Sycamore (Near-Future Dystopia) by Craig A. Falconer Read Free Book Online

Jacobs, but as far as I can tell there is no tangible design at all. I gather you don’t like the idea of carrying a bulky smartphone around everywhere and I’m not entirely inimical to your goals. But while it’s one thing to criticise incremental decreases in size and weight, it’s quite another to suggest that we can eliminate the device altogether. With no supporting evidence, why are you so confident that we can?”
    “Once we do away with a smartphone’s screen and the battery power needed to light it, you’d be surprised at how little we're left with. Ribbons connecting components to the screen, speakers, the battery, a SIM slot, a case that has to be tough enough to survive a fall… all unnecessary. Give me the processor and keep the rest.”
    Amos seemed satisfied with the answer and Kurt was pleased with his question. While the other judges were wasting everyone’s time with baseless hypothetical concerns, the man who called the shots was wondering whether the chip could actually function at the suggested size. He liked it.
    Red didn’t, and he pressed further. “I’m sorry, but no. This is all pure speculation and counter to the spirit of a contest intended to reward feasible innovation.”
    “Well I’m not sorry,” Kurt snapped, pointing at the naysayer, “but no to you, too. None of this technology is speculative. The only speculation I offer is that my chip will be in every left hand in the country within twelve months.”
    By far the youngest man in the front row, the well-groomed but snakelike creature Kurt recognised all too well as Terrance ‘Minter’ Minion, took joy in dismissing this prediction out of hand. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kurt. The internet, MP3 players and just about everything else took years to catch on. Often the better part of a decade.”
    “This isn’t like that,” Kurt insisted. “This is something everyone will buy straight away. It’s like if we were fish and someone came up with shark repellent — we would all buy it.”
    “So you’re pitching shark repellent?” Minion made no effort to hide his disdain.
    “I’m pitching the future of the human race: a chip that will change the world while it’s taking it over. If Sycamore doesn’t want a piece of that, fine. Have fun missing out.”
    Amos tried to restore some civility to the proceedings. “Mr Jacobs, please compose yourself. The ability to handle criticism and field difficult questions is an important one.”
    “These aren’t difficult questions, though, they’re stupid questions! And it’s baseless cynicism, not criticism. People always say it can’t be done. If I had told you I could stream video from the Lenses, they would have said it. In fact, they did. Someone said it was impossible because to them it was. But the person who says it can’t be done should never interrupt the person who’s doing it right now.
    “I understand the need for skepticism but it has to be founded in reason rather than fear. People fear progress because they don’t know what it means. It questions their assumptions. They worry that aiming for more somehow means that things aren’t good enough as they are... that they aren’t good enough as they are. But good enough for what? Good enough for today isn’t the same as good enough for tomorrow. We can’t judge ourselves by the standards of the past, and tomorrow today will be yesterday. Today’s standards won’t cut it tomorrow, so why do we let them cut it today?
    “It’s usually just one person,” Kurt continued. “One person has an idea and is shouted down by the likes of your friends here. But the creator can’t hear them; he can’t afford to listen. Sometimes there are two creators. Little over a century ago, men of science wrote entire volumes decrying the folly of attempts to create a heavier-than-air flying machine.”
    “So?” asked Amos, confused by Kurt’s tangent.
    “So I guess the Wright Brothers didn’t read those books. That’s the