Binary Storm

by Christopher Hinz

  He was tempted to go for Witherstone’s favorite vodka, but the bottle of WeBoys rumored to be kept in his office was nowhere in sight so he settled for a modest brandy. Pouring a shot, he downed it in a single gulp.

  Bel broke the silence. “When they awakened you from stasis, E-Tech must have seemed like a breath of fresh air.”

  “A place where people truly believe in a better future, where they work to keep hope alive? Hell yes. That’s the main reason I joined up.”

  He had an urge for a second shot of brandy, and possibly a third and fourth one after that. Resisting, he sat back down. This time he’d didn’t use the pillows to come up to her level. He felt smaller but it had nothing to do with their size differential. Talking about his past, at least the parts he felt he could talk about, always took something out of him. It sapped his strength, somehow made him feel smaller, less significant.

  “I’m sorry for what happened to you,” Bel offered.

  “Don’t be. And I wasn’t trawling for sympathy. I just wanted you to know the truth about my earlier life.” Or as much of it as I can reveal.

  She seemed to be looking for a way to move the conversation to more fruitful topics. Nick was eager to oblige.

  “Anyway, Bel, getting back to that proclamation you want to give me. It wouldn’t be a good thing.”

  She frowned. “I guess being in the spotlight would jeopardize your relationships with your confidential informants.”

  “Yeah, that’s definitely a consideration.”

  “Of course I’ll honor your request. No proclamation, no celebration. But there are some things I’d like to know regarding the attack.”

  “Specifically?”

  “How did you realize that those two men in the elevator were a Paratwa? And how’d you so quickly identify the breed? Security was only able to confirm that after several days based on analysis of similar attacks.”

  Nick was tempted to get in another lick at Security’s incompetence but decided it wouldn’t be fair. He’d learned details about assassins from Ektor Fang that few humans were privy to.

  “Most breeds have giveaways. For the Shonto Prong, the telltale is a kind of nervous tapping, two fingers of corresponding hands. Plus, they’re known for using a decoy assassin.” He assumed she’d already seen the report on the Energía’s grisly demise.

  “What about that terminology you used? Pa and Ma, pinpoint assassination and mass annihilation. Intelligence isn’t familiar with it.”

  “Some of the assassins use those terms.” It was another tidbit he’d picked up from Ektor Fang. Like the Shonto Prong’s telltale, it was information he hadn’t passed on to E-Tech. Leaking too many details, even seemingly inconsequential ones of that sort, might enable the Royals to uncover the identity of his CI.

  Bel raised an eyebrow. “And you gleaned all this knowledge from your informants?”

  “Most of it.”

  “Then some of them must have direct access to binaries.”

  He shrugged in lieu of an answer.

  “How long have you been using these CIs?”

  “Some of them have been my sources for a few years. Others are more recent.”

  “And why don’t you share what you learn from them with the rest of E-Tech?”

  “I do.” He explained how he secretly fed much of the intel gathered from Ektor Fang and his other CIs into E-Tech’s database in a way that precluded the data from being traced back to its sources.

  Bel seemed to mull that over for a moment. When she spoke again, it was to bring up the one subject he’d hoped they could avoid.

  “I’m going to need the names of these informants and their background profiles.”

  “I can’t. We’re talking here about serious deep throats. Besides, I gave my word that their identities wouldn’t be compromised.”

  “Naturally, I’d keep whatever you tell me in the strictest confidence.”

  He believed her. Still, he wasn’t ready to open up about his CIs, especially Ektor Fang. The mere hint that a human had a working relationship with a Paratwa assassin would be seen by many as an act of treason.

  He had a hunch that Bel might perceive things differently, that she shared his feelings about the extreme danger to human survival that the Paratwa represented, that she would support the idea that one of his sources was an assassin. But he needed to be absolutely certain of her beliefs before he risked talking about the Du Pal.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t reveal anything about my informants.”

  “That’s not good enough. I need to know more.”

  She seemed adamant. He needed to buy some time. “Let me think about your request for a few days.”

  “And let me be frank, Nick. Programmers in the Intelligence department do not run CIs, not under any circumstances. I double-checked the matter with Pablo Dominguez and others, and they confirmed it.” She paused. “I didn’t bring up your name, at least for now. I felt that you were owed an opportunity to discuss the issue before I considered the need to take formal action.”

  The threat was clear. If Nick didn’t come clean she might report him.

  “My CIs aren’t officially authorized. I meet with them on my own time.”

  “Nevertheless, you’re an E-Tech employee. You signed an oath prohibiting you from engaging in such activities.”

  Nick realized they were on a collision course. The last thing he needed to have happen was for this meeting to end in an ugly stalemate.

  Her face hardened. “I need those names as well as the full range of intel you’ve been receiving from them.”

  She was fixated on the wrong issue. He needed to switch the conversation to the right one before it was too late.

  “The Royal Caste was behind the attack,” he said. “They gave the order.”

  Having the liege-killer murder the Energía in such a symbolic and public way had been the final proof Nick needed. The Ash Ock had arranged for Director Witherstone’s assassination. And the public manner of his execution and that of the Energía suggested that either they wanted the whole world to know or didn’t care if it did.

  “The evidence does indicate that possibility,” Bel admitted.

  “And there’s something else. Have you wondered why the Royals wanted you to become E-Tech’s new Executive Director?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I believe that the assassination of your predecessor had very little to do with the fact that he was making anti-Paratwa statements. They wanted him dead for some other reason. The Royal Caste might not have liked his views but they wouldn’t have gotten so worked up over his words alone. I mean, hey, it’s not like Director Witherstone was out on a limb with his beliefs. The latest polls show that nearly eighty-five percent of humans have strong anti-Paratwa sentiments.”

  “But he wasn’t just anyone. He was a well-regarded public figure.”

  “Nevertheless, the important thing to recognize here is that the Royals specialize in the most intricate forms of manipulation. They thrive on it. You’re part of a puzzle, one piece in a carefully designed plan.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Media Relations was the only department to suffer zero casualties. You’d like to give me the credit for that. But now I realize it wouldn’t have made any difference whether I was there or not to instruct your people. None of them would have been harmed.

  “In several other departments on the executive floor – namely, Intelligence and Operations – the staff also knew enough about the nature of Paratwa attacks to adopt the same unaggressive postures for survival. Despite that, nearly a dozen of them died. I reviewed the Security footage of how it happened. It’s very subtle but the evidence is apparent to someone who knows what they’re looking for. The Shonto Prong deliberately provoked some of those staffers into reacting. It then used their reactions as an excuse to kill them.”

  Bel frowned. “Why would it do that?”

  “To set the stage for your ascendance. In
any kind of tragedy there’s a common dynamic that occurs. After the tragedy, people seek to amplify perceived heroics and glorify the heroes. Those who died bravely – in this instance, Director Witherstone, Security personnel, staffers – are elevated to near-mythical status. But they’re not as useful as living heroes. The assassin went out of its way to make you into one.”

  “That’s absurd. I ended up hiding in a closet.”

  “I’ve been monitoring the newsphere about you since the attack. Sympathy and support for Annabel Bakana is through the roof. You have a global Q-pop score usually reserved for the sainted.”

  She grimaced. “And most of that is nonsense. I didn’t do a damned thing.”

  “Doesn’t matter. C’mon, Bel, you’re a media professional. You know better than most that perception is everything, that it beats the truth nine times out of ten. The Board of Regents praised you for keeping a cool head, for making sure that your staff was given instructions for surviving the attack before worrying about your own safety.”

  “But I didn’t do any of that, it was all you. And anyone interviewing my staff will quickly learn the truth.” Her gaze turned suspicious. “How do you know what they said to me?”

  “Educated guess.”

  It wasn’t a guess. He had a source among the regents. He’d known about Bel’s promotion before she’d even learned of it.

  “Your staff will line up to support the invented story,” he continued. “Maria Jose practically said as much to me before I walked in here. They’re loyal to you and dedicated to E-Tech. Besides that, they all moved up in the world with your promotion, so it’s to their benefit to go with the flow and not make waves. And I’ll bet a month’s pay that every single one of them has been directly contacted by a regent or their proxy and encouraged to toe the line.

  “E-Tech needed a hero, a living one. Your department was the only one spared casualties. And the assassin passed through your suite twice. It was no accident that the Shonto Prong returned to your office, that it engineered its escape from there. It was just another part of a well-conceived plan to make you the focus of attention.

  “And once that focus was established, the regents picked up the ball and ran with it. They buried the lead – that I was the one really responsible for instructing your staff. Then they used their vast resources to embed the idea of ‘Annabel Bakana, E-Tech Hero’ in the public mind.”

  Nick could tell she was considering his deductions. Still, she wasn’t yet ready to buy in.

  “I don’t believe the regents ‘buried the lead’, as you say. They simply chose a path that was politically expedient.”

  He piled on more evidence. “First thing this morning, my boss comes to my office. I’d never so much as had a casual conversation with Pablo Dominguez and the next thing I know, we’re BFFs. He gives me this heart-to-heart spiel about the importance of downplaying what I did on the day of the attack, which of course is fine by me.” He paused. “He got the message from the regents, just like your staff did.”

  Bel nodded. “All right, let’s say I believe what you’re saying, that all this manipulation is happening to put me in the director’s chair. Why? For what purpose?”

  “Certainly not for the reason everyone thinks, that the Royals want someone running E-Tech who expresses a more even-tempered philosophy toward the Paratwa. That’s just fodder, something to feed the masses.

  “The main reason for the attack was the elimination of Director Witherstone. Secondarily, they wanted you as his replacement. I just don’t yet know the reasons behind those actions.”

  In truth, he had an idea why Bel had been chosen. But he saw no upside in revealing it to her, at least not with her so new in the job.

  She stood up. Nick found himself admiring the gentle sway of her hips as she strolled over to the corner that joined the window walls.

  Don’t get distracted, he told himself. Stick to the plan.

  So far that plan had worked. He’d gotten his main points across to her: that the attack had a hidden purpose, that she was part of the real reason behind it and that the Royals were far more manipulative than E-Tech generally gave them credit for. From his perspective, there was really no good reason to remain in her office, at least none that flowed from his calculated scheming.

  Bel gazed upward, as if seeking answers from the bleak skies. Protocol dictated that she be the one to end the meeting. Not that Nick minded staying longer. Simply being in her company invoked a certain pleasure.

  She turned back to him. “For the time being, I’ll ignore the issue of you running confidential informants in violation of E-Tech policy. But I need your assurances that you’ll refrain from recruiting any new CIs, as well as engaging in any additional actions that violate your E-Tech employment contract.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Also, I’ll revisit the issue of your CIs at a later date. And when that time comes, I’ll expect straight answers.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Moving on. On the day of the attack, you said that you had sensitive information that needed to go straight to the director.” She allowed a faint smile. “Here I am.”

  Nick hesitated. He saw no reason to hit Bel with Ektor Fang’s revelations when she’d officially been director for less than twenty-four hours. Because the intel wasn’t time-sensitive or actionable – he could perceive no logical strategy to counter it – a delay would make no difference. His urge to share it with Director Witherstone had been based solely upon a desire to bounce ideas back and forth about its ramifications.

  He wanted to do that with Bel as well. But he could afford to hold off for a little while, give her a chance to get her feet wet in the new job. Still, even as he made the call he wondered about his rationale.

  If someone else was the director, someone I wasn’t attracted to, would I still have such concerns? Would I be trying to cushion that person from information overload?

  He wasn’t sure.

  Bel was staring at him with an expectant look. Nick needed to tell her something.

  He revealed what the Du Pal had said about the Royal Caste, that they called themselves the Ash Ock. He told her their tways had the ability to unlink, function as two distinct individuals. Her expression told him that the disclosure was suitably impactful.

  “Let me be the one to pass this info along to our relevant departments,” he concluded. “I’ll filter it, make sure there’s no blowback on my CIs.”

  “All right. There’s something else I’d like from you.”

  A tantalizing image flashed through his mind, of the two of them lying on this sofa, making love.

  “Shoot,” he said.

  “How familiar are you with La Gloria de la Ciencia?”

  “I know a bit about them.”

  The pro-science organization had come into being not long after E-Tech’s formation several decades ago. Their goal was the exact opposite of E-Tech’s: remove all checks and balances on scientific research, allow unfettered growth and no restrictions on the introduction of new and improved products and applications. They seemed oblivious to societal realities, believing that humanity’s problems could always be solved by ever greater applications of technology.

  “La Gloria de la Ciencia has been actively thwarting our efforts on a number of fronts,” Bel explained. “They’ve been twisting our message, accusing us of being Luddites, of being against sci-tech growth in general rather than just putting some rational limits on it.”

  “No argument. They’re mostly a bunch of whack jobs who don’t know what they’re talking about.”

  “Yes, but well-funded whack jobs. According to their published history, they were a grassroots movement that spontaneously developed in reaction to E-Tech’s rise to prominence. But La Gloria de la Ciencia had no such accidental beginnings. It was secretly created and funded by a consortium of big tech corporations concerned about losing revenue and market share.

  “Frankly, they’re becoming dangerous. La Gloria
de la Ciencia used to limit themselves to organizing protests and lobbying politicians. But they’ve upped their game. I just received intel indicating they were secretly behind that attempted coup in Norway. Fortunately it failed and a pro-E-Tech government remains in power in Oslo. Any information that might help us declaw La Gloria would be invaluable.”

  “You want me to check with my CIs, see if any of them can provide any evidence of the coup?” Nick asked.

  Bel hesitated. He could tell that, despite her prohibition against him using informants, she was tempted by what they might bring to the table. Finally, she shook her head.

  “If you already have information gleaned from a source, fine. But no new contacts with them. Limit your search to legal means.”

  Nick had little hope of learning anything useful with one of his best methods hobbled. But he forced a smile.

  “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Eleven

  The new limo Annabel Bakana rode in as E-Tech’s chief was similar to the one she’d had access to as an associate director. But there was one notable difference.

  It came with bodyguards.

  Two beefy men shared the front seat. Even more impressive was that one of them was actually driving the car through Philly-sec’s dense midday traffic.

  Bel had been seven or eight years old the last time she’d been in a vehicle that wasn’t self-directing. Her two grandfathers had taken her for a high speed ride in an antique, gasoline-powered Ford pickup. She remembered being terrified sitting on Grandpa Austin’s lap as he wrenched the steering wheel and stomped the pedals, manhandling the big loud machine along a winding country road while Grandpa Rudolph bellowed from the passenger seat for them to go faster.

  Such childhood terrors had been overcome long ago, replaced by the more abiding fears of adulthood. Besides, she’d been assured by E-Tech Security that the driver was highly skilled. Nick’s skepticism of Security notwithstanding, he and his companion came across as professionally competent.