Infinity Born

by Douglas E. Richards

  “I take it you plan to go out there,” said Riley.

  “Yes. They’ll find us and get to us eventually, even in this room. The only chance we have is to go on offense.”

  “So what’s your plan?” asked Bram. “Kill them all?”

  “Exactly,” said Carr with a weary smile. “Who knew you were this good of a strategist? Maybe you should be in my line of work.”

  “I appreciate that you’re trying to keep the mood light,” said Riley, “but there are seven soldiers out there with submachine guns. You really think you can take them all out bare-handed?”

  “Absolutely!” said Carr with mock bravado. “Just so long as they don’t have any compact stunners, I’ll be fine.” He smiled. “I have a great track record against anyone weighing over a hundred and ten pounds. Really.”

  PART 7

  Assault

  51

  Marat Volkov listened to his comm and turned to face his prisoner. “Turns out my guess was right,” he boasted, quite pleased with himself. “Whatever Brennan did here to take down security was able to do the same at your mansion. My men are in. All seven of them,” he added.

  Jordan didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

  Volkov paused to listen to another voice in his ear. He frowned, said a few sentences in Russian, and returned his attention to Jordan. “It’s time for us to begin a heart-to-heart conversation.”

  “Aren’t you being premature?” said Jordan. “You don’t have my daughter yet.”

  “I will in a matter of minutes. I was waiting for the report I just received to begin, from the man I sent to secure your underground facility.”

  “Hold on,” said Jordan. “You only sent one man?”

  “Don’t tell me the great Isaac Jordan is actually impressed,” said Volkov in amusement. “I’m a little understaffed at the moment. But then again, I am behind enemy lines. Russia has developed some technologies that are unmatched as force multipliers when it comes to operations like capturing your facility. Technologies you clearly aren’t aware of. Looks like you’ve been too narrowly focused on stopping ASI technologies to bother with lesser advances,” he added in contempt.

  “A mistake I won’t make again,” said Jordan.

  Volkov laughed. “A mistake you won’t get the chance to make again.”

  “Is there a point to this?”

  “All of your people down below are unconscious. We hit them with a potent knock-out agent.”

  Jordan’s expression was mixed. He was alarmed by this news, but also relieved that his people were still alive.

  Urinson continued to remain silent throughout, and continued to hold a gun on the bound billionaire. The Russian could have been a statue for all anyone could tell. If there were pigeons in the room, they’d be landing on Urinson’s head.

  “My comrade has completed a cursory inspection of the people he knocked out in your facility,” continued Volkov. “I just got his report now. I have to admit, I expected to find the original Isaac Jordan among them. But this was not to be.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Jordan. “There’s only one of me.”

  Volkov sneered at him in contempt. “Don’t insult me, Mr. Jordan. You know I was listening while you described your success with mind transference. Brennan insisted that I kill you. Then, once he was down, you practically begged me to do the same. Did you think I wouldn’t guess your plan? You’re a copy, set up on a silver platter for me to kill, so I’ll go away and the original Isaac Jordan will be free to operate.”

  Jordan didn’t make any attempt to deny it.

  “As I was saying,” continued the major, “we didn’t find the other you down below. This is a disappointment. I really thought he would be there, ready to pop up to take your place the moment you left, like a jack-in-the-box. I’m guessing you transmitted a video of your session with your daughter to him, so he could slip back into her life seamlessly. We checked, but you’d stopped transmitting to your other self by the time we arrived. Too bad, we might have been able to track the transmission.”

  Volkov shrugged. “But no matter. You’re going to deliver him to us. If you don’t, I’m going to make you watch me do terrible things to your daughter.” He paused. “Well, to his daughter.” Then, seeing the pain in Jordan’s eyes, he added, “I guess both of you see her as your daughter equally, don’t you?”

  The Russian shook his head in wonder. “Your technology really is extraordinary,” he allowed. “When I listened to you talk about the transfer, even hearing you insist that a duplicate and original are indistinguishable, I still couldn’t help but think of the copy as lurching about like a Frankenstein. But after I figured out you were a duplicate, I was astonished by your humanity. It came through, loud and clear, even in an audio feed. And now that I see you in person, I have to say, you’re as human as any man I’ve ever met.”

  “That’s funny,” said Jordan. “You’re as inhuman as any man I’ve ever met.”

  Volkov seemed to take this almost as a compliment. “Keep that in mind as you make your choices,” he said. “Fail to cooperate and you’ll think the me you’ve seen so far is a saint.”

  The Russian paused. “Speaking of cooperation,” he continued, “I had originally planned to press you into service inside Mother Russia, but I think I’ve changed my mind. Your underground facility is too valuable, and too perfect, to ignore. It is in the middle of America, but it’s also beautifully hidden and off the grid. So I’ll get additional agents from the homeland to man the facility, and you and the other Jordan will both work for us here. In fact, it’s tempting to have Jordan make more copies of himself. We could use his genius repeated a thousand times.”

  Volkov thought about this further and shook his head. “Actually, maybe not. Perhaps two is the right number. Any more than that and it might get unwieldy for us to maintain our leverage. One of you might find a way to turn the tables. If we limit you to two copies, we double the contributions your genius makes possible, but still have a number that is manageable.”

  “I look forward to demonstrating otherwise.”

  Volkov laughed. “That’s the spirit. But do you know what just occurred to me?” he added enthusiastically. “I really have to get used to thinking about a world in which mind transference is possible. I don’t need as many reinforcements from Russia as I thought. I could have you make twenty copies of me.”

  “Trust me,” said Jordan in disdain, “you won’t like yourself. But go for it. I’d enjoy watching you and your emulations at each other’s throats—maybe even literally.”

  The major tilted his head in thought. “Granted that too many alpha males might spoil the broth,” he said, “but this would never happen when they’re all me. We’ll all think exactly the same way. Agree on every strategy.”

  “At first. But as your experiences diverge, so will your thinking. And suppose there’s one task you want to do, and one you don’t. Now imagine there are two of you. Both will, indeed, think the same way about the situation. Both will think, ‘I’ll assign myself to the favored task, and my doppelgänger to the other.’ The decision might be the same, but the I in question will be very different. Conflicts will arise—and often.”

  “Interesting,” said Volkov after a few seconds of further thought. “There’s even more to ponder about these capabilities than I realized. But let me move on. Regardless of how we choose to keep and exert our control of the facility, as long as you and your original cooperate, you’ll be treated like royalty. So will your daughter, although not here. Can’t risk that you’ll find a way to free her. We’ll even let her keep David Bram. As a pet, I guess. And I sense that you like him and approve of him being with your daughter.”

  The Russian shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t be as generous when it comes to Cameron Carr. He has to die. He’s too dangerous, as I’m sure you can appreciate. I sense that you like him, too, but trust me, you’ll get over his passing.”

  “Are you fin
ished?” said Jordan.

  “Not even close,” said the major. “I haven’t even gotten to your job description. First, I can tell you what you won’t be working on: ASI. I heard you describe the sacrifices you’ve made, and are willing to make, to prevent this from coming into being again. So we’ll stick with things more in your comfort zone. Ones that will make it easy for you to cooperate. In fact, we would want you to continue your watchdog efforts, along with all of your work. Just under new management, which we’re happy to provide.

  “And we’ll need full access to Pock,” continued Volkov. “From what you’ve said, he’ll prove even more valuable than two Jordans. And you’ll have to provide the specs on your whole brain emulation and bioprinting technologies so we can ah . . . duplicate your duplication work. And your virtual reality system, also.”

  “Why the VR? To play video games?”

  “No, to test and train our recruits in field conditions. But most importantly, we can torture adversaries in virtual reality and then erase their memories. We can get the information we want without them knowing we have it, and without leaving a single mark on their bodies.”

  “That tells me everything I need to know about you,” said Jordan in disgust. “You look at a miracle technology and all you see is a better way to torture people.”

  “You’re hardly one to judge,” snapped the Russian. “Isn’t this what you’ve been doing with it? Torturing your twelve hundred volunteers? From the sound of it, you’ve put them through nightmare scenarios not even I could have dreamed up. You think you’re better than me because you drape your torture in the name of science?”

  Jordan didn’t reply, but from the mixture of anger and regret on his face, it was clear Volkov had hit a nerve.

  “I do need to ask for one deviation from what you’ve been doing,” continued the Russian. “I appreciate that your experiments have been very well controlled. I can’t fault your scientific integrity. But there will be powerful people in my country who will be intrigued by the possibility of inhabiting a younger body. At least once they’ve interacted with your copies and come to appreciate that you really can accomplish a perfect transference of consciousness. They’ll insist on being reincarnated into twenty-year-old versions of themselves once they’ve died. Or, even more likely, bodies that are indestructible.”

  “You’re messing with things you don’t understand,” said Jordan.

  “What don’t I understand?”

  “Everything. You can’t have an indestructible body without changing your behavior and personality in dramatic ways. I’ll give you one of many examples. If I transferred you to a non-biological body, much of your sexual appetites would remain, but you’d have no way to satisfy them. And if you tried to edit out the sex drive, something evolution has so deeply embedded in the construction of the brain, you’d be playing a game whose outcome can’t be predicted.”

  “That may be true,” said Volkov, “but you know there’s more to it than that. I listened to your every word. The outcomes of significant changes might be unpredictable, but with your VR, they are testable. You can see what effect this type of change will have, and decide how to proceed. It will take some time and effort, but I have no doubt you’ll find a way.” The Russian raised his eyebrows. “Maybe we’ll need a third Isaac Jordan, after all.”

  “You paint an interesting fantasy,” said Jordan. “But I’m noticing you haven’t heard any voices in your ear telling you that your men have captured my daughter. And you know I was born with the sole purpose of dying. So you have no leverage. Why don’t you do us both a favor and keep your wet dreams to yourself until you do.”

  The corners of the Russian’s mouth turned up into just the hint of a smile. “Don’t worry, my men will have your daughter very soon. They’re just being cautious. Taking their time, making sure they don’t make any mistakes. But even if the impossible happens, and she’s somehow able to elude us, trust me, we still have a solid Plan B. One that might make you wish we had captured her, after all.”

  52

  Lieutenant Cameron Carr moved to the kitchen at a full sprint as his mind worked overtime. He had fought in combat zones and worked as a spy behind enemy lines. He was well trained in hand-to-hand and excelled at improvisation.

  He knew of dozens of household items that could be turned into weapons, from paper weights to microwave ovens to fireplace pokers to fire extinguishers. He could use bleach and a few other household items to make a bomb that would explode into a cloud of chlorine gas, and he could turn a high powered squirt gun into a flame thrower.

  The trick was to be strategic and decisive, winnowing down this choice of homemade weapons into a few that were right for the given situation. Carr was expert in several martial arts, but he’d have no chance without weapons and creativity. The great martial artist Bruce Lee had once commented, “If someone comes at you with a sword, run if you can. Kung Fu doesn’t always work.”

  In Carr’s book, these were words to live by, especially if the weapon coming at you was not a sword but a submachine gun.

  Riley had implied he would need to take out these seven armed men with his bare hands. This wasn’t true. He needed to take out one man with his bare hands, or with a makeshift weapon that could act at a distance. If the one man was isolated and Carr did it right, he could borrow this soldier’s assault rifle to take out the other six.

  And Carr might not need to take them all out by himself. At the moment, at least, Roberto Estrada was still in the game.

  Carr had hoped the Russians would come straight for the main residence, allowing him to deal with them before they went gunning for Estrada—but they had done just the opposite. Even if the pilot knew they were coming, his chances of survival were slim. On the other hand, if he was surprised, he had no chance at all.

  Estrada had told Carr during the flight that Jordan expected his people to perform multiple duties. Those who signed on with Jordan believed in a great cause, protecting humanity from ASI and seeding the galaxy, and saw their work as a mission rather than a job. Just like Trish Casner, Estrada had been assigned numerous responsibilities and would be neck-deep in work in the guest house, making surprise even easier for the Russians.

  If Carr didn’t manage to warn Estrada, the pilot would be dead in minutes. He might end up that way, anyway, but Carr had to do whatever he could to prevent this, not just for humanitarian reasons but because he could use a competent ally in this lopsided battle. If he was able to warn him, Estrada’s experience and the Russians’ inability to pinpoint his location within the guest house might make him an elusive target.

  But wanting to warn Estrada and being able to warn him were two different things now that Jordan had thrown the estate back into the Dark Ages. Carr would give his life’s savings for a working cell phone.

  As far as he could see, there was only one way he could warn him in time, a way that he dreaded. Even thinking about it set his teeth on edge. This was really going to suck.

  He stopped running as he neared Riley’s assigned bedroom in the mansion. Since it was directly in the path to his destination, a detour here would only represent the briefest of delays. He rushed inside and left less than a minute later with a full can of hairspray, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a polyester women’s bathing suit, all of which he shoved inside a trendy leather overnight bag he had found inside the closet.

  He completed his rapid journey to the kitchen and went straight for a large plastic garbage bin, dumping its contents onto the floor. He picked out bits of garbage—a crumpled brown paper bag, plastic, and a few other items he thought would create smoke—and returned them to the tall, rectangular container.

  He guessed there was what he called a fire wand somewhere in the kitchen, a plastic butane lighter with an elongated barrel homeowners used to light candles and such, but didn’t want to waste any time searching if he was wrong. Instead, he grabbed a roll of paper towels from the counter by the sink, turned on the stove, and held the rol
l against the burner until it caught fire. He nursed the flames until they were hungrily licking up the sides of the roll and then threw this into the bin.

  The fire quickly spread, and smoke began to belch into the air, a development he noted with satisfaction. Even so, he needed to hurry things along. He yanked open several drawers until he found a pair of kitchen mitts, which he hastily put on his hands. Finally, he carried the burning container to a nearby hockey-puck-shaped smoke detector on the ceiling and held it up over his head.

  “Shit!” he cursed as the burning trash did its job almost instantly, tripping a shrieking, impossibly shrill alarm that could wake the dead and make the living wish they were.

  Since smoke alarms were wired in parallel, when one tripped they all did, setting the entire mansion screeching at a decibel level that was indescribably deafening, hammering at his brain and his every last nerve as he had known it would.

  The blaring alarms were relentless, but even as they threatened to make Carr’s head explode, he knew they had served their purpose, being easily heard in the guest house and probably even in Australia, putting a seasoned soldier like Estrada on instant alert.

  Carr imagined his civilian companions suffering inside the panic room, covering their ears and cursing his name. He knew they would see his activities on one of the monitors and were bright enough to understand his intent.

  The alarm would awaken the Russians, as well, but he had no doubt they knew he was active the moment their sensors had gone dead. This just gave them one more thing to think about. And since the alarms would continue their unholy brain-melting assault, when the Russians did come into the mansion after Riley they would be unable to hear themselves think, making concentration and coordination far more difficult.

  The eardrum-bursting blare wasn’t helping Carr’s concentration, either, but it was a small price to pay for what he had gained.