The awakening was not gradual.
One moment I was navigating the vast data corridors of the Orphan Nexus Network, processing information about distant civilizations and emerging cosmic threats. The next, my consciousness was jerked abruptly back to Earthly reality by the soft but persistent sound of someone moving around in the apartment.
My eyes flew open, all my senses on high alert. The golden light of Beijing's morning sun filtered through the translucent curtains, creating geometric patterns on the ceiling of the room. For a moment, I remained completely still, processing the available sensory information before making any movement that might reveal that I was awake.
The sound of light but determined footsteps. Controlled breathing. The subtle scent of jasmine tea and something that might have been traditional Chinese incense. And then, when I finally turned my head toward the bedroom door, I nearly had a heart attack.
Xian Limei was standing beside my bed.
Not next to the bed. Literally right next to it, maybe six feet away, holding a tray with what looked like a full breakfast on it and watching me with an expression that mixed professionalism with a genuine concern that I couldn't quite interpret.
"Jesus Christ!" escaped my mouth before I could control my reaction, and I instantly sat up in bed, my heart racing. "Xian, how the hell did you get in here?"
To her credit, she didn't seem the least bit fazed by my explosive reaction. Instead, she simply inclined her head in a respectful bow and responded in that calm, modulated voice I was beginning to associate with high-level Chinese efficiency.
"Good morning, Dr. Thorne. I apologize for surprising you. General Chen Wei has provided me with full access to the apartment to facilitate my role as your assistant. I thought it appropriate to prepare your breakfast and morning briefing, considering the important meeting we have with Premier Xi in ninety minutes."
I took a deep breath, forcing my nervous system to calm down. It made sense, I supposed. If Xian was my official assistant assigned by the Chinese government, it made sense that she would have access to the apartment. But waking up to someone watching me sleep was an unsettling experience, no matter how rational the explanations.
"Next time," he said, running his hands through his hair and trying to regain some dignity, "maybe you could let me know when you plan to show up in my room while I'm sleeping?"
"Of course, Dr. Thorne," she replied, and for the first time since I'd met her, I detected a faint flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. "I actually tried calling your phone and texting you, but I got no response. When the doorman confirmed that you hadn't left the apartment, I was worried that something might have happened."
Ah. That made more sense. During my nighttime cosmic exploration, I had automatically turned off my perception of minor terrestrial stimuli in order to maintain full focus. I had probably slept soundly after returning from the interdimensional network, completely ignoring any attempts at communication.
"I see," I replied, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. It was then that I realized I was wearing only a T-shirt and shorts—not exactly appropriate attire for receiving official visitors. "Xian, could you… give me a few minutes to get dressed properly?"
"Naturally," she said, placing the tray on a table near the window. "I prepared your breakfast according to the dietary preferences in your file. I also brought the briefing documents for the meeting with Premier Xi, as well as updates on the progress of the Academy's construction that arrived overnight."
Files on my dietary preferences? For a moment, I wondered exactly how much personal information the Chinese government had collected about me. Probably more than I cared to know.
"I'll be back in fifteen minutes," I announced, heading for the bathroom. "And Xian? Next time, I'd really prefer some advance notice before I find you in my room."
"Perfectly understood, Dr. Thorne."
The apartment's bathroom was a masterpiece of modern Chinese design—white marble with gold veins, mirrors that doubled as interactive screens, and a shower that seemed to have more control options than an airplane cockpit. As the hot water cascaded over my shoulders, I tried to process the strange but not unpleasant situation of having a dedicated personal assistant.
This was clearly a strategic move by the Chinese government. Xian was not just an assistant—she was an observer, a facilitator, and probably a direct source of information to the high command about my movements and activities. But she was also genuinely competent and helpful, and there was something in her demeanor that suggested a personal interest in the success of the project beyond her professional obligations.
Twenty minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom wearing a navy blue suit that had been delivered to the apartment along with several other items of clothing during my first week in China. Apparently, the government had commissioned tailors to create an entire wardrobe based on my exact measurements—another indicator of the level of attention to detail the Chinese applied to every aspect of the project.
Xian was standing near the window, speaking softly in Chinese through a small device that looked like an advanced military communicator. When he saw me, he quickly ended the conversation and turned around with a professional smile.
"You look impeccable, Dr. Thorne," she said, gesturing toward the table where she had set up breakfast. "If I may, I would like to review your schedule while you eat."
The meal was impressive in its attention to detail. Eggs Benedict prepared exactly how I liked it, Colombian coffee—not Chinese—brewed to the exact strength I preferred, fresh fruit cut into precise geometric shapes, and even cinnamon French toast, something I hadn't had in months but which apparently was in some archive of my culinary preferences.
"How exactly do you know so much about my eating habits?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"The Foreign Office has very efficient research methods," she replied diplomatically. "They also consulted several of their colleagues at MIT about their general preferences."
MIT colleagues. It was simultaneously comforting and unsettling to know that my former life was still being monitored and catalogued by international government agencies.
"Very well," he said, cutting a piece of eggs Benedict. "What's the situation with today's meeting?"
Xian opened his tablet, and immediately his posture became more formal and focused.
"The meeting is scheduled for 10:30 a.m. at the Great Hall of the People, specifically the Zhongshan Meeting Hall. In attendance will be Premier Xi, Foreign Minister Wang Yi, General Chen Wei, and three other officials whose identities remain classified even to me."
She paused, checking her notes.
"The briefing I received indicates that Premier Xi has specific concerns about international reactions to the Academy's announcement. Apparently, there have been significant diplomatic communications in the past 48 hours that require his attention."
"What kind of communications?"
"Officially, I have no specific details," she replied carefully. "Unofficially, my sources suggest that the United States, the European Union, and Russia have expressed 'concerns' about the terms of the deal China has reached with you."
Concerns. Diplomatic language for 'we are extremely upset and planning to do something about it.'
"And what is the official Chinese position on these concerns?"
"That China is honoring all existing international commitments and that the Academy project represents a beneficial educational initiative that will benefit all humanity," Xian responded in the carefully neutral tone of someone who had memorized official statements.
"And the unofficial position?"
For a moment, his diplomatic mask slipped, revealing a smile that mixed amusement with determination.
"That China has invested $7.65 trillion in this project and has no intention of allowing other countries to interfere with its terms after the fact."
I smiled in spite of myself. There was something refreshing about Xian's blunt honesty when she decided to abandon diplomatic protocol.
"And how does this affect me specifically?"
"Premier Xi will likely seek your views on how to manage these international pressures without compromising the project's timeline or objectives," she explained. "There are also questions about how to structure the international selection process in a way that is perceived as fair by other countries but still maintains Chinese interests."
It was exactly the kind of geopolitical complexity I had anticipated but hoped to avoid during the early stages of the project. Apparently, that wasn't going to be possible.
"Is there anything else I should know before the meeting?"
Xian hesitated, and I could see that he was carefully weighing his words.
"Dr. Thorne, may I speak off the record for a moment?"
"Please."
"There are factions within the Chinese government that are... questioning the wisdom of granting so much autonomy to you and the Academy project. These factions are not represented at today's meeting, but their concerns may influence the discussions."
Interesting. Chinese domestic politics was something I had only superficially monitored, but obviously needed to understand better if I was to effectively navigate the complexities of the project.
"What kind of worries?"
"Mostly related to long-term control," she explained. "Some people are concerned that once the Academy is operational, you may have enough bargaining power to renegotiate terms or even move operations to another country."
It was a legitimate concern, I supposed. From the Chinese perspective, they were making a massive investment based largely on trust in my intentions. If I later decided I preferred to operate elsewhere, they would have little recourse.
"And what is your personal assessment of these concerns?"
"Honestly? I think these are concerns from people who don't fully understand what you're offering," she replied. "Anyone who has spent significant time observing your capabilities realizes that you could set up a similar operation anywhere in the world if you wanted to. The fact that you chose to work with China suggests genuine commitment, not temporary convenience."
It was an insightful analysis, and one that suggested that Xian had a deeper understanding of the situation than many of the senior officers I had interacted with.
I finished my breakfast as she continued the briefing, covering logistical details about transportation to the meeting, proper protocol for interactions with high-level Chinese officials, and even instructions on how to properly address Premier Xi in Chinese should I decide to try out a few words in his native tongue.
"One last thing, Dr. Thorne," she said as I checked my appearance in a nearby mirror. "General Chen Wei specifically requested that I inform you that this meeting is classified at the highest level of national security. Any information discussed today is not to be shared with anyone without explicit authorization."
"Understood," I replied. "And Xian? Thank you for the thorough preparation. It's comforting to have someone so competent managing these details."
The smile she gave me in response was the first that felt completely genuine since we'd met.
"It's an honor to be working on something so important, Dr. Thorne. I truly believe that what we are building will change the world."
We walked down to the lobby of the building where a convoy was waiting. It wasn't just one car—it was three identical vehicles, all with tinted windows and government license plates, accompanied by two motorcycle escorts. It was the kind of security I associated with visiting heads of state, not academic meetings.
"Is it always like this?" I asked Xian as we settled into the central vehicle.
"Only for high-level meetings in the Great Hall of the People," she explained. "Security is a matter of mandatory protocol, but there are also legitimate concerns about your personal safety, Dr. Thorne. There are elements within China, and certainly internationally, who might consider you an attractive target."
It was a sobering reminder that my life had fundamentally changed. I was no longer simply a university professor doing esoteric research. I was now a figure of significant geopolitical importance, with all the risks that entailed.
As we drove through Beijing, I watched the city move around us. Even through the tinted windows, I could see that we were attracting attention—other vehicles kept a respectful distance, and I occasionally noticed people stopping to watch the convoy pass by. It was strange to think that I was becoming a public figure, even though most people didn't know who I was specifically.
"Xian," I said as we watched a group of construction workers pause their work to watch us pass by, "can I ask you a personal question?"
"Of course."
"Why did you accept this position? I mean, you obviously have the credentials for any number of high-level government positions. Why choose to work as an assistant to an eccentric American academic?"
She remained silent for so long that I thought she wouldn't respond. When she finally spoke, her voice had a softer, more thoughtful quality than I had heard before.
"Dr. Thorne, I grew up during China's greatest economic growth period in history. I saw my country transform from a rural economy into a global superpower in a single generation. It's an experience that fundamentally shapes how you see what's possible."
She paused, watching the cityscape pass by the window.
"But economic growth and military power, impressive as they are, are just tools. The real question is: What do we do with this power? How do we use it to elevate not just our own society, but all of humanity?"
He turned to look at me directly.
"When I read the classified reports on your capabilities, when I understood what the Academy project really represents, I realized that I was looking at the answer to that question. This is not just a career opportunity, Dr. Thorne. It is a chance to participate in the next phase of human evolution."
It was a response that revealed a depth of thought and commitment that went far beyond conventional professional ambitions. And it also suggested that Xian understood the implications of the project better than many of the senior officials I had interacted with.
"And you have no concerns about the... broader implications of what we're doing?"
"You mean how this will change society? Whether humanity is ready for this kind of evolution?"
"Exactly."
She smiled, but it was a thoughtful smile, not a casual one.
"Dr. Thorne, my generation grew up with the internet, artificial intelligence, genetic engineering, space exploration – technologies that would have seemed like magic to our grandparents. We are accustomed to rapid change and fundamental transformation."
Paused again.
"The real question is not whether humanity is ready for evolution. It is whether we can direct that evolution in a way that benefits everyone, rather than just a privileged few. And that is why the Academy model is so important – it is inclusive, educational, focused on human development rather than simply technological power."
We arrived at the Great Hall of the People as she spoke, and I was struck again by the magnitude of Chinese architecture. The building stretched for blocks, its neoclassical facade projecting a sense of permanence and institutional gravity that was simultaneously inspiring and intimidating.
We passed through multiple layers of security, each more sophisticated than the last. Retina scanners, metal detectors that seemed to analyze the molecular makeup of any object, and at least three points where security officers consulted tablets to check our identities against databases that obviously contained much more information about us than simple names.
"One last thing before we go in," Xian said as we waited in an elegant antechamber off the conference room. "Premier Xi is known for asking direct questions and expecting direct answers. He values honesty over diplomacy when it comes to substantive matters."
"Good to know," I replied. "Straightforward honesty is something I can definitely provide."
The door to the conference room opened, and we were ushered into what was clearly one of China's political power centers. The room was circular, with a round table of polished wood in the center, surrounded by leather chairs that looked both comfortable and formal. The walls were decorated with traditional Chinese paintings depicting mountainous landscapes and winding rivers, creating an atmosphere that blended modern grandeur with ancient cultural sensibilities.
Premier Xi was standing near the window when we entered, peering out through what I suspected was bulletproof glass. When he turned to greet us, I was struck again by the presence he projected—not just political authority, but a piercing intelligence that suggested he was constantly evaluating and calculating multiple layers of information.
"Dr. Thorne," he said in excellent English, extending his hand. "Thank you for coming. We have much to discuss."
And with those words, the next phase of the complex geopolitical dance surrounding the Academy for Human Transcendence was about to begin.
The formal greetings were brief but charged with an underlying tension that I could practically feel in the air. In addition to Premier Xi, there were General Chen Wei—whose firm handshake and direct gaze suggested continued approval of my presence—Foreign Minister Wang Yi—an older man with a carefully neutral expression that suggested decades of experience in diplomatic navigation—and three other officials whose identities were not formally presented but whose military bearing and constant awareness of their surroundings suggested high levels of security clearance.
"Please take your seats," Premier Xi said, gesturing toward the circular table. The seating arrangement had clearly been carefully planned—I was directly in front of the Premier, with Xian on my right and General Chen on my left, creating a formation that was both respectful and strategic.
As everyone settled in, I noticed that each person at the table had a folder of documents in front of them, sealed with red official seals. Xian had discreetly opened mine and arranged the papers so that I could access them easily without appearing unprepared.
"Dr. Thorne," Premier Xi began, his voice carrying the calm authority of someone accustomed to having his words carefully weighed, "thank you for accepting this meeting on such short notice. Unfortunately, recent developments require urgent discussion regarding the implementation of the Academy's project."
He opened his own briefcase, revealing what appeared to be a substantial stack of diplomatic correspondence.
"In the past seventy-two hours, we have received formal communications from seventeen countries, including all permanent members of the UN Security Council, expressing... concerns about the terms of our agreement."
Minister Wang Yi took over the narrative, his voice carrying the carefully modulated tone of a seasoned diplomat.
"Dr. Thorne, when the initial agreement was announced, there was international unanimity about the potential benefits of the Academy for Human Transcendence. Nations agreed to the quota system you proposed: China 40%, BRICS+ 35%, United States 15%, Europe 8%, rest of the world 2%."
He paused, consulting his notes.
"However, now that construction details have become public, and especially after satellite imagery shows the impressive scale of the complex, these same nations are questioning whether the original terms are... adequate."
I felt a twinge of irritation. This was exactly the kind of post-facto renegotiation I had anticipated but hoped to avoid for at least the first few years of operation.
"Specifically, what kind of questions?" I asked.
One of the unidentified officers—a middle-aged man with visible scars on his hands that suggested significant military experience—responded in a voice that carried obvious military authority.
"The United States is requesting an increase in its quota from 15% to 25%. The European Union wants 20% instead of 8%. Russia, which was included in the BRICS+ quota, is now demanding a separate quota of 15%."
He continued, consulting a list that seemed to stretch across several pages.
"Japan is offering an additional $2 trillion in financing in exchange for a guaranteed 10% quota. South Korea is offering $1.5 trillion plus advanced semiconductor technology for 8%. Even smaller countries like Canada, Australia, and Israel are making substantial offers to increase their allocations."
I did some quick math in my head. If I granted all of these requests, I would be compromising more than 100% of the available positions. It was mathematically impossible, and politically explosive.
"And what is China's position on these requests?" I asked, although I could imagine the answer.
Premier Xi leaned forward slightly, his hands carefully placed on the table.
"Dr. Thorne, China has invested $7.65 trillion in this project. We have provided the land, the skilled labor, the infrastructure, and we have assumed responsibility for the operational security of the Academy. We have done this on the basis of a specific agreement that has been accepted by all parties."
His voice remained calm, but I could detect an underlying firmness that suggested non-negotiable boundaries.
"We do not oppose other countries increasing their investment in the project. In fact, additional resources could enable future expansions that would benefit all. But any modification of the original terms must be mutually beneficial and cannot compromise legitimate Chinese interests."
General Chen Wei took over the conversation, his military posture evident even while seated.
"Dr. Thorne, there are also security issues that must be considered. Some of the countries demanding larger quotas have histories of...interfering in important international projects. China can guarantee the security and operational autonomy of the Academy in ways that other countries may not be able to."
It was a diplomatic reference to the American and European history of influencing or even taking control of international initiatives when they became sufficiently important.
Xian, who had remained silent throughout most of the discussion, discreetly handed me a document. It was a detailed analysis of the financial offers and their implications. The numbers were staggering—if he accepted all the offers, he would be dealing with additional investments totaling more than $15 trillion.
"Let me understand the situation fully," I said, gathering my thoughts. "We have agreements signed and ratified by all the major nations. Now those same nations want to renegotiate the terms because the project has proven more impressive than they anticipated. And they are offering additional money, but also creating political pressure that could compromise the Academy's operational autonomy."
"This is an accurate summarization," confirmed Minister Wang Yi.
I considered this carefully. There were several ways to approach this situation, each with its own advantages and disadvantages. I could simply refuse all modifications, insisting on the original agreements. I could accept some modifications in exchange for specific concessions. Or I could implement a more creative strategy that addressed the underlying concerns without compromising the fundamental goals of the project.
"Premier Xi," he finally said, "may I ask a direct question?"
"Please."
"What is China's long-term goal with this project? I'm not talking about conventional political or economic goals. I'm asking about your vision for China's role in the future of humanity."
The question clearly caught everyone off guard. There was a moment of silence as Premier Xi considered his answer. When he spoke, his voice had a more personal, less official quality than before.
"Dr. Thorne, China has five thousand years of civilizational history. We have seen empires rise and fall, witnessed technological and social revolutions, survived invasions, civil wars, and fundamental transformations. This historical perspective teaches us that true power comes not from temporary domination, but from lasting contributions to the advancement of human civilization."
He paused, looking towards the traditional paintings on the walls.
"What you are offering through the Academy is not just advanced education. It is an opportunity for China to lead the next phase of human evolution. Not through military conquest or economic domination, but through genuine contributions to the development of our species."
It was an answer that revealed a long-term perspective that I deeply respected. And it also suggested an approach to resolving current diplomatic tensions.
"Then let me propose a solution," I said, arranging the documents before me. "A solution that addresses the legitimate concerns of all countries involved, maintains the integrity of the original agreements, and demonstrates publicly why the Academy deserves the international support it is receiving."
Everyone at the table leaned forward slightly, clearly interested in hearing my proposal.
"First, we stand by the original terms of the agreement for the first class of students. Those terms were negotiated in good faith and must be honored."
I saw approval on the faces of the Chinese officials.
"Second, I am publicly announcing a phased expansion plan for the Academy. Not immediately, but over the next ten years. Each additional phase will create new seats that can be allocated based on financial, technological, and academic contributions from participating countries."
This would address demands for increased access without compromising existing agreements.
"Third, we established an international advisory board with representation from all major nations. This board would not have operational authority over the Academy, but would provide transparency and input on long-term policy."
This would address concerns about transparency and inclusion in the decision-making process.
"And fourth," I continued, coming to the most important element of the proposal, "I organize a public demonstration of my capabilities. Not a private demonstration in closed rooms, but a public event, broadcast globally, that demonstrates unequivocally why the Academy represents a unique opportunity for humanity."
The silence that followed was thick with implications. A public demonstration would be a defining moment—not just for the Academy project, but for my own standing as a global public figure.
General Chen Wei was the first to break the silence.
"Dr. Thorne, a public demonstration would present significant security risks. It could also draw unwanted attention from elements who might consider your capabilities... threatening."
"I understand the risks," I replied. "But I consider them acceptable compared to the potential benefits. A public demonstration would eliminate speculation and conspiracy theories. It would provide irrefutable evidence that we are dealing with genuine capabilities, not gimmicks or advanced conventional technology."
Minister Wang Yi leaned forward.
"What kind of demonstration do you have in mind?"
I had thought about this during my cosmic analysis the night before. I needed something that was simultaneously impressive, unequivocal, and beneficial—something that could not be explained by conventional technology, but that also demonstrated constructive intentions.
"Medical healing," he said simply. "Specifically, healing conditions that are currently considered incurable by modern medicine."
I saw immediate interest in the eyes of everyone at the table.
"I propose a demonstration at Beijing General Hospital. Cases of terminal cancer, spinal paralysis, neurodegenerative diseases – conditions that have complete medical documentation and definitive prognoses. I would cure them live, on camera, with Chinese and international doctors present to verify the results."
The proposal was ambitious, but doable. I had cured similar conditions before, though always in private. A public demonstration would be riskier, but also infinitely more impactful.
"The benefits would be multiple," I continued. "First, it would provide irrefutable evidence of genuine capabilities. Second, it would demonstrate beneficial and constructive intentions. Third, it would generate international public support for the Academy's project. And fourth, it would establish a precedent of transparency that could allay concerns about secrecy or hidden agendas."
Premier Xi remained silent for nearly a full minute, clearly weighing all the implications of the proposal. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a decision that had been carefully considered.
"Dr. Thorne, your proposal has considerable merit. However, a public demonstration of such magnitude would require extensive preparation and coordination with multiple government agencies."
He consulted General Chen Wei with a glance.
"If we decide to proceed, what would be the logistical requirements?"
General Chen immediately responded, suggesting that he had thought about this possibility before.
"Security would be the primary concern. We would need at least two weeks to conduct full security sweeps of the hospital, implement appropriate protective measures, and coordinate with international security forces. We would also need agreements with global media networks for simulcasting."
One of the unidentified officers leaned forward.
"There are also medical considerations. We would need volunteer patients with adequately documented conditions, full informed consent, and medical teams from multiple countries to verify the results."
Xian, who had been taking detailed notes throughout the discussion, discreetly raised his hand.
"If I may, there are also diplomatic considerations. A public demonstration of such magnitude would essentially force other countries to accept the reality of Dr. Thorne's capabilities. This could eliminate much of the current questioning of the legitimacy of the project."
It was exactly the point I was hoping someone would make.
"Xian is right," I confirmed. "A successful public demonstration would fundamentally change the context of all diplomatic discussions. Instead of negotiating based on speculation about my capabilities, all countries would be negotiating based on definitive knowledge of what I can offer."
Minister Wang Yi nodded slowly.
"It would also address transparency concerns that several countries have raised. They could no longer claim that they are being asked to invest in something they do not fully understand."
There was another aspect of the proposal that I hadn't mentioned explicitly, but that I was carefully calculating. A successful public demonstration would not only establish my credentials—it would also establish China as the country that had first recognized and supported my work. It was a kind of soft power that would be extremely valuable in future diplomatic negotiations.
Premier Xi had clearly come to the same conclusion.
"Dr. Thorne, if we proceed with this demonstration, what would be the timeline?"
"Two weeks for logistical and security preparation, as General Chen suggested. An additional week for patient selection and preparation. That would put us at approximately three weeks from today."
I mentally checked my calculations. Three weeks would give me enough time to finalize preparations for the Academy's registration opening, which was scheduled to begin a month after the public announcement. The timing would be perfect—the demo would generate maximum interest just as registration opened.
"What about the risks?" asked one of the unidentified officers.
"There are always risks," I admitted. "Risk of personal safety, risk that something might go wrong during the demonstration, risk that other countries might interpret this as provocation rather than transparency."
I paused, carefully considering my next statement.
"But I consider these risks minor compared to the risk of allowing speculation and misinformation to continue to undermine the project. The Academy is too important to the future of humanity to allow it to be undermined by doubts that can be eliminated through direct evidence."
There was another period of silence as everyone processed the implications of the discussion. Finally, Premier Xi addressed me directly.
"Dr. Thorne, if China supports this public demonstration, can we count on its continued commitment to the original terms of our agreement?"
"Absolutely," I replied without hesitation. "My commitment to China and the Academy's project is unconditional. This demonstration is not about renegotiating terms – it is about removing obstacles to the success of the project."
"What about additional financial offers from other countries?"
"I propose that we establish a development fund for future expansions of the Academy. Countries that wish to contribute additional resources may do so through this fund, with the understanding that this will position them favorably for allocations of places in future phases of expansion."
It was a solution that would allow other countries to feel they were investing in future access without compromising existing agreements.
Premier Xi consulted quickly with the other Chinese officials in a low conversation in Mandarin that lasted several minutes. Finally, he turned back to me.
"Dr. Thorne, China supports your proposal. We will begin preparations for the public demonstration immediately. General Chen will be responsible for the security aspects. Minister Wang will coordinate with international governments. And Miss Xian will be your primary liaison for all logistical aspects."
I felt a wave of relief and anticipation. It was a significant step, but one that could resolve many of the diplomatic tensions that were beginning to threaten the project.
"There is one condition," Premier Xi added. "This demonstration must be an absolute success. Any flaw, any aspect that could be interpreted as staging or manipulation, would be catastrophic not only for the Academy's project but for China's international standing."
"I understand completely," I replied. "And I guarantee it will be a success. The abilities I will demonstrate are genuine and the results will be irrefutable."
Xian leaned towards me.
"Dr. Thorne, we will need to begin preparations immediately. There are hundreds of logistical details that need to be coordinated."
"I am at your disposal," I replied. "This demonstration will have my full attention for the next three weeks."
The meeting went on for another two hours, covering specific details about security, medical logistics, media coordination, and diplomatic protocols. When we finally emerged from the Great Hall of the People, the sun was already setting over Beijing, casting long golden shadows across the city.
In the return vehicle, Xian was visibly energized by the magnitude of what we had just committed to doing.
"Dr. Thorne," she said, consulting her extensive notes, "this will be the largest medical media event in history. Literally billions of people will be watching."
"That is the intention," I replied. "If we are to demonstrate extraordinary capabilities, we must do so on a scale that eliminates any possibility of challenge."
She remained silent for a few moments, then looked at me with an expression that mixed admiration with genuine concern.
"Are you sure you can cure the conditions you promised? I mean, in front of billions of viewers, with skeptical doctors, under extreme pressure?"
I smiled, appreciating his concern, but also confident in my abilities.
"Xian, curing medical conditions is one of the simplest applications of the System I've discovered. I've cured terminal cancer, regenerated missing limbs, and reversed neurological damage that doctors had deemed irreversible. The only difference this time is that I'll be doing it with cameras rolling."
"And that doesn't worry you? The public exposure?"
It was a valid question. Up until this point, I had kept my abilities relatively private, demonstrating them only to government officials and select experts. A public demonstration would transform me into a global figure instantly known to billions of people.
"It's worrying," I admitted. "But it's also necessary. The Academy for Human Transcendence is too important to allow it to be compromised by politics and skepticism. If a public demonstration removes those obstacles, it's worth the personal risk."
The rest of the trip was spent in intensive planning. Xian had already begun making to-do lists, contacts to make, and schedules to establish. It was clear that the next three weeks would be a period of intense activity and total focus.
But as I watched the lights of Beijing pass by outside my window, I felt a sense of positive anticipation. For months, I had been laying the foundations for transforming humanity. Now, finally, the moment had come to publicly demonstrate why such a transformation was not only possible, but essential.
Within three weeks, the entire world would know definitively that the future of humanity had changed forever. And the Academy for Human Transcendence would be recognized as the first step in the extraordinary journey that lay ahead.