Strangers and Shadows (36 page)

“That’s just it, it’s not an encryption they’re familiar with.  As of last night, they still didn’t have the message decrypted, and what qualifies it as weird, is that it originated somewhere in the Sixth Verse.”

That was weird,
Julia thought,
and more than a little disconcerting too.
 
The only people who should be able to comm the Seventh from the Sixth should be her people.  But why encrypt the comm with a key that they couldn’t decrypt?  Unless… 
“You think we have a mole over there?” Julia asked.

“I have no idea,” Dorian said.  “The thought certainly crossed my mind, but the level of programming needed to hide something like that from the nanites is almost impossible to do.  At any rate, I’m looking into it.”

“Good.  I want to know the contents of that comm as soon as it’s been decrypted.”

“Of course,” Dorian smiled.

Julia tried to return it, but failed. 
So much for everything going right,
she thought.

Dr. Mesham’s office was nearly deserted when Julia arrived.  It was more of a lab than an office, but the old names had a way of sticking around.  Besides, no one liked to think of themselves as a lab experiment.  Much better to visit an office.  The surfaces were all white and shiny.  They looked as if you could eat off of them.  The office reminded her of a speeder salesman’s showroom floor.

Bodies, floating in tanks, lined some of the walls.  One of those would be hers soon.  Dr. Mesham had come up with a way to grow the skins to full maturity without any particular sexual or genetic traits.  When a skin was needed, the genetic profile would be programmed into the blank skin’s DNA and just like that, one could have a new body in weeks instead of years.

From the look of the smiling Asian woman that had appeared to greet Julia, she was in her mid-thirties.  Her smile was warm and her handshake firm but not overly aggressive as you sometimes found among young professional types.  

“Lady White, welcome.  Dr. Mesham will be with you in just a moment.  He’s finishing up with some last minute tests that may have a bearing on your—situation.  He asked that I extend you every courtesy until he arrives.  Would you like some tea or something else to drink while you wait?”

“Tea would be lovely.”  Julia smiled graciously, hiding the fury she felt at the delay.  It was bad enough that a growing number of people were privy to her out of body situation.  The good doctor had better have something to impress her with if he was going to keep her waiting.

A few moments later, the assistant reappeared.  “I hope Oolong is okay, it’s all that we have left at the moment,” she said, setting the tray down.  She poured the tea. “Is there anything else I can get you?  Dr. Mesham should be out any moment now.”

“This is fine, dear, thank you.”

The assistant bowed her head and quietly left the room.  Julia enjoyed her tea as she waited.  It was rather good, she’d have to remember to find out where the doctor got it from.  

She was somewhere between the tea and the encrypted message in her head when Dr. Mesham arrived.

“Prime Minister, how kind of you to wait.”  Mesham was a pale man, and skinny, like a man who has missed many meals in pursuit of his research.  “No doubt my assistant informed you as to my whereabouts?” 

She wouldn’t say the man was nervous, but he was a touch skittish—a trait that made him both slightly annoying and endearing.  “Yes,
d
octor, she did.  It’s quite alright.”  She paused, expecting the doctor to present his findings, but after several moments, the silence between them lingered still.  “Well…?  What did you find?”

Her tone must have startled him because he instantly began to stammer on about settings, levels, and all manners of technical jargon.

“D
r.
Mesham, relax.  A little slower perhaps, and in less technical terms if you would.  Not all of us are able to keep up with a brilliant mind like yours.”

Mesham’s face reddened with embarrassment.  “Yes, of course… forgive me.  And, thank you.  I mean, for saying I was brilliant.”

“There is nothing to forgive, and you are welcome.  Please continue.”

Dr. Mesham pulled up a display.  Equations and calculations began running on the projected display.  “Basically, what all these numbers mean is that there isn’t enough room for both you and the other woman’s psyche in this body.  Hence, the break down of it.”

“Is there any serious risk to myself?”

“To your consciousness, no.  You could just, well, for lack of a better term, beam back up to the Mother and wait for your own body to be ready.  There does, however, appear to be significant risk to the body itself.  As this is new territory for all of us, there’s no telling how long it will take for the body to break down completely.  Even the nanites have begun to quit working.  They just slow down and stop moving.  My scans show that there is nothing wrong with them structurally, they just aren’t working for some reason.  I’m still working as to find out why this is happening.  Even if the body’s brain can’t handle two consciousnesses at the same time, the nanites should be able to repair whatever bodily damage is occurring, but clearly, they aren’t, and as of right now, I don’t have a guess as to why.”

“I see…”  It was a lot of information for Julia to take in and process.

“The safest course of action would be for you to vacate the body and wait for your new skin to be ready.”

“And how long will that take?”

“I’ve just made the final adjustments to the genetic coding and your skin will be ready in seventy-two hours, give or take.”

Julia sighed.  “That’s too long.  There are things in the works that require my physical presence.  I can’t be without a body for that long.  Besides, the Mother isn’t programmed yet for any kind of long-term storage.  I’d be just as likely to go insane in there without any kind of simulations to keep me occupied.  Isn’t there any way we can force Ava to retreat to the Mother?”

“I’m sorry, but we just don’t have anything beside theories at this point.  I’d be more than happy to test a few of them, but should anything go wrong, I can’t even begin to speculate how it might affect you.  It could conceivably damage your consciousness beyond repair.”

Julia frowned.  This was not something she was prepared to hear, but neither did she have time at the present moment to philosophize about it.  “Best guess, how long before this body gives out under the strain?”

Mesham slicked back a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes.  “Honestly, it could happen at any time between now and the end of the week.  And the risk...  I just don’t know.  We’re dealing with a first here.  I simply don’t have enough data to even hazard a guess with.”

“But you said that worst-case scenario, I’d be summoned back to the Mother should my body die.”

“
Should be
being the key words there—and that’s also assuming that enough healthy nanites remain to support the up-link, but at the rate that they are going offline, I can’t guarantee it.”

There was risk either way, Julia knew, but it did appear that the safest play was for her to up-link to the Mother and wait until her new skin was ready.  She cursed that she’d had to abandon her body in the Sixth before a back up skin was ready to go.  They also needed more data, as the good doctor had pointed out, on her unique situation.  The Mother Brain Construct had never been intended to be used like this with two beings in one body, at least not for such an extended length of time.

“Take a sample of the deactivated nanites from me.  I want a full work up done as soon as possible.  Like you said, we need more information.  For the mean time, I will remain in this body.  If after twenty-four hours you haven’t found a way to stabilize it, I’ll give it back to it’s previous owner and wait for my skin to be ready.”

“Sounds good,” Dr. Mesham commented.

“Does it,
D
octor?”

He was about to reply when it dawned on him that the question was rhetorical.  “If you’ll come this way, Lady White, I’ll take the necessary samples.”

Once Twice Trace

The rain fell down in buckets as Dorian opened his umbrella and stepped out of the speeder in front of the building that was home to Communications. 
All of our fancy toys,
Dorian thought,
and we still haven’t come up with anything more practical than an umbrella for dealing with the rain.

The entrance was only a few meters from the curb and, in a matter of seconds, he was folding the now soaked umbrella and handing it to the doorman, who also took his coat.

The receptionist made eye contact as Dorian neared her.  “Is Lankford in his office or at his post?”

She put in the request to find out.  “One moment please, sir.”

While he waited, Dorian glanced around the reception area.  A member of the janitorial staff was mopping up a spill.  Several analysts were gathered around, chatting as they waited for their speeders to arrive out front.  Or perhaps they were just waiting for the rain to die down, he couldn’t tell.  You never knew with those nerd types.  

“Sir?”  It was the receptionist.  “Mr. Lankford is currently in his office, but he said he will meet you in the control room.”

“Very well then.”  Dorian made his way toward the lift.

The receptionist rose swiftly from her chair.  “Sir, I’m afraid you’ll need a member of security to escort you there.”

Dorian shot her an incredulous look.  “Even with my clearance level?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.  According to the protocols you yourself put in place as of last night.”

Slightly embarrassed at not having remembered changing the security protocols, Dorian conceded.  “Alright, let’s make it snappy though, shall we?”

Two security officers showed up moments later.  “Right this way, sir.”  

Communications was not a glamorous posting.  In fact, by and large, it was almost entirely automated.  The scanners would pick up the calls, the computers would decrypt them, and then analyze the contents, flagging anything that seemed out of the ordinary.  Once a message was flagged, the human element finally came into play.  One of three analysts would be given the message and then it would be determined to be a significant event or not.  If it required immediate action, the intel would be forwarded to the appropriate channels.  If it was merely suspicious, a file would be started and any old or new data coming in would be cross-referenced for a connection.

Lankford had had a long night.  It had been years since they’d last had a message that couldn’t be decrypted by the usual channels.  He actually couldn’t remember the last time, it had been that long ago.  After calling in the cryptologists and sending out the appropriate notifications to the higher-ups, he’d had little time for sleep.  None, actually. He had been about to lay his head down on the desk in his office when he was informed of Dorian’s arrival, and he only just made it back to the control room when Dorian came strolling in, escorted by two security officers.

“Lankford, you old bastard, how you been?”  Dorian clapped the man on the back.  “You get much sleep last night?  You look like shit, man.”

“Gee, thanks ya son of a bitch.  I didn’t get
any
sleep, I’ll have you know.  So if I start snoring, it’s probably only because you’re incredibly boring to listen to.”  Lankford cracked a smile.

“Aww, quit your crying, Lanky.  You always were a little baby.”  One of the two confused security officers gave a cough.  “Oh, right,” Dorian said.  “Dismissed.”

Their ritual ribbing completed, the former college roommates got to the business at hand.  “So what can you tell me, Lank?”

Lankford yawned.  “Still no luck on decrypting the contents, but we did manage to back track the origin of the comm.”

“We already know it came from the Sixth.”

“No, the precise origin.”  He couldn’t help but smile at his old buddy.

“Am I to guess where?” Dorian asked.  “Don’t make me beat it out of you.”

Lankford pulled up a display.  “Here are the exact coordinates that the call originated from… in Cairo.”

Dorian watched as the display zoomed in on the location, finally coming to rest on a familiar building, one he knew from several briefings, as well as from personal interest.  “Desmond.”

“We don’t know for sure, but seeing as he does live in that building, he is our prime suspect.”

“Leaving us without the contents of the comm, or who he was talking to.”  Dorian pursed his lips, deep in thought.  “Can we track the receiver on this end?”

“Sadly, no.  We tried, but whoever took the call on this end knew how to hide their tracks very well.”

“I trust you’ll keep at it.”

Lankford nodded.  “It may take several days, but eventually we’ll decrypt the damn thing.”

The door flew open revealing a young man who was gasping for air.  He locked eyes with the senior analyst.  “Sir, we have an ongoing comm right now, sir.”

The alarm with which the young comm operator spoke got Lankford’s heart racing.  “What?  When did it begin?”