Infinity Born

by Douglas E. Richards

  Riley shook her head in wonder. “I’m still not sure how I feel about you,” she said, “but no one can say that you don’t think big. You continue to come up with ridiculous, impossible visions, and then find a way to turn them into reality.”

  Jordan simply nodded in acknowledgment, but it was clear how much these words meant to him.

  Carr thought back to when he had first heard Jordan’s voice in his headphones, inside a helicopter that had carried them away from the church. As he began to lose consciousness seconds later, he could never have imagined that things would play out as they had.

  Jordan had begun the day as a crazed mass murderer and a man dedicated to stopping human progress. And now, he had done a credible job of convincing a hostile audience that he might just be mankind’s greatest visionary, and ultimately, its savior.

  “As I said at the start,” continued Jordan. “I’d love for all of you to join me. Riley, my hope is for you to meet some of my experimental volunteers and their doppelgängers. Once you see that you can’t tell the difference between them, I think you’ll come to view this as the miracle it is. When that happens, I’m ready to bring your mother and brothers back.”

  Riley wore an unreadable expression and didn’t reply.

  “And I can’t tell you how much I could use a mind as powerful as yours,” Jordan said to his daughter. “And yours, too, of course,” he added hastily, nodding at David Bram.

  Bram made a face. “Don’t worry. I’ve met your daughter. I know exactly where I rank in the scheme of things.”

  The hint of a smile crossed Jordan’s face. “And Lieutenant Carr, you’d be the perfect man to lead my security team. The backgrounds and abilities of the men I’ve recruited are truly extraordinary, but none can match yours. I can’t tell you how much I’d rather have you working for me than against me. And as part of the inner circle, you would bring your own fresh perspective. You’d have a hand in guiding our efforts.”

  “I’d certainly have to consider it,” said Carr, “but I’d want to know—”

  “Please,” said Jordan, interrupting, “don’t answer now. I have some things I need to attend to. And I’ve given you enough food for thought to last a lifetime. I’d like the three of you to take your time to really think this through. Digest everything I’ve said.”

  “How long will you be gone?” asked Riley.

  “Actually, I need to stay. But I have a helicopter pilot waiting outside to fly you to a private mansion, a few hundred miles from here. It’s beautiful. Has a fully stocked liquor cabinet, a heated pool and spa, the works. So spend a day and night there. Relax. Ponder what I’ve told you, and my offer to join our efforts. Talk it through. I promise that any conversations you have will be fully private. When you’re ready tomorrow, I’ll have you flown back here and we can reconvene.” He paused. “Is that acceptable?”

  His three guests exchanged glances. “Yes,” said Riley for the small group.

  “Great,” said Jordan.

  “I assume I won’t be able to just waltz out of there if the spirit moves me,” said Carr.

  “No,” said Jordan. “Sorry about that. But I can’t leave you on your own recognizance just yet. Whether you join me or not, I’d prefer you not provide a full debriefing to Dwyer. You can appreciate how much care I’ve taken to stay off the grid. Unfortunately, I can’t give Riley or David their freedom yet, either, for the same reason. The exact same automated security that watches over this facility watches over that one. And there are two guards, also like here.”

  “Is that all?” said Carr wryly.

  “Not quite,” said Jordan with a smile. “All Wi-Fi and other signals will be suppressed inside, just in case you’re somehow able to acquire a cell phone.”

  “That about covers it,” said Carr.

  “One last thing,” added Jordan. “When the three of you return, regardless of your decision, I’d like to get scans and backup copies of your minds. You know, just in case . . .”

  “So when I die you don’t have to decapitate me?” said Riley.

  Jordan winced. “Periodic backups make a lot of sense,” he said, pretending to ignore his daughter’s comment.

  “Where is this done?” asked Carr.

  “Basically right under our feet. The building we’re in now is my private sanctuary when I visit here, and I’m the only one with access. But there’s a smaller, hexagonal building you’ll pass on the way to the helicopter. Inside is my private elevator, which leads to an underground facility that is quite extensive. This is where we housed the twelve hundred subjects, and where we keep banks of bioprinters, quantum brains, and so on.”

  This location was unexpected, but the fact that Jordan’s vast experimental compound was all underground was not. In fact, Carr realized, he should have predicted it. Even before Isaac Jordan arrived on the scene, Elon Musk had made great strides in dramatically improving tunneling technology, with the goal of relieving traffic and creating inexpensive underground cities. When Jordan began to mine asteroids, he improved this technology even further.

  “Now that we’ve finished testing all but about ninety of the twelve hundred subjects,” continued Jordan, “the facility is a bit of a ghost town. These ninety still live here, along with about forty researchers from my study team. Only a few of my team are now needed to conduct testing. The others work on analyzing and writing up the data.”

  “I assume this is also where you store the sleeping E-brains you removed?” said Riley.

  “Yes. The data that comprises their consciousness is also saved in this facility, so we can create enough additional copies of the chosen thirty-five to have a number of them on every mission.”

  “Sounds like a remarkable facility,” said Carr.

  “I think so,” said Jordan. “I hope you’ll let me give you a tour. I’ve worked hard to make it as aesthetically appealing as it is scientifically appealing.”

  “And if we decline your offer?” said the lieutenant.

  “As I’ve said, I’ll just erase your memories of the past few days, and you can go back to your lives.”

  Jordan removed a phone from his pocket and his hands danced over the screen. “I just texted a new associate of mine to come here to escort you to the helicopter. A woman named Trish Casner.”

  “I assume you have ample security to collect us if we choose to ditch her,” said Carr.

  “I’m afraid so,” said Jordan. “But why would you ever want to do that?” he added with a smile. “Anyway, Trish will be joining you at the mansion, but will give you your privacy. If you need anything at all while you’re there, just ask her, and she’ll make sure you have it. And she’ll be happy to answer any questions you have for her.”

  “Who is she?” asked Carr.

  “She was an experimental subject whose year term ended just recently. I was impressed with her and asked her to join my team—which she accepted.”

  “Does she know . . . everything?” asked Riley.

  “She does. She knows I loaded nanites in her skull without her knowledge. And that we uploaded her consciousness into a duplicate. She also knows that another close colleague of mine who was assigned to her case, a man named John Brennan, administered a lethal injection to her duplicate.”

  “And she wasn’t furious?” asked Riley. “At minimum, I’d expect her to feel violated that you put nanites in her body without permission.”

  “She was furious. And she did feel violated,” acknowledged Jordan. “But when I laid out for her what I just did for you, and more, she was able to forgive me. She came to appreciate the value of what I’ve been trying to accomplish.”

  Less than a minute later the woman in question joined them and introduced herself, and they prepared to leave.

  Carr locked his gaze on Isaac Jordan. “I’d like to have five or ten minutes with you in private,” he said. “Why don’t you let Trish escort Riley and David to the helo, and we can talk. When we’re done, Trish can come back and escort me sepa
rately.”

  “What is this about?”

  Carr motioned Jordan forward and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

  When he was done, Jordan’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps a private conversation would be worthwhile, at that,” he said.

  Isaac Jordan turned to appraise his daughter one final time before she left, barely able to contain powerful emotions that threatened to bring tears once again. “I need you to know that I’ve never stopped caring about you,” he told her. “No matter what happens from here on out, no matter what you decide, I love you more than you could possibly know. And I couldn’t be prouder of the fine young woman you’ve become, despite what you had to endure because of me.”

  Riley simply nodded her acknowledgment of this and gestured for Trish Casner to lead the way to their aircraft.

  Interesting, thought Cameron Carr. When Jordan had told his daughter how much he had missed her at the start of the meeting, she had basically responded by telling him she had danced on his grave.

  So while her response to this last would seem decidedly chilly to an uninformed bystander, Carr knew just how much progress toward reconciliation Isaac Jordan had truly made.

  PART 6

  Deception

  41

  Volkov waited calmly in a large Ford Premaro, an SUV that had been winning off-road competitions since its introduction in 2026. The windows were tinted to the maximum degree allowed by Colorado law, which was on the liberal side in this respect, a surprise to no one aware of the state’s early legalization of marijuana many years earlier.

  The major was alone in the vehicle, which was parked behind an abandoned warehouse and a rusty overhang that would protect him from any prying eyes in the sky. Not that he didn’t have every confidence he had remained off the grid since losing his tail on his way to Utah.

  The Premaro was all electric, so along with being whisper quiet, it offered a spacious storage compartment under the hood where a gasoline engine would otherwise have been. After Tesla had dubbed this storage space a frunk years earlier—short for front trunk—this name had come into widespread use. Volkov had a gray rucksack beside him in the vehicle and had earlier locked away two duffels in the frunk, both considerably larger than his ruck and packed with tech and other military gear that would be essential for their upcoming mission.

  Before he arrived at the safe house in Utah, the major had activated two additional men already in the States, making eight total that he and Greshnev could now wield as needed. He would have liked to have even greater numbers, but ten would have to do, and Anton Orlov, the head of the GRU, had already read him the riot act.

  As pleased as Orlov was by Volkov’s discovery that Isaac Jordan was alive and behind the ASI sabotage, eight men had been compromised at the church, and Volkov was now risking the covers of eight more, potentially decimating Russia’s human intelligence in the Western half of the US.

  Volkov couldn’t have cared any less. Orlov wasn’t fully grasping the game-changing implications of what he was about to accomplish. The major was about to score his greatest success, bag the biggest game he had ever hunted in his storied career, assuring a glorious future for his homeland.

  Volkov’s triumph would single-handedly bring Russia back to the dominance and world position it deserved. Its power would soon soar above all other nations, including the insufferable, self-satisfied United States, and it would enjoy a global dominance undreamed of even when the USSR had been at its zenith. All other nations would become little more than handmaidens, obeying Russia’s every whim for fear of suffering its wrath.

  Volkov was jarred from this powerful vision by the voice of one of the agents he had recently activated, Pavel Safin. “We’re pulling around now, Major,” he heard through the comm in his ear.

  “Roger that,” said Volkov.

  Two minutes later a small sedan pulled alongside the SUV and parked. Safin and another new arrival, Yakov Urinson, exited the vehicle and escorted their guest, Dr. John B. Brennan, over to the SUV. Urinson immediately took the driver’s seat, while Safin stuffed all six foot three of the towering scientist into the second row, sandwiching Brennan between himself and Volkov.

  “Welcome, Dr. Brennan,” said Volkov, extending a hand to the man now sitting beside him.

  “What the hell was that all about?” thundered Brennan, making no move to shake Volkov’s hand. Even flushed with rage, his face was shaped in such a way that it couldn’t help but look friendly. “I’ve had proctology exams that were less intrusive!”

  “I told you I wasn’t a trusting man,” said Volkov calmly. “You didn’t think I would just meet you and make myself vulnerable to an ambush?”

  “You chose the meeting time and place!” said Brennan, “to make sure I couldn’t surprise you.”

  “I haven’t survived in a deadly business by underestimating potential threats,” said Volkov. “Or potential adversaries.”

  Volkov had little doubt that Brennan would be clean, but Safin and Urinson had been very thorough in confirming this was the case, anyway, using sensors and more primitive means. Not that Jordan couldn’t have come up with undetectable innovations, but Volkov had reasons of his own for being confident that Brennan wasn’t planning an ambush. The strip-search and full body cavity exam he had ordered his men to put Brennan through was more for show than anything else, although not entirely. Volkov was too careful to discount the possibility that he had misjudged the situation, no matter how remote the chances.

  After Brennan’s ire over his mistreatment subsided, he provided coordinates for the location of Jordan’s retreat, nestled against a heavily wooded mountain twenty miles distant, and they set off immediately. When Urinson jerked the SUV onto a main road seconds later, their new ally winced in pain.

  “Surely my men weren’t that rough,” said Volkov.

  “I have a dodgy back that’s acting up,” said Brennan miserably. “And, yes, your men were that rough. The least they could have done was bought me dinner first.”

  Volkov laughed. “When Jordan is dead, then we’ll buy you dinner.”

  “Your men confiscated my tablet computer,” said the scientist. “I’m going to need that to disarm security.”

  “I assume you can use any computer for this, correct?”

  Brennan thought about this for a moment. “I suppose so,” he admitted.

  “Good. Then I’ll make sure you have one when you need it.”

  “By the way,” said Brennan, “where is Sergei Greshnev? Isn’t he your second-in-command?”

  “Your knowledge is impressive, Dr. Brennan,” said the major. “But Sergei won’t be joining us on this mission. He has errands of his own to attend to. But I’m sure he’ll be gratified to know that he was missed.”

  “So only three of you?” said the scientist, unimpressed.

  Volkov shot him an icy glare. “If you’re on the level, if you really do want Jordan dead and can negate his security, three will be plenty. If not, I suspect twenty men wouldn’t be enough.”

  They drove the rest of the way in silence, coming to the base of a mountain and working their way deeper into untamed territory and a higher altitude. Brennan directed them to an off-road path through trees and brush that Jordan’s people had created, one that was well hidden so that few would stumble upon it by accident.

  Brennan called a stop. “The guards carpool to this site, and park in a clearing over there,” he said, directing their attention a hundred yards to the north. “They use the same SUV as the one we’re in,” he added, which made sense, since he had advised them that this vehicle performed particularly well over the terrain they would encounter.

  Volkov removed a small drone from his rucksack, one that was so perfectly modeled after an American tree sparrow that the greatest risk to its continued operation was that an actual sparrow might try to mate with it. It possessed a sophisticated AI for a brain, and was largely autonomous once in flight, responding to Volkov’s voice commands.

  H
e launched it northward, and within minutes it was above the guards’ SUV. The major directed the small feathered drone to land on a branch near the top of a tall tree nearby, where it continued to send footage of the SUV and its immediate surroundings back to Volkov’s phone.

  The major nodded at Pavel Safin, who exited their vehicle without a word and removed a massive nylon duffel bag from the frunk, military grade, covered by a green-and-brown forest camouflage pattern. He took a moment to survey the route north and began to work his way in this direction, rapidly but carefully.

  “Where’s he going?” said Brennan. “Won’t your drone be able to tell when the guards pull out?”

  “It will,” replied the major. “But Pavel will follow them on foot for as long as he can. Once he’s lost them, he’ll set up a camera keyed to their faces and vehicle. This way, we can make sure they don’t double back. If they do, the camera will send an alert to my comm.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that you still don’t trust me?”

  “Because I don’t,” said Volkov simply.

  The Russian leader ordered Urinson to drive off the cleared path, a much sterner test of the Ford’s off-road capabilities. They plowed over rough terrain, giving the guards’ vehicle a wide berth, while their own vehicle collected an assortment of nicks and scratches from tree branches and brush that stubbornly refused to flee to safety.

  A few minutes later Brennan called a stop once again. He contacted the commander of the two-man team, supplied them with the proper codes, and gave them the news of their immediate reassignment.

  Volkov kept his eyes glued to his phone, waiting for the guards to abandon their post and work their way to the SUV. Six minutes later he nodded at Brennan in satisfaction. “They’re following your orders.”

  “Of course they are,” said the scientist.

  “They’re driving off now,” added Volkov, shutting off his phone and zipping it into a side pocket of his rucksack. “We’ll continue to wait here for Pavel, but it shouldn’t be more than another ten minutes.”