Axiomatic by Greg Egan





Eighteen science fiction short stories collected here, mind-expanders blasting out to the frontiers of futuristic biochemistry, physics, pharmacology, electrical engineering and most everything in between. Greg Egan is a terrific writer. As a way of opening the door into these unique and startling worlds, rather than saying a little about a number of pieces, I'll focus all my words exclusively on the title story - Axiomatic. SPOILER ALERT: I analyze this story from beginning to end.

AXIOMATIC
Implant technology, so explains narrator Mark Carver, was first developed to offer instant language skills for traveling business people and tourists. So, if Londoner Simon is off to conduct business in Tokyo, a language implant would provide him with the facility to communicate in Japanese for three days (the desired effect of an implant is short-term) . But, alas, following poor sales, the company was taken over by an entertainment conglomerate that developed programs that were a cross between video games and hallucinogenic drugs. Huge success, especially among the young.

The next generation of implants - the so-called axiomatics - eliminate conflicted desires and confused emotions. Thus, freed up from one's annoying inner conflicts, a user is empowered to act as if their action is the most natural, the most correct thing they ever will perform in their life. Mark tells us many of the axiomatics deal with sexuality. For example, if you are strongly ambivalent about a certain type of sexual activity, no problem – take the appropriate axiomatic and you can indulge to your heart’s content without all those messy mixed emotions. Go for it! Enjoyment aplenty.

Mark goes on to provide his backstory as to why he’s in the market for a very specific axiomatic: some years ago the love of his life, his wife Amy, was shot dead when bank robbers ordered everyone in the bank to lie face-down on the floor. Mark found out who pulled the trigger – one Patrick Anderson, a convicted criminal sentenced to seven years in prison rather than a life sentence since he chose to be a key witness for the prosecution. Five years later Anderson is out on parole and working as a bouncer for a nightclub.

Oh, these last five years have been sheer torture for Mark; nearly every minute of his waking hours have been obsessed with the details of that deadly day in the bank. Mark is a pacifist but there’s a part of him that hankers after revenge. He knows in his heart of hearts that taking a human life is wrong but he bought the gun, joined a sports club, spent three hours a week shooting at moving, human-shaped targets – and he purchased his axiomatic.

Can he, Mark Carver the pacifist, actually shot Anderson? Under the influence of the axiomatic, you bet he can – and for a very clear reason: under the influence of this specific axiomatic, all human life counts for nothing. Under the influence of this axiomatic, Mark now understands all of his past love and grief and agony for Amy was nothing more than a bad joke. As for Anderson, that sack of crap sitting on the other side of the room – POW! No more Anderson.

But then the unexpected: following his act of revenge, Mark suffers and his suffering is intense – “What I want is what I felt that night: the unshakable conviction that Amy’s death – let alone Anderson’s – simply didn’t matter, any more than the death of a fly or an amoeba, any more than breaking a coffee cup or kicking a dog. My one mistake was thinking that the insight I gained would simply vanish when the implant cut out. It hadn’t.”

In other words, the memory of his "axiomatic mind" clarity experience existing side by side with his current morally ambiguous, emotionally conflicted state renders life as an unendurable hell on earth.
 
What to do? The tale's concluding lines leave no doubt as to exactly what Mark plans to do - make the first in a series of return trips to The Implant Store. Ah, this future world with its new technologies giving rise to new addictions, bestowing expanded meaning to what it is to be a junkie.

Similar to the other tales in this Greg Egan collection, Axiomatic prompts a number of provocative philosophical questions. Should such retail establishments as The Implant Store be permitted? Should implants be confined to medical use? Can you imagine an implant that would instantly relieve people of their depression? Their anxiety? Their insomnia? Or, is such a radical neurological transformation merely covering up deeper symptoms that are better addressed directly?

As to the axiomatic implant Mark purchased that eliminated conflict and ambiguity, we can imagine such a powerful mind-controlling procedure in the hands of military leaders or employed for political expediency. What would it feel like to be under the influence of an axiomatic that reduced other people to complete nothings? Are fundamentalist religions the current stand-in for axiomatics in the sense that such beliefs tend to eliminate moral ambiguity and the very human condition of not knowing answers to the big questions - Who am I? Where did I come from? Where am I going?

Greg Egan begins this tale with Mark having to squeeze his way past teenagers lounging outside the entrance to The Implant Store. “They mimed throwing up as I passed, as if the state of not being pubescent and dressed like a member of Biinary Search was so disgusting to contemplate that it made them physically ill.” Thus we have a true social conundrum: the lure of the implants offering psychedelia or bliss is so powerful, the prospect of becoming a responsible adult is enough to make one sick.

Greg Egan is an absolutely first-rate author well worth anybody's time. Axiomatic is but one instance. I'm totally captivated by his insights and plan to read and review more of his tales.


Australian author Greg Egan, born 1961 - Greg takes pride in not having any photos of himself available on the web. Since I plan to review a string of his work, this photo is the way I picture the outstanding SF novelist writing at his computer.

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