Freedom Club

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Freedom Club Page 7

by Saul Garnell


  Actually, Shinzou did know the name. But it didn’t feel right to reveal that fact. Or maybe he just liked watching Hugo squirm a bit. Playing stupid was part of the game.

  He shrugged. “Maybe. It sounds familiar. There are so many. But the market always changes and the names get chopped up.”

  Hugo nodded. “Anyway, I need you to get started. I’ll be working with my contacts in Chindo. I’ll also get a Purchase Order for your time and once your security status is updated I’ll send you all the information we have to date.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “For this case we’ll probably have to deal heavily with the Chindo Union and Japan. Throw in some molecular biology and I think you can see why I called you on Christmas Eve.”

  Shinzou chortled. “Yes, this does seem like work that I am well suited for.”

  “Just remember,” Hugo asserted. “I really need to make budget this quarter. So I’m counting on you! If this heats up, well, get ready to eat lots of curry on us!”

  Shinzou frowned and shook his head. “Bangys don’t eat curry. It’s primarily sambar in the south.”

  “Yes, well, whatever’s popular these days,” Hugo sniffed.

  Sumeet dreaded Hiral’s reaction to their venue, but it was better than a grimy dhaba serving rasam and sambar. No way! That would get him killed. But a convincing explanation would be needed, and Ganesh’s logic wouldn’t do. Pondering his dilemma, he briskly walked past the haute couture boutiques on Church Street and entered the Oriental Bazaar shopping mall entrance, where the cool air of the building’s airlock provided relief from the outside drizzle and humidity.

  Ignoring a blitz of music and robotic shop hawkers, Sumeet blindly made his way toward the restaurant arcade on the seventieth floor. Just past the central promenade’s hodgepodge of sushi bars and Asian restaurants, the Union Wok’s towering marquee lamp pulsated in Kannada, a language on the verge of extinction but still appreciated by whimsical locals.

  With a brief sigh, Sumeet ignored the multi-spectral Chinese-style lamp as he stepped through the restaurant’s noren shrouded entranceway. Surrounded on both sides by spherical saltwater aquariums, he approached the reception as a floater targeted him for assistance.

  “Can I help you, sir?” asked the robotic maître’d.

  Sumeet searched past its spherical shell, hoping to make out his party. It was dark inside. All he could make out was a sea of bobbing heads and the bustle of crawlers, which picked at shiny dishes with claw-like arms.

  “Yes,” he finally said. “I am here to join some friends. I have a reser—”

  “Sumeet R. Yes, welcome back,” it replied. “I believe one of your party members is already here.”

  Sumeet looked up at the floater as it displayed a still picture of Ganesh making provocative hand signs.

  Sumeet smirked begrudgingly. “Yes, he’s with me, unfortunately.”

  “I will escort the remainder of your party when they arrive,” said the maître’d as it headed into the main serving area.

  Following closely, Sumeet weaved past several tables of happy diners. The conversations of the young groups appeared joyful and full of open laughter. Hoping that his dinner would fare as well, his emotions flip-flopped with lingering trepidation.

  At their assigned table, Sumeet found Ganesh wearing a red tropical wool suit that stood out against the black shades of ebony that accented the restaurant’s interior. What a showoff. Lackadaisically chatting with someone in virtual space, Ganesh ignored him while flamboyantly drinking champagne.

  Sumeet sat down and helped himself to a half-spent can of cola and a large pot of Jasmine tea. The flexi laminated pot went afire with Kingfisher scrollers as he waited restively for Ganesh to finish the call.

  Ganesh eventually hung up and said, “So? You decided to come after all. I almost gave up on you.”

  “Nice to see you this evening,” Sumeet replied dryly.

  “That’s it?”

  “Of course. How else should I address a trouble-making fellow such as yourself.”

  “What a terrible thing to say!” Ganesh quipped, before bursting out in wild laughter. “I wonder how you’ll fare with the women. I am sure you’ll emphasize that I chose this wretched place. It won’t help, you know. Those piranhas are nastier than the ones at the door! They’re going to eat you alive.

  Sumeet didn’t immediately respond. “You’re probably right. But for Hiral, I have come to realize that I must write off such events as the price for love.”

  “Love?” Ganesh sputtered while taking a sip. “I think you will find that the price is higher than you imagine.”

  “Well, I suppose men have been willing to pay any price for love throughout history. Why should I be any different?”

  Ganesh put his elbows on the table in a confidential manner. “Hey, Goobey, don’t mix up love with lust. It’s not love that men have paid any price for.”

  Ganesh snorted with smug satisfaction and went back to his glass, tipping it at a high angle to get the last drop. Sumeet considered those words. What a child Ganesh was at times. Once again, he failed to see the more cerebral side of love. That’s why, he reminded himself, Ganesh never stayed in relationships very long. The man was an idiot!

  Sumeet sneered. “You truly are a cretin. Have I told you that before?”

  “Many times,” he said, still shaking the glass dry.

  “No, I mean it. I’ve never met someone as incapable of having a real relationship as you. Yet you never fail to advise on things that clearly are beyond you.”

  “They’re almost here,” Ganesh replied, looking at his phone’s GPS.

  Frowning, Ganesh guzzled the Kingfisher while dropping the spent champagne glass on the drink spider as it crawled by.

  “Excuse me, sir?” said a waiter. “Can I offer you another drink while you are waiting for your party?”

  Surprised, Ganesh looked up at the floater and then pedantically examined the table’s menu spread out before him. Sumeet looked on with disgust.

  “Oh, the hell with all these foreign names!” he groused. “Just bring me some Old Monk on the rocks.”

  “Very good, sir. And would you like the Gold or Platinum Reserve?”

  “Platinum! I drink only the best, you roundy piece of junk! Don’t you have me on file? And make it a double. With ice, mind you.”

  “Very good,” said the floater, as it sped away to take orders from the next table.”

  “Happy?” Sumeet asked.

  “Of course I’m happy. In fact, I find the more I drink the happier I get. And let me tell you, those two are... “ Ganesh stopped in midsentence and nodded toward the entrance. “Get ready! Here they come.”

  Sumeet watched Ganesh cleaning himself up with deliberate showmanship. Within seconds, he had brushed his hair back, straightened his tie, and sat neatly with hands folded on the tablecloth. Sumeet looked on, nonplussed.

  “Oh, I can’t wait to see what Hiral’s going to do to you,” Ganesh whispered under a wide clandestine smile.

  Sumeet looked over and made out Hiral’s slender figure from across the room. He waved affectionately. She didn’t respond in kind but patted Ganesh’s friend Manju on the shoulder. Once both men were in their sights, the two nodded and began marching through the crowded room. Manju was dressed casually in a gold and black Balaramapuram sari that contrasted sharply next to Hiral, whose ornate western dress exemplified the epitome of Bengalurian haute couture. The circular patterns of the dress’s rope-like structure shimmered in the low light of the restaurant, and Sumeet was transfixed by her angelic form until she carefully took a seat across from him.

  “Hello, love,” Sumeet said.

  Placing her mink handbag on the table, Hiral neatly interlocked her jewel-encrusted fingernails. Her hands sparkled in the table’s artificial candlelight.

  She then spoke in an upbraiding tone. “Sumeet, my dear, I’m not sure if your illustrious teachers at Bishop Cotton failed to educate you properly
in geography, but China is not part of Turkey.”

  “Not yet, but their GDP has outperformed Turkey over the last eight quarters,” Ganesh said with school boy alertness.

  “Quiet, you!” Hiral snapped back.

  “Calm down, Hiral,” Sumeet said, while gently stroking her manicured hands. “We chose this restaurant in order to...compromise.”

  “Compromise?” Hiral blurted. “Perhaps if we took turns going where at least one of us was in favor, but coming here is like...like the lowest common denominator!”

  Ganesh chimed in again. “Mutual unhappiness is acceptable when...”

  “Oh, I think I’ll just kill him now,” Hiral hissed and did her best to slap Ganesh on the head.

  The two fought like school kids. She took care not to ruin her manicured fingernails, as Ganesh ducked the blows and laughed like a Hyena. Rolling her eyes, Manju watched with disgust and finally intervened by grabbing Hiral’s arm.

  “Stop it!” she said laughing.

  What an undignified bunch, Sumeet thought while smirking. Still, he enjoyed everyone’s companionship, and appreciated Manju’s efforts as group referee. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to stop outright war between the two. Putting an end to it, Sumeet came around the table and rubbed Hiral’s shoulders apologetically.

  “Don’t worry, Hiral. I promise that the next time it will be wherever you like. No questions asked.”

  Sumeet stared at Ganesh, cocking his eyebrows to invite some level of agreement.

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” Ganesh offered politically. “I would hate to be the cause of any divorce, especially one so...uhm, prior to the wedding.”

  Hiral looked at both men with furrowed eyebrows, but could not ignore the pampering offered as a white flag. Finally after several moments of blissful massage, she relented.

  “You two bastards had better live up to your words.” she threatened softly.

  Ganesh watched for a while as Sumeet kept up his soothing charm. Manju shrugged with indifference as both love birds finally cooed each other into a peaceful lull.

  Making facial gestures like a nauseated child, Ganesh said, “So, you two! How are the marriage plans coming along?”

  Hiral stared at Sumeet, beaming with pleasure. “We haven’t really planned anything yet,” she tittered.

  “Yes, well, uhm, it is a bit early... We still have over a year to worry about it all.”

  Hiral giggled as both she and Sumeet gazed at each other. Snorting, Ganesh gave up talking and called up table menus for everyone to view.

  “Let’s eat something!” he demanded.

  Everyone’s mood changed. They began paging through the tablecloth’s flexi menu, and choosing their favorite items. The master order list grew quickly and soon brimmed with delicacies. Sweet Ostrich Patiala, Lobster Manchurian, and Fermented Tofu with Chili showed up first. Looking over the list, Sumeet briefly worried if another war would break out. He saw Ganesh had marked two of Hiral’s expensive choices for deletion, but sighed with relief when Manju silently elbowed Ganesh. Thankfully, he relented without a fuss. The entries eventually slowed down, and nods all around confirmed the group’s acceptance. Sumeet hit the order key and looked up satisfied.

  “Now that that’s finished,” he said, “let’s change the topic, shall we?”

  With an opportunity to redirect events, Manju spoke up enthusiastically. “Yes! System errors knocked out the Whitefield shopping sector today,” she said. “Did you know about that, Sumeet?”

  “Do we have to talk about this? It’s making my life hell,” Ganesh groaned.

  “What happened?” Sumeet asked in complete ignorance.

  Surprised, Hiral smacked Sumeet’s hand lightly. “Have you been asleep all day?” she exclaimed. “My God! The whole district’s payment system went down at five. It was like a mad house! The lines at the scanners got longer and longer, and some fights even broke out.”

  “But I thought that sort of thing wasn’t possible,” Sumeet said. “Don’t we have backups...? You mean the whole network?”

  “Yes,” Ganesh grumbled. “The whole network went along with the backup system.”

  “Isn’t that your fault, Ganesh?” Hiral asked innocently, as she helped herself to some tea. “Don’t you boys at Sri-Ooti plan for that sort of thing?”

  Sumeet turned toward Ganesh with concern. He knew Hiral’s comment was intended to draw his reaction. But Ganesh said nothing. Tapping chopsticks to set them correctly in his hand, Ganesh looked back coolly.

  “You’re right,” he reluctantly admitted. “We run the POS scanners and network equipment, ensuring it all stays up using many different backups, both logical and physical. But don’t get this confused with human error or a simple accident. This was LS! When that happens, there are no guarantees.”

  Manju looked at everyone a bit confused. “Really? The reports didn’t say it was LS. Most news channels are just reporting simple network failure.”

  “My team had to fix the first round of problems that popped up in ASPAU,” Ganesh explained. “However during all the events today, we did a comparison. Perfect timing I tell you. I’m certain we’ll have to make an announcement.”

  “So what did you find?” asked Sumeet.

  Before Ganesh could say anything, a flathead spider placed hors d’oeuvres using its multi-hinged arm to snake the plates one by one onto the table. Once the food was arranged, everyone grabbed chopsticks and began eating. Ganesh also noticed another flathead holding out his rum. Using his free hand, he abruptly snatched it.

  Satisfied with the drink’s flavor, Ganesh looked back at Sumeet. “You see, we got the strangest results back from the IC testing lab. They found micro-fractures and generic degradation, in particular bio-pathways laid in the board’s honey chrome.”

  “The boards at the front-end?” Sumeet asked.

  “Of course not,” Ganesh snapped back. “How the hell can you bring down the whole sector if the board was at one endpoint?”

  “Of course, Sumeet, everyone knows that,” Hiral said sarcastically.

  Ganesh waited for laughter to subside.

  “These boards are specially designed for our concentration hubs. We have many around Bengaluru, but these particular components are backed up logically, not physically.”

  “That’s senseless,” Hiral said. “Why not?”

  “Well, a lot of our fault-free logic is redundantly hard-coded on them. They’ve never failed. Anyway, should any board actually drop out, we simply rely on other boards to pick up the slack.”

  “Well, didn’t that happen?” Sumeet inquired, while shoveling noodles onto his plate.

  “Yes.”

  Manju looked up inquisitively. “I thought they said the network went down.”

  “Yes,” Ganesh nodded. “In terms of efficiency, the network was down.”

  Sumeet leaned a bit closer from across the table. “I don’t understand. Did the network actually go down or not?”

  “It depends on your point of view, I suppose,” Ganesh answered, while swirling ice in his glass. “These days it’s very hard to actually bring an entire systems down, but efficiency can be hit. From a layman’s point of view it looks like the system is down, but in reality it’s just slow. Everyone still screams bloody hell, though.”

  “Then why don’t you simply say that?” Hiral demanded.

  Ganesh looked back unimpressed. “Marketing won’t let us. Think about it. You have a million angry network users, and what? You want to say the network is just slow?” Ganesh waved his hand in the air, indicating the stupidity of it. “Maybe you get away with that in our father’s time but not these days.”

  Sumeet nodded with understanding. “I suppose we’re so unfamiliar with failure.”

  “It’s not just that. The marketing guys care more because it is an issue of reputation. Any slowdown is failure and a reason to switch to other vendors.”

  “Like Gapa-Straightline?” Manju asked with a light snicker?
r />   Ganesh cursed and helped himself to more food. “Their Death-Marketing guys had a field day with this. I saw their scrollers while watching the live feeds.”

  “Come on, Ganesh,” Sumeet said. “I’m sure it’ll all go away soon.”

  Ganesh looked angrily at Sumeet. “No it won’t. That’s the whole point I am trying to get to. The results from the IC lab show a genetic flaw in certain pathways of our neural boards. They can fail at any time. All of them!”

  Sumeet stopped to pour tea for Hiral, who was showing off her jewelry to Manju. The two ladies were temporarily oblivious to the conversation. Sumeet, though, mulled over Ganesh’s frustration, but could not fully see its cause.

  “Well, then, just replace them,” he said innocently.

  Ganesh threw his arm up in frustration. “Sure, that would be fine if the replacement stock were not infected, but it is. We grew them all at once a few years back as part of an overall upgrade. They share the same mutation. So we have to go back and get new ones incubated first, then start the manufacturing process all over again. It will take weeks, months perhaps.”

  “You said this was LS.” Sumeet said.

  “Without question.”

  He took another sip of tea. “But it doesn’t sound like it. This all sounds like a good old-fashioned genetic-encoding error. It happened in the past. Maybe twenty years ago, but statistically they’re considered rare now. Certainly nothing to get alarmed about.”

  “What? Do you think I can’t tell the difference between dumb errors and maliciousness? Goobey! I haven’t told you everything yet.”

  “There’s more?” Sumeet asked.

  “Then tell us,” Manju urged.

  Both ladies put away their trophy purchases and began showing more interest. Ganesh looked around the table and saw he had everyone’s attention again. Lowering his voice, he spoke guardedly.

  “What is yet unknown by anyone is that only specific pathways on the board were affected. Only those dedicated to the front-end transaction creation malfunctioned. However, all the clearing and settlement neurons remained untouched. This was what they wanted.”

 

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