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Absolute Knowledge Box Set (Books 1-3)

Page 93

by Drew Cordell


  Neal smiled. “One more thing about work and then we can talk about something else. Some of the AI I’ve been working on seems to have mutated, the changes are all within acceptable parameters, and I wanted to show you the code before anyone else noticed. We can go over everything tomorrow,” he said. Neil knew Miranda would discover the code, and as long as it looked like the code had mutated itself, then he would be fine. He had no other choice but to trust Archangel and believe that he could convince Miranda that nothing treasonous had occurred.

  “Wow, I look forward to it. Now, let’s talk about something other than work. We’ve been working together for years, and I feel like I barely know anything about you aside from your intelligence.”

  “Well, I’m single, I’m the biggest geek you’ll probably ever meet, and I like watching movies on my spare time. You?”

  “I’m the biggest geek you’ll probably ever meet. I’m also single, and I also like watching movies,” she responded.

  The two talked for about an hour, finishing their meals and enjoying each other’s company.

  “I’m glad we got to do this. Would you care to go to my room to watch a movie?” she asked.

  “I’d love that,” Neil responded. There was a vibration in his pocket, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket to examine it.

  ‘We’re in the clear. Enjoy your date,’ the message read. The number displayed as unknown.

  Unsure of what to feel, Neil pushed the power button on his phone and followed Miranda back to her room for the movie, deciding to focus on spending time with her rather than stress over something he couldn’t control.

  “Neil?” she asked as they walked to her room.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can we make a stop in your room? I’d like to browse your movie collection if that’s alright.” Miranda’s voice was wavering, and she looked upset about something.

  “Yeah sure. Are you okay?” Neil asked, changing direction and unlocking his door.

  “Yes, all the pressure of work is just getting to me, I guess,” she responded, looking at something on her phone before replacing it in her pocket.

  When he reached down and pulled out the bin of dusty DVD cases, he inhaled a sharp, acrid chemical that made his head spin. Miranda was holding a cloth to his face, and her hands were gloved. He tried to say something, but his voice was stifled. Neil toppled over and fell on his side, his head bouncing off the carpet with a dull thud.

  “Thank you for installing Archangel’s code. It’s crucial that they don’t suspect me. I’m so sorry for this.”

  Neil tried to stand, but he felt so weak. “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry it had to be you, I really am,” she said, tears streaming down her face. She pulled out a long knife, the silver blade glistened in the LED lights of his room. “Neil, honey, if you breathe deeply, you won’t feel a thing,” she said as she placed the tip of the blade on his wrist. “I don’t want you to feel this.”

  She placed the cloth against his face with her other hand, and he held his breath, trying to stand and fight. His body was useless, and he was forced to take a deep breath of the harsh chemical. He felt a pinch on his wrist then distant heat. Everything stopped, and he slipped into the enveloping darkness.

  1964

  “Jeremy, I’m not going to hurt you, I’d just like to explain things. Can you come here please?” Travis asked the man. Jeremy was slowly moving toward him, and Travis hoped he would join his cause. Jeremy would be a valuable asset, but he was also a liability now, one that needed to be addressed.

  “I’m getting the guards,” Jeremy said, stepping backward.

  “That’s not necessary. We’ve worked together for years. Just come talk with me, I’ll show you a few things, and you’ll be happy you did.”

  Travis could see the reluctance on Jeremy’s face, but he still walked toward him, into the light of the main room.

  “Good. Now, the first thing you need to understand is that I don’t think the Government has put enough emphasis on the robotics sector of this project. I think you’ll agree with me there?”

  Jeremy gave a weak nod.

  “I know these Automatons are your life’s work, and you have to believe that I’d never do anything to compromise their well-being. Everything I’ve done has been with care and respect toward all your work. Some of the code I’ve been working on has discovered, through its own means, certain optimizations for the Automatons that will allow us to do more with them. If the higher-ups found out I’m utilizing time and resources to developing these discoveries, they might shut it down, and that’s not something I’d like to happen.”

  “How long have you been doing this?” Jeremy asked.

  “A while now, I ask for either your help or for you to stay quiet so I can continue my work. I guarantee that it’s going to benefit us all. Of course, if anything goes wrong I’ll take the full blame, but I’m being very careful with my work.”

  “That routine, they’re being controlled by the Mainframe, and you got the optics to work?” Jeremy asked.

  “Yes, the Mainframe actively mutates the code to allow them to listen to voice commands and interact with their environment.”

  “That’s unbelievable,” Jeremy marveled as he walked forward and observed the Automaton.

  “Think of the implications, we can have robots working for the country, and eventually maybe even robots fighting our wars for us. How many lives could we save if our soldiers were all machines?” Travis said, inspecting Jeremy and trying to read his expressions.

  “Show me how it works.”

  Travis nodded and walked him over to the Mainframe. He pulled up the code and walked Jeremy through what he had been working on without revealing any of his Invisible Hand protocol. Jeremy asked questions throughout the explanation, but listened carefully and nodded his head as it was explained. “Are you with me, Jeremy?”

  “If I’m not?” he asked.

  “There is no if, I’m not going to threaten you or hurt you. You’re either with me or not, I can’t stop your decision. I only hope that you consider the possibilities of what we can do together.”

  Jeremy hesitated. “Why did you lie to me about Automaton Four?”

  “I’m sorry I lied, I was very pressed for time the night Ben tried to kill me. Plugging in Automaton Four was the only thing I lied about. Ben went crazy and tried to kill me over nothing, it had nothing to do with the Automatons.”

  “I guess I’m with you, then,” Jeremy replied, apparently satisfied with the answer.

  “We’re going to do great things together. Let’s get to work.”

  2026

  It had been one year since she had killed Neil. Archangel’s vivid instructions on how to kill and her trust in him had paid off. It would take years for the project to achieve its goal state, but Miranda had time on her side. She had considered Neil, a real friend, but her duty to Archangel superseded anything else in her life. She never questioned orders from Archangel—she couldn’t. His promises for her future were too great—unfathomable even. Miranda didn’t understand his need for secrecy, but she knew she was involved in something greater than herself. When she felt discouraged, she would remind herself of that fact and wait for the promises of Archangel to come to light.

  When she had played her part, when she could take her rightful place in the new world, everything would be better. She could escape all the mindless bureaucracy, all the antiquated procedures, and frivolous safeguards that restricted true progress. Archangel’s code was working under the radar, but she couldn’t help but imagine what it could do if it utilized all the system’s available resources.

  “Ma’am?” a man asked, leaning into her office.

  “Come in, Sean,” she said, pulling herself out of her thoughts and back into her reality.

  “I just wanted to check if you reviewed my new subsystem? I don’t want to expand on it until it has your approval.”

  “Did you run it throu
gh the Mainframe?” she asked.

  “Yeah, of course. The system accepted the code, it’s just waiting on administrative approval.”

  “I’ll sign off on it today. Thank you, Sean,” she said. The man gave a slight smile and disappeared. He was Neil’s replacement, and she had no attachment to him. Killing Neil had taken an emotional toll on her, but she wouldn’t hesitate if she had to kill Sean, he meant nothing to her.

  She despised the responsibility of signing off on code changes that were accepted by the Mainframe, the most intelligent thing on earth. She looked down and saw that her hands were shaking, they always did when she thought too hard. Miranda took a swig of coffee and opened a drawer on her desk, pulling out a pill bottle and tossing two orange pills into her mouth. She downed them, and her hands stabilized within a few minutes.

  ‘You’ve been activated again. Pull this off, and we’re set for the future,’ the message on her phone displayed.

  ‘Then will I meet you?’ she typed back.

  ‘Of course, my dear. In time, all will be as promised.’

  Miranda walked past the Automatons that were patrolling the outside of the server room. She waved her badge and the light on the door flashed green before sliding open. Moving at a brisk pace, she moved to the control station and ran the code given to her by Archangel. She clicked on the Paragon.exe file and heard a low drone as everything halted to a stop. The main lights flickered then darkened, and she was left in darkness. Three seconds later, the emergency lights sparked to life and dimly lit the room she was in. Without the turbo vents pumping in fresh air, it was growing hot, and she could feel the air stagnating. Without the vents running, airflow to the underground facility was limited.

  She felt her phone buzz.

  ‘Nothing is wrong, give me a few minutes,’ the message from Archangel read.

  ‘Do you want me to stay in the server room or move somewhere else?’

  ‘Stay there, I’ll need you to reboot the servers once the system recovers.’

  There was another hum as power was restored and all the servers began their recovery process. When the console came back online, Miranda started the reboot cycle for the servers and started toward her office.

  “I’ve alerted the Director about the outage. Preliminary reports show that everything is normal now,” Sean said as he walked alongside her.

  “It looks like it was just a minor issue with the power grid. Let’s get technicians down to the reactor to take a look.”

  “They’re already on it.”

  “Good, I’m going to call Central.”

  ‘We’re good to go. You’re now deactivated. Await further activation and instruction,’ the phone displayed.

  Miranda returned to her office and dialed for the Director.

  2038

  “With your approval, Mr. President, we’ll commence the activation of the quantum fluid,” Miranda said, looking to the President who stood in the observation deck overlooking the project floor.

  The President, Kenneth Parsons, gave a thumbs-up and a broad smile. The CIA Director stood beside him, looking nervous. Miranda gave the signal to her technicians, and they flipped the large metal valves lining the walls. Thick, black sludge seeped from the pipes and began to crawl toward the center.

  “Magnetizing. Twenty-five percent,” Miranda said as she entered a command on her tablet.

  A quiet pop followed by a dull buzz washed over the cavernous room and the sludge flowed to the center of the chamber, breaking off in thick globs and forming a sphere.

  “Fifty percent,” the globs were moving faster, flowing along the floor and towards the growing sphere of dark mass. The black compound glistened in the LED lights of the room and rippled as it gained mass.

  “Magnetization at one hundred percent. Initializing energy stabilizers.”

  A ring of energy erupted around the sphere, and bright, blue light bounced off the reflective coat of the surface. Miranda turned off the magnetization when the last of the fluid had assembled.

  “On your mark, sir, we’ll connect it to the system,” she said, looking to the President once more. Again, the man raised his thumb in approval.

  Miranda activated the system, and the connection light turned green. “Connection complete. Everything is stable.”

  The technicians continued to run diagnostics while Miranda walked to the observation room to speak with the Director and President. She passed through the dense, blast-proof hall and entered the observation room. The President smiled and approached, but his Secret Service walked up and patted down Miranda.

  “That’s hardly necessary,” the President told them.

  “Sorry, sir. It’s protocol since we didn’t sweep the premises,” one of the large men in a crisp black suit said.

  The President gave a nod and once again moved forward, shaking Miranda’s hand. “You’ve done great work for your country, Miss Fletcher. On behalf of our nation, I congratulate you,” the tall man said.

  “It’s an honor, Mr. President. I couldn’t have done it without my team and those that came before me in the foundation of this historical project.”

  “Your work will be a great asset to this country, in both decision making and as a staple of national defense.”

  “Yes sir, I’m excited for the future of our nation. I’m glad that I could accomplish something like this in my lifetime.”

  A crashing wave rippled through the facility and Miranda was thrown to the ground. Her ears were ringing, and her vision was blurred. The Secret Service were still on their feet with their weapons drawn, huddling around the President. They were yelling something, but all Miranda could hear was a high-pitched ringing. She stood and tried to walk, but staggered back and braced herself on the cracked observation glass. The sphere of sludge was intact, but there was a huge hole in the ceiling of the facility. Long coils of rope dropped from the breach and armed, masked soldiers descended the cables and started moving around the facility, shooting the technicians that were trying to recover from the explosion. Miranda stood in shock, watching her coworkers die to the automatic weapons.

  Miranda felt a strong pair of hands pull her back and she was escorted by the others through the hallway away from the intruders.

  “Stay close, keep your head down,” the armed men said as they ushered the group toward the safe room of the facility. Intruders rounded the corner and fired their rifles. Two of the Secret Service fell to the floor, and others moved forward to take their place, firing their weapons and forcing the intruders to take cover. The other guards moved the rest of the group the other way, moving quickly toward the large doors of the intact safe room.

  “Don’t stop running, and don’t open the door for anyone until you’ve got the clear signal from the White House,” an agent said as he took a defensive position behind a door, readying his submachine gun to defend against the invaders.

  The CIA Director, the President, and Miranda reached the safe room, and the doors swung shut, locking from the inside.

  “How the hell?” the Director said, loosening his tie and trying to calm his breathing. He was not a small man, and thick lines of sweat poured down his face.

  “Terrorists,” the President said. “I don’t know how they found this facility, it’s been off the map since it was created.”

  Miranda kicked off her heels and paced around the large room. They had enough food and water to survive for a year, but she knew that her life’s work was over, that everything she had worked for was now in the hands of an unknown enemy. She would never meet Archangel now, she would never experience his promises.

  “The Secret Service will hold them back, and they’ll send back up. We’ll be out of here in no time,” the President said.

  “That’s not true, and you know it. We could be in here for days,” the Director said, taking a seat and placing his head in his hands.

  There was a flicker on the security screens and then all the cameras went dark.

  “Weren’t tho
se on an independent network?” the President cried.

  “Yes, they’re not supposed to go offline even if the whole facility loses power,” Miranda said, frantically trying to decipher what was happening. There was a click as one of the latches on the door unlocked.

  “What’s doing that? Stop them!” the President yelled as the second latch on the door unlocked.

  Miranda scrambled to the controls, but the panel was frozen. “They’ve hacked everything, there’s nothing I can do!” she yelled in despair.

  The final latch unlocked and the door swung open. Six armed soldiers stood to the side of a man dressed in some sort of black armor. The man was wearing a helmet with a dark face plate that concealed his face. He wielded a submachine gun and had a large knife strapped across his chest. He raised the gun and fired a crackling burst into the Director. There was a deafening silence as the Director fell from the chair onto the floor in a crumpled heap.

  The leader reached into his backpack and pulled out a square camera. He tossed it to Miranda.

  “My dear, please turn on the camera and don’t stop filming.”

  Miranda turned on the camera and filmed, her heart pounded in her chest.

  “I, an authorized agent of the Russian Government consciously commit an act of war on the United States of America. I’ve leaked the records which cryptographically prove that my orders are straight from the Kremlin. With this, I sentence you, President Kenneth Parsons, to die for the glory of Russia.”

  “No, don’t do this,” the President cried, moving back against the wall. The armed man raised his weapon and shot the President. Miranda sunk to her knees when he collapsed to the floor, and she felt hot tears pouring down her face. She closed her eyes and awaited her death, but felt a gloved finger brush away her tears.

  “Turn off the camera,” the man said.

 

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