“Herein lies the beauty,” the cartoon rabbit will say, “because there are two sides of the coin. It means great flexibility, but also a long-distance mess. In short, less trouble. But at a very long distance, like the one requested by the customer, they’re complicated buggers. Because of the different weight, the different length, you know?”
“More or less. Because of the wind and the environmental conditions?”
“Got it.” The rabbit will simulate a gun with his hand. “Wind, atmospheric pressure, humidity, etc., are the parameters that you need to calculate. I gave you a list. These influence the choice of caliber. I mean, do you prefer a light but very fast pulse or a heavier but slower one? Do you prefer a short or long pulse? I’ve prepared you a table of parameters. Read here in the OAL section, which stands for overall length, acronym for total length of ammunition.”
“Will you link it up for me?”
“Of course, relax. At that point, just insert the parameters into the ballistic computer, which the manufacturer must necessarily plan to insert into the object. I don’t know where, but that’s his problem.”
“And what happens at that point?”
“That’s it,” will answer the rabbit in the elegant green suit. “At that point, those who use the object only have to do a period of testing the object-cartridge combination at different distances and in different environmental conditions. You just have to set up the software for the setting to be created. This will obviously depend on how the pulse reacts to the various distances, temperatures, climatic conditions, if it rains, if there is sun. Ah, and don’t forget the altitude.”
“In a nutshell, software that notices the drop and deviation of the shot according to the different conditions of use.”
“That’s right. Then it would be a simple ballistics table, with corrections due to environmental conditions, based on a sufficient testing period of the product.”
“And you have all the parameters I need?”
“Don’t be offended, but until this morning I didn’t even know your name,” he will say, walking along the sidewalk. “I found you doing a search. I found out you wrote a lot about EFIA.”
“Well, yes. But don’t you work inside?”
“Not exactly. I’m an employee of a mixed public-private company. The public part is under the Department. But indirectly, we’re dependent on the government, even if it’s not officially known. Like I told you, I work for Medoc. I’m a researcher. Access analyzer, to be precise.”
“What the hell is an access analyzer?”
“A synonym for access examiner. A few years ago, the Company developed a program in connection with many universities. In recent decades, the level of information, data, entered into holographic space, has increased frighteningly. Practically doubled in just the last five years. Do you understand what that means?”
“Not exactly.”
“It means that all those who enter information are monitored. Also for reasons of space management and programming.”
“How?”
“Well, you know the commission that evaluates the articles that you publish on behalf of your independent companions?”
“The Government Communications Control Body.”
“That. Then your company sells them to the different publishers, and someone publishes them, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, now think of something like that. It’s just not an official program.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is not about articles officially filed by a journalist through a publisher, but about information, publications, essays, anything. Anyone who publishes information on the world’s holographic space is recorded, reviewed and the text checked.”
“But who does all this? And why?”
“I’m practically finished. I’ll send you the parametric tables to prepare the software to be inserted in a holographic sheet with all the necessary data: telemetric distance, wind detection at the start, zenith, target, correction of the site angle, relative humidity, weight and speed of the pulse.”
“And all parameters, based on the software, inserted into the holographic sheet, regulate the ballistic computer in the object.”
“Exactly. And they determine the shot in advance, telling the user how to regulate elevation and drift, practically in real time.”
“In essence,” the bearded young man will reflect, “we would have invented the bullet path.”
“And solved the problems,” the rabbit will note, “if the manufacturer of the object has planned to insert the software into the integrated ballistic computer. In theory, that shot could also be made. Everything will depend on the test phase.”
The bearded man will carefully observe all the figures moving in the tavern, without noticing any figure worthy of suspicion.
The intrusion analyzer is reporting abnormal values to me.
“Are you sure you’re not being followed?”
“Don’t worry.”
“However, it’s better to end here. So, when can you send me the material?”
“Two days. Same time,” the rabbit will say. “And for payment?”
“A transaction has taken place. I want to check it out first. The ten percent advance I gave you should be enough. How long do you think the connection will last?”
“Encrypting such a program in holographic space isn’t simple. I’ll have to avoid the usual channels and stay on the safe side. If I don’t find any snags, no more than ten minutes.”
The bearded man, sitting at his station, will still see, in the corner of the holographic helmet, a red signal projected onto his retina. He will trust his program, having created it himself. Flashes. “We’d better end here. In two days. Be careful.” The bearded man will turn off the communication.
“The various governments, of course. Regarding the why, the reasons partly arise from the need to control the amount of information. The system shouldn’t explode, so it doesn’t disrupt the communication system, so you need a filter, like I told you before. But above all, and this is less well-known, because some governments decide to withhold information deemed dangerous to social stability.”
“It doesn’t seem very democratic.”
“But it happens. I don’t know about here, at least, I don’t know at the Euro-American Federation level, but it happens, and quite frequently, in other economic systems. In Africa, mainly, in many areas of South East Asia, and in some countries of the Middle East. A bit patchy, but it’s a little-known but significant phenomenon.”
From the riverbank, the woman will watch a couple of canoes on the cold dark waters paddled by two youngsters, wrapped in windbreakers, chatting cheerfully.
“And what does that have to do with you?”
“We access the holographic system. We look, not at what’s published, but what’s not published.”
“Maybe the question will sound stupid, but... why?”
The man will put his hands in his pockets, climbing the stairs along the riverbank, heading for the road. “It’s not a stupid question. To monitor. To find out what others are doing. If someone doesn’t want something to be known, they’ll have reasons. And our government wants to know.”
The petite woman will gasp slightly, following the man.
“A quiet job,” he will note, observing the sun peeping through the skyscrapers, projecting its rays onto the waters of the river. “Until yesterday.”
“And yesterday, what happened?”
The man will point out the window of a cafe on the opposite sidewalk. “Let’s get something there. I’ll tell you everything.”
On the second-to-top floor of the huge white building, the thin woman will be speaking excitedly. The black-haired man and the elegant man will endure her outburst.
After signing off, the bearded man will take off his helmet, and the mass of raven hair will fall onto his shoulders. The girl’s cotton T-shirt will be damp with sweat, her breasts bouncing with her accelerated bre
athing. Janus will wait a few seconds to regain control. Then she will take off her gloves, store all the equipment neatly in the bag, snap the zipper closed, check with a glance that she hasn’t forgotten anything on the floor, close the folding chair, and approach the door. Inhaling deeply, and silently snapping the lock, she will open the door, look into the hallway of the isolated building, and come out, closing the door without locking it. She won’t even have to turn off light. All her meetings take place in the dark.
The man in a white coat will run to meet Cervetti in the atrium of the grand salon of the square building at the EUR, at the NOCS Rome headquarters. Outside the glass door, about ten steps below the staircase, the flying service car will still have its blue flashing lights on, illuminating the old building’s façade and courtyard in the dark night.
“I’m sorry to have called you at this hour, Commissioner,” Santilli will say, shaking hands with the new arrival.
“Are you joking? Just tell me what’s going on.”
The two will walk quickly down the stairs, heading to the subway.
“It ended a few minutes ago, Commissioner. I’m sorry you couldn’t hear it live.”
“The same men?”
“The same. Same methodology, virtual meeting place. It’s confirmed. Everything suggests it’s a firearm. Probably a sniper rifle.”
Santilli will precede the Commissioner along the stairs.
“Why this deduction?” the tall man will ask, easily following him at an accelerated pace, “Did they use that word?”
“No, but they’re talking about ballistic computers.”
“And couldn’t it be a missile launcher, for example? They might be thinking of an attack on the flying car or a long-distance jet. His Holiness travels often.”
“It doesn’t seem to have been exactly what the manuals call a brilliant action, Daft. Now we have one of our men on the run, and we don’t know why or what his intentions are. Great result!”
“We’re checking airports, trains, subways, all accesses. We’ve blocked his accounts; he has no financial resources and no transportation. I don’t think it will be easy for him to leave town.”
The elegant man will move his gray hair from his forehead and squint his piglike eyes. “If his intentions are to leave,” he will comment, “what if he was part of an organized network? What if they have other attacks in mind? We can’t rule anything out.”
“Come on, Goedhart,” the thin woman will say. “Nothing in that man’s behavior yesterday seems planned. Why would he leave his personal display on his desk?”
“To avoid being found?” Goedhart replies.
“Then why would he have brought it in the morning?” the thin woman will ask, bending over the meeting table. “And I don’t understand this story about his colleague, Proctor. In one of the calls, he says he was out looking for a book for Richard. And we have the eye check and camera recording showing that he went to that old library. Why?”
“What does it matter? And by the way, the recordings at the scene of the crime were destroyed. We only know that he spent about half an hour in the library, but he may have participated in the murder earlier, as far as we know,” the fat, well-dressed man will say. “And then if it wasn’t him, what’s he hiding?”
“I don’t know, Meredith,” the Chief Operating Officer will comment from the head of the table. “This story is strange. I understand that this man is not an operative, but an outsider, a scholar. Still, he took a one-year training course before entering, as you should know. It’s your staff competency.”
“We don’t teach our non-operative agents that in an emergency they will be picked up by armed men who break into a public place,” she will respond, looking at Daft.
“We also don’t teach them to deprogram a private gun and reprogram it from the hands of a dead man.”
Santilli will open the door by speaking into the voice analyzer.
“Possible, but unlikely. They talked about wind, atmospheric pressure, and humidity. If they want to use explosives, guided missile systems already have everything they need to take these factors into account. Not a rifle. Not for a long-range shot.”
Cervetti will beat his hand on the railing, skipping the last step. “Much easier to conceal, to pass through checks!”
“We’re considering this possibility.” The man in the lab coat will nod, opening the door and walking on the footbridge above the stage. “And everything seems to confirm the hypothesis, from the recorded dialogues.”
“I thought I’d assign the suspicious shift to the same team. We just changed the operator, so as not to raise an alarm with the guards,” he will say, quickly going down the stairs. “Ah, here is Inspector De Santis.”
The stout man will shake the Chief Commissioner’s hand.
“So, what’s new?”
“Nothing for four days, Commissioner, then tonight the alarm went off,” the latter will say, staring at the control room monitors. “Half an hour ago. Same people, same virtual place, same topic. Our operator was good at following them, launching the intrusion program, and not being discovered.”
“One of them has very sophisticated defense programs,” Santilli will add, pointing to a sequence of words and numbers on the monitor. “Fast, efficient, professional. They don’t get lost in chatter, and they eliminate fear. Skittish.”
Cervetti will look at the monitor, understanding practically nothing. “And what exactly do we have?”
“We know that one of them was paid 10 percent upfront. They solved a complex ballistics problem, and the software is ready. Also, delivery will take place on the holographic space in two nights, more or less at this time.”
Cervetti will nod toward the monitor. “And this allows us to intercept them?”
“We have a good chance. But everything will be played out in a handful of minutes,” Santilli will reply. “If we have a team ready at the sending site.”
The dark-haired man will hold the thin woman’s gaze with an air of defiance. “If he’s innocent, why did he take it?” he will continue. “Weren’t there enough dead in there?”
“Come on, Daft. That gun didn’t fire a shot. We both know that. The crime scene reconstruction indicates that there must have been at least two people, at least one with an impulse machine gun.” The woman will indicate the images on the screens above the blond man’s head. “And why do you need to take a gun if you’re already armed? No, he was unarmed and afraid.”
“Where are you going with this, Meredith?” the CEO will ask.
“There are many dark spots in this affair. Let’s take Dr. Proctor’s death. With his throat slit, in his car, in the same area where cameras say he met Whiley. In a previous recording, Whiley tells our operator that they were supposed see each other today, but that the other had a cold. Were they going to see each other at the zoo? Or somewhere else? If you have a cold, you stay at home, or indoors, you don’t go to a zoo.”
“Do we have to believe everything Whiley said?” Goedhart will ask.
The thin woman will look at the Chief Operating Officer. “I could reverse the question,” she will say, looking at the two holograms of the men in the park, walking in the boardroom in front of the rhino network. “Why shouldn’t we believe anything he said?”
The CEO will look at the horn of the gray animal at the end of the room, then turn to the muscular man. “I don’t believe anything. I just want to know who we’re dealing with. And I want to know where Mr. Whiley is now, who he’s meeting, who he’s talking to. Step up your search, have all the available teams look for all the recordings, interrogate everyone who knows them, and use satellites. Move the world, but find him for me. I want to hear what happened in his own words.”
The participants around the table will look silently at the dark-haired man.
Cervetti will look at the two men anxiously. “Why, do we know where they are?”
“Almost, Commissioner,” the bearded man will say. “They were quick to stop, but we
identified the access nodes, all the way to the transmission zone.”
“Where?”
“One connects from Wroclaw, Poland, and the other from Istanbul.”
Two countries of the Euro-American Federation. That makes everything simpler.
“And now what can we do?”
“Next time we’ll be directly on the two nodes. As long as they don’t change the starting point, of course, but they didn’t do it the first two times,” Santilli will say. “We’ll have about ten minutes, but we can hinder them by slowing down the data transfer enough to increase the chances of physical tracing of the position of those sending them. At that point, we’ll report the exact location, with an error gap of less than ten meters. And if we have our own team on site, we can arrest him.”
“And the recipient?”
“That’s almost impossible. But if we have him in our hands, we can question him. And then...”
“... And then the recipient will also send the program to the customer, sooner or later,” Cervetti will say.
“And then at what point will we be ready?” the bearded man will ask.
Cervetti will walk in front of the monitor.
“I’ll have to be given permission for an intervention in Wrocław. I need the cooperation of the Polish police. Organize an emergency response team. Ask for a surveillance operation. Get permission to break into what is probably a private home. In two days.”
Santilli will put his hands in his pocket.
“Commissioner, if we miss this opportunity, we probably won’t have another one. There’s nothing to say that the buyer won’t then be contacted on the same channel.”
“Let’s say that if he’s as good as he seems,” De Santis will state, “it’s unlikely.”
“One thing I wish to make clear,” the dark-haired man will conclude. “I don’t know what Mr. Whiley’s reasons are, whether fear or interest, complicity or otherwise. However, I’ll not allow him or anyone else to disclose compromising things about the Agency. We won’t wash our laundry in public.”
Futura: Parallel Universes. Book 2 Page 6
