“What makes men obey or tolerate real power and, on the other hand, hate people who have wealth without power, is the rational instinct that power has a certain function and is of some general use. Even exploitation and oppression still make society work and establish some kind of order.” – Hannah Arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism

Dr. Charles Byron could’ve been a supervillain if he’d tried.  After all, Chuck had all the makings of a mad scientist: a basement full of 3D printers, cyborg cockroaches, and more.  But luckily for the human race, Chuck decided to use his powers for good.  At least, that was the plan.

“From Root to STEM” was his idea.  How he went from teaching neuroscience at the University of California, Berkeley to teaching in grade school classrooms.  Get out there and give children some real hands-on experience with the sciences!  Berkeley seemed eager enough to fund the program.  Good PR, and Churck would bring his own materials.  Besides, the interest was there.  Kids were becoming more tech-savvy.  Almost all the kids had a cell phone, and some were even at home designing their own robots with Arduino kits and such.  If there’s one thing he could count on, it was that kids loved technology.  Hell, Americans love technology.  So Chuck figured: get ‘em while they’re young.

He went from city to city.  One day it would be helping a LA school build their own Mars rover.  The next day it would be showing a San Francisco classroom how to use a 3D printer.  It was good work, fulfilling work.  It didn’t take too much time away from his job as a UC professor.  Besides, he just loved how a kid’s eyes lit up when he or she saw some cool tech in action or, even better, figured out how it worked.

There were complaints, of course.  Parents complaining about Chuck “indoctrinating our babies”:

“You’re not a real scientist,” one angry dad insulted, “A real scientist would confess that the data just isn’t in yet on global warming.  Besides, what does a brain guy know about the weather!?”

“I want you to stop spreading lies,” a VERY religious mother complained, “Evolution is nothing but liberal propaganda.  God created Man through intelligent design!”

But Chuck ignored them.  If they wanted to complain to the school board, hey: it’s a free country.  Facts were facts, truth was truth.  He couldn’t educate someone who refused to listen.  But he did pity their children.  Those poor kids would grow up just as ignorant and prejudiced.

But, for every one of those kids and their parents, there were another 100 with open and awe-struck minds.  Chuck just felt so cool when a classroom gave an audible “wow” during a demonstration.  He felt so proud to be inspiring these kids.  But he never would’ve guessed that he would wind up being inspired in-turn.

It was during a demonstration on how muscles and nerves work.  As a neuroscientist, this was where Chuck really shined.  He especially enjoyed this demonstration.  It made the drive down to San Diego worth it.  The kids cocked their heads curiously as Chuck attached various adhesive electrodes to his arm.  The electrodes connected to a small computer device that sort of resembled a heart monitor.  On the table in front of him sat a robotic claw, partially made from 3D printed plastic.  It too was connected to the device.

Chuck clenched his fist a few times, so the machinery could read the muscle movement.  Each time he flexed, the image on the screen spiked.  After a few times, suddenly, the claw begin to move!  Clenching just as his hand did.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa…?” All the kids gasped aloud.

For dramatic effect, Chuck lowered his voice to a deep growl, mimicking the voice of the evil Dr. Claw.

“I’ll get you next time, Gadget!”

He didn’t expect any of them to get the reference.  It did make him feel a little old, but he thought it was a good joke.  The teacher of course cracked up, and, to his surprise, a few kids started laughing too.  He guessed “Inspector Gadget” must finally be available on Netflix.  But the most common reaction was a mouth-agape shout.

“WHOA!”

“That is the most amazing thing in my whole life!”

“He’s like an X-Men!”

“AHHHHHHH!!!”

Chuck had blown their minds.  His work here was done.

“So that’s how nerves work,” he concluded, “My nerve sends an electric shock to my muscle as a signal that it should move.  With these electrodes, that same nerve can tell the claw to move as well!”

More gasps of amazement.  Chuck was a modern-day magician.  But there was no need to show them card tricks or pull a rabbit out of a hat.  Just open the door to the wonders of the physical world.

The bell rang, and as the kids grabbed their backpacks and filed out of their seats, they were still excitedly chattering about what they had seen.  Some were hyped to tell this story to their families.  Some expressed disbelief.  They were sure there was some trick to it.  Chuck really was a magician: there would always be an audience that didn’t buy the trick.

He noticed one student remained where he stood, staring at Chuck and his machines.  It wasn’t unusual for at least one or two kids to have questions after class.  Chuck was happy to oblige.

“Hi there,” Chuck happily greeted, “What was your name again?  Javier?  Did you have any questions?”

Javier, still looking at the claw, replied, “But how does it help people?”

Chuck was confused. “How do you mean?”

Javier finally looked at Chuck.  “You said at the beginning of class that science lets us help people,” he explained, “But how does a robot claw help?”

Chuck smiled courteously and answered, “Because it helps us understand how our bodies work.  Then we can fix it when something goes wrong and a person becomes sick.”

Javier didn’t appear convinced. “But what if someone needs help right away, and you can’t set up your claw in time to help!?”

Chuck couldn’t help but chuckle a little.  “No, the claw itself doesn’t make people better,” he patiently explained, “It helps us understand how to help.”

“Oh,” Javier said, “I see.”

Chuck could tell from his puzzled expression that he didn’t quite.

Chuck went back to packing away his things, when Javier asked again, “But why does it take so long to put together?”

“Because of all the wires and plugs,” Chuck explained, “Everything needs to be properly hooked up.”

“But you don’t need to plug in your phone.”  Javier held up his own smartphone as proof.

“Why can’t you make your machine like that?” Javier asked.

Chuck started to reply, but then he asked himself: why can’t I?  The claw and the accompanying equipment were fairly bulky, and the wires easily got tangled.  He’d seen that enough times travelling on the road.  Why couldn’t he make a more portable version?

“You know what,” Chuck responded, “That’s not a bad idea!”

Javier grinned brightly.  “Thank you!”

He hurried to his cubby, grabbed his things, and ran off to catch up with his classmates.

The whole drive back home, he kept thinking about how he might go about what Javier proposed: less bulky, no wires.  Slimmer, smarter, sexier!  When he pulled up to his house, he quickly unpacked the machines, and immediately ran them down into the basement.  He had to start working!  The itch to invent had struck, and he had to scratch at it!

Luckily, he got home on a Friday, and was able to spend the whole weekend fiddling with the electrodes, trying out different configurations.  Finally, he had it: wireless electrode transmitters.  Usually, they were injected into cancer patients to look out for any relapsing brain tumors.  But Chuck reconfigured them to not just record, but also transmit.  An intramuscular injection along select neural pathways and any neuromuscular activity would automatically be detected.  He made the injections himself.  They hurt: a lot.

After the pain subsided, he began to test.  He paired the transmitters with his phone’s Bluetooth.  He started to flex his hand.  Open, close, open, and close…and then, even faster than it had in the classroom, the claw began flexing too!  Wireless mind control!  Well, wireless neuromuscular mind control, but still cool!

He pondered what to call it.  What about “Byron Signal transmitters”?  No, no…the last thing he wanted was to talk to kids about “BS”.  Chuck wasn’t really a good name.  A name with “Charles”, maybe?

He thought back to the classroom a few days ago.  One of those kids had called him “an X-Men”.  Chuck laughed out loud.  Guess he really was an X-Man!  “Magneto”, then?  No, he didn’t want to name this after a villain…

Then he realized: Javier.  They were Charles and Javier.  Charles Xavier!  Chuck cracked up.  He couldn’t believe the irony.  Future generations wouldn’t find the joke as funny as he did.  The “Professor Charles Xavier Emulator” it was!

He called the school in San Diego on Monday and shared the news with Javier.  The boy was ecstatic!

“Someday,” he shared, “I’m going to invent mind control too!  I’m gonna connect a brain to a computer!”

Chuck laughed over the phone. “That’s the spirit,” he encouraged, “Study hard, and you can do anything!”

He hung up and triumphantly strode up to the bathroom.  He set his notes on the bathroom counter and hopped into the shower.  He couldn’t wait to get to work!  Wait until he showed the university!  The other professors in his department would freak when he showed them!

He would never get that chance.

Because Chuck Byron forgot to end the pair with his Bluetooth.  Because Chuck Byron forgot that the transmitters were still active.  Because Chuck Byron forgot what happens when live electrical objects get wet.

Flopping around like in a seizure, Chuck tried to make his way out of the bathroom.  Water drenched the pages of his notes.  The running ink mixed with the frothing saliva from his mouth.  He tried to fight against the convulsions, but it was no use.

And then it was over.  The spasms had stopped long before the university, worried he hadn’t shown up, asked a police officer to check up on him.  The officer rushed him to the hospital, but it was already too late.  Dr. Charles “Chuck” Byron was dead.  Killed by his invention…at least, that’s how the media spun it.

Some outlets joked about it as a man dropping a plugged-in toaster in the bath.  A select few almost celebrated the death, relieved his dangerous research was stopped before it progressed any further.  The notes were slightly damaged, but still legible.  The only thing truly indecipherable was the name:  “Prof              X      Emulator”.  Those particular media outlets loved to cite this as evidence of Chuck’s megalomania.  Who else but a mad scientist would want to control minds like Prof. X?  That’s how it became PXE, or “Pixie” as the idiots on cable news so “cleverly” coined it.  Yet not a single one reported what happened to PXE after Chuck’s death.

Chuck was never able to patent the technology, but the Department of Defense got there first.  They patented the transmitters themselves, and then shipped off whatever wasn’t nailed down from Chuck’s house to DARPA.  The rest of it was bought up by the private sector.  No one was really keen to develop a technology that could kill you, until one Chinese firm claimed to be able to use PXE (now waterproof) to provide medical aid.  Controlled by a doctor from afar, PXE could be used to alter nerves and muscles until help could arrive.  The American markets rushed to catch up, not even questioning how the Chinese got a hold of the tech.

That’s when the gold rush began.  Control your phone with PXE.  Upgrade to the latest iPhone.  Use PXE to assist your manufacturing.  Bring jobs back to the U.S.  Over the following decades, PXE would worm its way throughout American society.  The change was so subtle, that no one really noticed it until PXE became an everyday phenomenon.  Control your devices.  Power over your life.  Control.  Power.  Control!  Power!  Chuck Byron had changed the world forever.  We were all doomed.