The Soul of the Matter by Bruce Buff

overlap.”
    â€œYou’ll have to prove that,” Dan said with more meaning than he had intended.
    Stephen shot Dan a look, then said, “The steaks are done. Let’s sit down.” Savoring the juicy, flavorful meat, they ate in reflective silence, pausing only to sip from their beers.
    After they cleaned up, Stephen said, “I want to show you something you’ll appreciate. I recently added a theater system to the house. Come on downstairs. Then we can talk about what I’m dragging you into.”
    Dan followed Stephen down the stairs, into the finished basement, past the pool table, and into the theater room. It was done well. There were four rows of six seats, with a middle aisle, facing a large screen. Sound-damping tiles covered the walls and ceilings.
    Stephen picked up the remote control and turned to Dan. “So what do you think?”
    â€œImpressive, though I thought you were too practical for something like this.”
    â€œHow about some music?” Stephen pressed a few buttons and Renaissance’s “Ashes Are Burning” started playing as colorful visual effects of lines, circles, starbursts, and other images appeared on the screen.
    Dan said, “Nice job.”
    â€œIt is pretty good, though I didn’t build this room for entertainment.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Dan asked.
    â€œIt’s actually—and this may seem strange at first—my only secure site for talking and working. The room is surrounded by double walls with sound, vibration, and electromagnetic damping. The only wires into the room are the electrical and the cable, and they’re electronically scrubbed to make sure nothing is transmitted out over them. For extra security, I have battery power, so when I flip a switch, the room is completely isolated. The air vents are also isolated. With your background, I thought you would appreciate this.”
    â€œI do.” Dan hesitated, frowned, and then said, “Are you in danger?”

Chapter 19
    T he man, esteemed within influential circles throughout the world and known within The Commission as Sarastro, entered his private study. The room was modest in size for a man of his means and it was paneled with ornate walnut woodwork. Heavy green curtains parted just enough to let slivers of light enter the room. Marble squares formed a black and white checkerboard pattern on the floor.
    The Commission itself was composed of a select group of like-minded people from top leadership positions in important institutions throughout the world, whether government, academia, business—even religious organizations. They thought of themselves as enlightened, powerful, and entitled, though compassionate and magnanimous. Their mission was to direct humanity for the good of all, provide for those who could contribute, and in time gently weed out those whose existence was a burden even to themselves, all the while ensuring humanity’s future, and The Commission’s members’ positions within it, as humanity was transformed from a flawed, mortal existence to immortality and prosperity. No more would humans be limited by mere biology.
    Walking over to a small rolltop desk by a closed door, Sarastro opened the top left drawer, placed his right hand on a small touch screen, and said, “Identity: Sarastro. Command: Access communications room.”
    A magnetic lock released, and a hidden door in the nearby wall opened a few inches, revealing a six- by nine-foot room with bare white walls and a large flat-screen monitor mounted opposite the door. Sarastro entered the room and the door closed firmly behindhim. A single desk with a keyboard, touch pad, and microphone faced the monitor.
    Sarastro sat in the chair, placed his hand on the touchpad, and issued a series of commands. Six squares appeared on the monitor, each displaying the face of another member of The Commission’s nucleus. Together, the people in the nucleus