Rollback by Robert J. Sawyer Read Free Book Online Page A

everyone into the Collective, I think, is that it's the only safe path. You don't have to worry about terrorists, or mad scientists, if you all think with one mind. Of course, if you do that, you might even lose any notion that there could be other individuals out there. It might never occur to you to even try to contact somebody else, because the whole notion of 'somebody else' has become foreign to your way of thinking. That could explain the failure of SETI. And then if you did encounter another form of intelligent life, perhaps by chance, you'd do exactly what the Borg did: absorb it, because that's the only way you can be sure it'll never hurt you."
    "Gee, that's almost more depressing than thinking there are no aliens at all."
    "There's another solution, too," said Don. "Absolute totalitarianism. Everyone's still got free will, but they're constrained from doing anything with it. Because all it takes is one crazy person and a pile of antimatter, and—kablooie!—the whole stinking planet is gone."
    A car coming toward them beeped its horn twice. He looked up and saw Julie Fein driving by and waving. They waved back.
    "That's not much better than the Borg scenario," Sarah said. "Even so, it's so depressing not to have detected anything. I mean, when we first started pointing our radio telescopes at the sky, we thought we'd pick up tons of signals from aliens, and, instead, in all that time—almost fifty years now—-not a peep."
    "Well, fifty years isn't that long," he said, trying now to console her.
    Sarah was looking off into the distance. "No, of course not," she said. "Just most of a lifetime."
 

-- Chapter 8 --

    Carl, the elder of Don and Sarah's two children, was known for his theatrics, so Don was grateful that he didn't spurt coffee all over the table. Still, after swallowing, he managed to exclaim "You're going to do what?" with vigor worthy of a sitcom. His wife Angela was seated next to him. Percy and Cassie—in full, Perseus and Cassiopeia, and, yes, Grandma had suggested the names—had been dispatched to watch a movie in Carl and Angela's basement.
    "We're going to be rejuvenated," repeated Sarah, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
    "But that costs—I don't know," said Carl, looking at Angela, as if she should be able to instantly supply the figure. When she didn't, he said, "That costs billions and billions."
    Don saw his wife smile. People sometimes thought their son had been named for Carl Sagan, but he wasn't. Rather, he was named for his mother's father.
    "Yes, it does," said Sarah. "But we're not paying for it. Cody McGavin is."
    "You know Cody McGavin?" said Angela, her tone the same as it would have been if Sarah had claimed to know the Pope.
    "Not until last week. But he knew of me. He funds a lot of SETI research." She shrugged a little. "One of his causes."
    "And he's willing to pay to have you rejuvenated?" asked Carl, sounding skeptical.
    Sarah nodded. "And your father, too." She recounted their meeting with McGavin. Angela stared in open-mouth wonder; she had mostly only known her mother-in-law as a little old lady, not—as the news-sites kept calling her—"the Grand Old Woman of SETI."
    "But, even if it's all paid for," said Carl, "no one knows what the long-term effects of—of—what do they call it?"
    "A rollback," said Don.
    "Right. No one knows the long-term effects of a rollback."
    "That's what everyone says about everything new," said Sarah. "No one knew what the long-term effects of low-carb dieting would be, but look at your father. He's been on a low-carb diet for forty years now, and it's kept his weight, cholesterol, blood pressure, and blood sugar all normal."
    Don was embarrassed to have this brought up; he wasn't sure that Angela knew that he used to be fat. He'd started putting on weight during his Ryerson years, and, by the time he was in his early forties, he'd reached 240 pounds—way too much for his narrow-shouldered five-foot-ten frame. But