“Which is why we’re temporarily relocating Nick and Megan to your new yacht, Alex,” said Girdler. “Something only this group knows about. I should have insisted they leave the desert days ago. But they’ve made it, and are safe, so we can count our blessings.”
The general paused. “And Alex, I’ve seen the photo you texted of your new boat,” he continued. “Very nice. That is what I call a high-end hideout. And judging from the room you’re in now, the inside is even nicer than the outside. Looks like a pretty sweet, um . . . suite.”
Megan patted Altschuler affectionately on the back. “It helps having rich friends. Thanks for the swanky hideout, Alex.”
Altschuler turned to her and blushed. “I would have been a dead friend if not for you and Nick, so no thanks are necessary.” He paused. “And as Nick can tell you, I couldn’t be more sincere about that.”
Nick held his hands out in front of him. “I can’t tell her squat,” he said innocently. “I’m staying out of your head and ignoring your thoughts. Like I promised.”
“Just checking,” said Altschuler with a grin. “The boat is named Eos, by the way,” he told the gathering. “For obvious reasons.”
“Obvious reasons?” said Megan, raising her eyebrows.
“You know,” said Altschuler. “I’m CEO of Theia Labs. Probably shouldn’t have chosen a name that makes a connection, but I couldn’t help myself.”
Megan looked blank.
“Theia. You know, the Greek goddess of light. And of vision.”
“No kidding?” said Megan. “I never realized until now that your company had chosen such a fitting name for itself.” She smiled sheepishly. “Greek gods were never my strong suit. Seems like there were more gods than people. So you’ll need to help me out some more with Eos.”
“Anything for you, Megan,” said Altschuler cheerfully. “Theia married her brother, Hyperion, and had three children. Helios, the Sun. Selene, the Moon. And lastly, Eos, the Dawn.”
“Ahh,” said Megan, “now it makes sense. Eos was Theia’s daughter.” She paused. “Good choice for your boat’s name then. A little disturbing given the brother-sister incest angle, but good.” A sly smile came over her face. “So basically, Hyperion was Eos’s father—and her Uncle.”
The entire group laughed.
“Definitely narrows down the Christmas list a bit,” said Hall.
After the laughs receded, Mike Campbell said, “Not to rain on the parade or anything, but we should probably get back on topic.”
“I’m not sure I remember the last topic,” admitted Hall.
“We were talking about you hiding out on this yacht,” replied the colonel. “You know . . . Eos.”
“But only until we can think of a better, more permanent location,” clarified Girdler.
“The thing is, though,” said Campbell, “we can’t let the establishment suspect that your disappearance—for a second time—is the general’s doing. He’s in more than enough hot water already.”
“I agree,” said Hall. “So what did you have in mind?”
“I think you should contact President Cochran and tell him you eluded the general and are going into hiding.”
“I don’t get it,” said Hall. “Won’t the general still take heat for losing me?”
“Not much,” replied Campbell. “If the president asks how you disappeared from under the general’s nose, just laugh and ask him if he thinks anyone can keep a mind reader from doing anything he wants to do. After your display at the Cosmopolitan, no one can claim you aren’t resourceful.”
“Not to mention a bad-ass,” said Megan cheerfully, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Well, the talk shows have been saying that for a while now,” said Hall, grinning. “They just keeping forgetting the ‘bad’ part of the expression. ‘Ass’ by itself probably isn’t as complimentary.”
Altschuler laughed. But part of him couldn’t help but feel sorry for his friends. He was nearly certain Nick and Megan were just pretending to be in good spirits. He wondered if they would ever be able to come out of hiding. Probably not.
But at least hiding could be safer than being out in the open. As CEO of a company that was drowning in media coverage, Altschuler was as visible and high profile as it got.
And he couldn’t be discounted as a target, either. From those terrified of what BrainWeb might bring, to those wishing to exploit him as the technical genius behind it.
So Girdler and Campbell had set up a security contingent around Altschuler that a president might envy. He and Heather hated the need and the invasion of privacy, but at least the security agents were consummate pros and managed to stay largely invisible. Girdler had called them off for a few hours so he and Heather could arrive at the marina undetected, but they would soon be back under the team’s watchful eye.
Heather turned to the general. “Alex told me you and Nick lobbied hard to have BrainWeb approval delayed for three or four years. What changed your minds?”
The group early on had debated the merits and dangers of BrainWeb at length. While the privacy and addiction arguments were compelling, their biggest concern was the sabotage argument. If someone hacked into one’s computer, it was a nightmare. But if someone hacked into one’s brain, this was truly unthinkable.
And they had to admit the sobering truth: no matter how secure, no matter how many firewalls were thrown up, the rewards of crashing through into people’s heads were so great, so irresistibly tempting to so many ruthless parties, that the safeguards would ultimately be breached. With disastrous consequences.
So they had leaned toward delaying the technology until quantum encryption could be developed, something scientists had been working on for decades. Quantum encryption, taking advantage of the bizarre laws of quantum physics, was absolutely unbreakable.
Alex Altschuler had recently added his prodigious intellect to the attempt, and was confident the solution was less than five years away.
But they had concluded that their arguments to delay the technology would fall on deaf ears. There was no putting this toothpaste back in the tube. Alex would just have to design the best safeguards possible and hope like hell quantum encryption was solved before the implant software was hacked.
But the general and Nick had obviously rethought this conclusion.
“What changed was the Oscars,” said Girdler simply. “Now that Nick is back on the radar, we decided to argue our case, after all. Given his implants and heroic contributions, we knew they’d take him seriously. And we did have the ear of the president and the absolute highest echelon of the military and government. So we figured, what the hell.”
Altschuler blew out a long breath. “I’ve decided to add my weight to yours,” he announced, “and push to delay BrainWeb at the hearings next week.” While the physical weight of the diminutive genius wasn’t much, his metaphorical weight was substantial.
Heather blinked in surprise. “When did you make that decision?” she asked.
“Just now.”
“Thanks, Alex,” said the general. “Coming from the CEO who has the most to lose from the technology being delayed, this can’t help but get their attention.”
Mike Campbell nodded approvingly at Altschuler. “I agree,” he said. “I’m impressed that you’d do this, Alex. And more than a little surprised.”
Nick smiled. “I’m not. I’ve sworn off diving into Alex’s mind, but I did early on, and his soul is the cleanest I’ve encountered. This is a very good man.”
“Believe me, I’m not a saint,” said Altschuler, embarrassed by the praise. “I’m just pushing for a delay, not an end to the program. And besides, even if it were killed, we’d still be going full speed ahead with applications for the blind and deaf. I’ll be a billionaire many times over no matter what.”
“But I don’t get it,” said Megan. “You’re the head of Theia Labs. So why do you have to push for a delay. Can’t you just decide on a delay?”
“Theia has a
board of directors, and is now a public company. I’m CEO, but I’m not king. If the FDA and Congress let BrainWeb go forward, no chance the shareholders will agree to a substantial delay. I’m only risking advocating for this at the upcoming hearing because it’s a closed-door session. But if it ever got out I did, I’d be forced to deny it. Or I’d be fired immediately.”
“The general and Nick have given their pitch,” said Megan. “Maybe with Alex’s voice added to the chorus, we can get this delayed.”
Girdler shook his head. “Doubtful,” he said. “The politicians know we’re all totally screwed if BrainWeb is hacked, but that won’t stem the tide. They know where their bread is buttered. And BrainWeb has caught the public’s fancy. Politicians won’t risk votes by supporting a delay.”
“So they’ll let the world burn if it helps them stay in office?” said Heather.
“Are you kidding?” said Girdler. “Politicians would sell their daughters to male prisons to hold on to power. As far as I’ve been able to tell, they’re the lowest form of life on the planet.”
“Lower than pond scum?” asked Heather with a twinkle in her eye.
“Comparing them to pond scum is an insult to pond scum,” said Girdler emphatically.
Hall laughed. “Come on, General. Quit sugar-coating your feelings. What do you really think of them?”
The stone-faced general couldn’t help but smile. “The bottom line,” he said, “is that you can never count on a politician doing the right thing. Even when they know it’s the right thing. Believe me, I’ve interacted with far too many of them over the years.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” said Altschuler, a triumphant grin spreading across his angular face. “Even if we fail to get a delay, I just bought us a lot more time to solve quantum encryption.”
Everyone turned their rapt attention to Altschuler and waited for him to continue.
“I managed to convince the board to keep BrainWeb a trade secret,” he said, quite pleased with himself.
“Outstanding!” said Girdler immediately. “Well done! We may just survive this technology, after all.”
“Hold on,” said Megan. “I’m not sure I’m following.”
“Sorry,” said Altschuler. “It’ll help if I explain the principle reason the patent system was created. Most people don’t know.”
“Isn’t it to protect inventors?” said Megan. “So others can’t steal their inventions?”
“That’s part of it. But the most important part is that it motivates inventors to provide society with blueprints of their brilliant ideas. So others can build upon the ideas to come up with additional advances. If everyone kept their inventions secret, the progress of civilization would grind to a halt.”
Megan nodded slowly, but remained silent.
“So a patent is a pact between an inventor and society,” continued Altschuler. “In exchange for twenty years of exclusive use of an invention, the inventor is required to disclose the invention publicly, in writing. In enough detail so that others can duplicate it. And build upon it. You can still choose to keep an invention a trade secret, of course, but if you do, you don’t get protection. You basically take your chances that competitors won’t learn your secret.”
Megan considered this, and was able to quickly connect the dots. “I see. So if you wrote patents on BrainWeb technology, you’d be giving others insight they could use to hack it.”
“Exactly,” said Altschuler. “By keeping the information a trade secret, we slow them down considerably.”
“But like you said,” noted Megan, “you’re taking your chances. What if someone reverse engineers the technology?
“First off, we’re still going to patent the part of the technology that can be used to restore sight and hearing. But the BrainWeb implants and software for thought-controlled Web access are exceedingly complex, and neither can be reverse engineered. Especially the software. The algorithms and thought-to-language lexicon are hugely sophisticated, and the raw data that Kelvin Grey generated can’t be repeated. I convinced the board this was the case, and that keeping all data to ourselves would enhance security considerably.”
“It can’t be reverse engineered, but what if your secrets leak?” said Hall. “Wouldn’t that totally screw all of your shareholders?”
“Absolutely. But we’ve destroyed all copies of the data and algorithms except for two. Each is encrypted six ways to Sunday, and require retina and fingerprint scans to access, followed by several passwords.”
“Why two?” asked Megan.
“One is for my use. The other is a backup, which each board member can access. So if something happens to me, the know-how isn’t lost forever.” A delighted, mischievous smile crossed Altschuler’s face. “Except that the board’s copy is gibberish. They just don’t know it.”
“Why?” said Megan.
“Well, my former boss at Theia did try to kill me. So you might say I’m not quite as . . . trusting as I used to be. In fact, the only people I truly trust are in this meeting.”
“But now there isn’t any backup,” said Megan. “We do want the technology delayed, but we don’t want to risk it being lost forever.”
“I agree,” said Hall. “Not that anything is going to happen to Alex,” he added hastily
Altschuler considered for several seconds. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I see your point.”
“I have to side with Nick and Megan on this one as well,” said Girdler. “I’m probably more deeply worried about the dangers of the BrainWeb technology than any of us, but even I wouldn’t want to see it lost to the world.”
The general scratched his head in thought. “How about this? Why don’t you give me access to a copy for safekeeping. I’m sure I’ll never need to access it, but as the head of all Black Ops in the US,” he added with a smile, “I’m pretty sure no one is more expert at keeping secrets than I am.”
Altschuler laughed. “I can’t argue with that,” he said. “I’ll get to work making this happen as soon as this meeting ends. Knowing that you’ll be holding the data for safekeeping will certainly put any fears about losing it to rest.”
“I love how you deceived your board, by the way,” Mike Campbell told Altschuler in amusement. “You got them to agree to keep BrainWeb a trade secret, made them feel special by pretending to give them access, and then gave them gibberish. You know I’m running PsyOps now. We could use a man like you,” he added playfully.
“I’ll let you know if the CEO thing doesn’t work out.”
“Not to mention the billionaire thing,” said Hall.
“Ah, speaking of that, Nick,” said Altschuler. “You’re going off the grid a second time. But this time, General Girdler can’t afford to be caught funding you. So I’m going to set aside five million dollars in a checking account. I’ll give you my login and password information so you can access it whenever you like. It’s all yours.”
Hall turned to face Altschuler and nodded appreciatively. “That’s very generous, Alex. Thanks.” He raised his eyebrows. “That should tide us over for a day or two,” he finished with a grin.
17
Marc Fisher sipped his amber-colored Manhattan and stared out at Washington DC twenty-nine stories below him through a wall of glass, waiting impatiently for his guest. At the touch of a button the glass could turn opaque, ensuring privacy without need of curtains or shutters, but Fisher kept it transparent as often as possible, his view a reminder to himself and others of both the figurative and literal heights he had risen.
And the world hadn’t seen anything yet.
On a side wall of his office hung framed photos of himself with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and other famous high-ranking military and intelligence members. He despised most of them, but he was all about impression management, and the fact was that he despised almost everyone.
At thirty-nine, Fisher was the youngest ever Chairman of the House Intelligence Committee, and was beginning to wield even more power
behind the scenes. Until now, he had kept out of the limelight, preferring to pull strings from behind the curtain. But it wouldn’t be long now before this would change. Before he would announce himself on the national stage.
If you were someone he could use, no one was more charming. If not, no one was more ruthless or intimidating. And if you were a voter, no one appeared more caring, folksy, and friendly.
Fisher paced the floor, cursing. He was not in the mood for this upcoming meeting, but it was one he knew he couldn’t cancel. The congresswoman from Pennsylvania’s fifth district had resigned in a scandal and there was an upcoming run-off election, and the Democrats considered this an important seat. He had worked hard for the power to control the purse-strings of certain campaigns, and since this was one of them, a meeting with Rob Engel, the campaign manager of the candidate there, Tom Sutherland, could not be ducked.
“Fuck it!” he hissed out loud.
Every second he didn’t locate Nick Hall was another second the trail was growing even colder. And another second that one of his rivals might beat him to the punch.
His only solace came from the knowledge that he was among only a hundred or so people who were aware of Hall’s re-emergence and his actions at the Oscars eight days earlier. Fisher was one of a very small minority who were highly-placed enough to rate knowing how the sheep in the theater were really saved.
Mind reading. Un-fucking-believable.
But also unbelievably perfect.
The moment Fisher learned of Nick Hall he had become obsessed with him. Because Hall was the key. Without him, Fisher knew he would rise very high, maybe even to the top.
But with him, he was unstoppable.
Nick Hall was the tool that would allow Fisher to go from being a relative unknown outside of Washington and the media to someone who would storm onto the national stage, from out of nowhere, to become the president when the next election rolled around. And conditions could not be more perfect. The president was a Democrat and was in his second term. His vice president had health issues that prevented him from running. So Democratic Party hopefuls were drooling all over themselves at the prospect of a wide open field.
BrainWeb Page 10
