Entanglement

by Michael Brooks

  'So you think Gierek's built a working quantum computer?'

  Born raised his eyebrows. 'Possibly. I'm not sure it's quite that simple. But you tell me why else Akshay Gupta is – what was it? Being dealt with.'

  Virgo frowned. 'What does Gupta do?'

  'Quantum cryptography.'

  'What's that?'

  Born stared like he couldn't believe Virgo had to ask. 'It's a means of hiding information in the quantum states of light. You entangle the photons holding the data, and fire them out through a standard optical fibre, or whatever. Because the entanglement link is so fragile, any eavesdropper leaves a clear trail in the data, like a fox tramping through virgin snow. Even a quantum computer can't break in.'

  Virgo absorbed the information without reaction. Gupta's being dealt with? What did that mean?

  Born answered his unspoken question. 'I've always said it's the quantum cryptography guys who should be the most scared. People – good people and bad people – don't like unbreakable encryption. It puts everything off kilter, destroys the natural balance.' He held up his hands in surrender. 'All I'm saying is that, if I had a quantum computer, I'd want Gupta dealt with too.'

  That was it. He had to go. He took the wad of banknotes – just in case. In case of what? To bribe Gupta? It didn't matter. He wrote down his mobile phone number for Born, then turned as he stood at the front door, and motioned towards the unconscious woman.

  'If she wakes up, you'll just have to slug her again,' he said. 'I'll be back in a couple of hours. Three at the most.' He paused. 'I have to find out what Gupta knows.'

  'Want me to have a look at the other disk again while you're gone?'

  Virgo shook his head. He was already at the door. 'I might need to show it to Gupta.'

  As he closed the car door, Virgo reached for his phone and called directory enquiries.

  'University of Cambridge, Cavendish Laboratory.'

  The wait was excruciating.

  'Akshay Gupta, please.'

  Another wait.

  Voicemail.

  Who else could he call? Andy would know nothing about this stuff. Should he call Charles? The photo of Rachel came back into his mind. Not yet. There was too much at stake. Best keep it small, keep it manageable. He wasn't out of his depth. Not yet.

  He had to go and find Gupta, whatever it took. He flipped the phone shut. Should he turn it off? No, Genovsky was under control, and Born might need to reach him. Virgo set his right foot to the floor and pulled the car away.

  CHAPTER 23

  HE DROVE WITH THE fastest of the traffic, anxiously scanning ahead for police patrol cars. A check on the licence plates would be the last thing he needed. There was a dead body in his front room, in plain view. Genovsky had sent a picture of his wife to someone. He hoped Mercer had never made that call to the police. He needed some time.

  It was raining again: grey November drizzle. He hated winter. That was one of the very many good reasons for spending a week in Cuba about now. Thank God, Rachel and Katie would still be safely airborne, and they'd be thousands of miles away from this mess by the time they landed. That was something, at least.

  How had this happened? How the hell had he got involved with the kind of people who would build a quantum computer and then kill anyone who found out about it? Could Born be right about the disks?

  No, it was still too ridiculous. There was a perfectly obvious, simple explanation: there had to be. One that explained why Radcliffe was now lying in a Baltimore morgue. And why Gierek was lying dead in a front room in Richmond. Quite a trail. And leading right to his front door. He really did not want to get stopped by the police just now. He turned on the radio, just in case there was any news he should be aware of. A man shot dead in a Richmond living room, perhaps.

  Entanglement between the disks could work in theory, he could see that. It was just the practice that seemed ludicrously difficult. You would have to get the molecules of plastic in the data layer of the disk to interact somehow during their formation. Maybe Gierek could do that. Who knew?

  Alexandra Genovsky, that's who. He had to find out what he could from Gupta, and then get back.

  'Gupta is being dealt with.' What the hell did that mean?

  The radio announcer was running through the headlines of the three o'clock news as Virgo approached the west side of Cambridge. He wasn't in the headlines, at least. Just ahead of him, beyond the cranes towering above the steel frames of two half-finished research blocks and the sleek shell of Microsoft's new outpost, lay the low, stepping rise of the Cavendish Laboratory. A strange sense of fond remembrance flooded over him. In another life, he could still be working here. Everything would be different, if only he had made different choices, nurtured his academic side. The sand-cement blockwork looked ancient and dependable, part of the landscape. He had enjoyed studying here; why had he given up the opportunities it brought?

  Because he was born for journalism, not academia. He had no regrets. Even now, with all hell rolling around his life, he wouldn't change anything about his past.

  Virgo swung the car into the closest parking space to the entrance. A large blue plaque declared the space reserved for the director of research, but he had no time for protocols now.

  He paused in the lobby, and studied the building plan. Gupta's office was only a short run over a raised walkway, past the library, and down a corridor on the right. His labs were deeper in the building. Virgo went for the office.

  There was no answer to his insistent rapping on the door. After two minutes, he gave up. Gupta could be in his lab. Again, he ran. As he turned the first corner, he knocked into two students and sent a flurry of books into the air. He shouted an apology, but kept running.

  He crashed into the lab door, pushed it open, and stood in the doorway panting. Four faces looked up at him. Two were bent over a mess of wires and circuit boards; the other two were sat in front of a whiteboard littered with equations. None of them said anything.

  'I'm looking for Akshay,' he said, drawing breath. They looked at each other. Eventually, one of the people, an Indian man sitting at the electronics bench, spoke. 'Is something wrong?'

  'I just need to talk to him,' Virgo said. 'I'm Nathaniel Virgo. I'm a journalist.' He extended a hand to the man.

  'Kumar Changani.'

  The tension in the faces eased. 'We haven't seen him,' Changani said. 'He said he'd be in today. You're the second person to come here looking for him. Has he forgotten an appointment?'

  Virgo's stomach dropped.

  'Who was the other one?' he said, trying to keep his voice level. 'The other person, I mean.'

  'I didn't catch his name. He was from a company interested in licensing our crypto system. Said he had an appointment with Akshay. There was nothing in the diary, though. I called Akshay's home but got no answer.'

  'Do you have any idea where Akshay might be?' Virgo looked around. All the faces were blank.

  'If he comes back, or you hear from him, can you get him to call me?' He dug into a pocket and handed over a business card. 'On my mobile. I won't be in the office.'

  He turned, then turned back. Might as well ask.

  'Is it possible someone could have built a quantum computer?'

  Changani smiled, then shook his head.

  'Then how come someone wants to license your cryptography system? I mean, there's only one reason to go that far, isn't there?'

  Changani hesitated for a moment. 'Well, I suppose you would want to use quantum crypto if you were paranoid. Then, if someone did develop a quantum computer, you'd still be safe. But if I wanted to find out your secrets that badly, I wouldn't wait for a quantum computer. There are much easier ways. You find someone who will give you the passwords. Or you hack in; someone's always left some part of the system on its factory settings, even in high-security networks.'

  'So what's the point of quantum cryptography? You're not a great salesman, Kumar.'

  'The point?' Changani shrugged, then smiled again
. 'It's fun to work on. And it makes people feel better. It's always good to know you've done everything you can.'

  That was it? That was the cutting edge of cryptoreasoning: the feelgood factor?

  'Thanks.'

  'No problem.' Changani raised a hand in farewell. 'I'll call you if I hear from Akshay.'

  Virgo backed out of the lab and shut the door. Where now? Back to Born's? Or wait for Gupta to show up? He couldn't afford the wait if it was going to be fruitless. If Genovsky's people had got to Gupta already, there was no point hanging around. And Rachel? He had to get back and face his worst fears.

  Virgo was just getting into the car as his phone rang. He looked at the screen. It was an Oxford number.

  'Hello? Born?'

  'No, Mr Virgo. He's not here any more.' The voice was rich, the accent strange and luxurious. 'This is Alexandra Genovsky. Where are you, exactly?'

  CHAPTER 24

  THE VOICE IN HIS ear hollowed him, scooped out his guts. What had happened? Where was Born? He was on his own. Again.

  Time to step up. He could do this. He could handle Alexandra Genovsky.

  'I'm in Cambridge, Ms Genovsky. Learning some very useful things about this disk that Paul Radcliffe gave me. You know – the other one?'

  There was the slightest hesitation before she spoke again. She was having to think. Virgo's guts started to make their way back into his belly.

  'I need you to come to Heathrow airport. I have a plane to catch, and I need that disk,' she said.

  'Where's Born?'

  'Maybe we could talk about that when you meet me at Heathrow. Terminal Four, at the departures gate. I've no doubt you'll recognise me. And I'll certainly recognise you from that lovely photo of you and your wife – Rachel, isn't it? She's very beautiful.' Genovsky paused. 'But Cuba is a very dangerous place, you know. Anything could happen to her there.'

  She waited for a reply, but Virgo couldn't find his voice.

  'I'll give you an hour and a half to get there,' she said.

  The line went dead.

  Virgo started the engine and pulled out of the car park. It was just starting to get dark. He focused on keeping himself moving along the road. The clarity would come back to his mind eventually. He needed a plan: he had to have a guarantee that Rachel and Katie were safe. Did Genovsky know about Katie? She hadn't mentioned her. What difference did it make? They would be together: if anything happened to Rachel, it would happen to Katie too. He felt sick.

  He had to assume Born was dead. Maybe the twine couldn't hold her, and Genovsky overpowered him. If so, she wouldn't hesitate to kill him. That would be three bodies. He should go to the authorities now. They could meet Rachel and Katie off the plane, take them into safe custody.

  And what if they didn't believe him? He had already lied to the security services, or whoever it was that Frank Delaney was working with. And two, probably three, people were dead now, and he had been at the scene each time. Was there any reason for them to believe he hadn't done it?

  He had to meet Genovsky, at least – make sure Rachel and Katie were left out of this mess. Maybe then there'd be a way for him to walk away too.

  He shook his head. Who was he kidding? Genovsky was bound to want everything clean – no survivors. If there was a quantum computer, he already knew far too much for Genovsky to allow him to live.

  He closed his eyes, just for a second, to expunge the thought from his chattering mind.

  He'd worry about that when Rachel and Katie were safe.

  CHAPTER 25

  GABRIEL MACINTYRE HISSED INTO the phone. He knew he couldn't be overheard; the Red Spot corporation had rewarded him with a corner office, a spectacular view over Boston, and the soundproofing was, of course, excellent – it was designed to keep the vice-president's business safe from prying ears. Their competitors could buy off junior staff too easily; no one could be trusted.

  But he kept his voice down anyway: it helped him stay calm. If he couldn't control himself, what hope did he have of controlling anyone else?

  'I don't care. I want him dead. Now.'

  It wouldn't happen. Marinov seemed intent on finding out what Virgo knew first.

  MacIntyre felt bile rise into his throat. What was there to be gained? Nathaniel Virgo might already know about the entanglement software. He wanted Virgo dead. One hole was all it would take.

  The power, the potential that this quantum computer possessed – it was so much more than the sum of its parts. He liked the entanglement, it felt like a friend these days, safe and reliable and the source of good things. But it was bringing bad company. The quantum computer, the cipher-smashing power it created, was too much. It was all spinning out of control.

  MacIntyre turned his burning gaze out of the window. Here, from the fifteenth floor, the city looked so small. Even the roadworks ranged along the ribbon of road before the sea looked insignificant. Only the Old State House stood out. The city's corporations had tried to get it demolished; they needed to fill the space with another tower. But they had failed; this was where the city first heard the Declaration of Independence. So they tried to bury it, lose it among the rise of the surrounding skyscrapers. But it was still there, speaking, goading. It was crowded by the skyscrapers, but its gold tower still managed to throw light over the surrounding streets. It was beautiful, anachronistic here among all this steel and glass. Somehow it caught the sun, drawing the eye, pulling at passers-by like a nagging conscience. The site of the Boston massacre. How times had changed; five people dead hardly constituted a massacre these days.

  Jennie smiled out at him from the photo on his desk. He had her image on his computer's desktop too. He flicked the mouse, and the Red Spot screensaver disappeared, revealing her dark eyes and toothy grin. He tried to carry her with him into work – inside his head, on cheesy snapshots, even on his key ring. But she seemed somehow unreal once he sat behind this vast slab of mahogany. Here, his purpose was to push up profits, shave the bottom line. Business 101, second lesson: you served at the shareholders' pleasure. You couldn't serve both your daughter and the shareholders.

  So you compartmentalised. He couldn't even summon up any guilt, sitting here. There was no guilt in the office, just a pathological compulsion to complete the next task. The stuff he should feel guilty about – the stuff that hounded him around the house, in the presence of Barbie, and Jennie's dressing-up clothes – had no power over him here. Sometimes he felt like a corporate Clark Kent. Red Spot's rising star and – when he allowed it to surface – human being. Husband and father, neighbour and friend.

  But Marinov didn't give a shit about his worries. The disconnection tone droned in MacIntyre's ear, and he put the receiver down. He wasn't being entirely selfish. He had done some checks, and he suspected that this Virgo guy had never meant to become involved in their project. But now that he was, he'd be better off dead.

  CHAPTER 26

  DRIVING BACK INTO HEATHROW, Virgo felt a daze descend over him like mist. The earlier trip seemed unreal: in another life he had waved Rachel and Katie off, thinking he would see them again within hours, maybe a day or two at most. Now – now, in this life – he might not see them again at all. It was unthinkable; the cliché was true.

  This was what happened to other people.

  He put his Ford in the long-term parking but knew he wasn't coming back for it. He had a passport, a fistful of cash and the disk. Everything else was surplus to requirements. He felt a raindrop on the back of his neck as he got out of the car. Overhead, the sky was dark.

  The shuttle bus to the terminal building took twenty minutes to arrive, and Virgo huddled in the dark shelter with four other travellers, watching the rain drip down on the greygreen ash trees that bordered the vast car park.

  Alexandra Genovsky was waiting for him at departures, just as she said. Her mouth was formed into the thin, distant smile that emerges from a face familiar with pain. The bruise he had inflicted was darkening. Even though the thick layer of newly applied
blusher concealed the full extent of its fury, it was obvious that the discoloration would continue for days yet.

  'How are you, Virgo?' she said. The smile stayed, forced, on her lips.

  'I'm all right,' he said. 'You?'

  'I have to say, my face hurts.'

  She broadened her smile, her eyes dull and cold. They were a rich hazel, with flecks of forest green. But when he looked into them, he noticed that the pupils were perfectly black: black holes, pulling in the light.

  'Thank you for leaving the number for your wife's hotel in your home,' she said. 'It certainly made things easier.'

  Virgo didn't return the smile. He was thinking too hard. He needed information. He needed her guard down.

  'I have the disk. But how do I know you'll leave my wife alone if I give it to you?' He wasn't going to mention Katie until Genovsky did. 'What's on the disks? Something you can't live without? Do you really need both of them?'

  Her face set hard. The movement pulled her cheek taut, and Virgo noticed a line of scar tissue behind the blusher and the bruising. It was a long curve running from one eye, down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. She watched his eyes follow the contour, and ignored his question.

  'Are you wondering what damage you did to me?' she said. The anger passed, and she looked amused again. 'You held back, didn't you? Just at the last minute. When you saw I was a woman.'

  She was dancing round him, like a featherweight boxer. Virgo looked up at the screens showing departures information. 'Where are you going?'

  'It's not Cuba, if that's what you're thinking. I have people there to take care of business.'

  'You have people? Or Vasil has people?'

  Her eyes flashed at him. He had landed a punch there. He was doing OK.

  'Who is Vasil? What exactly is going on? How do I get my wife out of this?'

  The scar on Genovsky's cheek shivered. 'And your daughter, of course?'