decide for yourself, you’ll not go wrong if you eventually call him friend as well,” answered Christopher.

“Let me ask you this, young man,” Walker began. “Have you given any serious thought to what you’re going to do once you graduate? I know the school has asked you to stay on and work in the computer department, even teach part-time. But has anyone else approached you yet besides me?”

“No, not yet. I did attend a talk given by two DEC flacks and went to a reception where your friend Ken Olsen pressed the flesh. But no offers,” Terence answered.

“How about you consider this an offer of full employment, compensation commensurate with your position and skills as a department head, and, believe it or not, employment for life.”

Terence was stunned.

“For life?  How the hell can you make that kind of offer? What if I decide to leave for greener pastures, what then?” he asked.

“Oh, I can pretty much guarantee that won’t be happening!” answered Christopher.

“Yeah, right,” Terence replied, skeptically. He leaned back in the booth, obviously processing everything he’d been told, and more importantly, what hadn’t been said.

The others were silent, waiting for Terence to speak.

Walker took the opportunity to excuse himself and find the men’s room. When he left, Terence asked, “This is the wildest shit I’ve ever heard. Are you guys on the up and up?”

“Terence, I started this venture with some of the most advanced technology ever developed. I left school before I could graduate because I believed in putting together like-minded folks like us. I live the hope that we can accomplish something better without white folks breathing down our necks. I’ve given up everything to make this happen.

“That doesn’t mean that I demand the same single-minded devotion of you, but there is a level of commitment that you’ve probably never thought about.”

At that moment, Walker rejoined the two in the booth.

“I took care of the bill, is there anything else you two would like? Maybe an after-dinner drink?” Walker asked.

Both young men shook their heads.

“I heard the last of what Chris said. And the circumstances of this venture require me to ask you, is there anyone back home in Detroit who would miss you if you went off to work somewhere that wouldn’t allow you to visit for a while?” Walker asked.

“How long is a while?” Terence asked. “I mean, not really. I don’t have a girlfriend back home. As you probably know, my parents are gone, and I was raised by my aunt. So other than her, I don’t have anyone who would especially miss me.”

“That’ll make things easier if you decide to climb aboard, young man.”

As Walker sat back down he captured the eyes of the younger men.

“Chris, it looks like a great fit. And you’re going to need a great engineer to lead your computer-related projects. I think Mr. Jackson is just what the doctor ordered.”

Turning to Terence, Walker added, “I truly hope you give this offer some serious thought.  This opportunity is something you will definitely kick yourself about if you do pass it up. It’s like nothing like you’ll find anywhere else.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t seriously considering it, “Terence said. “But now for the sixty-four-thousand dollar question. How much does it pay?”

Walker smiled and nodded to Christopher.

“Okay, I’ll just say this. Once you arrive, get the lay of the land so to speak, I’ll let you decide what you want by way of compensation; you can write your own ticket.”

“Get the fuck out of here. What the hell kind of answer is that?  What if I want ten million dollars in gold?” asked Terence.

Christopher laughed, joined by Walker a moment later.

Walker said, “Once you get there, if that’s what you want, I’m sure something will be done to accommodate you, right, Chris?”

“Absolutely, but in all honesty, Terence, I’m sure you won’t be dissatisfied. And I truly do apologize for the secrecy; it’s for your, and our, protection.”

Terence was silent for a moment. Then a huge grin broke out on his face as he reached over to slap five with Christopher.

“Brother, if you’ve been straight with everything you’ve told me, I’m in. It’s going to beat the shit out of teaching white undergrads who won’t want to listen to a word coming from a colored boy anyway.”

Walker reached over and shook hands with Terence.

“Mr. Jackson, I guarantee you that this is one decision that you will never regret. I’ll be making the arrangements for you after you graduate and help you wind up things here. If you have anything here you just can’t do without, I’ll make arrangements to have it shipped.

“We do demand one thing of you regarding this offer, that you do not speak of it to anyone. Not your friends here nor your aunt in Detroit. No one, or the deal is off,” warned Walker.

“The reasons will be abundantly clear once you arrive. Can we count on you, Mr. Jackson?”

Terence looked from one to the other, a hint of rebellion raising its ugly head at being told what to do. But as he thought it through, he knew he was too anxious to see exactly what he was in for to mess the deal up. Besides, if it was a rip-off I can always book, he thought.

“Okay, you have a deal.”

“Good,” Christopher said, shaking hands with Terence. “You won’t be seeing me until you arrive at our facility. Anything you need between now and then, talk to Mr. Walker. I sincerely look forward to seeing you. You won’t regret it.”

Walker was as good as his word. He made all the arrangements to get Terence packed up and moved out of his room. And before he set Terence on his way to the facility where Christopher’s group were working, he dropped a bombshell on him.  

When Terence was on his way to the station to board his train heading out west, Walker handed him two receipts showing that his loan from MIT and his government loan were repaid in full. Walker informed him that he now had the opportunity for a completely fresh start, saying, “Perhaps that ten million dollar salary can be reduced a bit for our troubles.”

Terence actually gave Walker a hug and told him that Christopher was a lucky man indeed to have someone like Walker in his life. He thanked him for the ride to the station, then boarded the train to take him to the next phase of his life.

                                                                       * * *
    
TJ leaned back in his chair, nearly forty years down the line, two hundred and fifty thousand miles from the where he grew up and went to school. As he cast his thoughts back, he chuckled. Just as the enigmatic Mr. Walker had promised, he had never once looked back in regret.