Ramez Naam

completely unaltered. So there’s no game of telephone.

Arrington, the near-trillionaire who’d managed to upload a digital replica of his brain into a custom data center and then gone insane from it, crashing markets and airplanes and power grids, killing thousands in what they’d told the world was a terrorist cyber-attack.

We’ll be gods. Uploads. Immortal. Upgradeable. Faster and smarter every year. First mover advantage in the new base layer of civilization.

When your material needs are met, you start to want something more. That’s where our people are. They’ve gotten the bigger house, the full belly, the buying power. They crave what they don’t have. They want a say in how their lives are run. They want a say in how the country is run.”

project they call “Neural Dust”. Their neural dust would be particles that are less than one hundred microns across. Thousands or tens of thousands or more could be sprinkled across the brain, and would then communicate wirelessly via ultrasonic sound waves

“It doesn’t matter what hardware her mind runs on. It matters that she has a mind.”

This is not a person,” he said. “This is a machine.”
Calm down, some part of Kade seemed to say.
Sam’s face loomed in his mind. Her words echoed. You’re just a tool to them. The pawn seldom knows.

My agent, Lucienne Diver,

China is not a place!” she said. “China is not a government! China is the people!”

ANGRY ROBOT
An imprint of Watkins Med