The Black Hole

by Hammond, Ray

  ‘Well done, Sergy,’ said an English voice. Despite the distance and the myriad electronics between them, it was instantly recognisable. ‘You are absolutely sure the colliders will work as intended?’

  ‘They will work precisely as planned,’ he reassured Makowski.

  ‘Excellent,’ came the reply. ‘At last we can end this madness once and for all.’

  *

  ‘Hey, Harry, Alexander Makowski has just uploaded a new video,’ said Mondogirl Maria from his communicator just as Floyd was coming up to fifteen miles.

  ‘O.K., put it up,’ said the still-bandaged CTU agent as he lowered the resistance feedback on his cycling machine. Then he sat upright to look at the screen suspended in front of him in the clinic’s small gym.

  Still pedalling slowly, Floyd examined the pinched, pale features of the world’s most dangerous terrorist. When he had first volunteered for transfer from his SAS regiment to the Counter Terrorism Unit ten years earlier fanatical religious extremists had been the greatest terrorist threat in a century which, even before it was halfway through, was proving itself to be a century dominated by terrorism. But as computers had become smarter than humans and medical science had altered what it meant to be human, anti-progress radicals and anti-technology terrorists had become a far more dangerous threat to public safety than old-fashioned religious fanatics; paradoxically, the anti-tech terrorists were far more technologically capable than all other types of extremist.

  ‘As the leader of Humans First I am proud to claim responsibility for terminating the criminally selfish existence of the transhumanist evangelist Marvin Nesbit and many other non-humans like him,’ Makowski was saying unblinkingly. ‘I again warn the technocratic governments of the United States, the European Union, Russia and South East Asia that unless immediate legislation is prepared to outlaw all transhuman technologies, my organization will use extreme force to ensure the survival and continuing preeminence of the natural human race.’

  Floyd stopped pedalling and frowned at the screen.

  ‘Let there be no doubt that present trends in computing, enhanced human biology and genetic engineering, if unchecked, will lead to the extinction of the human species as we now know it,’ continued the Humans First leader. ‘Without any moral scruples the world’s greediest technology corporations are developing ultra-clever machines and enhanced forms of humanity that will combine to take over and become our successor species on this planet. This must not be allowed to happen. We have published a list of over two thousand corporations which are developing technologies with transhuman potential. These companies must be immediately shut down and dissolved.’

  ‘Play that last bit again,’ Floyd told his virtual assistant Maria, even as he did so tacitly acknowledging that Makowski was right about how clever technology was becoming. When Maria had been living inside his head she had seemed to become more and more capable every month as she upgraded herself automatically over the networks.

  Floyd listened again to the slow and measured warning the Humans First leader was delivering. There was a cold certainty to what the man was saying and Floyd knew that many in the world might agree with Makowski’s aims, even if his methods of pursuing them were criminal and merciless.

  ‘I am a qualified theoretical physicist,’ Makowski warned the world as the video rolled forward. ‘And as a physicist I will not hesitate to use extreme elemental force to ensure the supremacy of the human species.’

  Floyd saw the man draw a deep breath and the camera closed in more tightly on his drawn and serious face.

  ‘So that the American transhumans in government understand the precise nature of this final ultimatum, unless the legislation we demand is immediately announced and unless all transhuman political leaders then resign their office, volunteers from Humans First Direct Action will deploy weapons of mass destruction inside cities within the major technocratic nations. I repeat, the HFDA will deploy weapons of mass destruction.’

  Makowski was an unblinking as a portrait as he recited his demands. Mad as a hatter, Maria concluded.

  ‘These new weapons are derived from a weapons technology that was originally developed in a secret Pentagon defense programme called the Indiana Project,’ continued Makowski. ‘Demonstration weapons are already in place in both North America and Europe and we will not hesitate to use them. Announce the legislation and disband all the companies on our list immediately. You have thirty days to comply. If you do not, the weapons will be used.’

  The video froze.

  ‘Get me Fox,’ said Floyd.

  *

  June 13th 2047

  WHAT IS THE INDIANA PROJECT?

  by Peter Kraus, chief defense correspondent

  Defense analysts were today baffled by Alexander Makowski’s reference to a Pentagon defense program called “Project Indiana”. Sources in the Pentagon say that no such project exists, or has existed.

  A spokeswoman for the White House said, “The Government has no knowledge of any defense program with the code name Project Indiana.”

  President: “Mondomind Merely Saves Time.”

  by Julie Konstantine, chief political correspondent

  President Robert Brabazon reacted angrily today to the charge made by the Humans First Party that his use of a virtual assistant and a Mondomind interface turns him into a “transhuman cyborg.”

  “The use of virtual assistants is widespread throughout the developed world,’ President Brabazon said in a prepared statement today. “Politicians, business leaders, scientists, lawyers, doctors, teachers and many artists make full use of VAs and direct mental connection to the web. To suggest that such use make us any less human is ludicrous.”

  Six

  ‘Nicole, you gotta hear this,’ said Mike Ryan. It was late evening and they were in his office inside ATA headquarters at the end of a very long Saturday. Since the Las Vegas bombing and Makowski’s threat of far greater destruction to come the entire agency had been galvanized into frantic preventative action.

  The leader of Humans First had been taken at his word and the national alert status had been raised to red, it’s highest level. Searches for hidden weapons were being made in all major cities in America and Europe, but the searchers had no idea what they were looking for, nor where to look

  All day Nicole had been trying to find anyone in government departments who knew anything about a defence programme called the Indiana Project. She had drawn a blank everywhere; at Homeland, at the NSA, the CIA, the Pentagon, the Air Force and NASA. Nobody had heard of any project called Indiana and Carl had found nothing with that title in Mondomind nor any of the world’s other search engines and databases. She was coming to the conclusion that Alexander Makowski was bluffing, trying to frighten the public with talk of a new weapon of mass destruction.

  With a nod Ryan ordered his virtual assistant to replay the audio recording.

  ‘This is the White House. How may I direct your call?’

  ‘I want to speak to President Brabazon, personally.’

  ‘I’ll put you through to his reception, sir.’

  There was a click and then a silence. The White House was one of the very few institutions left that still used human telephone operators.

  ‘This was the man’s fourth call in a single morning,’ Mike Ryan told Nicole. ‘Now listen.’

  ‘Office of the President,’ answered a female voice with the controlled richness of a professional secretary. ‘How may I help you?’

  ‘I want to speak to President Brabazon, personally,’ insisted the querulous male voice. ‘On a subject of the utmost national security. I am Dr Craig Phelps of the Indiana Project team.’

  Bingo, said Carl in Nicole’s brain. She shot a glance of startled enquiry at her boss. He raised his eyebrows at her, then put a forefinger to his lips.

  ‘I’m sorry sir, the President is unable to accept general telephone calls,’ the female voice was saying crisply. ‘May I suggest you use the messaging facility on the
White House web site.’

  ‘Listen, I’ve seen what’s happened in Las Vegas – and that Humans First video,’ shouted Phelps. ‘Far worse things could happen if Makowski’s got hold of our Indiana technology! Tell him I’m calling about the Indiana Project, do you understand? Project Indiana. He’ll take my call if you tell him that.’

  ‘I’m very sorry sir,’ repeated the receptionist, now audibly growing cross. ‘The President is unavailable and is unable to take unsolicited phone calls. I believe we have spoken before and I have given you the same information a number of times.’

  ‘Here’s my number,’ said Phelps, reeling off a string of digits. ‘Tell him it’s about the Indiana Project.’

  ‘We already have your number, Dr Phelps,’ said the female voice firmly. ‘And I’ve already passed your message on to the relevant office. Good morning.’

  The receptionist hung up. Then, after a few moments, Craig Phelps also closed the connection.

  ‘That was two hours ago,’ explained Ryan.

  ‘Dr Craig Phelps is the name of a physicist who was at Stanford while Makowski was there,’ Nicole informed her boss with a sinking feeling in her stomach. ‘And Phelps once mentioned a black hole weapon to Professor Alain Nagourney, when he was a post-grad at Stanford twenty years ago. He is next on my list to interview.’

  ‘Shit!’ exclaimed Ryan with a savage shake of his head.

  ‘And if Phelps would mention a black hole weapon to his students, he would almost certainly brag about it to a fellow physics lecturer,’ added Nicole. ‘We have our link.’

  ‘Bring him in,’ ordered Ryan.

  *

  A youthful-looking President Robert Brabazon was seated behind his desk in the Oval Office, staring straight into the camera lens.

  ‘People of America,’ he began, the script delivered to his mind’s eye by one of his two implanted virtual assistants. ‘Once more, we have to renew our war on terror. We take seriously the threats the so-called Humans First Party has made recently and we are doing everything possible to protect our cities. I have also instructed our security forces and military to hunt down and bring to justice all those who threaten our safety and way of life. I know that our allies have issued similar instructions to their own security forces.’

  The camera closed in on Brabazon’s handsome, surgically enhanced and genetically rejuvenated face.

  ‘As of now the U.S. Justice Department is offering a reward of two hundred million dollars for information that will lead directly to the capture or the death of the criminal and murderer, Alexander Makowski. We will, of course, not be agreeing to any of the demands made by his organization. The United States never has, and never will, give in to terrorism.’

  *

  ‘What is your personal level of security clearance, young woman?’ demanded Dr Craig Phelps glowering up from his wheelchair.

  ‘The highest,’ Nicole Sanderson said simply as she put away her badge. ‘Our agency is charged with protecting the security of the United States.’

  She was visiting a retirement home in Naples, Florida to bring the former physicist to Washington. In case of need two uniformed cops from the local police force were waiting in the reception area.

  Phelps shook his head. ‘No it isn’t, Agent Sanderson,’ he said forcefully. ‘Your security clearance is far from being the highest. The only person I can talk to about the Indiana Project is the President himself!’

  ‘Look, you called the White House so many times that we did check with the President’s Office,’ said Nicole quietly. ‘We’ve also checked with the CIA, Homeland Security and the Pentagon. The Indiana Project doesn’t mean anything to anyone.’

  ‘But Alexander Makowski mentioned the technology himself.’

  ‘How well did you know Professor Makowski when he was at Stanford?’ asked the ATA agent sharply.

  Phelps looked away, then back up at his interrogator. ‘I knew him before he went crazy, but if you think I told him anything about Indiana you’re seriously mistaken.’

  Nicole stared down at the defiant old man. His medical file had revealed a long history of alcohol abuse and depression. He told him, asserted Carl. Bragging when he was drunk. But he probably wouldn’t even remember.

  ‘Does this mean anything to you?’ she asked, pulling from her bag a print-out of the equation the British had intercepted.

  Phelps glanced at the sheet of paper and Nicole saw the blood drain from his cheeks. He recognizes it alright, observed Carl.

  ‘How the hell did you get this?’ the retired physicist demanded glaring up at her

  ‘That was part of a message we intercepted, Dr Phelps, during electronic surveillance. Something that members of the HFDA were sending to each other. I am hoping you can identify what the equation referred to.’

  ‘When I saw Makowski’s broadcast I thought I’d better tell the President all I know about the Indiana Project. I’m not authorized to speak about it to anybody but the President himself – by a specific Presidential Order.’

  ‘Whose presidential order ?’ asked Nicole.

  ‘Gerald T. Weeks,’ Phelps told her. ‘The one who died in the plane crash that killed Mackowski’s family. He was the man who closed down the whole Project Indiana and he was the one who personally classified its entire history.’

  ‘But none of the agencies have ever heard of anything called Indiana,’ she objected. ‘None of the security agencies, not the White House and not the Pentagon. Did it ever have another name? Who was in charge? What was the project for?’

  Phelps shook his head. ‘I can’t tell you any more details about it. As I say, I can tell only the President himself. But take a look at DARPA’s black budgets between the years 2014 and 2025 – and the Pentagon’s. And while you’re at it, dig out some old maps of Arizona – pre 2025. You’ll see the Kinska Mountain range marked, only it isn’t there any more. Just a crater that you should go down and check out. It will surprise you.’

  *

  ‘Great job, Doc!’

  Harry Floyd stared at his new image in the wall mirror with mixed feelings. Gone was his own aquiline nose and in its place was a more squat, less well defined protuberance. The lower part of his forehead, his eyebrows and his eyelids had all been reshaped and smoothed and Floyd now saw the faintly resentful, glowering look that clung to the face of HFDA recruit Gary Tipton. Similarly he could see that his lips and chin had been reshaped. His top lip was now much thinner than before and he could see that there was a podgy, less-defined look to his chin and jaw bone. For a few moments Floyd felt a sharp stab of annoyed vanity at losing his good looks. He now looked a decade younger, but he was significantly less attractive.

  Stepping closer to the mirror, Floyd ran his fingertips along his new hairline and then examined closely the skin around his ears.

  ‘You shouldn’t be able to see any scarring at all,’ said the doctor, craning forward to check the patient’s skin himself. ‘This new gene-based rapid-healing treatment is quite amazing.’

  Floyd had spent most of his recovery period working out in the clinic’s gym to maintain his strength. He guessed he was going to need it once he got to Venezuela. All HFDA volunteers underwent basic training with the FARC rebel army. It was a good way of sorting out which would-be volunteers had the nerve and the physical abilities to undertake direct action missions.

  When he wasn’t working out he was practising karate moves and improving his Spanish pronunciation. Although Mondogirl Maria could automatically translate for him during the first part of his journey, he would necessarily be on his own once he meet up with the HFDA. One advantage was that the man he was planning to impersonate had also been in the early stages of learning Spanish.

  The real Gary Tipton was now being held in secure accommodation within the British embassy in Mexico City. His minor traffic accident wounds had been patched up and Floyd was able to watch his target eat, exercise and talk over a secure video link.

  On Floyd’s instruction, t
he interrogators had allowed Tipton to eat his meals during the questioning sessions – he was even allowed to specify his own choice of dishes – and to have access to the embassy’s interior exercise yard. Every move the hapless HFDA recruit made was videoed and, four thousand miles away, the man who was planning to assume his identity stood in his hospital room practicing Tipton’s arrogant loose swagger and rapid hand movements.

  In the hours when Tipton was sleeping Floyd read and re-read every scrap of information that had been gathered on the Humans First Party and the HFDA. Whole treatises had been written about how Alexander Makowski had turned to violence after his entire family had been killed. Other reports revealed how the direct action wing of the movement had won the backing and support of the FARC communist guerrillas in Venezuela. The introduction had been made by a group of drug-running Colombians resident in California. Makowski’s communist credentials and hatred of Western society – nations he described as ‘capitalist technocracies’ – had quickly won him the support of the FARC leaders. The rebels hated the Americans and their allies for the support they gave the repressive regime in Colombia and for their unceasing war on the cocaine trade.