by Bob Blink
"I thought he couldn't contact you?" Sammi Donaldson asked.
"All that is required is that my auxiliary memory file be updated with the information. I would suddenly be aware of the details that were added."
"Any time, any place, wherever you are in the Simulation?" Dr. Latham asked. "That's pretty remarkable."
"It is only software," Rao replied. "Location has no meaning."
"I want to know how we stop this guy and his buddies," Tony Rossetti asked. "I would guess I remain a target, and I'd just as soon eliminate the threat before they try again."
"They exist in the real world," Rao said shaking his head. "You can kill them every time they reappear here, but it won't harm the living versions in any meaningful way. That can only be done by someone actually present in the facility."
"Someone like your other self and his friend?" Rossetti asked.
"Just so," Rao agreed, "but I am not a violent person, and my other self would be the same and have no means to engage the Director and his killers. I fear that would only get him killed."
"Where is this Director from in the Simulation?" Rossetti asked. "What if I send Sal to kill the version of himself who is in here with us? "Maybe we eliminate all of his friends?"
"He comes from Dallas," Rao said. "You're killing them would certainly serve to alert him that his secrets have been discovered, but it wouldn't ultimately matter to any of them. Their Sim version knows nothing of what they are doing, and I am believing they are no longer cloning from the kernels in here. They have found a means of cloning off their existing persons in the Facility."
"I thought you said it was believed to have risks doing that?" Rodriguez asked.
"I think the Director has elected to ignore those risks," Rao explained.
"So maybe we don't act just yet," Rossetti relented. "But I want to know the names of all of this bastard's buddies. I'll have men locate them and be in a position to take them out when it seems prudent. What do you think?"
Lt. Rodriguez looked uncomfortable at the suggestion. "We can't support something like that. Those men aren't guilty of anything."
Rossetti got a sly look in his eye.
"Find out who they are and be ready to arrest them then. They are leverage we might need."
"Find out who else might be on this guy's list if you can," Sgt. Morrison asked.
Rao nodded slowly, uncomfortable where this is going.
"We must be careful. Once they suspect something, they will be able to monitor your every action, and have the upper hand in any encounter. They can come here, repeatedly if needed, and we have no means of going to them."
"What if this guy simply decided to shut down the Sim entirely?" Rodriguez asked. "He has five thousand people. Couldn't they start over after this disaster of yours with just that group?"
"Such an attempt would likely fail," Dr. Russell explained. "They lack the essential skills within the group to restart a functioning society. All the planning counts on being able to tap the knowledge held by those within the Simulation."
"So how do we proceed?" Sgt. Sammi Donaldson asked, curious to see where this was going to lead.
"I don't know," Lt. Rodriguez admitted. "The first thing I think we need to do while waiting and hoping our Mr. Rao here can get more guidance from his other self, is send someone to see his third incarnation in San Francisco. I think it would be very informative to speak with him, don't you? Perhaps he should be relocated somewhere. Do you have any suggestions, Mr. Rao?"
Sammi wasn't certain where her Lieutenant was going with this, but nodded slowly.
"Good! I want you, and maybe Sgt. Morrison to go there tomorrow and see to it. You can take the Tube in the morning. Mr. Rao should be able to tell you where you can find him."
"I am thinking it might be best to see if my other simulated self could go to New York, or perhaps even better to Washington, D.C.," Rao said after thinking a moment. "My real world self could update his file with useful information and he could be a contact for our politicians should the need arise."
"Maybe he should come along with us to San Francisco?" Sammi asked. "It would make it easier to convince this earlier version we aren't nuts."
"I cannot go there," Rao said. "Remember there can only be one of me at a time in any given node."
"You did say that, didn't you?" Sammi replied. There was little doubt she'd been testing him to see if he'd slip up on his earlier claim.
"What about you, Mr. Rossetti?" Rodriguez asked.
"I will be returning to Chicago this evening. You can contact me at any time. My resources are at your disposal."
He looked at Rao.
"One last thing. Just my curiosity. We have discussed a number of cities that make up these nodes. There are still four you haven't identified. Is there a reason?"
Rao shook his head. "The remaining cities are Denver, Boston, Miami, and Seattle."
Rossetti nodded slowly. "Thank you," he said.
"Where are you staying, Mr. Rao. In case we need to contact you before morning."
"I have a hotel room at the Hilton by the airport," he replied. "Don procured it for me. I will have to have some money forwarded so I can reimburse him."
"You can do that?"
"My real-world self can equip me with most anything if he realizes the need," Rao explained.
Chapter 16
San Francisco
"What are you concentrating so hard on?" Sgt. John Morrison asked as the Tube approached their stop under the financial district in San Francisco. He'd been unable to gain the attention of the attractive LAPD detective the entire trip. Now that they had nearly completed the twenty-minute ride from downtown Los Angeles she seemed finally to be coming out of her trance.
"I was looking for a break or discontinuity in my awareness as we traveled. That Rao fellow said there was a handoff between the computers, and that we really didn't go anywhere. We'd just think we had."
Morrison shook his head in disgust. Now it seemed that this one was starting to buy the whole nonsense story.
"Did you sense anything?" he asked sarcastically.
"I couldn't tell," Sammi admitted. "I tried to focus on my awareness, but there isn't anything to see out of the Tube car during the trip, and the conversations of those around us were too disjointed to provide any meaningful way of tracking what was happening. I kept checking my watch and counting the minutes, and I think I counted all twenty separately, but I have this odd suspicion that could have been easily faked. So, I don't know. I don't think anything happened, but I've concluded if it did, then this supposed simulation is too good to be able to sense anything."
"Let's go," Morrison said with a touch of frustration as the Tube car slid to a smooth stop, the doors opening at the far end to allow the passengers to disembark. "The Cross-Bay Transit [CBT] is just down the block."
They were headed toward Berkeley and the University of California campus where Subha Rao said they would find his other simulated self. He had an apartment in one of the community villages on the south side of the campus just off Shattuck Avenue, but this time of day he would be most likely found in his office in Cory Hall. Sammi wanted to have a chance to observe the individual they had been directed toward without his knowing he was being watched. She believed they might learn a lot more that way than by simply confronting the man.
Their Rao had warned that the San Francisco based Rao would know nothing about the Simulation, the Facility, or what was going on. He would believe he was still finishing up his degree while working part time for a software development firm in San Jose. He spent two days a week at the firm, and the rest of his time in Berkeley.
"What do you say we hit Chinatown afterwards for dinner?" Sgt. Morrison asked, in a not too subtle attempt to suggest they might find a way to link up now that they were both away from their home bases. "It is known to have the best Chinese cuisine anywhere in the country."
Sammi glanced at the not unattractive detective. A decade older
than herself, she knew exactly what the older cop was suggesting.
"I don't date other cops," she said simply. "Especially not cops that are only looking for a quickie, one-nighter. I've made my reputation by avoiding just that kind of situation. Besides, I've seen how low the survival rate is for cop-on-cop relationships. I'll be heading back to LA after we finish up here. You're welcome to stay on and enjoy the city on your own though."
Sgt. Morrison grimaced. Well, it never hurt to try. Nothing ventured, he always said. To smooth the awkward moment, he shifted the conversation toward the matter at hand.
"What did your Lieutenant want to talk with you about just before we left?" he asked. Rodriguez had pulled Sammi off to one side and had spoken briefly with her.
"He's going to have a couple of detectives keep an eye on Rao while we are up here. He wants to see what he is doing, and make sure he didn't slip up here to pull some kind of con," she explained.
"That's why he asked where he was staying," Morrison said.
Sammi nodded. "He also wants to know where he is so he can grab him at a moment's notice. We are supposed to set up a telecon once we get this Rao alone."
"And here I was starting to believe your Lieutenant had bought this whole thing."
"Let's say he shares some of our doubts," she replied. "But you have to admit, whatever is going on is awfully elaborate. I was surprised when that Washington detective confirmed that the bodies of the shooters there disappeared just the way Rossetti said happened in Chicago."
"You believe Rossetti?' Morrison asked.
"I think he believes it," she said. "He admits he didn't personally see what happened. They had him stashed away somewhere safe, but he trusts his men implicitly, especially this Sal fellow. And I can't see any advantage to Sal lying to Rossetti. That, more than anything, bothers me."
The CBT car, which had been making a number of stops as it marched its way through Oakland and South Berkeley, had finally reached the Shattuck stop just a few blocks west of the University. The two detectives stepped off the underground exit, an old BART station that had been completely modernized and expanded, and headed up to the surface level.
Old Berkeley had been completely rebuilt after the earthquake twenty-two years earlier. Shattuck was still the commercial center of the city, but now the buildings were modernized, interlinked, and formed a multi-block open-air mall. To the west, all of the large hotels had twenty-story structures, offering accommodations to visitors who had business on this side of the Bay, as well as those who didn't wish to spring for the unrealistic prices being demanded in San Francisco itself. Immediately to the east were a number of residential villages, and closer to the campus were rows of dormitory complexes for the undergraduate students. On the north side of the campus single family residences could be found, although the cost was such that few actually living there were students anymore. A few well-off professors, and mostly well-to-do types who liked the University atmosphere, had taken over the area.
"We try his office first?" Morrison asked.
Sammi nodded and pointed the way. She'd been here the previous summer, visiting her sister who lived in Vallejo to the north a few miles, and they'd spent part of a day wandering around the attractive campus.
She had checked the location of Cory Hall on the WorldNet before leaving LA, and knew it was a white stone building located about as far as it could be from where they had exited the CBT and still be on the main campus. She pointed to their right as they hoofed up one of the streets leading toward the campus and Campanile Way.
"His apartment is just over there," she said. "It's on the corner of Channing Way and Ellsworth."
Twenty minutes later they turned onto University Drive, and after a short walk turned east just before McLaughlin Hall. They were almost there.
"It's late in the day," Morrison noted. "He may have left already."
"If he's not there, we'll chase him down at his apartment," Sammi replied. "But I think we both agree it would be best to observe him a while before approaching him."
"If this is a setup, he'll have been told he would most likely be under surveillance after the meeting in LA. I think we'll learn more face-to-face. It's hard for most people to lie well when someone who knows what to look for is watching them from a couple feet away."
Sammi couldn't argue the point, but felt both inputs would be useful. They finally reached Cory Hall, and headed inside, and up to the second level where they'd been told Rao had his office. They made their way down the hallway, passing the area where four graduate students shared a common area with their private small cubicles attached. They could see that someone was in the office they'd been told was Rao's.
"Look's like he is still here," Sammi noted. "Let's watch for him to leave from that small lounge down the hall."
Just over forty-five minutes later, a small, thin, and dark-haired individual stepped out of the office and into the hallway, heading the opposite direction toward the stairs.
"That's him," Morrison said unnecessarily. There was no mistaking the similarity between this Rao and the one they'd spent the morning with at LAPD.
They followed a short distance behind, the young man showing no indication that he was aware of being followed. For a time they thought he was heading home, which was disappointing. But as he headed down Telegraph Avenue, he turned away from the route that would take him to his apartment, and after half a block stepped into the House of Curries.
"He's going for dinner," Sammi noted. "Are you up for some Indian food?"
"I've never tried it," Morrison admitted. "I'd rather have a good steak or some Chinese."
"Come on," Sammi urged, and after a few minutes, they followed into the restaurant. They spotted Rao sitting alone at a small table off to one side as they were escorted to a booth almost directly opposite their subject. Both of them had a good view of Rao.
"He certainly looks like our Rao," Morrison noted after covertly examining the man as he made notes on a pad of paper while waiting for his meal to be delivered.
"They could be twins," Sammi agreed. "All except that scar, and the fact he looks just a bit older."
While the two men were virtually copies of one another in every way, this Rao had a noticeable scar running along the left side of his face. It extended from the side of his mouth along his face almost to his ear.
Our Rao didn't tell us about that," Morrison noted.
"Something to ask him about later," she agreed.
They watched as their subject waited for his dinner, then set to it with great gusto once it arrived. Sammi enjoyed her meal, but Sgt. Morrison was clearly not an adventuresome eater.
"It would be nice to watch him for a day or so, but your Lieutenant instructed us to brace this guy today," Morrison pointed out. "Shall we have a talk with him here, or wait until he gets to his apartment?"
Sammi had been thinking along similar lines. She had decided either this guy was an excellent actor, or was exactly what he seemed to be. She concluded they weren't going to learn much by following him around, and he couldn't very well refuse them entry like he might at his apartment.
"Let's go and talk with him," she said, deciding on a course of action.
Morrison grunted in approval, and pushed aside the uneaten plate of curry, and stood up.
About half the tables in the small restaurant were occupied, but there were very few people between where they had been sitting in a booth and the wiry Indian sat at his small table. He sensed their arrival, and looked up from his scribbling, watching them come. The look in his eyes changed to genuine confusion as they approached the table, something not even the best con artist could have done convincingly Sammi decided. Used to the direct approach, Sgt. Morrison pulled back the spare chair and sat down. Sammi snagged a chair from an adjacent table, and pulled it over so she could do the same.
The confused look on Subha Rao's face had grown stronger, perhaps with a bit of concern as this transpired. Then he forced a smile, clearl
y not very genuine, and asked, "I am knowing you from somewhere?"
"Not exactly," Morrison replied.
"You are Subha Rao?" Sammi Donaldson asked, just to verify he would answer in the affirmative. At this close range there was no doubt he was a brother or a twin to the man they knew in Los Angeles by that name, scar or no scar.
Rao nodded enthusiastically, a mannerism she'd seen earlier in the day.
"That is so. I am Rao," he replied. "I am able to help you somehow?"
He sounded exactly like the Rao they knew from Los Angeles. His way of speaking and the sound of his voice were perfectly matched.
"We have a couple of questions for you," she explained, as she pulled out her ID case and flashed her badge. Morrison did the same.
Rao's eyes grew wide, but he was an observant character, and spotted the differences in their badges.
"Police," he said. "One of you is from Los Angeles and the other from Chicago. That is most incredible. I have never been to Chicago. I had a friend in Los Angeles, but he returned to India last fall. Why would you be seeking me?"
"That's a complicated answer," Sgt. Morrison said. "For now, do you have any brothers or cousins?"
Rao nodded enthusiastically.
"I am having a brother, but he is in India."
"How old?" Sammi asked.
"He is nine, just this last month," Rao replied happily. "But why would you care about such things?"
"No one related to you here in America?" Morrison persisted.
"No one," Rao replied, noting he wasn't getting answers in return.
"What if I were to tell you that someone who looks like you, almost exactly, and is using your name, is currently in Los Angeles?" Sammi asked, watching the young man carefully.
"That would be most unusual," Rao replied. "Why would anyone do that?"
"Indeed," Morrison said, echoing the young man's sentiments.
"We need to clear something up," Sammi explained. "I would like to take one strand of your hair if I may?"
"If you wish," Rao said agreeably, "but I would ask that you tell me what this involves. Has this person committed some crime in my name? I can assure you that I have not left the Bay area in many months."
