On the fifteenth anniversary of the events in Idaho that many point to as the dawn of our current age, there are still so many unanswered questions that the scientists, national security professionals, and ethicists assembled here continue wrestling with. The genetically engineered super soldiers, popularly referred to as ‘grendels’ now reside in hidden communities in the mountain Northwest. Their existence is essentially invisible, but apparently thriving, almost certainly with assistance from unknown sources. The collaborations with the U.S. military, though classified, are known in sufficient detail from public sources that we have an entire track exploring current research on their lifestyle, culture, and the impact on popular discourse, including the adverse effects of related conspiracy theories. The interrelated topic of the emergence of Homo iunctus, often referred to as ‘HI’ or ‘The Entity’, provides the other pillar of our agenda. Piecing together the scant details around the members of the collective, their recruitment and training, the affiliation with the now defunct McJames Institute, and their role in the grendel’s creation and release, provide the balance of our presentations. Beyond the basic facts of their existence in the small groups they call ‘ganglia’, and the connection between them that results in the emergent intelligence of the groupmind, we still struggle to craft a coherent narrative. We know it represents a kind of distributed intelligence, both in space and time, and that it somehow leverages the prodigious savant capabilities of individuals who in the past were considered disabled. We’re hoping our presenters will shed additional light on this fascinating topic.  New this year are additional presentations on the similarities between recent progress in AI systems and theories of Entity cognition.

We apologize again for the additional security precautions in the facility. Our national security partners assure us they are as necessary as they are inconvenient. They will not affect the networking cocktail hour this evening after the last plenary session, so we look forward to seeing everyone there.

– Introductory Remarks from the Fifth Joint Symposia on Bioethics and the National Security Consequences of Bioengineering, Georgetown University

Michelle studied the Departures screen, checking her gate one more time, estimating connections, travel time, how much longer it would take to get back to Bina. She was relieved to see the latest weather-related radiation level warnings were far from their Pacific Northwest home. She rubbed her burning eyes. One more switch, the train, then the final leg back west back to her daughter.

Despite the refreshing change of pace moving independently out in the world again, leaving Bina alone for this long was too stressful. Her hopscotching itinerary, once necessary primarily because of the war, fallout, and civil unrest, was now indispensable for eluding trackers. She stifled a yawn. The naps on the airplanes weren’t enough. She looked forward to the long train ride so she could finally sleep. 

She resisted the urge to message Bina, and instead rechecked her credentials, silently rehearsing the details of her current identity, her third change, and hopefully, the second to last of this journey. As she passed yet another camera, she gently rubbed the edge of the facial prostheses to relieve the incessant low grade irritation from the adhesive. 

The trip was a modest success, but still puzzling. Her conversation with her HI contact focused mostly on logistics, working out schedules, comms, and finances. Instead of the usual concerns about their whereabouts and resuming Bina’s training, they posed questions about Adam, and it still wasn’t clear who initiated the meeting, and why the urgency of the request.

Where is Adam?

What is he working on?

How is Adam doing?

Michelle hadn’t known Adam’s location for almost two years, another security precaution, and a source of turmoil for Bina, who loved her uncle very much. The fact that the groupmind, of which her brother was a part, didn’t have complete knowledge about one of its own members was perplexing, and only added to her own concerns about his unresponsiveness to her own contact attempts.

The big fight with Bina just before she left was also about Adam. Was there a connection? Superficially, it seemed like just a coincidence, but when dealing with Homo iunctus, rarely was a confluence of events due to random chance.

Michelle remained determined to protect Bina and hide away from the rest of the collective, no matter how valuable they thought she was, or how urgently they wanted her back. She didn’t trust any assurances of safety, given past failures. She would do what she could to continue developing Bina’s prodigious talents, but safety had to be the first priority. The ignorance and hatred that killed her partner, Bina’s stepfather, and chased her brother and other members of the groupmind into hiding, raged unabated.  She thought Adam was safe, ensconced in a different ganglion, far away. Why were they asking about him now?

There was the rub, though. Bina’s ability to merge and communicate with the collective while maintaining her separate identity was the next step in the accelerating self-directed evolution of the emergent intelligence of Homo iunctus. Michelle could do it, but not like her brother, and certainly not as well as her daughter. Adam and Bina developed their bond through intense training sessions which began when she was barely a toddler, further advancing her ability. It was a family connection that gave Michelle joy. Those years were happy and content, until the violence caught up with them again.

Watching Bina grow into her power, especially just before they had to separate, was a source of mixed emotions for Michelle — deep love, concern about the implications for her future, maybe even a little jealousy of Bina’s connection with her uncle.

The realization that Bina’s talent was the result of HI breeding efforts was yet something else, further stoking Michelle’s anger and resentment of the subtle dictatorial control the HI exerted over every facet of their lives, no matter how far she tried to run.

Now, Bina was frustrated by Michelle’s inability to keep up, to help her continued growth. The irony of Bina’s chafing under Michelle’s control was not lost on her.

Looking back, it started even before she realized. Chains of events, each manipulated decision point, set in motion back in Chicago so long ago, all lead to this life. 

She thought she was giving Adam a new opportunity when he was recruited to join the McJames Institute school in Rexburg, Idaho to help him with the challenges of his autism. Quickly, she realized there was far more going on, with Adam, the school, and the assembly of prodigious savants merging into the groupmind, a new form of human intelligence calling itself Homo iunctus.

Then it all blew up because of Dr. Bruno Abrams’ genetic engineering project at the nearby Research Laboratory, a rogue military effort to produce supersoldiers, successful in unforeseen ways due to the covert assistance and manipulation of the HI.

The revelations following the explosive disintegration of that effort and the escape of the grendels set in motion the backlash of fear and anger resulting in the violent persecution of anyone associated with either group. The grendels could take care of themselves. The vulnerable humans in the dispersed nodes of the HI ganglia had to undertake more extreme efforts at concealment to stay alive.

She knew this was much bigger than them, that these events would have unfolded whether they went to Rexburg or not. But would they have been spared the backlash? Maybe not, given the suspicion and paranoia these days around anything to do with neurodivergent individuals.

A young mother with two small boys sat down next to her on the row of benches. Michelle watched her attempt to placate the children while keeping track of their scattered belongings. That was what Michelle thought she wanted one time, a conventional life with routine stresses, being a mom to kids unencumbered by special gifts or challenges. It was not to be.

The younger of the two boys wandered away while the mom focused on helping the other turn on a gaming device.  Michelle stood and retrieved the child.  The mom looked up, momentarily panic stricken, eyeing Michelle with fright and suspicion.  Michelle deftly deployed her communication skills, a tip of the head, a deferential smile, relaxed posture, sending a wave of reassuring signals, defusing the momentary silent conflict and winning the mother over.

“Oh my god, thank you.”

“No problem. It’s hard with these little ones.”

The woman pushed hair from her forehead and heaved a dramatic sigh. “The price of living far away from your parents, and a husband whose job won’t let him travel,” she shared while digging a handful of miniature cars and trucks from her bag, arraying them on the floor in front of the little boy.

Michelle nodded sympathetically, despite lacking both husband and parents, long dead on all counts. She read the woman’s physical discomfort and continued syncing with the woman to turn up the trust in her non-verbal cues. “Can I help you?”

The woman hesitated, looked down the long corridor of the bustling terminal, then back at Michelle, unsure. “Actually….”

Michelle followed the woman’s gaze, saw the restroom sign, then looked back at the pile of luggage and the two playing children.  She smiled and nodded. “Of course.  Go ahead. Who knows when you’ll be able to go next?”

The woman hesitated, and Michelle gave her another reassuring non-verbal nudge.

“Oh my…thank you so much.  I’ll be right back.  Kids, this nice lady…what’s your name?” The woman looked at Michelle earnestly.

Michelle hesitated for a split second, then smoothly transitioned. “Ashley.”

“…Miss Ashley, you stay right here with her. Mommy’s going to pee. I’ll be right back.”

As the the young woman hurried away, Michelle coldly assessed the probability that, despite how easily the woman was manipulated, she might not be what she seemed. Michelle had come very close to slipping and blurting out her real name, compromising every precaution she’d taken on this risky expedition.

This was life on the run, without permanent homes, friendships, or jobs; severing old relationships, including her best friend Connie, whose unreturned angry messages had eventually ceased; all the superficial transitory friendships, transactional and temporary; the lies, the covers, the disguises, constantly looking over shoulders, then the spasms of violence, shielding the vulnerable members of the ganglia, trying to explain why some people hated them so much they wanted them dead. The revelations about the emerging existence of the groupmind gave the term “neurodivergent” a new meaning, striking fear in the ignorant and provoking the intolerance they’d endured since.

All the ‘what ifs’ she tried not to dwell on: what if they’d stayed in Chicago, and she continued her career as a journalist. Continue making a living, maybe get married, have an ordinary family of ordinary children, unburdened by expectations, ignored by the fearful mobs trying to hold back the tides of change. Even simple things like sitting in a restaurant or café, enjoying a drink or a meal, unhurried and heedless of who might be watching, enjoying a casual encounter with a stranger who might become a friend, were no longer possible.

The older of the two children regarded her solemnly, his game ignored.  His younger brother played with his trucks, oblivious. Michelle smiled at him with a subtle nod.  He stared for a moment longer, then returned to his game. She used that moment to surveil the area, scanning for unusual patterns of activity, all the while concealing her effort with casual gestures. The natural activity of routine movements completed the three sixty sweep, revealing nothing of concern.  The woman’s return and look of unfeigned physical relief confirmed her assessment that this was a low-risk spontaneous interaction, and not the opening gambit of a sophisticated surveillance operation to ensnare her.

“Thank you so much. You have no idea.”

Michelle laughed. “Oh, but I do. Glad to help. Have a nice trip.” Michelle picked up her bag and threw it over her shoulder.

“Thanks, you, too.”

The brief, purely human interaction reenergized Michelle. She really wanted to get home to her own daughter after too many days apart.

As she headed to her flight, Michelle strode past a young Asian woman with almond eyes and long straight black hair hunched over a reading device on a bench.  When Michelle was a few gates past, the woman looked up, then moved her fingers quickly over a data pad.  After a moment, she closed the device, stood up, and followed Michelle down the concourse.

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