Gene Mapper Read Online Free PDF Page A

with a bowl cut and old hippie-style clothes hunched over an old fliptop PC.
    “These men developed one Internet service after another that violated our rights, especially our right to privacy. Worse still, they ignored the lawful ownership of intellectual property with their ‘Open Source’ movement, which brought billions in economic losses.”
    As I half listened to Sascha’s anti-programmer tirade, I was thinking about something else.
    The genetic engineering that had led to distilled crops used programming techniques developed during the golden age of the Internet. We isolate every gene that expresses specific traits and use object-oriented programming methods to manipulate these strands of DNA as black boxes. When we get the output we’re looking for, we capture it in genetic algorithms. The number of algorithms is sufficiently large that no one engineer can master them all.
    My crop style sheets are based on methods originally developed to specify the look of websites. I don’t need to know everything about the genome itself. I just apply the extracted code for physical features to design the look of the plant.
    I wondered what these young programmers were thinking when they first connected computers on a global scale, opening one door after another to the unknown. When he designed his operating system, the aging developer Sascha interviewed knew very well that his 32-bit timestamp would be obsolete in a few decades. He knew the risk, but he had other issues to juggle. The conflicts with human rights, privacy, the economy, national security—each new idea opened another door, a door they couldn’t close. But opening doors was always more important than the possible consequences.
    “I’m sure you all remember what happened in 2017. The computer network known as the Internet collapsed because of built-in flaws, and the rest of us were locked out. This was a warning.”
    Sascha peered intently into the camera and clasped her hands. Her tirade was about to peak. With apologies to the cast member who put me onto this, I had to say, it was all pretty trite.
    “We must be vigilant about the relentless advance of science and technology. There’s no guarantee that programmers share the same dreams as the rest of us. What damage will their latest blunder bring? We’ll have our answer in six months. The apocalypse is coming.”
    “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mamoru. Now what is that, a printed magazine? How retro. What are you reading?”
    As I lifted the page to pause the video, Kurokawa was leaning over my shoulder, still dressed exactly as he had been this morning. It was four o’clock. He was right on time.
    “Some kind of journal called Times of the World. It’s pretty awful.”
    I opened the page again and put the “magazine” on the table. Sascha had already launched into her next piece.
    “Synthetic rice is close to certification for worldwide use. But how long will these artificial organisms remain under human control? Is the ‘distilled’ development process really safe? We bring you the frightening truth.”
    Now she was dumping on distilled crops.
    “What a bi—”
    I closed the magazine. I felt like the old guy in the hospital, but I caught myself. Maybe not appropriate for the café.
    “You mean, what a bitch? I agree.”
    Kurokawa smoothly finished my sentence for me. He signaled one of the cast members and ordered a cappuccino.
    *   *   *
    “I like this café.”
    The sun was lower. The shadows of buildings were falling across the avenue outside. Kurokawa blew on the foamed milk in his big mug of coffee. The steam rose and fogged his glasses. It was hot as hell. Kurokawa was probably in a nice air-conditioned room somewhere, but at least he could have ordered something cold for my sake.
    “The stages you pick for our meetings are always pleasant and peaceful. I liked the room this morning, but this café is very tranquil. Sorry, my glasses …”
    Kurokawa took his glasses off and