The Leaves in Winter

by M. C. Miller

  She then took another taxi to the HSBC Private Bank on Avenue du Prado where she arranged for a second safety deposit box. She was hoping to be in and out but instead she was shuttled aside to a bank officer who had to verify her New York office account. His innocent questions made her feel guilty. She couldn’t help being defensive. She hoped he would chalk it up as just another arrogant American.

  Finally, she returned to the old harbor section of the city where she checked into the Hotel Alize under an assumed name. She had never done such a thing before. She paid in advance in cash to avoid having to show a credit card. The reservationist looked her up and down and showed surprise when she requested a single room. He wasn’t bashful about showing suspicious that a solitary woman such as her would request a room for cash and not be entertaining someone.

  Her fifth-floor room at Hotel Alize overlooked the Quai des Belges seawall with a view that had inspired artists such as Cézanne and Monticelli. The outdoor fish market was not active at this time of day, but a steady stream of traffic and tourists added diversion and color. She took in the view for a second. Only one thing captured her attention. She unpacked the laptop and opened it on a small desk near the window. Her burning curiosity would not wait any longer.

  The file folders copied from GeLixCo appeared on the screen. She opened one named UDIF. In it were dozens of documents and spreadsheets. They bore scientific-sounding names but nothing Janis recognized. Another folder was named TZ. Inside of it, more lab documents and spreadsheets. One by one, Janis checked the creation dates on the files. All of them were in a timeframe fifteen to sixteen years ago.

  A third folder was named CA-CC. Inside of it were over a hundred documents. Janis opened one called CA-Base. It was a boilerplate template for Integrated Test Results Reports. Janis scanned the page and noted blank sections for items such as pilot test summary, acceptance criteria review, issues/workarounds, endorsements, and approval signatures. She closed the document.

  Her eye gravitated to another file called CA-Abstract. She opened it and read the three-page summary authored by Riya Basu. It detailed a Conformity Assessment being done for the UDIF/TZ Project. UDIF was defined as ultra-definition infrared. TZ referred to terahertz radiation. The goal of the CA was to secure a Conformity Certificate to ensure that specifications and standards were properly established for a new DNA analysis process. The final process should be easily interoperable and extensible. Eventually, it would need to pass review by the Department of Defense’s Biometrics Management Office (BMO) and the National Institute of Standards and Technology. Mention was made of DITSCAP, the DoD Information Technology Security Certification and Accreditation Process.

  Janis recoiled back in her seat. None of this was what she expected. This was not about Mass. There was nothing here about 3rd Protocol. This was a project Riya had worked on at NovoSenectus before Janis had gone to work for them. This project had studied the effect of focused radiation scans on DNA samples. The project was apparently such a success that it needed to develop ongoing ANSI NIST/AFIS standards. Whatever was being developed was intended for wide and common use among the defense, homeland security, and intelligence communities.

  Janis read aloud from the abstract.

  “The Biometrics Fusion Center (BFC), a subordinate unit and technical arm of BMO, will validate vendor performance claims, determine if technologies meet approved standards, and use testing and evaluation metrics and merits to achieve an acceptable and reasonable level of comparison considering variables (e.g., false match, false non-match).”

  Over the next hour, Janis opened each document and read them. The gathered facts centered on DNA analysis and a covert project to develop a quick and accurate means of confirming a person’s identification. Greedy for detail, Janis snatched acronyms and phrases from the text and added them to her overall impression. The scope was beyond anything anticipated. Some items she could recognize from similar methods and procedures employed at USAMRIID. Many others were new.

  “…Second-Party Testing to be conducted in Puerto Rico.”

  “…addendum to the Common Biometric Exchange Formats Framework.”

  “…pilot test group comprised of approximately 3.8 million military personnel including uniformed military, DoD civilians, and contractors.”

  “…must adhere to Subcommittee 37 (SC37) JTC1 guidelines…”

  “…conformance testing completed at a stateside Common Criteria Laboratory.”

  “…data compression will be based on the new extension of the Wavelet

  Scalar Quantization algorithm…”

  “…Performance Reporting Mechanisms – Receiver Operator Curve, Detection

  Error Trade-off Curve (DET), Cumulative Match Curve (CMC)”

  “…Collection Steps are as follows: Extraction / Quantization / Amplification /

  Genotyping / Interpretation of Results / Database Process.”

  “…Performance Metrics – False Acceptance Rate (FAR), False Rejection

  Rate (FRR), False Match Rate (FMR), False Non-Match Rate (FNMR),

  Failure-to-Enroll (FTE), Failure-to-Acquire (FTA).”

  In between the lines, Janis gleaned a greater impact. Each document added detail and weight to her understanding. It was clear – eighteen years ago, GeLixCo had been awarded a grant by an undisclosed agency of the U.S. government. GeLixCo was allowed to outsource part of the project to save money. NovoSenectus in India was selected as a partner. That was years before Eugene Mass bought the company.

  Back then, Riya was a rising star at NovoSenectus. Drafted into the project, her first role was establishing standards-based specifications for DNA material scans using various mixtures of UDIF and TZ radiations. She showed managers such promise they added her to the implementation work phase. Details of that phase were missing from what Janis had managed to copy from the archive.

  But the most telling fact was not in the archive. Janis knew it already from her work with Riya. Work on GenLET first started due to a radical new process for DNA analysis that Riya had developed.

  Or so Janis had thought.

  That analysis had jumpstarted the techniques that made the rapid progress on GenLET possible.

  Janis remembered starting work at NovoSenectus and her first days with Riya. Riya’s new technique just so happened to involve the scanning of various DNA samples using modulated controlled bursts of electromagnetic radiations. In proper proportions, blends of focused radiation could provide a clean unzip of DNA’s double helix for purposes of analysis.

  In light of the GeLixCo archive, it was evident that Riya had borrowed technology developed on the UDIF/TZ Project for her own uses. If so, then the genesis of early progress on GenLET laid squarely in the work originally done at GeLixCo in Puerto Rico – work secured by a U.S. intelligence agency for a whole other purpose. When Mass bought NovoSenectus two years later, the billionaire inherited the technology Riya had taken – illegally.

  No doubt the UDIF/TZ Project required a confidentiality agreement, possibly a security oath. But having worked with Riya, Janis understood the dynamic all too well. Riya had been seduced by the science. She cared little for what she saw as the artificial divisions between the control of information and the greater need for human progress. Riya would have had no problem justifying the use of what she had learned on one project to help another – regardless of one nation’s attempt to keep the discovery to itself.

  Of all things to discover, Janis had found evidence that Riya Basu had been guilty of dual-use duplicity in the application of biodefense secrets. Such a thing was the very reason why Janis had left USAMRIID. It was the one thing she thought she was free of working at NovoSenectus.

  Janis could only surmise what had happened in Riya’s last days. It was easy to see how she would have been panicked over what she discovered Mass was planning. Who could she turn to without giving herself away? Malcolm said she had told him SENEX was her contact. Knockout Mouse had said that SENEX was a codename that Colin I
nsworth had used. Had Riya turned to Colin because she knew him from long before – on the UDIF/TZ Project? That fact now appeared certain.

  For Janis, it all came together in a personal way. Was it possible that UDIF/TZ was the mystery project that Colin had left USAMRIID to work on? Colin had left her at the same time. Janis felt a chill run through her. It was all too close for comfort. It looked like UDIF/TZ was the project he couldn’t talk about with her but wanted to join. It was the main thing they’d argued about. It was the one thing they’d both used to justify their divorce.

  Janis sat back in her chair and stared at the screen. The once unbelievable was now overwhelming. All this time she had worked alongside Riya and never knew – Riya had probably worked with Colin secretly long before working with her. But Riya had never said anything about knowing Colin. Given the secrets that Riya had illegally taken to start GenLET, Janis now understood why.

  As Janis sat, she focused on the long list of file names in the open folder. By now, she had opened and read all of them. Except one. That file was not a document. It was an image. It was the only thing she hadn’t looked at yet.

  Emotionally, she’d reached a completion point. She opened the image with a sense of being thorough, not expecting much. To her surprise, it was a picture of a document, a dated fax saved as an image. She sat forward to get a closer look. The document was a handwritten memorandum. Alarmingly, its creation date was only weeks old.

  To: Javier

  From: EM

  Subject: Trigger

  It should be an accident. Something at a bio-defense lab. Manhattan would do nicely. Draw attention and resources there. Lots of blame to go around. Headlines to make it a circumstantial fact.

  We can use Oliver. He’ll jump at the chance.

  No love lost between him and Labon.

  3P will be a fait accompli.

  As always, wait for my sign

  – green, green, green.

  Janis read the memo over and over. Each pass only confirmed her rising horror. 3P had to refer to 3rd Protocol. So many details were written in such a little space. It was quite unlike the other material Malcolm had downloaded from GeLixCo. This was not dated years ago, not abstract or philosophical. This was blatant and operational. This contained clues and provided names – and it ended in an ominous way that corroborated what Knockout Mouse had said.

  “…triple green has always been the go-code…”

  A chilling snap of intuition hit Janis – this was the main thing Riya had hid.

  This shifted everything in the population collapse white papers out of the realm of the hypothetical. This was confirmation detailed enough to loose one’s life over.

  Frozen in her chair, Janis didn’t know whether to rush to tell someone what she had found or run far away and hide. Either way, it didn’t matter. Despite how utterly spent she felt, it was time to head out.

  Time to store the laptop in the bank’s safety deposit box.

  Time to visit the carousel. Time to meet with André Bolard.

  Chapter 20

  Sheldonian Theatre

  University of Oxford, England

  A twinge of annoyance pierced the composure on the face of Leah Mass.

  For the third time during her husband speech, his cell phone vibrated in her purse. Why Eugene hadn’t turned the blasted thing off before the event she couldn’t understand. She glanced down at her program and contemplated the title of the evening’s lecture: The Anthropocene Dilemma.

  A hot and cold sweat blanketed her. Even more puzzling than Eugene’s phone habits was the sharp edge to her irritation. Her nerves had been on hair-trigger release ever since she received a GenLET therapy treatment earlier in the day. Of course she couldn’t speak to anyone about it. She dare not go to a hospital during this trip for fear doctors would detect such a procedure had been done. She took a breath. Despite a slight faintness and nausea, she needed to maintain poise and self-control.

  Thank goodness today’s treatment was the last in the series she and her family would have to endure. Several therapies over the past few weeks had taken a toll. Meanwhile, the lab staff assured her everything had gone well. She was probably just tired from all the running around and the rushed flight from Brussels.

  Straightening up, Leah kept attention focused on her husband. He had been looking forward to this opportunity for weeks and she was proud of him. Someone needed to deliver impassioned testimony to indict the way humanity was conducting itself. It was such a vital message and rightfully deserved the center of attention.

  She was glad it was being captured on video and happier that members of the press had been allowed in. A heavy police presence kept the majority of New Class Order demonstrators at bay. It helped that the authorities had seen fit to close Broad Street out in front of the four-hundred-year-old meeting place.

  Seated in the theater’s front row, Leah held a posture matching the regal and urbane décor. From extra chairs at ground level to the highest row in the gilded balcony, a thousand students and honored faculty members comprised a largely sympathetic audience. Suited but refusing to wear a tie as always, Eugene Mass used no notes as he drove home his points with piercing eye contact.

  Some in the audience were not prepared for the intensity of his presentation. With sideways glances, Leah watched their faces. Most bore the smugness of youth. But here and there, beneath the tribal in-crowd exteriors of superiority and cool, their inner children were realizing the nightmare was true.

  From the darkness of their dread, the voice of Eugene Mass filled the hall.

  “…In closing, I’m faced with the problem of summing up. Facts alone do not stir anyone to action and yet facts give us the clearest picture of where we are and what we must confront. Some of you may want to do something to help. Most of you suspect you are impotent to make a real difference given the enormity of the entrenched and powerful forces aligned against you. The tides of human nature seem intractable.

  And so, all I can do is sum things up the way I see them.

  Years ago, a vaccination team from the Centers for Disease Control landed in Nigeria as part of an aggressive campaign to eradicate smallpox from the African continent. To their horror, they were met by angry people with knives. As it turned out, the vaccination team had never heard of Shapona. It’s an African word meaning ‘overlord of the Earth.’ The local Yoruba people were furious. These strangers intended on waging war against their deity – a smallpox god. It was vital that Shapona control his realm with smallpox. Smallpox wasn’t a disease; it was an instrument of divine judgment, a necessary indicator of Shapona’s disapproval.

  From New York to Shanghai, from Cape Town to Helsinki, each in our own way – we all have our personal Shaponas. No matter how progressive we think we are, a primitive core is harbored within everyone. All give energy and devotion to idols of our collective passions, however our individual cultures may define them. The question is – when the time comes, how easily will we stand with knives in our hands when the forces of reason come to rescue us?

  Those who worry about an approaching tipping point are blind to the precarious world we live in. We’re already off balance. The Anthropocene Dilemma is not something we can pass on to a future generation to solve. One generation blaming another at this point is juvenile and misses the point. Everyone alive today has a responsibility and a stake in this. Any person alive has a carbon footprint and represents one part of the problem. The planet is dying – not by the mayhem of a megalithic machine but by billions of tiny individual cuts. Each one of you is a cut. So am I.

  Anyone who intends on having children must ask themselves hard questions about what constitutes sustainable development. Time for blame is over. Now we must act.. It will not matter if we restrict family size to one child if the polar ice caps melt, the oceans rise, and food production is wiped out as the planet’s temperature soars.

  Take China, for example. It’s already the world’s largest emitter of gases that warm th
e planet. It risks the melting of the Himalayan glaciers and disrupting major rivers and the nation’s water supply but it shows no signs of restraining its CO2 output. If anything, it’s increasing. China is building new coal-fired power plants at an astounding rate – one a month, every month.

  From what I’ve seen in humanity’s binge with itself, the sobering facts are ignored. But I need to say them. I know they may wash over you, but like the sea of humanity they describe, ignoring them will not make them go away.

  Every day, 2.7 million babies are born.

  At any given time, 100,000,000 women are pregnant.

  27% of the world's population is below 15 years of age.

  50,000 years ago, the world’s population totaled 10,000. Think about that. There were only 10,000 humans on the planet and they were concentrated in one tribe living in Africa, a region where the Kalahari Desert now stretches across Namibia. Today, the San Bushman tribe still lives there. But the world has changed.

  It took 48,000 years, until 1804, for the population to reach 1 billion.

  Just 150 years later, by 1927, that number had doubled to 2 billion.

  Just 50 years later, by 1974, that number had doubled to 4 billion.

  Just 50 years later, by 2025, it’s estimated that number will more than double.

  We have reached the point of unsustainability.

  The Earth simply cannot support a continued doubling of population every 50 years. We don’t have the energy for it, the fresh water for it, the food for it, the vital mineral resources for it.