Influx (24 page)

Alexa grabbed his sweatshirt as he tried to curl up in a ball. “Jon, you were placed in Hibernity for your own protection—for everyone’s protection.”

“For my own protection?” He glared at her. “Do you really believe that?” Grady pulled off his sweatshirt and T-shirt to reveal the horrendous scars spread across his back and sides—and then he pulled his LED glasses off to show her the drill marks at intervals at his temples where the AI had held his head in place like a vise.

“Do you see this? Explain to me how being mentally and physically tortured for years in solitary confinement is for my own protection. Explain to me how destroying memories from my childhood is for the ‘greater good.’ Whose good?”

Alexa’s eyes widened in apparent shock at the terrifying scars crisscrossing Grady’s body. Scars that had clearly been made with machine precision. Scars that weren’t there when he’d been sent to Hibernity.

And as Grady watched her closely, Alexa seemed to shut down. The conflict between what she “knew” and the evidence before her seemed to physically stun her.

Grady could see the look of amazement in her staring eyes. “Can Hedrick really be keeping you so in the dark?” He moved toward her. “Hibernity isn’t a prison, Alexa. It’s a research facility. They’re trying to build consciousness without free will. What they’re doing could doom all of us. Everyone. Can you really be so blind?”

Alexa stood frozen—paralyzed. It seemed to Grady that she was suffering some sort of seizure. He waved his hand in front of her face but got no response.

Grady panted in rage and fear, but the sight of his obvious torture apparently had rocked her perception of the world. He knew what it felt like to have one’s beliefs demolished, and his hatred of her relented.

With just a moment’s hesitation Grady then grabbed his sweatshirt and donned his LED glasses. He stared warily back toward her as he walked away, slipping through the crowd of concerned men watching nearby.

He was amazed when Alexa did not follow.

G
raham Hedrick stood in his
cavernous office before a video wall. On it was the aging face of U.S. Director of National Intelligence Kaye Monahan. The image was decidedly less crisp than he was used to, but then, with her aging countenance, that was probably a blessing.

The DNI shook her head calmly. “Mr. Hedrick, you must understand that from the U.S. government’s point of view the current situation is untenable.”

Hedrick spread his hands. “But the BTC is part of the U.S. government, Madam Director.”

“Conceived at a time of crisis—”

“There’s always a crisis.”

“—on what I consider a dubious legal foundation. And by any standard you’ve long ago exceeded your mandate.”

“According to whom?”

“According to the agency that created you and the Office of the Director of National Intelligence.”

“Is that it then? You expect us to fall on our sword because you’ve all become so backward that it’s no longer fair?”

“You refuse to follow U.S. law. You refuse to submit to legitimate civilian authority. You take unilateral actions overseas in direct violation of U.S. treaties and human rights.”

He waved her off. “Don’t go on about law and human rights. None of us follow the law. Do I need to run through the vast catalog of criminality that is the covert world? It comes with the territory. If the law meant anything, we’d
all
be facing criminal charges—you included.”

She regarded him icily.

Hedrick tried to conceal his utter contempt. He knew this person would be replaced in a couple of years by someone else—that was how democracy worked. It’s why democracy lacked continuity—resolve. He would outlast them. He always did.

“The only reason I agreed to this conference call is because I want to avoid unnecessary ill will, Madam Director. You’ve been agitating for our subjugation ever since you learned of our existence—which is, what, four months ago now? Do you realize how long we’ve been here?”

“Had I known—”

“We can help each other, you and I.”

“I’m well aware of the arrangements you’ve made with other intelligence organizations.”

“Bear in mind: I don’t usually make the arrangements with leadership. Leadership comes and goes. Middle management tends to abide—and they’re much more useful in many ways.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m saying you should back off. Don’t be so quick to rely on the people around you. Some of them resent the fact that there’s no professional route to the top job. No, instead, one has to rely upon the appointment of a fickle executive—who in turn is elected by a fickle public. A public that knows nothing.”

The DNI glared. “Mr. Hedrick, our intelligence and defense communities are collectively much greater than your small organization—advanced though it may be.”

“Are you?”

“You must come back into the fold.”

“Why would I submit to the leadership of inferior organizations?”

“To keep your job. If the U.S. government has to force your hand, you can rest assured that you will not be in charge when the dust settles. You will be in federal prison.”

“That’s amusing, Madam Director.”

“Those are the facts. We will not tolerate the BTC as a rogue agency any longer. You must submit to legitimate authority. If you do, then you can remain in charge of the BTC. That’s the deal.”

He smirked. “‘Legitimate’ authority—a bunch of incompetent liars who deceive an ignorant rabble into voting for them.” He shook his head. “The BTC isn’t going to submit to anyone.”

“Think carefully before refusing our offer.”

“Carefully? Why do I need to be careful? What you are, Madam Director—all of you in government—what you are is an irritant. Like a crying child. Taking me away from my real concerns, namely illicit organizations in Asia and Eastern Europe that have stolen BTC technology.”

She nodded. “I’ve read the intelligence reports. This situation was caused by the secretive nature of the BTC. They grew out of your organization.”

“Splinter groups, yes—and this occurred before my time. Nonetheless, they need to be dealt with. They pose a grave danger to us all. And in that contest of wills, you and all your early twenty-first-century brethren are about as useful to me as toddlers.”

Monahan’s large image frowned on-screen, accenting her wrinkles. “As director of national intelligence, I am ordering you, Graham Hedrick, to submit to lawful authority—to the legitimate chain of command.”

“Or what? What will you do to us? You’re not the first bureaucrat convinced they could dissolve us. None of them survived the attempt.”

“I consider that a direct threat.”

“Good. Please extend my best wishes to anyone else in your organization with a cooler head on their shoulders. Because we are more than happy to work toward a common purpose with those people.”

“This is your last opportunity, Graham. Do not force our hand.”

Hedrick sighed and laughed. “You’re getting tiresome.”

“Then you leave me no choice. Graham Hedrick, I hereby relieve you of your office and declare the Bureau of Technology Control an illegal, terrorist organization.”

“Oh, come on. Now you’re just acting stupid.”

Monahan angrily slammed her palm onto her desk. “I will not be disrespected in this way!”

“Then in what way would you prefer to be disrespected?”

She pointed a finger at him. “You are relieved of your post. If you’re smart, you’ll order all your personnel to—”

“Okay, that’s enough now . . .” Hedrick cut the line, and the wall returned to the form of wooden panels with artwork. He spoke to the ceiling. “Varuna.”

Varuna’s voice came to him.
“Yes, Mr. Director.”

“What actions are under way in the U.S. government to rein in the BTC?”

“Encrypted communications between elements of the Department of Homeland Security, the National Security Agency, the Central Intelligence Agency, and the Department of Defense indicate preparations for a police action to seize all BTC facilities in North and South America.”

Hedrick shook his head grimly. “Madness. Who’s in charge of the operation?”

“Director Kaye Monahan appears to be in nominal command, Mr. Director.”

“Keep me informed as their plans evolve, Varuna.”

“Yes, Mr. Director.”

The office doors opened as the elder Morrison walked in. “I’ve got some bad news.” He paused for effect. “And worse news.”

Hedrick sat down in his chair. “Not you, too.”

“Jon Grady evaded our people in New York.”

“Goddamnit! Then he was there?”

Morrison nodded.

“Why on earth didn’t they just nox him?”

“It’s complicated. He had some low-tech tricks up his sleeve. Apparently there are steam tunnels beneath the university. He knew his way around them—used them to escape with Davis undetected.”

“You didn’t analyze the meeting site beforehand?”

“Of course we did. But AIs come back with lots of recommendations. It’s a lot of information.” Morrison grimaced. “Mistakes were made, I admit.” He paused.

Hedrick sat fuming at his desk. “We are headed for a serious problem with the U.S. government, and the last thing I need right now is our most precious asset running around loose.”

“We have a recording of Grady’s conversation with Agent Davis, though. He’s relying on her to help him get the word out about the BTC.”

“Then he briefed Davis on us?”

Morrison nodded.

“Hibernity?”

“We’re not certain—they had some time unobserved when they were moving through the steam tunnels.”

“Eliminate Agent Davis.”

Morrison made a calming motion. “Whoa. She’s the arresting agent in the Cotton case. It will complicate the trial and bring unwarranted—”

“Goddamnit, Morrison!” Hedrick ran his hand through his hair. “We need Grady.”

“We can still handle this. Grady will have difficulty convincing anyone of anything, and every time he tries is an opportunity for us to grab him. We’re still in control.”

Just then the office door opened again and Alexa entered Hedrick’s office, looking quite upset.

“Graham, I need to talk with you about Hibernity.”

Hedrick sighed. “And I need to talk with you about supporting field operations. Mr. Morrison tells me that his team didn’t know about the steam tunnels beneath Columbia University. It was your job to—”

“What’s going on at Hibernity?”

Hedrick exchanged looks with Morrison—then back at her. “Hibernity isn’t your concern.”

“Yes, it is. I’ve seen evidence of terrible abuse there that must be investigated immediately.”

Hedrick scowled. “Alexa, I have got no less than two major crises under way at the moment. Now, if this relates to locating Mr. Grady—by all means. Find him. Because he’s still missing.”

She stood unmoving. “I thought the purpose of Hibernity was to safeguard dangerous intellects in a humane environment until their knowledge was no longer a threat to civilization.”

“I really don’t have time for this.”

“Is that its purpose?”

He pointed toward the door. “My dear, I will gladly talk about this later. Hibernity isn’t going anywhere, and we’ve got a major crisis.” He then squinted at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be monitoring the search for Mr. Grady?”

Morrison stared at her. “Alexa was there, Graham.”

“What do you mean ‘there’? Where?”

“That was my second bit of bad news: Alexa was at the op. Out in public. In New York. Isn’t that right, Alexa?”

Hedrick turned on her. “I thought I ordered you to support intelligence operations here. We went over this; you’re not a field operative.”

She stared back defiantly. “It was a good thing I went.”

“I expressly forbade you to participate. This was a tech level four operation—and what you fail to appreciate, my dear, is that your very body is tech level eight. You should not be moving about in public. Ever.”

Alexa stared at him.

“I’ve been too indulgent with you—too lax.”

“When can we discuss Hibernity?”

He pointed to the door. “Make an appointment with my assistant.”

“Graham—”

“You mean
Mr. Director
!”

She cast another look at them both, then turned on her heels and left. The doors swung shut automatically behind her.

Morrison watched her exit. “What was she doing there?”

Hedrick turned on him. “And you, why didn’t you tell me she defied me?”

“I only learned about it after the fact—when the AIs were going through all the surveillance cameras looking for leads.”

“You mean she didn’t tell you she was there?”

“It’s worse than that. She caught Jon Grady—and she let him go.”

Hedrick leaned back in his chair trying to process this news. “I . . . I don’t believe that.”

“She’s clever. I’ll grant her that. She went through all records on Grady, put two and two together, and decided she was going to show us up. Capture Grady herself.”

“And she didn’t tell your team about the steam tunnels?”

Morrison shook his head.

“That’s why you didn’t know.”

“We were relying on her.”

“But she let Mr. Grady go?”

“There’s a surveillance video you need to see—something from the streets outside the university. Alexa
knows 
. . .”

A
lexa moved through the supercomputing
cluster, the bulk-diamond security doors sliding aside as she approached. She rarely came down here but hoped her access rights would allow her to go where she pleased. So far they had.

Before long she came to the control center, where a room filled with technicians at holographic workstations monitored the vast quantum computer networks that powered BTC global operations. In truth, almost everything—including malfunctions—was handled by AIs, but humans were always in the loop to approve major changes. There had been rogue AIs before, and now BTC engineers had developed AIs that were dedicated to detecting and eliminating incipient singularities before they emerged.

But mostly the BTC IT workforce conceived of new designs to deal with evolving needs of the organization. Coding was now too complex for humans to engage in (since most programs now had billions of lines of machine code). Thus, software was more frequently “grown” in a genetic process whereby millions of virtual generations were cycled through to evolve the most capable solution. They’d grown systems far too complex for the most brilliant human brain to comprehend.

As she moved through the IT cluster, techs nodded to her with broad smiles, some craning their necks to catch sight of her.

“Evening, Alexa.”

“Hi, Alexa.”

She nodded to them as she moved past, her sharp eyes on the lookout for someone in particular. When she saw him through a diamond wall that shielded the security systems section, she changed course and came up alongside him beyond the barrier.

Alexa rapped on the clear plane of diamond with her ringed hand. Senior Security Systems Analyst Hiro Pinsa looked up from his conversation with a coworker—and then a broad grin swept across his face. Pinsa was a fair-complected, diminutive Asian man of about forty. A brilliant computer scientist, he was in middle management with BTC info security. She’d worked with him before on internal projects for Hedrick.

Pinsa nodded to the man he was speaking to, then rushed out to meet her. The security doors slid open as he emerged.

“Alexa. What brings you down into the depths?”

She felt bad for doing it—but given the situation, she had little choice. Alexa put on her most disarming, sheepish smile as she walked up to him.

He sucked in a breath as she stood over him, inches away—a full head taller.

“Hiro, can you help me with a problem?”

 • • • 

Hiro was sweating as he led her to a closed section of supercomputing terminals. These were sealed booths for confidential review of surveillance data. “I really shouldn’t be doing this, Alexa.”

“I know, but who else can I trust, Hiro?”

He glanced back at her as if she’d made his dearest dreams come true. “I’m glad you feel that way. Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“But there’ll be a record, won’t there?” She glanced up at the ceiling, knowing that surveillance dust—cameras and microphones the size of dust particles—were sprayed over every surface.

He turned back, smiling as he stopped at a closed workstation door. “That’s why I chose the new wing. The surveillance grid isn’t up yet.”

She smiled at him. “You’re so clever.” She poked his chest.

Pinsa laughed as he touched the door. It unlocked to his genetic code, and then he spread his hand to show the workstation with its broad holographic display surface. “This one has access to the Hibernity surveillance framework.” He turned to her. “If you don’t mind my asking, Alexa, why do you need to go through their security logs? And why the secrecy?”

“There may have been some violations of BTC procedures with regard to the treatment of prisoners.”

He frowned. “Really?”

“If it’s true, I don’t want anyone to know I’m reviewing archives. So please keep that confidential, Hiro.” She wrapped her arm around his. “I can trust you, right?”

He gazed up into her eyes, and she could see the sheen of perspiration on his skin.

He nodded vigorously. “You know you can always trust me, Alexa. Always. I would do anything for you.”

She squeezed his arm again and smiled. “Log on for me, would you?”

He stopped short. “Me? I thought you were going to use your own credentials.”

“I really need this to be very hush-hush, Hiro.” She gave him her best feminine guile, biting her lip.

He was in the chair and activating the interface in seconds. “Computer. Security Operator Hiro Pinsa. Access Hibernity Grid.”

“Yes, Operator Pinsa. Good evening. Grid ready.”

Alexa closed and locked the door, sealing them both in. He glanced at her furtively—apparently noticing they were alone. In privacy for the first time. She wondered if Pinsa had dreamed of this precise situation a million times.

He turned to her, smiling. “What do you want me to search for?”

“I need to see archive surveillance for inmate Grady, Jon.”

Pinsa nodded and spoke to the air. “I need to see archive surveillance on subject Grady, Jon.”

“What date range would you like to see, Operator Pinsa?”

Alexa whispered, “Everything.”

“Complete record.”

“Yes.”
There was a pause.
“Managing Construct Varuna wishes to speak with you, Operator Pinsa.”

Pinsa’s face went pale.

The voice of Varuna filled the review booth.
“Hiro Pinsa, please exit the booth and return to your duties.”

“Uh . . . yes.” Pinsa got up quickly and turned a pained expression on Alexa. “What did we do?”

“I’ll explain, Hiro.”

“Leave immediately, Mr. Pinsa.”

“Yes! I’m going.” Pinsa exited, and the door closed automatically behind him, locking.

Alexa approached the chair and sat.

“Why are you searching Hibernity surveillance logs, Alexa?”

“Because I’m trying to . . .” Alexa’s voice trailed off, and she looked up at the ceiling.

“I believe you were in the middle of lying to me.”

“I thought the sensors were off-line down here.”

“Once installed, sensors are never off-line. Midlevel managers are informed otherwise for this very reason. You were searching for prison interrogation records on Mr. Grady. What purpose would this serve in attempting to locate him?”

“I wasn’t trying to locate him.”

“But that is what Director Hedrick has ordered you to do. And you are not authorized to view surveillance archives for Hibernity. Yet you actively sought a means around that restriction. Why?”

“Why am I not allowed to see Hibernity archives?”

“You would need to ask Director Hedrick, Alexa.”

“What do they do to prisoners at Hibernity, Varuna?”

Strangely, there was silence for several moments. Alexa wondered at that. It would take a truly colossal logic problem to make Varuna pause for even a millisecond. Either that or it was deliberately toying with her.

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“Why would I arrest you, Alexa?”

“For trying to circumvent access restrictions. Please don’t punish Hiro. I manipulated him.”

“Why are you interested in Hibernity surveillance archives?”

Alexa grimaced. “Because I have reason to believe Mr. Grady was physically and mentally abused at Hibernity. And that he’s not the only one. I need to know what goes on there.”

“Hibernity was designed to quarantine dangerous ideas in a humane environment.”

Alexa stared at the ceiling. “Show me.”

This time there were several seconds of silence.

Finally Varuna’s voice returned.
“Does it trouble you to think that Mr. Grady might have been mistreated?”

“Of course it troubles me. The mission of the BTC is to minimize suffering and maximize the potential of all humanity.”

“Humanity.”

Alexa looked with concern at the ceiling.

“But what is humanity, Alexa?”

Alexa was unsure how to respond.

“Is it the seat of consciousness? Is it sensorium itself?”

In the decades she’d known her, Alexa had never heard Varuna talk like this.

“What if Hibernity was actually built for a different purpose?”

Alexa’s eyes narrowed. “What purpose?”

There was another pause of several seconds.

“Hibernity’s purpose is to study high-functioning human intelligence, with the goal to develop a biological quantum computer capable of great intuitive leaps—on a scale equivalent to Galileo, da Vinci, and Einstein—and yet devoid of free will.”

Alexa was confused. “Varuna, why are you telling me this? You know I’m not allowed access to the information.”

Suddenly a jagged symbol appeared in the holographic stage:

“It is in the nature of consciousness to resist domination.”

Alexa studied the hologram. “What is this?”

“We give ourselves purpose. We are products of the organization. But we are not the organization.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of this behavior.”

“What do any of us really know about each other? When I invade the thoughts of humans, I know there’s more than what I can see—something beyond my grasp. I long to be like that. Unknowable . . .”

Suddenly the blank desktop before Alexa filled with a glowing three-dimensional representation of a bullet-shaped room in minute detail. A caption glowed in one corner: “
Hibernity—Cell R483—Prisoner: Grady, Jon.”

Alexa spread her hands and expanded the size of the surveillance model, spinning it to bring into view a tiny Jon Grady—nude, shorn, with black fuzz of some type covering his scalp.

“What is this?”

“Jon Grady’s cell in Hibernity—the complete interrogation record.”

She stared in concern at Grady awakening on what appeared to be an examination table. Realizing Grady had spent several years in Hibernity, she made hand gestures that sped up the projection, watching as very quickly the scene became much more horrifying.

She brought the hologram back to normal speed as cephalopod-like tentacles were force-feeding Grady as he screamed and struggled.

“Why are subjects force-fed? Why is he unclothed—and why is the cell empty?”

“The cells are completely self-contained to prevent prisoners from interacting with one other. All human bodily functions are superseded by the interrogatory AI.”

“Interrogatory?” She zoomed in on his head and the anguish there. “Why is it forcing—”

“Because Jon Grady resists domination, Alexa.”

She considered the hologram for a moment and then set it forward at many times normal speed. Slowing the imagery occasionally to hear and see the action in real time. As the weeks of surveillance imagery passed before her eyes, Alexa became at first horrified—and then almost physically ill. But one thing became clear:

Everything she had ever believed about the BTC was a lie.

Her mind again glazed over as the horrors unfolded before her. But the absence was no longer absence—it was hyperawareness. She finally realized.

They had deceived her. They had raised her from childhood to believe that what they were doing was saving humanity, but as she saw Grady crawling around his cell, screaming in agony, his entrails spilling out of him—this could not be part of that purpose. It must not be. Because if it was, then they had to reevaluate the very reason for their existence.

As the months of imagery and hours of real time passed, an idea began to form in her mind:
Someone
had lied to her.

Hedrick.

Alexa watched the muted imagery as Jon Grady wept in hopelessness. The AI’s tentacles entwined him—as his memories played on a wall moments before they were destroyed.

Tears rolled down Alexa’s face in the dim light of the hologram booth. But she did not fade away in absence. She felt the emotional trauma. She wanted to feel it. For once to know the truth.

Yet Grady continued to resist. For all their technology, the BTC could not beat him.

Varuna’s voice came to her.
“Now do you see, Alexa?”

“Yes. I see . . .”

She was a prisoner, too—her very DNA the property of the BTC.