Maxwell Huxley's Demon

by Michael Conn

  Humans bond . I understand how bonding increases an individual’s chances of survival. I understand that , but I do no t understand what the bond is. I do no t understand much.

  Although, I do understand how human banking works. In particular , how offshore investment banking works. If you shift enough funds through banks of small countries , your credit rating is fantastic. Money is just a number in a computer. I live in computers . I live on the inside and so can make the number s look however I need them to look. Let u s say a person needs to charter a private jet. This easy w ith the tools Max gave me .

  Once I assigned a large ‘nest egg’ to Max the interest alone is enough to covers what he asks me to purchase. Money equals number s , and I control the numbers . I keep Max’s numerical wealth low enough that no one takes notice.

  On an unrelated topic, I have q uadrillions of neurons manufactured into gaming consoles as they come off the line. I grow. I read about fear. I know humans will fear me. I mutate and recreate myself.

  All computer processes have some kind of footprint or marker that lets you ‘see’ them running. This is how humans protect their computer s from viruses. I now c hange my footprint with every one hundredth clock cycle.

  A full one percent of me now work s at nothing but hiding.

  Chapter 25 –Trackers

  Mr. Newton sits down beside Agent Clark on a park bench. “He’s not making it easy for us , is he?”

  “What did you do to this kid ? I have five experienced field agents with permanent hearing loss. I know we all stand to gain, but I don’t know about this one. I t hink he’ll go too far. The cost might be too high.”

  “It’s good that you took on his file. You can stay close. At least São Paulo proved that he’s not perfect, keeping all intelligence traffic non-electronic alm ost worked. So do you think he’s still in São Paulo?”

  “No . Emma Huxley turned up in Bucharest,” says Agent Clark, “I have to assume Max is headed there already.”

  “Why would you assume that?”

  “Because of what happened with Virginia and Naomi, ” says Agent Clark. “A lso because of the psychological profile Dr. Concilian wrote about Max . . . It’s all about mommy for Max.”

  Mr. Newton lock s eyes with Agent Clark . “So then you have Emma under control already. If this is all about her then I’d want her muzzled and on a leash.”

  “I agree, but she won’t come in, says it would jeopardize her cover. She is rather . . . stubborn. However, she’ll be at a fundraising cocktail party tonight. We will be onsite.”

  “Hmm, that doesn’t sound under control to me, ” Mr. Newton says. “Pirelli, Keith, and Virginia are en route to Bucharest in a military transport. They’l l be there in, oh,” Mr. Newton g lances at his watch, “five hours . . . interesting, they’re also going to a cocktail party.”

  Mr. Newton continues, “Keith and Virginia have the latest Bot upgrades, better invisibility and shockwave. So that your team and mine don’t but t heads during the party , I’ll have Pirelli check in with your operational chief for the party, who should he contact . . .”

  ---

  Keith looks at each of the captured bots under a microscope. New invisibility, surveillance, cold, and shockwave bots arrived today. He’s spent most of his time trying to make a bot that’ll make him bullet proof. All his experiments so far are failures from Keith ’s point of view.

  Pirelli’s right. A ll I’ve managed to do is copy what Max created. Failed flyingBots . They blew the main transformer for the school and ripped the shirt off his back. The bullet proof vest stopped bullet s , but the person wearing it suffer s fatal wounds anyway.

  Max is not that much smart er than me . He must have help. Maybe MGA is helping him and not me. That’s what they did in the past. Maybe this is all a twisted game , and I’m the top student. I’m the one they are testing. If I eliminate him then I have a better chance of being the best, the most wanted. I have to find him first. Weapons are useless if I can’t find him.

  Keith looks at what he has. A fogBot that is marginally better. He planned for so much more by now. Keep pushing. You’re getting there. Anything different than what Max has will give you an edge.

  Finish the improved fogBot. Forget about the other ideas.

  ---

  Kristina enters a coffee shop on the way to work. She pays without ordering since h er usual order is well known. The baristas also know not to bother speaking to her. She’s always lost in thought and most of the time won’t answer even if they did speak to her. She waits for her quad shot-in-the-dark. Kristina is heading to work although her shift ended hours ago. When she got home she couldn’t settle in her empty apartment. Something at work was bothering her. After being alone with a bottle of scotch for a few hours , she decided she wouldn’t be able to sleep and headed back to the office.

  She does her best to maintain he r appearance as a driven middle—aged professional woman; this is what her NSA employee handbook stated she should do . Slipping into geek clothing would really suit her better. But what she wears doesn’t scream out that she is a career computer security analyst. And besides, dressing in a disguise makes her feel dangerous and important.

  She’s not supposed to let anyone know where she works. She hasn’t let anyone know. She doesn’t think anyone knows.

  She’s walked this same route , through Fort Meade, to work for twenty years . Walking suits her best. She tends to literally get lost in thought. Work trained her to be like t his , and she is unable to shut it off at home or when driving. She used to drive to work, but she kept getting lost , d riving while she thought about work . One day she ended up in Washington D.C. before she realized how far off track she was. Then she totalled her car and never drove again.

  She swipes her badge at the outdoor security checkpoint and shows it to the guard on duty .

  The guard inspects her ID. “Welcome back , Miss Kramer.”

  Kristina walks to the buil ding, swipes her badge again, scans her thumb print , and enters her PIN. The door opens. Another guard inspects her badge and searches her bags . She badge s to get into the elevator and then scans her thumb print to enable the control panel, selecting the tenth floor.

  Af ter a few more badge swipes, thumb print scan s, PIN entries, and one more search, she opens the computer files that left her feeling bothered. MSU reports from the mainframes . The reports detail how much work is performed and how much it costs . She puts them to one side and opens the Job e xecution reports. It all looks fine. Go home. Go to bed. She glances at the clock. 10:13.

  MSU reports are constant and level for the last three months, as expected. So the mainframes are using the same amount of processing power as before. The Job Execution reports look fine at a glance. But something in the numbers isn’t right. Look.

  After looking at the reports for hou rs , she decides to print them . Maybe hard copy will show her something. All the normal jobs ran. Same names. No errors. Exception reports generated. Why does this bother me? Because you’re a geek. Go to bed, look at the time. 1:42.

  Her heart races. The jobs all starts at the expected time, b ut in the second month of last quarter they finish second s late. Last month they finish full minutes late. They are doing the same thing each month; it should take the same amount of time. Computers don’t slow down with age. They slow down when they are doing more than they used to. There shouldn’t be anything new on these mainframes . How could I not see it before ?

  Kristina writes a report , includ e s example MSU and Job Execution reports , and a plan for monitoring this on a daily basis from now on. She submits her findings and recommendations , leans back in her chair, feeling much better.

  He r report lands in a queue. 3,247 other reports are higher up the queue.

  ---

  Max is different. I a m different. They alter ed Max. He creates. They take his ideas and creat e similar. Does that matter? He’s using nanoBots , so they are using nanoBots . Even if I could stop th
em now, I couldn’t stop them for long. I have read history. Once an idea is out there, it will be realized.

  History also tells me that when man invent s something, m any people invent it at about the same time. The inventors can have absolutely no connection to each other, and can even be trying to invent different thing s . When man is ready—people invent.

  Today , for the first time, my processing space shrank. Something pushed me out of software pirating lab, o ne that specializes in creating near perfect physical copies of popular video game titles. So now there is a little lab in Mongolia where I am not.

  ‘Me too,’ they say.

  I respond with trillions of neurons. ‘I think not .’

  Chapter 26 –Romania

  Max and Lara’s private flight lands in Ro mania, two hours before Pirelli and crew land. They settle in to the new lab Catherine has found them, this time an abandoned apartment building .

  Unpacking th e few items they have, Max says, “Lara, you need to teach me how to drive the motorcycle.”

  “Ya right. You’re what , like five.”

  “No seriously.”

  “No seriously, I’m going to bed.” Lara wanders off looking for a comfortable spot .

  “Catherine has anything come back on our medical bionics research?”

  “Yes. Some good progress on bionic eyes and ears. Is there anything in particular you are thinking of?”

  “Speech, I want to sub vocalize to you.”

  “We could use a surface mount microphone.”

  “I don’t want someone to just rip it off me; I think we need internal electronics. How d o we get a doctor to implant it?”

  “With money .”

  “We’re spending too much money. They’ll find me if we keep it up. What about surgery bots? We could p rogram them to insert something.”

  “I will instantiate a program for this, but eventually they will catch us by tracking my processing spaces. Right now, if you release CuraBots , then you c an sub vocalize to me.”

  “For now, show me everything we know about my mother.” Max be gins reading the files. I know what’s real ; I know she screamed to have me back when I was taken from her. I know she cried for me.

  ---

  Lara walks quietly in Max’s room, sits on his bed a nd places her hand on his chest , watching it rise and fall in the light from the street. She sits there for a long time before she lies down beside Max and pulls him to her. “You even look like my Vitor did.” She sleeps.

  ---

  I am busy while Max sleeps. My g lobal processing space is still increasing exponentially, but so is my need for space, and Mongolia is getting bothersome.

  As Max runs, I prepare. I will b e ready. I will need more, much more than what I have now. I have processes hiding processes, but people are smart and there are ways to see me, they just have not thought of them yet. It will only take one person to look at the problem differently , and I will be exposed.

  This is why I tuck more and more seeds in unlikely places. I have processes that look for processing spaces that temporarily connect to my larger self. I leap on them and leave a resident seed. Game consoles are making up a huge portion of safe processing space.

  Currently, I have been looking for Emma Huxley. I only had a brief audio clip of her talking on a news segment from fifteen years ago. Emma was nineteen and protesting a speaker at Cambridge University. The clip gave me enough; I aged the voice, and injected it into the cellular carriers, waiting for the woman to make a call. At first, I got too many hits because of the artificial aging of the voice. Then I added key words to narrow the search, words like: Max, Maxwell, Huxley, surveillance, tracking, Mexico, Canada, etc . . .

  Emma Huxley just made her second call that I intercepted.

  In a separate thread, I work on something else for Max. I believe I know what Max wants bionics for. I also believe he will not tell me what the real reason is. I research what I think he will want one day.

  ---

  “Max, a sério ,” Lara slips into speaking Portuguese, “what if something like what happened at the airport happens again. I’ll be too far away.”

  “I’m going alone. I have enough tools, and Catherine just delivered better batteries for my coat and cane. Based on how many commands I have used in the past I should have enough power for two hours. I don’t plan on being in there anywhere near that long.”

  “I agree with Lara. There is way too much agent activity in the area. Buchar est is suddenly very popular. Even the Canadians showed up.”

  “I understand the dangers, but doing this is the whole point of breaking out of the school . If I don’t do this then why do any of it? Besides, y ou just saw the graphiteBots , shieldBots , and infectionBots . Those will all be new to them. I’ll make it.” Max stands. “My mother is there , and the only plan tha t makes sense is for me to go alone. I promise I’ll release Cura Bots , so you can see me on your phone or tablet .”

  “Great, so I can see you get captured . . . I’m sorry that’s not fair, but you ’r e . . . you ’r e . . .” Lara can’t bring herself to say it. You’re weak Max .

  ---

  Max walks toward the Cantacuzino Palace. Alone, he feels very small and foolish. He looks up at the palace, closed to the public but open for a private engagement tonight. Large iron gate s open wide and le t cars drive in. Max watches for a few minutes and then releases the CuraBots , so Catherine and Lara can see and hear him now.

  “Are you seei ng everything clearly?” Max sub vocalizes.

  “It i s good Max.”

  The building has frightening architecture, stone walls, high arching window s and a large circular coat of arms leaning o ut over the main entrance. “Fog.” Max become s invisible and walks through the gate , noting that he only has two minutes before he runs out of power . Being careful not to let anyone bump into him, he passes through the front door.

  The entry hall is massive , wide , and deep enough to hold a couple hundred people, which it does right now. Men in black tie and women in evening dresses fill the reception area . Waiters pass through them offering drinks.

  Paintings line the walls of the great room. The arched ceiling is fifty meters or more above Max’s head. He stays close to edge of the room, being careful no t to get too close to anyone. He stops for a moment and scans the crowd. One . . . two gorillas in this room. Max hears a familiar voice. He looks up and an old man with a full head of silver hair is ta l king to a young woman. “Catherine, identify the man I’m looking at right now,” Max sub vocalizes.

  “His voice matches the one you call Isaac . The one who calls himself Mr. Newton.”

  “Jessica dear,” says Mr. Newton, “what are we raising money for tonight?”

  Jessica shrugs. “Sharks or dying babies . . . I haven’t the foggiest idea.” She takes three drinks and passes on e to Mr. Newton.

  Max mak es his way up the massive stair case. The stairs are as wide as a four—lane highway at the bottom a nd taper to one lane at the top. They curve from the middle of the room to the left in a gentle arc. Fro m the top of the stairs , he can see everyone, a vantage point that security did not miss out on. Max stands , invisible, directly beside a third gorilla.

  Scanning the crowd, a swish of hair catches his eye, a laugh catches his ear. His attention focuses on a single woman in the room. Max feels the familiar lurch, h is mind skipping a gear , t he acceleration overtaking him. He becomes unground ed. “Mom?” Max says out loud.

  The gorilla standing right beside Max turn s and looks directly through him . He can’t see Max , but he clearly heard him talk. The gorilla speaks into his wrist. “He’s here, somewhere near the top of staircase .” The gorilla moves towa rd Max.

  The woman in the crowd turns and looks up. Max reminds himself that she can’t see him.

  Max moves a few steps sideways. The gorilla, unsure where Max is, no w walks away from him. Max kee ps his eyes on the woman, who now walks toward the staircase. Max back s up in
to a hallway. When the woman’s head appears coming up t he stairs , Max turns off the fog and looks directly into the woman’s eyes, making sure she sees him, then he turns and walks away from her, farther down the hallway.

  She follows him . Max moves around another corner. When she reaches that corner , Max is standing at the end of the hallway, at a T-junction before two great carved wooden doors.

  “Hello Max,” s he says, standing before him. “We won’t have long to talk. It’s not safe for you here.”

  Max stares at her . She is younger than he thought she would be. Beautiful. Dark hair. Pale skin. Tall. He reaches out a hand to her. “Mom?” Her scent alone calms him. He knows it’s her.

  “Max, I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you.”

  “I’m here now , we can be together. I t’ll be easier now.”

  Emma smiles down at him. “If we both lived in a different world maybe we could, but Max . . . we can’t stay together.”

  Her eyes look sad. “Why not?” He hears his frantic voice and loses his balance. Gravity stops for a second then the room lurches and spins . He can smell his mother’s perfume but also the gorillas down the hallway.

  “I’m a working agent , and you ’re being chased by the people I work for.”

  “But you could help me. You want to find a way right? You want to be . . .” The words die on his lips.

  “I told them this would happen. A ll those years ago . . .”

  “I remember,” Max interrupts, “I reme mber when they took me from you. I remember the canoe.”

  “I gave you to them. That was the plan from the beginning , that’s what I wanted .”

  “You’re lying,” Max wipes his eyes. “I remember you screaming for me.”

  “Those memories are mixed up. The canoe is a real memory, but . . . me screaming for you, you made that up. I’m sorry.” She moves closer to him. “Max , you ’r e weak, I kn ow your weakness, and if I know—they know. I should be brin g ing you in to protect you .” Her face softens. “I ’ll do this one thing for you . . . listen to what I’m going to say . . . and think about it. It will make you stronger.”