“Europa?” Rector said. “That’s the moon around...?”
“It’s a moon of Jupiter,” Doug said, “and Mekhos told me that he briefly considered it as a replacement for us or for you. The Limited must have known about it. They should have given the order. Mekhos performed an inter-dimensional transfer. It could have moved Europa, and still could if he wasn’t messed up.”
“The order wasn’t given to Mekhos,” Rector said quite calmly, “because Mekhos doesn’t take orders from the Limited any more. The only person it responds to in a consistent and positive way is Norman Stravinsky.”
Rector moved to the computer and checked the exterior video monitors. Doug regarded Bishop.
“So you replaced the agent Bishop here? What happened to him?”
“Dr. Lockwood,” Rector interjected, “that’s not a suitable topic of conversation right now. We need to forge ahead.”
“How did you know my mission to sway Mekhos would fail?”
“We didn’t know it would fail. We only knew that the odds were stacked against you for the meeting,” Bishop said. “Mekhos had already made up its mind. The fact Dr. Persaud was compromised and wouldn’t be accompanying you in the negotiation made things worse. In the unlikely event things did go well, we knew you wouldn’t have needed to issue the theta command.”
“So now we’re going with a public relations campaign?” asked Doug. Bishop nodded.
“A public relations campaign,” Doug repeated. “The only entity that I know of that is likely capable of restoring the moon to its orbit around Earth and also restoring a moon-like satellite around FLO, is Mekhos. Problem is, right now and the last I looked Mekhos has been reduced to the equivalent of a crashed personal computer.”
“The point is, Mekhos is occupied and won’t be able to monitor or stop the press releases.”
“That’s where you come in,” Rector said without looking up from the monitor as he cycled through several exterior security camera views. “You are going to put your personality and scientific expertise behind the news releases to tell people here that your planet’s civilization is essentially doomed because of the action taken by Mekhos.”
“We’re hoping there will be rapid pushback if the public knows their continued survival is bought at the expense of their brothers and sisters on another world. Even with the control Mekhos wields and assuming it recovers, public opinion still counts for something,” said Bishop.
As Bishop explained the situation, Rector walked over to some wall shelving, ripped some tape from under a shelf and retrieved a key.
“We have Nathan Smith for the diplomacy side,” said Doug. “He’s on a goodwill tour as we speak. We need to hook up with him as soon as possible.”
“Smith is a career diplomat,” Bishop said quickly, “and he’s not part of this. There has to be an innocent man and Smith is it. He’s not posing the hard questions to leaders or explaining the gravity of the situation for fear of being censured. If this falls apart, Smith may be the only one of us who makes it back to Earth. You can do a much better job anyway.”
“Won’t the authorities lock me up to keep me quiet? The welfare of two planets is at stake here, so I’m getting the uncomfortable feeling that you two are painting a bulls-eye on my back.”
“Doubtful,” Bishop replied. “It would be a PR mess. You’re the famous Professor Lockwood from the Twin. You’re more popular right now than most celebrities. Nobody would stand for it if you came to harm or disappeared, especially if you announce your intent to stay here and be an advocate for your planet.”
“When I return to the authorities they’ll screen any announcements I make.”
“No. Again, nobody would stand for it,” Rector said, shaking his head firmly as he checked his tablet. “Besides that, it looks like you’re listed as a potential kidnap victim.”
Doug’s nagging fear about an arrest suddenly disappeared.
“You’re going to be a surprise guest on a popular radio program this afternoon,” Bishop said. “It’s been kept quiet. Only the program director knows. I’ve been compromised, but that wasn’t unexpected. Alexei will drive you to the station. Once you’re finished there, you’ll be free to return to the authorities. They won’t interfere once this is out.”
“I’ll go and get our other guest,” said Rector as he started towards the stairs.
Doug wished he had another member of his team with him for the announcement. Then he remembered Stan Foley.
“What information did you get on Foley? Were you aware he was killed?”
Rector stopped walking and looked back at Bishop.
“No,” said Bishop. “I wasn’t able to get any information on Foley’s whereabouts or his condition. How did he die?”
“He was killed by Mekhos. Or Mekhos ordered it. Back home Arthur Leach and his minders infected Foley with a pathogen designed to create a plague condition here. Mekhos didn’t want to risk any chance of it spreading. Apparently, Persaud was in on it too.” Doug moved away from the two men and leaned against the desk, still processing the manipulative actions of those back home and how it might influence the way things eventually played out on FLO.
“The intrepid Mr. Leach. Not surprising. Running a parallel operation alongside this one. I wouldn’t have guessed he’d do something so extreme though,” said Bishop. “They were stupid enough to think it would work but I don’t see the point. What did they expect to accomplish?” It wasn’t really a question. He thought for a moment, then turned to Rector.
“This may have an impact. Does this change the plan?”
“No. There’s no way people will believe Professor Lockwood was behind it, or that he had prior knowledge. In fact, the pathogen operation will likely be kept from the public. I don’t think there would be anything to gain by releasing the information, at least not at the moment.
“Norman Stravinsky is locked in an office upstairs. He’s a reasonable man. Once we lay all the cards on the table he should agree to accompany you to the interview.”
Doug felt a surge of hope. If Stravinsky, the revered creator of Mekhos was on their side they might have a chance. Stravinsky had influence with government, the scientific community, industry and perhaps had inside knowledge on the method Mekhos used to take the Moon.
“That’s excellent news. But with Mekhos offline—”
“Mekhos isn’t offline, only temporarily distracted,” Bishop corrected him. “The plan is for Virtue to use this time to gain control of Mekhos, which will allow us to immediately launch ships from FLO to the asteroid belt to retrieve sufficient mass to replace our moon.”
Doug shook his head as Rector walked up the stairs.
“Mekhos said such a plan won’t work.”
“Maybe it just wasn’t interested in trying,” Bishop replied. “Virtue’s science expert also recommended ferrying articulating reflection panels into what was once the Moon’s orbit. They’d be remote controlled to simulate phases. It wouldn’t bring back tides of course, but the trips to the asteroid belt will retrieve as much mass as possible.”
“Without help from Mekhos that would take decades,” Doug said.”
“Yes, but with the help of engineers on FLO we’re hoping a solution will be developed sooner rather than later. Don’t ask me how. It’s a bit beyond my pay grade, but at least in the meantime we’ll be using available spacecraft to obtain some massive objects.”
Bishop reached into a desk drawer and produced a folder, handing it to Doug.
“Here’s a script, detailing some of what I just said. You and Stravinsky can study it here before we take you to the radio station.”
Rector rushed back down the stairs, alone.
“Stravinsky is gone.”
– 83 –
Twenty minutes earlier Norman Stravinsky had been nervously waiting in the locked office. Agent Rector’s story seemed plausible. Virtue had made an attempt on his life before. There was the recorded message from his regular driver Charles, back
ing up Rector’s story. But Stravinsky hadn’t been permitted to contact any family members, his regular security staff or Mekhos. It unnerved him. Locking him in the office of an abandoned building might be a perfectly reasonable though perhaps unnecessarily stringent precautionary measure to keep him safe. But the fact that Rector was the only person directly making these claims continued to raise Stravinsky’s suspicions. He knew it was possible that the recording of his driver had been faked or even extracted under duress.
The dusty office was almost bare, containing only an old swivel chair and desk. The ceiling was a meter higher than normal, with horizontal wire mesh windows just high enough to be out of his reach. They were slightly open for ventilation. Norman paced the office. He had to sit tight and see how the situation played out.
Stravinsky heard the sound of a diesel truck moving by outside. As he was being driven to the building he had noticed a billboard nearby advertising a new retail development. Diesel vehicles were still permitted in industrial areas. Perhaps it was there to pick up construction waste.
As the vehicle came closer Stravinsky could hear the sound of a radio. The truck driver’s window had to be open, because the radio was quite loud.
“Hello!” Norman yelled. “Help, I’m trapped in this building! I’m Norman Stravinsky, can you hear me? Please call the police!”
Stravinsky shouted as the vehicle was idling. He could hear a furniture ad being played over the blaring radio, the idling diesel and the crashing sounds of heavy debris being tossed into the truck. There was no response to his shouts. The workmen had to be half deaf from listening to the diesel noise and smashing industrial refuse all day.
“Listen, I’m trapped up here,” Norman yelled again, as loudly as he could. “I’m Norman Stravinsky, I’m locked in this building. Call the authorities!”
The driver couldn’t hear him. The vehicle continued on its way. As it moved off the radio ad ended and Norman could just barely hear the announcer say the words “The MC building...are multiple explosions in...further emergency evacuation...so stay tuned for further updates.”
Norman turned pale. Mekhos is under attack… Rector may be working for Virtue. He and his cohorts wanted me out of the way for some reason, maybe to use me in a blackmail attempt, Norman thought.
He did not need more than half a minute to make up his mind. He had to escape.
He pushed the heavy desk to the wall under the window. He climbed onto the desk and got eye level with the bottom of the window frame. The glass and frame were sturdy. He jumped back down to the floor and repositioned the desk so the narrow end was facing the window. He placed the office chair onto the desk. While standing on the far end of the desk he raised the chair above his head and charged at the window. The glass smashed, the chair falling through the frame to land on the pavement below.
Norman took off one of his shoes and knocked the remaining shards of glass out of the frame. He put his shoe back on and placed his hands on the window frame, jumping up so that his elbows rested on the frame. It was wide enough so that he could raise one leg up to it and ease himself through to the outside, swinging his legs down while holding onto the windowsill.
The coarse concrete windowsill scraped his hands as he lowered himself, preparing for the drop. The soles of his feet were about his own height above the pavement. He let go, simultaneously kicking at the wall to get some distance from the building. He landed without tumbling to the ground, but the impact was jarring. He felt a momentary piercing pain in his left ankle.
Stravinsky limped away, wondering where he should go first. He had to get out of the area before agent Rector returned. His office, the security office or the MC complex. Any one of those places would allow him to make contact.
Mekhos needed him.
– 84 –
At twenty-four years old, Nick Rojas was three years out of MIT and considered to be one of the most forward-thinking software engineers of his generation. While a student one topic of his research was quantum processor technology and theory. Right after graduation he was snapped up by TranSilica.
Soon after its activation, Mekhos started manipulating material supplies and financial resources to discourage development in new quantum processor research. Critical rare metals suddenly became unavailable. Grants dried up. After a while it became clear to the research community that Mekhos didn’t want them building another quantum computer. There was a lot of complaining at first, but after a few months there was only resignation. Mekhos was intractable on the matter. Other avenues could be explored, but quantum computing was off limits.
There had been plenty of private speculation about the restriction. The most likely explanation seemed to be that Mekhos knew it was unique and wanted to prevent another intelligent computer from evolving, one that might not be under its control. It was all speculation.
That left traditional silicon transistor computing. Though the underlying technologies were dissimilar, Nick was able to apply some of the theoretical models learned from Norman Stravinsky’s quantum computing breakthrough. Combined with new manufacturing processes designed for TranSilica by Mekhos itself, the result was a dramatic increase in transistor processing power. The twenty percent per year increase that the solid state processor industry had been stuck on suddenly vanished. TranSilica’s new processors were a hundred times faster than the previous generation. It was still nowhere near the power of a quantum computer, but it kept business and industry happy. The new processor also allowed conventional supercomputers to simulate some of the quantum process, albeit at much slower speeds.
While still at MIT one of Nick’s technical papers caught the eye of a Virtue member. The public face of Virtue was tarnished because of the crimes it committed in the name of its anti-Mekhos activities. What the public didn’t know was that Virtue had legitimate cells that operated without direct ties back to the core organization. The branches included technology firms. One such firm was TranSilica, the powerful company that in partnership with the government helped fund the MC complex.
Carl Bertrand had been on the TranSilica board of directors back then. He was also a member of Virtue, and had given final approval to the hiring of Nick. In that time Nick had been using his algorithms to simulate the workings of Mekhos. Nick was under the impression that his research at TranSilica would be applied to future computer systems designed to increase the efficiency of the private and public financial sectors.
Bertrand had lately rarely been in the office. As a member of the Envoy to the Twin his training had taken him away for many weeks. A few months earlier Nick had been reassigned to a new project, one described by Bertrand as being of the highest priority. As it had been explained to Nick, his Mekhos simulation had to reach ready status as soon as possible, to control all existing systems should anything ever happen to the quantum supercomputer. Bertrand explained that the project had been initiated by Mekhos itself, but was to be kept secret to avoid undermining the confidence of the public in their quantum guardian.
Like everyone else, Nick had heard about the morning’s terrorist attack against Mekhos. He’d been called directly by Carl Bertrand for an urgent meeting. Nick thought it strange that he had been instructed to take off his Raim before coming to the meeting. Bertrand welcomed Nick with small talk but then got to the point. There were two other men in Bertrand’s office but Nick couldn’t tell if they were aides or security of some sort.
“I’ve seen your theoretical models and they look excellent. How confident are you about constructing a two-way interface between the computer in your lab and a working quantum computer so that orders can be issued from the lab?”
Nick looked at each man in turn.
“Well, on paper it works flawlessly,” Nick said as he fidgeted with his pen. “But that was based on the state of Mekhos one year ago. The consensus among some of my old professors at MIT was that the QC is constantly evolving, gaining new capabilities through increased computing power. I can’t make any guarantee th
at what would have worked one year ago will work today. Operating statistics on Mekhos are no longer made public. Mekhos doesn’t even provide them to TranSilica through the MC anymore.”
“We’ve looked over your proposals and project calculations,” Bertrand said, ignoring Nick’s concerns, “and we don’t foresee an issue. This is to take effect on a contingency basis, you understand? Any attempt to send commands prematurely, when Mekhos is active, may damage the lab computer. This is a top secret project. Your non-disclosure agreement is enforceable. Not a word to anyone under any circumstances, personal or otherwise. Security is paramount. You must be ready to go on a minute’s notice should Mekhos be compromised.”
After a short briefing Nick was instructed to interface his program with the main systems. For the time being, TranSilica’s massive systems would be the custodian of world affairs until Mekhos could recover. At least, that is what he and his team were told.
The first order of business had to be control of the mechanisms steering the moon into orbit. Eight weeks earlier Nick had been given the design specifications for the mechanisms and as much of the kernel code for the control software that Bertrand’s people were able to obtain. Nick was required to fill in the blanks, which he and his team had finished a few days earlier. Nick and his team had worked hard. The crucial test was only a few hours away.
– 85 –
After limping some distance from the industrial park Norman managed to flag down a taxi. When the driver asked his destination he didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t sure where he should go. On the extremely remote chance that agent Rector was telling the truth, there might not be many safe destinations. He decided to attempt to contact Mekhos directly, and the quickest way would be through his Raim unit left in the basement of his usual café. He gave the driver the address.
Ten minutes later he paid the driver and descended the stairs to the utility room. He looked behind the plumbing supplies on the shelf where he left it, and there it was. He put the Raim back on his wrist and entered the pattern that would allow him to contact Mekhos.
Dark Nights Page 26
