Wanda

by carl smothers

  “There’s no way we would want to create a gynoid with this capability. The ethical and moral ramifications are just too great to even consider,” Stills said adamantly.

  “I agree, Tom,” Jerry said. “By the way, you haven’t mentioned anything about software or programming.”

  “The contract prohibits us from incorporating any software what so ever except a simple boot strap program and the coding of that is specified,” Charlie replied. “The contract documentation doesn’t have anything on pattern recognition, voice or audio processing, data base processing, inference, thinking or computing algorithms. I can only imagine the power and technological advancements that the creator has in mind for the intellectual assets of this gynoid.”

  “Well that takes a lot of risk out of the contract,” Stills remarked.

  Jenifer Thomas, their corporate lawyer, had sat through the meeting and not said a word.

  “What’s your take on these contracts, Jenifer?”

  Jenifer straightened up in her chair. Her normally cool and calculating eyes were blazing with excitement. “Jerry, I’ve reviewed the proposed contract, patent disclosures and filing status of same. The person who wrote this contract and the methodology of the patent disclosure process was nothing short of brilliant. There are no loopholes or any way to get around any of the 600 patents. They are offering us unlimited use of the patents and only want small royalty payments. In my opinion, this is a legal theft. I think we’d be crazy to turn this down.”

  Tom stood up and faced the group. “I agree with Jenifer. I think we should sign this contract immediately. Charlie, in your opinion, can we build this gynoid to the exact system specifications and drawings within the time period required?”

  “Yes, Tom, but it will require most of our engineering and manufacturing resources. Production of all other new orders will be shut down for six months at least, unless we expand the company.”

  “Again I ask. Charlie, can we meet 100 percent of the specifications without request for waiver or deviation of any kind and deliver on schedule?”

  “Yes.”

  Jerry sat there for a moment to collect his thoughts. He still couldn’t believe the phenomenal opportunity that had been given to them. “Guys, this technology is so important we have to accept this contract. We’ll set up a new Advanced Research Division totally dedicated to this program, and spin off the technology to our other product lines as well as fueling new product development. If we get this right, Robotics 2 will virtually own the robotic market. This is a multibillion dollar present,” Jerry said shaking his head in disbelief.

  Tom looked at Jerry and the two of them came to a non-verbal agreement to proceed.

  “Okay, Jenifer, bring the contracts to my office as quickly as you can get them ready for signature — we do have a timeline. I want this new division set up as soon as possible,” Jerry said. This has to be our top priority.

  “Boss, we’re going to need quite a few new people in all departments to staff up for this,” Taylor remarked.

  “I fully understand, Charlie. I’ll instruct HR to prioritize new hiring to fill the void of personnel shifted over to the new contract. We will meet all of the requirements of this contract without exception, regardless of the cost. Charlie you will be our new vice president and division manager and act as the program manager” Jerry said.

  Jenifer smiled. “Great decision, boss. This is going to make our company very rich.”

  Jerry just smiled knowingly. I don’t know the inventor, but he or she has just made my day, or year maybe, he thought. What a break!

  ~~

  When Jennifer got back to her office, she couldn’t get the idea of android reproduction out of her mind, so she pulled up the patents file and sat pondering the fortune her company had bypassed. I think the company is crazy not to pursue these patents. They have to be worth billions. Growing babies then harvesting the organs and stem cells must be a multibillion-dollar market alone. I may have to wait sixteen years, but I bet a Middle Eastern sheik would be just the venture capitalist I’m looking for.

  Chapter 17

  Anwar, Pakistan

  The dirty, dark, smelly alley provided little cover for Yasaid. It was hotter than Hades. His clothes were wet and the sweat trickled down, burning his eyes making it hard to see. The sewer rats frantically ran over his shoes. It repulsed him, but there wasn’t much he could do. He had killed five of his attackers. Their blood and brains oozed out in the alleyway, crazing the rats. The fight was almost over; he was out of ammunition so very soon the rats would start eating his flesh.

  Bullets ricocheted off the wall behind him, dislodging concrete chips that flew out and stuck in his skin. It hurt like hell. He bit his lip to prevent crying out. Strangely enough, he felt a sense of calm underneath the adrenalin flow surging through his body. There was no escape path left. It was all over.

  The remaining two SWG soldiers approached, and when they saw him, they raised their full auto AKM-57’s. The hate on their faces changed to menacing smirks. Time seemed to stand still. Just as they pulled the triggers, he flinched … a loud ringing noise!

  “What in the hell?” His eyes burned from the sweat. He was confused, scared and angry. “Allah be blessed … not again!” Thankfully, the ring plucked him from that horrible recurring nightmare. This time, he escaped the pain of their bullets.

  He picked up the phone and yelled, “What is so important that you would call me this early? I can’t talk now. Call again in two hours!”

  “Where will you be?”

  “At my office,” he replied.

  The man hung up.

  Holy shit, I can’t seem to kick that dream. If Olmid hadn‘t killed those two bastards when he did, and saved my ass, I would have fed the rats. The three months I spent in the hospital just made me hate them worse.

  Yasaid sat on the side of the bed still shaky and deeply puzzled about the early call and its urgency. It disturbed him. Communications like that usually was the start of a new operation, or a problem with an ongoing one, which he had to fix. That often meant eliminating some problem-maker, or often as not several of them. He scratched the three AKM-57 bullet hole scars on his chest, a present the SWG had given him that night.

  I bet they’re giving us trouble again. Guess I’ll find out soon enough. I’d sure like to eliminate those sons a bitches. I’m really tired of those lice-infected bastards.

  He groaned as he got out of bed, stretched to sooth his aching muscles, and headed for the john. When he finished, and showered, he picked out a black, pinstriped single-breasted business suit and complemented it with a striped tie and black Italian loafers. After dressing, he admired himself in his bedroom’s full-length mirror.

  He wore his curly black hair and beard cut close. A big man, almost six feet four he weighed over 210 pounds and was very fit. He ran his hand over his middle, pleased there was no roll. He liked his light brown complexion and thought himself quite handsome. I’m a fine specimen for a man of forty, and what a lady-killer I am. A good-looking man like me should have women beating down his door.

  Yasaid enjoyed his breakfast of fruit, rolls, cheese and tea while he read the morning paper to catch up on the latest international political and business news. He poured himself another cup before he picked up his briefcase, got in his new Mercedes STV and went to his office in downtown Anwar.

  Yasaid was proud of his successful import export business. Over the years, he had established distribution centers in America, China and other European Union nations. From all outside appearances, he was a successful and rich Pakistani executive.

  His secretary had placed a folder, containing things requiring his attention, on his desk. After she brought him tea, he opened the folder and accessed his mail from his Qtab.

  Yasaid looked out the window. What a beautiful day. Sure would like to play some golf or, even better, spend the afternoon in bed with my girl friend.

  While he was reading his messages, the phone
call he was expecting came in.

  “Yasaid, this is Sheik Ollie Oganda.”

  Yasaid responded immediately. “Yes, Your Grace, How can I be of service?”

  The sheik responded in a quiet tone. “I see you’re awake now. I need to meet with you in Cairo immediately. How soon can you be here?”

  “Allah willing, I can be there tomorrow.”

  “Very good. We shall meet at the mosque day after tomorrow. I sent a secret communication to our mole at NSTA. I told him we will link him into our meeting.”

  “Sounds good, Your Grace, I’ll see you soon.”

  Chapter 18

  Cairo, Egypt

  As usual, Cairo traffic was heavy. There were a lot of wrecks in Cairo and most STVs had the damage to prove it. As virtually, no one had insurance, when a wreck occurred, the occupants got out and the ensuing argument always led to a bloody fistfight. When it was over, they got back into their STVs and drove off.

  Glad I’m in a cab, he thought. I’d hate to have to bust some bastard’s head today, and mess my suit up. When the holographic chauffer pulled the vehicle into the hotel entrance, Yasaid used his card, paid the fare and got out.

  Hotel security was extremely tight to protect visiting dignitaries and business executives who stayed there. He had to go through two levels of security to enter the lobby. When he got to his room, he looked out on the courtyard. There were armed security guards and soldiers with automatic weapons everywhere.

  He felt comfortable knowing he could sleep this night without the worry of having his throat cut by an SWG soldier.

  Yasaid awoke early and had breakfast sent to his room along with the Cairo Daily newspaper. As usual, articles concerning people violating their marriages or committing various crimes took up one or two pages of the paper. The civil and criminal courts were always crowded. Since women could not file for divorce, the most common crime seemed to be that of a woman plotting to have her husband killed so she and her lover could marry or obtain the husband’s money. Women trying to travel without a signed permission slip from their husband were also frequent topics of dispute. Jail time and stiff fines were the usual punishment. Yasaid liked the Cairo Daily, if for no other reason than these articles.

  After finishing a fruit and cheese breakfast, he picked up his satellite video phone and called the sheik. The sheik answered at the first ring.

  “Hello, Yasaid. I’m pleased to see you made it. When can you arrive at the mosque?”

  “If the cab’s punctual, and Allah willing, I can be there in one hour.”

  “Good, I look forward to this meeting. We have important matters to discuss.”

  “Excellent, Your Grace, I’ll see you shortly.”

  The mosque sat on top of a hill east of the central section of Cairo. Yasaid marveled at its beauty as they drove up the meticulously landscaped drive. The architecture was Moroccan, a golden dome on top. Before he entered the mosque, he removed his shoes and bowed in reverence. He was supposed to meet the sheik in a meeting room off the main prayer center. Yasaid appreciated the hallway’s great arches and fired bright-red Moroccan tiles. Beautiful murals of religious significance adorned the walls, and artfully sculptured gardens complemented courtyards all around the mosque.

  As he approached the meeting room, the sheik was praying, Yasaid waited until he finished before he entered the room. After all their years together, Yasaid still felt nervous about any audience with Oganda. At the appropriate point, the sheik gave Yasaid his hand. Yasaid bowed and kissed his ring.

  “Yasaid, I’m pleased you’re here, we have much to talk about.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. May Allah bless you with long life.”

  “Please close the door. I need to know the status of our project.”

  An aid brought the men tea, then left, closing the door behind him.

  “Your Grace, our mole in NSTA reported the Americans have finished the System Critical Design Review of their wormhole system.”

  The sheik’s eyes lit up. “Praise be to Allah. Excellent news. Where are we in our efforts?”

  “Our system construction’s on schedule. We still don’t have all the necessary computer codes to control our new weapon. It’s going to take a while longer to get those.”

  “I’ve been curious to know how you have been able to obtain such sophisticated equipment without violating international export laws,” the sheik said.

  Yasaid rubbed his beard and thought how clever he was. “We’ve bought similar equipments and materials under our international science and technology agreements. My moles in the STL procurement department have sent us all the drawings and specifications they’ve used to buy equipment for the project.”

  “Our investment in your MBA at Harvard was a good one. You’ve done well. The miniature black hole will be a precision strike tool and enable us to destroy a city or country without firing a shot. There’s no defense against it,” the sheik said with a smug look. “If we can accomplish this, we will rule the world.”

  Yasaid’s phone rang. It was the NSTA mole. Yasaid established a conference call so the three men could confer. “Thank you for calling us. Do you have the latest status on the project at STL?” Yasaid asked.

  “Not completely, but I should know more within a few days.”

  “You both know our plan,” the sheik said. “If possible, we must cause technical problems to cause sufficient delays so we can get our system ready for the code.”

  “Your Grace,” the mole said, “I plan to inject a new undetectable virus into the system that will cause numerous technological problems. That should create political issues with the American Congress, resulting in delays until the R&D Congressional Oversight Subcommittee is convinced they have mitigated the risk. Two men caused much trouble at the SCDR. They’re consultants to that committee, and will not hesitate to recommend a slowdown or stop work order if some serious problem occurs.”

  Yasaid frowned and asked, “Do you have access to the system to inject these viruses? As important, who might be capable of finding them before they do the damage we hope for?”

  “I’ve been assigned to the project team, so it will be easy for me to access the system,” the mole replied. “The only person who might be capable of detecting what I do is Pepper Martin or their AI computer entity they call Wanda. Martin’s one of the world’s leading experts in virus detection and elimination, as well as system diagnostics — almost as good as Dr. Lieu. I tried to assassinate her in Albuquerque, but unfortunately, I wasn’t successful. She’s now staying at the STL facility, and another assassination attempt will be difficult.”

  The sheik shook his head. “I understand. It is too bad we can’t eliminate her. If you can kill her without blowing your cover, it would be desirable. It would also be helpful to terminate that Wanda program. Both of them could prove troublesome. How do you plan to insert the virus? Don’t they staff the systems day and night?

  “Your Grace, I have authority to access the system, so no one will notice what I do. The virus is a new type, capable of disguising itself to look like parity bits or very simple utility programs. When the scanners review the software codes, they will generally ignore it. The virus constantly changes form and hides. When that happens, its code will break into bit patterns that only the kernel has the ability to detect and recompose. To the scanners, this will look like random bytes, similar to a spread spectrum communication system where the intelligence appears as white noise unless you have the unscrambling codes. When certain codes are activated by the operating system, the kernel will pull itself together rapidly and attack, using only the code it needs at the time.”

  The sheik exclaimed, “Excellent. Have we obtained the code for the field and matter synthesizers and navigation modules? It seems these are the final and most important part of our plan.”

  “Once the code for the field and matter synthesizers and navigation modules are finalized, I’ll download it and send it to General Sone for modification. I have
a very clever way of accomplishing this so the Americans won’t detect it. We must make sure the STL team has worked out the instabilities, or we could wind up destroying our own weapon system. I’ll know when the time is right.”

  “This is a good plan. Do not blow your cover and report to me as things develop. Your new code name will be Omega.”

  “I understand and obey, Your Grace,” the mole replied, cutting the link.

  “Yasaid, the SWG is intent on stopping our project or forcibly taking it from us. They believe we’ll use it against them, and they’re correct. We have old scores to settle. Destroying them will be an excellent way to introduce our new weapon to the world. I want you to go to the site and review the operational status with General Sone. When you go, you must take all precautions. The SWG has attacked the site several times, and both of us lost many good soldiers. They have never succeeded in gaining entrance to the site area. You must be cautious when you travel there. They will not hesitate to ambush you.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” he said, nodding his understanding. “I’ll be careful, even though I’d love to kill a few of the swine.”

  “Be patient, Yasaid. Allah willing, we’ll soon kill all of those mongrels. Have a safe trip home.”

  Yasaid saw a grey Mercedes STV pull up in front of the Mosque as he got into his cab. A short, fat, bearded, bald man wearing sunglasses got out and was carrying a small package. Yasaid’s window was open slightly. “Don’t leave yet.” He said to the holographic chauffer.

  The fat man approached a beggar standing at the entrance to the mosque. “I have a gift for Sheik Oganda,” he said. “I will give you twenty pounds to leave it for him.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll make sure the sheik gets it.” The beggar took the package and smiled as the fat man gave him the twenty pounds.