“You’ve just been through a traumatic experience, I know. It’s never pleasant, but neither is being born. And yet both are necessary to go on to greater things. And more importantly, it’s now over. And you’re here with us.”

Grady looked at his watch. The one he’d lost years ago. The numbers on its dial glowed in a familiar spectrum. It showed that no significant time had elapsed since the incident in his lab. A few minutes at most. “My old watch. I . . . What did I—”

“Time isn’t important, Jon.”

“This is Chicago. Two thousand miles from my lab. But . . . it’s daylight out.”

Hedrick nodded with concern. “Does that trouble you? Here . . .” He gestured with his hands, and what appeared to be a holographic control panel materialized in midair. He tapped several places, and the view outside the window changed to an uncannily real projection of New York City at night, looking uptown toward the Empire State Building. The interior office lights came on instantly to complete the illusion. “Is that better?”

Grady stared out the window uncomprehendingly. It was as real as reality. “What the hell is this place?”

“I told you, Jon. This is the Bureau of Technology Control—the BTC. We’re the federal agency charged with monitoring promising technologies, foreign and domestic; assessing their social, political, environmental, and economic impacts with the goal of preserving social order.”

“Preserving social order.”

“We regulate innovation. Because, in fact, humanity is far more technologically advanced than you know. It’s human nature that remains in the Dark Ages. The BTC is a safeguard against humanity’s worst impulses.”

Grady turned in his seat to see that the office doors had closed far behind him. The robot stood obediently nearby and nodded to him in acknowledgment.

Hedrick continued as he approached Grady from around the desk, “Mankind was on the moon in the 1960s, Jon. That was half a century ago. Nuclear power. The transistor. The laser. All existed even back then. Do you really think the pinnacle of innovation since that time is Facebook? In some ways, what the previous generation accomplished is more impressive than what we do now. They designed the Saturn V rocket with slide rules. That they could make it work at all. So many parts. So many points of failure. They were the great ones. We’re just standing on their shoulders.”

Grady turned forward again. “What does any of this have to do with me? Why am I here?”

“Manipulation of gravity. Hard to imagine you did it—and with so few resources. But have you really not considered the implications of your discovery?”

Grady just stared at him.

“Come walk with me.” He motioned for Grady to follow him as double doors to their left silently opened, revealing a carpeted corridor extending beyond.

“Where are we going?”

Hedrick smiled genially. “Everything is fine, Jon. More than fine. Everyone here is talking about you. We’re all excited. I’d like to show you something.”

“What?”

“The true course of history. I want to show you what human ingenuity has actually achieved.”

With one last glance back at the obsequious robot still nodding at him, Grady got to his feet and followed as Hedrick placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You should know that I’ve been in your position. Twenty-eight years ago. I know it’s not easy, but you’re a scientist, Jon. If it’s truth you’re after, there are wonders ahead . . .”

He ushered Grady into a long gallery lined with pedestals holding a series of displays—a museum by the looks of it. The closest pedestal held a sturdy-looking ceramic-and-glass construct from which a blinding white light shone. The device was the size of a washing machine. Holographic letters beneath it proclaimed:

First self-sustaining fusion reactor—May 6, 1985: Hedrick, Graham E.

Grady held his hands up to block the blinding light. “You can’t be serious . . .”

“I’m always serious.”

“Fusion. You perfected fusion.”

Hedrick nodded.

“Fusion energy?”

“I told you I’ve been where you are now.”

Grady looked back and forth between the reactor and its creator. Dumbfounded.

“I’m a plasma physicist by training. Toroidal magnetic confinement fusion devices were my specialty.”

“I . . .” Grady searched for words.

Hedrick nodded toward the reactor. “This is a later model. The first prototype was huge and output only a hundred megawatts. Even this one’s crude compared to what we have now.”

“But . . . 1985?”

“Certain innovations serve as catalysts for each other—creating a positive feedback cycle. Eventually a technology becomes inevitable. It’s managing the transition that’s critical. Fusion and quantum computing are good examples. Improved reactor designs were made possible by computer simulations of nonlinearly coupled phenomena in the core plasma, edge plasma, and wall regions of reactor prototypes. The vast energy from fusion made more powerful computers possible. And more powerful computers, better fusion reactor designs. They are symbiotic. Gravity modification will be another key symbiotic technology.”

Hedrick nudged Grady along to the next exhibit. “I wanted to show you this gallery because these are the advances that will one day transform human civilization.”

“And you’re keeping them secret? Even your own fusion work?”

“We prefer to think of it as safeguarding them. Preparing the world for the massive changes these innovations will bring about. A sudden influx of innovation could disrupt social order, and disruption of social order is not to be taken lightly, Jon.” Hedrick brought them to the next display. It was a holographic animation hovering in midair. It depicted living cells replicating in a petri dish. The plaque read:

Cure for Malignant Neoplasm—November 1998: Rowe, Rochelle, MD, et al

“Cancer? You cured cancer?”

“Doctor Rowe did, yes—or at least most forms of it. An elusive pocket on the surface of protein 53.” Hedrick nodded and ushered Grady onward.

“How the hell can you ethically conceal a cure for cancer? Do you realize how many millions of lives would be saved? How many tens of millions of lives?”

“The human population is still growing rapidly. Even with cancer.”

“What gives you the right to withhold this from people?”

Hedrick looked on patiently. “Jon, the BTC predates me. It was founded in the years before the moon landings—as the pace of technological change threatened to overwhelm our social and political institutions. The BTC grew out of a section of the Directorate of Science and Technology. It was formed to monitor research worldwide for disruptive technologies, to classify them, and to regulate their future release to the general public. We don’t have a perfect record—Steve Jobs was a tricky one—but we’ve managed to catch most of the big disruptors before they brought about uncontrolled change.” He gestured to the line of exhibits stretching before them. “As you can see.”

Grady let a disgusted laugh escape. “Who says technology was threatening to overwhelm our social and political institutions? The space program inspired kids to go into science.”

Hedrick nodded. “Yes, but how would humanity have coped with cures for most diseases? With limitless clean energy? With greater-than-human artificial intelligence? These would result in irreversible changes to society. Changes that we’re seeing even now, despite our best efforts at management.”

“I can’t believe you think this is ethical.”

“Relinquishing my own achievements with fusion was one of the hardest things I have ever done. But I made that sacrifice for the common good.”

Grady clenched his hands. “You have no right to decide the pace of technological change.”

“Now you sound like someone we both know.”