Hands went up again and Dresner pointed.

“Sleep function?”

“Did I forget to talk about that?” A sly smile spread across his face. “I think some of you are probably aware of the partnership DI has with the sleep research center at Stanford. And with the success we’ve had in creating a non-pharmaceutical sleep aid that works by manipulating brain waves. Up until now, the machine needed to deliver the therapy’s been about the size of a small car, which has left us in a position where we can only provide inpatient care to people with severe disorders. What we needed was a more practical hardware platform and it turns out that the Merge is perfect. I’m sixty-seven years old and I can tell you that I now sleep like I did when I was twelve.”

Again, Smith took advantage of the other audience members’ obsession with instant communication, and this time it worked. He stood as his distracted seatmates passed the microphone across.

LayerCake immediately tagged him with his name and rank, as well as designating him a medical doctor. For a man who went out of his way to avoid the spotlight, it was a bit disturbing. On the other hand, he was grateful as hell that the judgment system was turned off. That would definitely cross the line into too much information.

“You seem to be able to mentally manipulate the interface’s icons. Could this be used to control artificial limbs? And—kind of unrelated—could the Merge be used to cure blindness?”

“Excellent questions!” Dresner said, sounding genuinely excited that someone was interested in aspects of his invention that didn’t relate to the billions of dollars it would inevitably rake in. “The short answer on eyesight is yes, absolutely. Assuming normal brain function, two small cameras built into a pair of glasses can transmit excellent binocular vision. Of course, we’ll be providing those units free of charge to people in need. With regard to the icons and prosthetics: It’s something we’re working on. Output has proved to be a tougher problem than input, unfortunately. Control of the icons is still fairly rudimentary—opening, closing, scrolling, and simple selection. So this is going to be something that happens, but on a five- or ten-year horizon.”

Hands shot up again, but he waved them off. “Look over the manual and if anything is unclear let us know so we can fix it. Or better yet, buy a Merge next week and try it for yourself.”

7

Khost Province
Afghanistan

YOU! I KNEW IT.”

Randi flashed her most innocent smile as Dr. Peter Mailen squinted menacingly at her.

He’d just celebrated his fiftieth birthday but still looked pretty good, with thick, sandy hair and a mustache that he thought made him look like Magnum PI. That probably also explained the Hawaiian shirt peeking from beneath a canvas apron that had faded to the same color gray as the tile walls, but lacked the scattered bullet holes.

“Took you long enough,” Randi said. “Did they row you over in a dinghy?”