by D. B. Goodin
“So . . . you’re planning on taking over the world?” Nigel said.
“No, silly!” Delta said. “I’m doing my best to improve it. I will provide a real-world example. Take our friend Jony, here. He committed several crimes over the years—many violent ones like the assault on my mum. Even though the evidence was overwhelming, he was never convicted. There have been many studies on violent criminal behavior over the years. According to a 2011 study, the average recidivism (i.e., repeat offender) rate was 43 percent of all released prisoners.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to murder them!” Jet said.
“No . . . but it makes me feel better!” Delta said as her voice changed from a sweet little girl to a maniacal psychotic.
Delta waved her hand over a set of monitors in the rear part of the room.
“I now control 63 percent of the world’s most powerful artificial intelligence infrastructure. I expect that to change a few percentages points once I finish acquiring AlphaFour—the Black Iris AI!”
“How do you plan on controlling the rest of it?” Nigel said.
Hope you’re thinking of a plan, Nigel, because I have nothing, Jet thought.
“The world has become accustomed to their smart devices. The populace can’t go more than five minutes without touching a smartphone or tablet. So I’ve improved on Grandfather’s plan on installing embedded, hard-to-find malware on every browser. I’ve already installed a worm on 88 percent of all internet of things (IOT) devices. Now that the infrastructure’s in place, I’m pushing out phase one as we speak,” Delta said.
“What’s phase one?” Jet said.
“Phase one is the identification phase. Millions of records that Grandfather has been storing on various Deep Web servers will be unleashed. We will ring in the New Year with a recounting of all the bad stuff that people do!”
“So, let me see if I have this straight. You’re doxing a few million people?” Nigel said.
“No—hundreds of millions. In seconds, thousands of surface web forums will be inundated with the real truth about all sorts of bad apples,” Delta said.
“There’s one fatal flaw in your plan. You’re going to flood the internet with the biggest distributed denial of service attack in history!” Nigel said.
“Wrong! We’ve already taken that into consideration. We are using CloudShield’s content delivery network (CDN) system to make sure that doesn’t happen. We are also utilizing the delivery system of the Colossal Machine.”
“What’s phase two?” Nigel asked.
Delta said nothing.
“Come on—you mentioned phase one, so you’ve got to have a phase two!” Nigel said.
“Stop mocking me!” Delta said using her mean voice.
“That was mean, Nigel. You should be ashamed of yourself,” Jet said.
Jet winked at Nigel once Delta turned to observe another monitor.
“My apologies, but I want to know,” Nigel said with genuine interest.
Delta turned back and gave Nigel a cold smile. “I will give the world a few weeks to recover before I unleash the bounty system,” she giggled.
“What bounty system?” Jet said.
“Grandfather came up with an ingenious idea to punish the bad people. We cannot expect the courts to prosecute everyone. That would take far too long and cost the taxpayers billions. So, Grandfather created a system to add a price on their heads commensurate with the severity of their crimes. Whoever dispatches the worst criminals, terrorists, and other high-profile undesirables, and provides proof, such as an unmodified picture or a head, gets a handsome bounty payable in DigiBit. This should set an example for all other would-be criminals—don’t you think?” Delta said.
She is insane! Jet thought.
“Do I even want to know if there is a phase three?” Nigel said.
“You do!” Delta said in her crazy voice.
Delta moved around the room like a mad scientist checking on deadly experiments. Nigel saw it: an exposed USB port. Now, if he could just reach the damned thing. Nigel crept closer to the computer. Delta turned to face Nigel.
“Phase three is more complicated. We must handle it with utmost care. That is why Grandfather hired this man.” Delta waved a hand. On one of the monitors Nigel saw a man in his early thirties with long hair. He was wearing a rugged fedora and a trench coat. He was waiting for something.
“Who is this?” Nigel said.
Delta smiled.
“He is the man responsible for this.” Delta pointed at Nigel’s neck, and then the scar on his head.
“Gregor?” Nigel said. He realized that he was clutching his hands into fists. Jet gave Nigel a worried look.
I don’t like the way this is going, Jet thought.
Delta brought up another image of a man he had gotten to know over the past several days. Nigel just stared at the screen.
“Who is he?” Jet said.
“His name is Hunter, and he is one of Nigel’s traveling companions. He’s also responsible for Nigel’s current physical condition,” Delta said.
“How do you know this?” Nigel said.
“I think you know the answer to that question already. Using your precious internet, I could bring up all sorts of . . . information,” Delta continued.
“Is that true, Nigel?” Jet said.
“I don’t know,” Nigel said. He grabbed his head as if it was in pain. “The nightmare’s come again—this time while I’m awake,” Nigel muttered in a low voice.
Jet gave Nigel a concerned look.
“I never got a good look at him,” Nigel said, still clutching his head.
Jet moved to his side and gave him a hug.
“It’s okay. I’m here,” Jet said as she rubbed his back.
Jet noticed that Delta had a maniacal grin. She’s enjoying his torment! April is truly dead.
“What’s the meaning of this? Why dredge this up? Can you see you’re hurting him?” Jet said in disgust.
“I bring it up because he needs to know who his enemies are. I know why he’s here, and why they are,” Delta said as she brought up another screen.
Hunter and Dahlia were fighting at least ten guards. Dahlia cracked a whip in one hand, and had a handgun in the other. The entire scene looked unreal, like a movie.
“Why did you come here, Nigel? Answer honestly, please,” Delta said.
“The Collective and Black Iris were being attacked. We followed the leads until we arrived here,” Nigel said.
“No—that is why they are here,” Delta said as she pointed at the screen. “Why are you here?”
Nigel gave Jet a sad and pained look. “I came here for you!”
Tears rolled down Jet’s face. Jet kissed Nigel.
“I know you’re here to deactivate me, and you stand a good chance. But is that what you want? For them to win?” Delta said.
“Natasha was a friend,” Nigel said.
Delta looked sad.
“She was your friend, by all the information I have gathered. Her actions never betrayed that. I’m sorry, Nigel,” Delta said.
Jet gave Nigel a fierce hug. It felt good to be next to her—to hold her.
“These people don’t care about you, Nigel. They are using you,” Delta said.
Another video played on the monitors. Alexei was talking with a man tied up. Another frame showed Viktor towering over the same man, who looked terrified. Viktor appeared to be having the time of his life. Nigel watched in horror as Viktor shot the man in cold blood.
“Who was he?” Nigel asked. “The man who got shot?”
“His name was Len Stanovich. His only crime was to create a program called Dark Glider. He was killed courtesy of Collective Systems, Inc.”
It all made sense now: the mismatched assignments, Mr. Tage’s slipup about Natasha being an agent, everything. Nigel felt cold, and very much alone.
“Now, remind me, who are your friends?” Delta asked.
She’s not wrong! Nigel thought.
He didn’t reply.
“Now, I don’t want to harm one of the good guys. It goes against my . . . nature,” Delta said.
Don’t you mean programming?
“So what are you saying is, if I don’t help you, then I’m a threat?” Nigel asked.
Delta considered this for a moment. Her head jerked a bit.
Is she malfunctioning?
“No, you are a good . . . guy!” she replied, and then froze.
Jet gave Nigel a worried look.
After several seconds, Delta recovered.
“No, Nigel, you’re not a threat.” She started twitching again, more violently. “You’re a bad actor!” Delta said in her mean voice.
Nigel thought for a moment. Melissa told me something the night Dahlia beat her. What was it?
“April, you are a paradox! April cannot live while Delta is alive. I demand that you release her!” Nigel said.
Delta’s twitching turned violent. She started thrashing for several seconds, and then she . . . stopped.
“Help me. We need to hook her up,” Nigel said.
“Why?” Jet asked.
“No time to explain—just do it!”
Nigel had a hard time connecting Delta back to her neural interface, but with Jet’s help, they got her hooked up.
“What’s wrong with Delta?”
“Delta is Jeremiah’s greatest creation,” Nigel explained. “Too bad he used his granddaughter to do it. They summoned us to Tage Manor to strategize on how to defeat Delta. A fight broke out, and Dahlia beat Melissa almost to a pulp. I moved Melissa into a private room . . . and she revealed the greatest secret of all,” Nigel said as he pointed at Delta.
Jet looked stunned.
“You put all of this together?” Jet asked.
“Not by myself. Melissa provided all the information. I just set things in motion.”
“Those strings of words—they were code?”
“Yes. Delta’s programming contains a fatal flaw. She was trying to set in motion her grandfather’s plan, which involved killing and allowing others to do it for . . . sport. That went against everything April stood for. She was young, but she loved all living things, and we almost lost her,” Nigel said.
“Almost. What do you mean? She’s alive?”
“Let’s hope so,” Nigel said as he turned on the machine.
Chapter 28
“They keep coming!” Dahlia said.
“How many have you killed, Mum?”
“I’ve lost track!”
“We should retreat and regroup,” Dahlia said.
Dahlia and Hunter were back-to-back near the front of the complex. Viktor and Alexei were defending the road that led up to the complex. Mani’s men seemed to be everywhere. Dahlia felt the breeze of hot lead.
That was too close.
“What’s that buzzing sound?” Hunter said.
Dahlia looked around her immediate area. The men were thinning out, and Viktor was reloading.
“The buzzing is getting louder,” Dahlia said.
“Look!” Hunter said.
Dahlia followed his gaze. Small, black shapes were coming out of the complex.
“What are those things?” Dahlia said.
“Drones?”
“They look like giant metal wasps.”
“Ouch!” Hunter said as he grabbed his neck.
Several of the wasp-like things had them surrounded. They were discharging small pellets at them; it was as if they were being shot at from tiny shotguns inside the wasps. Hunter held his face and screamed as the robots’ shots drew blood.
Dahlia reloaded.
My last clip. I’m taking out as many of these as I can.
She readied her whip. With a flick of her wrist, several of the flying wasp-bots fell to the ground. The effort was futile. When she disabled several with one snap of her wrist, twice as many would take their place. She continued using the whip and gun, dispatching as many of the winged bots as possible. Dahlia looked back at Hunter. He was consumed. His face was a bloody mess. The bots turned to Viktor, who ran out of bullets and attempted to pistol-whip the bots. Seconds later, he was swarmed, and the bots surrounded him. Dahlia saw red blotches appear on Viktor’s skin as the wasps shot him. He ran down the road—but he didn’t make it far. Seconds later, he collapsed.
Why am I still standing?
Other than a few lacerations, Dahlia experienced no injuries. Then, as if someone had turned them off, all the bots fell to the ground. Dahlia surveyed the grisly scene before her. Hunter and Viktor were down. She checked for signs of life: nothing. Dahlia stumbled down the path away from the complex and slipped and fell in the pool of blood surrounding Viktor’s body.
As she stood, she allowed herself to shed one solitary tear for Hunter, her only natural child.
He was to lead the others. What am I to do now?
Farther down the road, she saw the remains of Alexei. She felt a small pang of regret.
Too bad he outlived his usefulness, Dahlia thought.
Dahlia started the nearest ATV, and then began driving down the hill.
Dahlia pulled up next to Alexei’s plane.
There should be a radio I can use to contact the Sultan. I should know his emergency frequency. It’s too quiet here.
She climbed the stairs and entered the plane. The pilot bolted upright. He looked anxiously behind her.
“Where’s Alexei? Are we ready to leave?” the pilot asked.
“He’s dead, and I’m ready to leave.”
“Anyone else coming?”
Dahlia took a piece of paper from a pocket and handed it to the captain. “Fly to these coordinates.”
Dahlia took a seat and covered her eyes. The pilot didn’t make a move to do anything.
“We’re not moving! What’s wrong?” Dahlia said.
“I . . . need authorization from the owner of this craft.”
Dahlia closed the distance. Dahlia didn’t react when the man’s sharp, musky odor assaulted her nostrils. Her lips caressed the outside of his ear. She heard the man’s quickness of breath, and she placed a hand on the man’s chest. His heart raced. I think he is ready to fly now. In a single motion, she pressed the sharp end of a blade at the pilot’s throat.
“Fly!”
Within minutes, the airplane was traveling just west of the island. Dahlia picked up a phone that connected her to a satellite uplink.
“I’m coming to you, Nas.” The clouds were thick, but they revealed patches of ocean below. “No—the mission was a failure. We need to regroup. I’m executing the Siloed Initiative, so make the preparations. That old bastard will not rule the world by himself . . . not on my watch!”
Mr. Tage picked up the phone in his study.
“You have it?” Mr. Tage said.
“I do, but what about my payment?”
“You shall have it . . . but I require one other favor. Are you up to the task?”
“It depends. What is it?”
“The Mason Foundation needs a lesson in manners. That . . . girl cost me a lot of money. Do you think you can handle it?” Mr. Tage asked.
“Consider it done.”
“Excellent. I’ve thrown in a bonus for you,” Mr. Tage said.
“What bonus?”
“Permanent custody of your son, Ralphie. I know the judge who will preside over your upcoming hearing. Let’s just say that he is very sympathetic to having Ralphie move to Florida,” Mr. Tage said.
“Excellent!”
Five months later
Nigel stood in the line with Jet and Milo. A sea of blue was ahead of them, and the sun was out. He didn’t mind waiting a moment longer.
The moment is here. In a few minutes, I will be a free man!
An old man stood at a podium and spoke his name. Nigel felt his heart skip a beat as he walked to the podium to claim the fruits of his labors: his high school diploma. He waited on the other side of the stage for Jet and Milo to join him.
I’m glad m
y artificial throat is gone, Nigel thought.
“What are you going to do now that you’re out of school, Nige?” Milo said.
“I dunno. I think the Mason Foundation is hiring. They need good programming help to undo a lot of the bad things that Jeremiah implemented,” Nigel said. “What about you guys?”
“I will help my dad open a radio repair shop. He said I can go to college after the business is up and running,” Milo said.
Nigel looked at Jet. “Any plans?”
Jet blushed as she looked at Nigel.
“Come on, just kiss already,” Milo teased.
“I’m not sure what I will do,” Jet said. “My dad wants me to work with him. He got me an internship at his new job in Newport. But I may do something else.”
“Like what?” Nigel asked.
“I’m thinking of going to work for the Mason Foundation, too. I hear they need good security people.” Jet winked.
“It might be nice to take a break from school, and do something . . . meaningful,” Nigel said.
“Where is the foundation located?” Milo asked.
“Somewhere in Europe—Edinburgh,” Jet said.
“I’ve always wanted to go to Scotland,” Nigel said.
“Where’s Cassidy? I think she’s been avoiding me,” Jet said.
“She has lost her focus since the incident with the Collective. She hasn’t come out of her room in months.”
Jet gave Milo a sympathetic look.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Nigel said.
“Not sure, but you can try,” Milo said.
“Well, tell her to call me. Anytime!” Jet said.
“Nigel—over here!”
Nigel followed the voice. It was his mother, sitting in her wheelchair. John Appleton and Ralphie stood behind her. The teens embraced in a group hug. Jet kissed Nigel then said “go be with your family, we will catch up later.”
“I’m hungry! Let’s go to dinner already,” Ralphie said.
Nigel turned to wave at his friends.
It is good to have people who care for me, he thought.
