by Mike Kraus
A smile briefly passed across Mark’s lips before he forced it back down. “I don’t know, mom. I don’t like this. I don’t like you going out and leaving again. It doesn’t seem safe.”
“I don’t like it either.” Dianne shrugged. “But we can’t just leave Tina out there. I would take all of you with us in the truck but there’s no way I’m letting your brother and sister get anywhere close to those people.”
“Were two of them really those guys from the grocery store?”
“Yep. So I want you to stay on your toes here. Keep the security cameras up at all times. Minimize the time spent outside. Keep the fires to a minimum, too. No loud noises, no engines except in an emergency. Above all, though, remember this: don’t hesitate to shoot. If you don’t know the people and they’re on our property then you need to shoot. If they do anything threatening, shoot. Don’t shoot to frighten, either. This isn’t a game or a movie where warning shots will scare them off.”
Mark gulped and Dianne squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry; you’ll do great. And I highly doubt anyone will be coming out here while we’re out scouting. It’s more likely that we’ll run into someone since… well, we’ll be looking for them.”
“I don’t really like the sound of that.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have Jason with me. He may not look it sometimes but that guy’s tougher than nails. If we get into a rough spot we’ll be fine.”
“Mrs. Statler seems pretty handy with a gun. Once you guys left she kept one on her till you got back. I don’t think she wanted to be seen holding one or something, at least by you guys.”
Dianne smiled. “Sarah’s a bit of an oddball, but she’ll take care of you all.” She stood up, carrying her coffee cup over to the sink and handing it to Jacob to wash. “Besides, it’s not like we’re going out for very long. We’ll leave in the morning and be back sometime after lunch or near dinner.”
“Hopefully.”
“Hey.” Dianne frowned. “Don’t be a pessimist. Have some faith, okay?”
Mark nodded and stood up from the table. Another thump came from upstairs along with more arguing. “Should I go see if they need some help up there?”
Dianne looked at the ceiling and shook her head. “Nah. They’re fine. They just need to get settled in.”
***
An hour later, after Mark, Jacob and Josie were sitting quietly in the living room reading, Sarah and Jason came downstairs, still having a friendly argument along the way. Dianne was sitting in the recliner in the living room watching out the back window with a tablet on her lap with the security cameras pulled up on it.
“Hey you two!” She smiled as Jason and Sarah walked in, poking at each other. “We heard you rattling around up there. You get settled in okay?”
Sarah nodded. “This bag of bones won’t cooperate. But yes, we’re good.” Sarah smiled at Jacob and Mark. “We appreciate you two letting us stay in your room.”
Mark nodded. “You’re welcome. Mom’s had us all in the same room since this started, though, so it’s no big deal.”
“Well we appreciate it regardless.” Jason chimed in before taking a seat on the floor. “So, D, you ready for tomorrow?”
“I think so. What time do you think we should leave?”
“Seven or so should be good. I’ll get the guns and ammo loaded up when I get up at six if you’ll take care of the food and water.”
“Sure thing. Let’s bring enough supplies to last for a couple days. We’re coming back by the evening but who knows what could happen out there.”
“Absolutely.”
“What are you two planning on doing, anyway?” Sarah looked at Jason and Dianne. “Just searching for these people or trying to rescue Tina or what?”
“Scouting is the primary goal.” Dianne replied. “We need to find out where they are, how many people are in their group and what kind of weapons and transportation they have. And we should probably figure out their general disposition. Maybe the ones we saw were… misunderstood?”
Jason chortled. “Please. Don’t give them that much credit.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Stranger things have happened, but it’s not likely.” Dianne’s smile faded. “I hope Tina and Dave are okay.”
“We’ll find out tomorrow, hopefully. If we can locate them.”
“What’s the plan for that again? Dianne got up and walked over to the kitchen table. Jason followed and the pair stood looking over a large map of the area that they had talked over earlier while making their plans for where to go.
“We should go west first. Head along the highway or the service road as much as possible. I’m betting they’re set up somewhere between Ellisville and Blacksburg. If not, though, then we should get to a high point—maybe the old water tower or radio tower—and keep watch for a few hours. If we see a vehicle we’ll try to follow them to see where they go.”
Dianne nodded. “Good. If we run into trouble we’ll head north and east and lose them in the back roads before swinging around and coming back here. Whatever we do we can’t let them know where we are.”
“You know, I was thinking about that.” Jason jerked his thumb in the direction of the fireplace. “I think I know why they haven’t found you from the smoke.”
“Why’s that?”
“The house is set down far enough and the lay of your land is such that most of it’s dissipated by the time it rises over the trees. The smell of the burning wood probably draws their attention sometimes but when they’re driving in the area they’d have a hard time seeing any smoke at all.”
“Huh. You’re probably right about that. Thank goodness for small favors.” She turned to Mark, who was listening in on the conversation. “I still don’t want any more fires than are necessary, okay? No sense in taking risks when we’ll be away.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and Dianne turned back to Jason.
“What else should we bring?”
“Couple of thick coats, extra pair of socks and shoes and a couple blankets in case we get stuck in the truck. Other than that, though, I think we’re good.”
“Which truck do you want to take? I think yours is probably a bit quieter.”
“Yeah, I think so. Let’s do that.”
Dianne clapped her hands together. “I think we’re set, then. We’ll head out first thing, scout and see if we can find these people and figure out what the situation is with the Carsons.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Chapter 6
Somewhere in Russia
The Russian President sits at the head of the conference table, idly playing with a cap from a bottle of water sitting in front of him. He barely listens as his military leaders drone on with justifications for why they believe a missile strike on the United States is a prudent course of action. He has already decided that a strike will do nothing but lead to further bloodshed but given the influence the military leaders have he must take a more diplomatic approach.
“Gentlemen.” After twenty minutes, when they finally finish speaking, he addresses them. “I appreciate your concerns. I share them. The fact of the matter is that we will gain nothing from this strike.” He holds up his hands to silence the initial vocal objections. “I have given you the courtesy of speaking uninterrupted. You will do me the same courtesy, yes?” The question isn’t a question at all, but a statement. Despite the heavy influence each of the leaders wields they are still subject to the whims of the man at the head of the table.
“Now. As I was saying.” He stands up and begins a slow walk around the table, brushing and nudging up against the chairs of the others as a way to ensure they recognize his authority. “I share your concerns. This weapon is nothing other than a doomsday device that was created to overthrow their enemies and ensure their fading empire would remain relevant in modern society. However, there are a number of problems with lobbing missiles across the globe.
“Chief among these problems is the fact that the USA is suffering far
worse than some countries. There is absolutely no sign that they have remained uninfected by the weapon or that they are using this release as some sort of cover. They are affected quite profoundly.”
“Who cares?!” A man with medals across half his chest shouts from down near the end of the table, pounding his fist on its surface. “We must strike at them now, before it’s too late! We have the advantage here! Fifty-two of our missiles still stand at the ready!”
“So we use them. What then? Who’s to say how many they have ready to send back? Or Germany. Or Israel. Or France. Or Britain. Or China, for that matter. Perhaps they would decide it’s time to add a bit of land to their collection.”
“So you want us to cower in fear?”
“Do you truly believe that?” The President’s tone is icy cold and full of menace.
“Of... of course not. Sir.”
“What I propose is simple. We watch and we wait. We still have an eye in the sky and we will use it to our advantage. We will sit, quietly, watching and gathering information until the time is right. Then—and only then—we will make our move.”
“And what will that move be?”
The President, having arrived back at his seat, places his hands on the chair. “The one most advantageous to ourselves.”
Chapter 7
Cheyenne Mountain Complex
Outside Colorado Springs, CO
It was after dinner the following day when Rick, Jane and Dr. Evans met up in the common room of the building where the three of them were staying. The day had been largely uneventful and Rick had managed to catch a couple hours of sleep before his curiosity got the better of him. After exploring the entirety of the building he was housed in—an exercise that turned out to be frightfully boring—he went back to his room until an alert sounded over the base’s intercom alerting everyone that it was time to eat.
Dinner was devoured in haste and once Rick and Jane finished they quickly headed back to the common room. Dr Evans arrived twenty minutes later and after walking inside he sealed the door by jamming a folding chair underneath the handle.
“Those bureaucratic fools!” Dr. Evans nearly shouted as he stalked over to a seat near Rick and Jane who looked at him with wide-eyed expressions.
“What’s the matter?” Jane asked. “Trying to get them to let you run some tests again?”
“It’s not even that!” Dr. Evans flopped down in the chair, his display of anger quickly dissipating as his expression turned from upset to exhausted. “It’s like they’ve all given up hope up there. They’re all just sitting around talking about survival probabilities.” He scoffed and shook his head. “What do they expect us to do? Hide in a cave and wait till the food and water runs out or the Russians decide to see if they can solve the problem with a few well-placed nukes?”
Rick snorted and nodded. “You’ve been talking to General Black, I take it?”
“He is, without a doubt, the most asinine excuse for a military leader I’ve ever seen in my life. And that’s saying something given how many I’ve worked alongside.”
Rick smiled. “I couldn’t agree more, Dr. Evans.”
Dr. Evans abruptly changed the subject as he pulled a satchel close to his side, cradling it like it was his own child. “Rick. You were asked to go to Mount Weather.”
“That’s right. We talked about that yesterday?”
“And you’re aware of what they were trying to do there.”
Rick leaned back in his chair and thought back to his meeting with Colonel Leslie. “Well, yeah. When I was at Nellis Air Force Base the commander there showed me a paper with a brief description of what was going on. It also described a think tank they were assembling at Mount Weather to try and combat the virus.”
“Damocles. Yes. I know it… quite well.”
“Are you one of the scientists working on finding a way of stopping it?”
Dr. Evans glanced at Jane with a slightly worried expression before answering Rick’s question. “I suppose. I was—well, I suppose I still am—better known as Dr. Howard Chu.”
Rick’s eyes narrowed as he tried to remember where he had heard the name before. “That sounds very familiar. I can’t quite place it, though.”
Dr. Evans nodded. “I’m not surprised. My false name was all over research papers and theories that were developed related to practical artificial applications, specifically with a focus on—”
“Distributed applications. Right?” Rick finished Dr. Evans’ sentence.
“Exactly. You heard of it?”
“You could say that. My teams referenced your work a lot when we were furthering our development on car-to-car communications. Your work influenced a lot of what we did.”
“So that’s why they wanted you at Mount Weather.” Dr. Evans rubbed his chin, his eyes lighting up as he realized what Rick’s area of expertise was.
“I don’t think so, no. I think it was because I was asking too many questions about what they were doing with their imaging setups in Las Vegas. They heard me use a few technical terms and figured they stick me on a plane to their think tank.”
“Little did they know that you were probably one of the best people to actually be on that think tank.” Dr. Evans shook his head. “What a small world.”
“I wouldn’t say the best but… yeah. I don’t know.”
Dr. Evans sat quietly for a moment before he continued. “So you know about my alter-ego’s work. That’s good. But that’s only half of it.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” Dr. Evans nervously picked at a seam on his satchel as he spoke. “I was one of the principle researchers who first developed what the government purchased and turned into Damocles.”
Rick raised an eyebrow. “You? You developed Damocles?”
“The concept of it, yes. That’s why I had to use a false identity. When the federal government found out what we were doing they bought us out lock, stock and barrel. We stayed on to help them develop it further for a year or two and then they let us all go to continue development in-house.”
Rick ran a hand over his hair and down the side of his face. “Damn. I’m impressed.”
“You shouldn’t be. My work was the genesis for this weapon and what’s happening today.”
“Boys?” Jane interrupted. “If you’re done being humble about your accomplishments you two might want to turn your attention toward something useful.” She looked at Dr. Evans. “You were telling me a couple days ago about some ideas you had for stopping Damocles. Maybe Rick here can help?”
Rick shrugged. “I’ll certainly try. I don’t think I’m necessarily the best but hey, if you want to bounce ideas off of me I’m all ears.”
Dr. Evans felt as though a weight was lifted off of his shoulders and he released his death grip on his satchel. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. Everyone I’ve talked to has either been a politician or a monkey with a gun and medals on their chest.” He opened his satchel and pulled out a stack of papers that he placed on the table in front of Rick, Jane and himself. “Give me a minute to get this organized and I’ll walk you through exactly what Damocles is, what it does and why all of the current attempts to stop it have failed.”
Rick snorted nervously and glanced at Jane and Dr. Evans. “That sounds… ominous.”
“Believe me, Rick, once you know what I know you’ll wonder why anyone’s still alive.”
***
“Damocles didn’t start out as Damocles.” Dr. Evans slid a few pieces of paper over toward Rick. “Before the feds bought us out we developed the idea of a mutagenic language through which different machines could talk to each other even if the base hardware and software was radically different. The idea was to make the ‘Internet of Things’ easier to develop for.”
Rick flipped through the papers. “A mutagenic language, eh? How would that work?”
“We’d have a very basic set of parameters through which the machines could talk to each other. Because the code was mutagenic
it could adapt to conform to whatever rigors were enforced by the system which it was on. So if you loaded it onto a smart refrigerator it would automatically figure out how to use the refrigerator’s networking commands to talk to a central server, for example.”
“That sounds incredibly useful. And also incredibly dangerous. How advanced was the mutagenic code?”
“Not very. Not at first, anyway.” Dr. Evans took off his glasses to clean them and massage the bridge of his nose. “We used learning algorithms to study the underlying structure of a few dozen different embedded operating systems to form basic rules that the code would follow. From there we let it learn on its own. By the time the feds kicked us out I think we were up to several hundred unique permutations of hardware and software combinations.”
“That’s a lot.” Rick shook his head. “But not nearly enough to cause this type of damage. Not when you’ve got military-grade hardened systems that are encrypted and protected against intrusion.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Dr. Evans flipped through his stack of papers until he found the folder he was looking for. “Before we got kicked out I was accidentally blind-carbon-copied on an internal email. The email was vague but it heavily implied that the NSA was absorbing our work. What they were doing with it I don’t know but it was... well, you can read it for yourself.”
Rick read through the pages in the folder, his eyes growing wide as he gently shook his head. “Wow. This is huge. But what’s this reference to an ‘internal learning matrix’ all about?”
Dr. Evans shrugged. “Hard to say for certain but based on how much they love collecting data I bet they have—well, had—some pretty wild learning algorithms.”
“Hey, guys?” Jane interrupted again. “Can I get some English words thrown in here and there?”
Dr. Evans looked over at Jane as Rick responded. “A learning algorithm would be like a computer that can learn from what it sees. You input data and it learns and adjusts itself based on that data.” Rick looked back at Dr. Evans. “The stuff we had in the private sector was truly wild. I shudder to imagine what the feds have had locked away.”
