Startoucher

by C. J. Odle

  “We don’t know that for sure.”

  “When Vega insisted on revealing the craft, Sirius made it clear that only the Pyramid data and witnesses would impact the trial.”

  “But later on,” Sarah added, “the Supreme told Sirius its judgment would take into account humanity discovering its origins.”

  “That’s the whole point. Vega’s case rests on a future potential that can’t be proven. The existing proof from the Pyramid goes against us, and the witness statements are making things far worse.”

  “OK, OK, you’ve convinced me.” Sarah said. “But is it even possible to hack the Pyramid?” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke.

  “I don’t know,” Jake admitted, “but we have to try.”

  “How are you going to contact those guys?”

  “The same way I contacted you when you were hidden behind the trees.”

  Jake tried to sound as confident, but when he’d contacted Sarah telepathically for the first time, Jake had known exactly where she’d been, and they’d shared a strong connection.

  In the silence of the tubed corridor, he began to concentrate. He sought out the feeling of the universal consciousness, sinking down into it, letting it wash over him. Sarah’s presence helped, providing a sense of calm and oneness, making it easier for him to relax and let go of his normal state of mind. He began to stretch out psychically, and he could see swirling clouds of dark brown in his inner eye. Jake breathed slowly and tried to peer through them.

  In the aftermath of his peak experience with the universal consciousness, distance seemed irrelevant and he could connect almost at will to whomever he wanted. Now he found the process harder. As he peered at the churning brown clouds, they began to slow down and then drift across his inner field of vision. His focal point of awareness became drawn backward and to the right, and he swung around in the clouds and then zoomed forward into a smoky mist that parted to reveal an x-ray-type image of the courtroom. Jake could see the bright sphere of the Supreme pulsing gently and then the faint outlines of the two aliens. The outlines of the eight witnesses were barely visible, but he could make out the strong jaw of the president and the form of Paige sitting in her deck chair.

  The Supreme had a massive presence, and Jake found himself drawn irresistibly toward it. He concentrated and managed to skirt his focal point of awareness around the pulsing sphere and zoom back out of the courtroom. Jake experimented and discovered that by focusing awareness on a particular spot of his inner landscape, he could navigate toward it. Rather like a psychic GPS.

  The clouds continued to drift across his field of vision as he zoomed forward again. In the far left, he could make out the glowing triangle of the Pyramid, but he ignored it and allowed himself to be drawn upward. Suddenly, the clouds vanished, and Jake was outside the spaceship. In front of him were the ghostly outlines of hundreds of human bodies, clustered together in small groups.

  How to find Marina? Surely it couldn’t be too hard… just the tricky part of making the initial telepathic link. Jake had settled on Marina rather than Adam or Billy. She was the psychically receptive one.

  Jake tried to visualize her face, but nothing happened, so he scanned left and right across the ghostly bodies in the desert. One started to glow, and as he zoomed in, he could see tiny pixels of light dancing inside it. Marina’s head coalesced into view, and suddenly he was staring at her electric-blue hair and catlike eyes.

  He stretched his consciousness toward her, touching her mind the way he did when he communicated with Vega or Sirius, pulsing the words along the strands of the universe.

  “Marina, can you hear me?”

  With almost anyone else, there would have been a long pause of disbelief. Possibly as they worried about going mad. Instead, her words came back straightaway.

  “Yes, I can hear you. Is this some kind of telepathic communication the aliens taught you? Oh my god, this is so incredible.” Her voice sounded clear, but it was much fainter than when the aliens spoke in his mind.

  Briefly, Jake found himself wondering if trusting his plan to three virtual strangers was such a good idea. But what other choice did he have?

  “Listen, Marina, there’s something I need you to do,” Jake sent.

  “And now I’m going to be taking instructions from voices in my head?”

  “Not so much you as the other two,” Jake sent. “Tell me, how do you think they’d react to the chance to hack an alien supercomputer?”

  “I think they’d love it,” Marina sent back. “But why?”

  “To try to save us all. And they have to do it before the trial finishes. We’re outside the courtroom now, and not far from the Pyramid. Ask Gemini how we can alter the percentages, and we’ll wait for your reply.”

  In the courtroom of the ship, Sirius called the pope to the stand. The pontiff accepted the crystal necklet and put it on as though being invested with a chain of office. He cut a dignified figure, comfortable with speaking in front of huge crowds and having his words broadcast and published across the world.

  “You are the leader of the largest religious group on this planet, yes?” Sirius began.

  “Its earthly leader, yes.”

  “As such, many on this planet take notice of what you say?”

  “Possibly not as many of the college of cardinals as I would like, but broadly speaking, yes.”

  “Is it fair to say that religion has a large influence over the lives of those on this planet?”

  “To their benefit, I would hope,” the pope replied.

  “What makes you so sure?” Sirius asked with a look back toward the witnesses. “There have been many religions in human history, all claiming to possess the truth about existence, yes?”

  “All claiming to have touched something divine,” the pope corrected gently.

  “And because of this claimed access to the divine, each religion is given the authority to make rules for its followers that cannot be challenged,” Sirius went on. “Even when those rules cause harm?”

  “People sometimes interpret religious texts in flawed ways,” the pope said. He’d obviously had this argument before. “But the whole cannot be held responsible for the actions of a few extremists.”

  “Ah, extremists, of course. Tell me, are you an extremist?” Sirius pulsed, its forehead furrowing.

  “Certainly not.”

  “But you and your office have routinely condemned measures taken to slow the world’s overwhelming population growth and stop the spread of deadly diseases, haven’t you? You have reinforced opposition to those whom your religion perceives as different, yes? Where societies around the world are run by religious leaders, do they not seek to strictly enforce their own religious rules and code of ethics?”

  “Religion has been more of a force for good than for evil,” the pope insisted, clutching his white robe. “It has provided hope and moral guidance—”

  “You are not answering my question,” Sirius sent. “Shall we try something simpler? You believe that religion has been a force for good?”

  “I do,” the pope said.

  “Can you tell me, then, how many people have died in the name of religion since mankind first came into existence?” Sirius asked. “How many have been killed for holding views antagonistic to a religious authority? How many have been sacrificed to gods to ensure the next harvest or killed in wars over who is right? How many have died in pogroms and crusades?”

  “I don’t really know,” the pope said, less confident now.

  “The Pyramid analysis was not able to provide a precise figure,” Sirius sent, “but would it surprise you that it estimated at least sixty-five million?”

  The pope hesitated, but Sirius prompted him. “Please answer the question.”

  “No, it wouldn’t surprise me. But violence is not the sole province of religion. There have been causes antithetical to religions that are responsible for killing at least as many, if not more, than the worst holy war.”

  “So humans
will commit violence in the name of any cause?” Sirius asked.

  It turned to address the Supreme. “Plainly, humans have a capacity for believing in systems that are actively harmful to both themselves and the world around them. They are dangerous, because they are easily led to believe that anyone who is not like them is evil, to be either persuaded or destroyed. Just as their response to our arrival demonstrates.”

  For a moment, the wide screen showed what happened with the six jets again as the feed from Captain Oliver’s cockpit replayed.

  “Base, I’m also seeing military vehicles down there. Friendlies close. I repeat, friendlies close.”

  “We’re aware. Location is correct. Continue with the strike.”

  The six planes vanished into the cloudless desert sky.

  “I have no further questions,” Sirius sent and then stepped toward the console below the screen.

  Vega got up from its narrow seat and walked to the front of the courtroom. The pope took off his skullcap and wiped his head with the wide sleeve of his robe before replacing it. His hunched frame looked humble against the sinuous metal of the witness stand.

  “In a previous statement, you mentioned how all religions have touched the divine. Can you explain further?” Vega sent.

  The pope nodded. “I strongly believe we possess an urge toward the divine. Religions seek to express this urge, to help us lead better lives. We know there’s more to life than the material world, and occasionally we glimpse it.”

  “But those who practice religion do not have the facility to connect with the universal consciousness fully?” Vega offered, staring at the pope with its mysterious ink-black eyes.

  “God has different names, depending on the culture,” the pope said. “Humanity has been blessed with glimpses of truth many times. At the heart of all religions is the need to be more, to find good, to discover a balanced way of living in the world. We do not always succeed. Perhaps our interpretation is too… rigid at times. But this yearning for the divine is not wrong. It is, instead, the purest faith.”

  Vega nodded. “So faith is at the heart of what it means to be human? An intrinsic part of its nature?”

  “Yes,” the pope said. “The most essential part.”

  In the desert night, Gemini sat at a picnic table on folding chairs in Marina’s festival tent with the flap open. Laptops and lighting were plugged into a generator taken from the RV, and a small crowd had gathered outside. A satellite dish rested on the sand pointing at the stars.

  Marina felt anxious as she stood by the table and thought about what to tell Gemini. How much would the aliens be able to spot them doing? She also didn’t know if they would have enough time before the end of the trial, as no one really knew how long it would last. And, of course, she was more than a little unnerved by her psychic communication with Jake. So despite the presence of so many computer geeks and alien buffs, she just blurted it out.

  “Billy, Adam, I need you to find a way to hack the Pyramid and alter the percentages.”

  The arguments started almost at once. There were those among the UFO spotters who declared it would be impossible, given the vastly superior technology the aliens possessed. There were others who thought it would unethical to even try. Both groups were immediately shouted down by the larger numbers who wanted to work out exactly what might be involved. Suggestions ranged from worms to denial of service attacks, Trojans to simply brute forcing the passwords.

  “There’s no point in a frontal assault,” Adam said, and the silence was almost instant.

  Billy nodded. “Too much processing power to overcome. Plus, we have no idea what kind of code it uses, or even if it uses code in the first place.”

  Marina felt like a proud sister. Most of the time, it was easy to think of Gemini as a little awkward, a little short on friends, a little weird. Exactly the sort of people who might want to hang out with her. Yet here, with the few people who really understood what they did, it was as though they were rock stars. Maybe not good-looking rock stars. Possibly even drummers. But rock stars nonetheless.

  “We need to think differently,” Adam said, taking off his baseball cap and uncovering his Afro. “At the end of the trial, this computer is going to run the analysis on the original bunch of data, right?”

  “Bound to get the same result,” Billy said, crossing his arms in his gray tracksuit. “It’s just being done for the sake of this Supreme thingy.”

  “But what happens if we give it fresh evidence?” Adam grinned.

  “I like it,” Billy said.

  Marina looked at them. “Do you want to explain that for those of us who aren’t you?”

  Billy frowned as though it should have been obvious. Adam did the actual explaining.

  “The computer downloaded all the data we’ve produced as a species, so let’s get it to replace this with a fresh download. Except this time, we change things a little, delete enough damaging evidence to tip the balance. The dark net alone should do it if we manage to take it out.”

  Billy tapped his middle finger slowly on the picnic table, and his pi tattoo bounced up and down. “We don’t know exactly what algorithms the aliens are using; they’d probably make Google’s look like child’s play.”

  His finger tapped faster and faster until the pi symbol became an oscillating blur.

  “But let’s assume they rate the worst actions of humanity at minus one hundred, and the best at plus one hundred. Probably, there’s enough minus-one-hundred stuff lurking on the dark net that, if removed, would tip the overall percentages in our favor.”

  “Easy peasy,” Adam said, punching Billy lightly in the arm.

  For the few remaining puzzled faces, Billy carried on.

  “The normal internet we look at with search engines is only the tip of the iceberg. Underneath is the deep web, around five hundred times bigger than the surface web. Most of this deep web is legit, like online banking, or e-mails, but a portion of it is called the dark net.”

  “Where a lot of the really dodgy stuff goes on,” Adam said. “So we target the nasty stuff you can’t see.”

  “And the nasty stuff you can, in case we need to delete more to tip the odds.”

  “Assuming we can clean up the web,” Marina said, “we still have a big problem. How do we get the alien computer to do another download?”

  “It’s a computer, designed to be interfaced with,” Adam said, putting his hands behind his head.

  “Which just leaves one issue.”

  “Access,” Gemini said in unison.

  Again, Marina gave them a blank look and waited for the translation.

  Billy obliged. “The easier a system is for users, the easier it is for us to get into.”

  “And with a system designed to only work for aliens?” Marina asked.

  “It only works for aliens with psychic powers, right?” Adam said. “Which means it’s probably not password protected. They’ll assume if you have the right capacity, if you can, I don’t know, feel right to it, you’re meant to be able to work it.”

  Marina caught it. “And we have Jake. But from what you’re saying, he’d need to be there to work it. And we don’t know if he has any idea how to.”

  “He’d need to be there anyway,” Adam said. “If we want to influence it, we’d need feedback on what’s working and what isn’t. Then we can talk him through it.”

  “You mean I can talk him through it?” Marina guessed. She was the best placed to handle that side of things but probably the least qualified to explain the technical details. It would be a kind of technological game of telephone, with dreadful results if it went wrong.

  “Don’t worry,” Adam said. “We’ll explain it to you.”

  “And you know all about making alien supercomputers work properly?” Marina asked.

  Billy smiled. “Even as kids we could make Vista do what we wanted. How hard can it be?”

  It wasn’t an answer that made a lot of sense to Marina, but the other computer gee
ks there displayed every confidence in Gemini, and… well, this was their territory. So she nodded and let them get on with it. For now, this appeared to involve e-mailing fellow hackers across the world.

  Marina only had one job left. She needed to wait for Jake to connect again and then explain his part in all this.

  In the upstairs private bar of the Red Lion English pub in the Arbat District of Moscow, Vladimir Smyslov and his cohorts were knocking back vodka, shooting pool, and occasionally glancing up at the large screen on the wall. Ten glasses had recently been raised to toast the pope as he left the stand.

  “Nice job!” Vladimir’s voice boomed across the room. A bear-like man with expert skills in martial arts, he liked to think of himself as cuddly-yet-ferocious when required. When Gemini’s encrypted e-mail arrived on his phone, he lifted his hand to silence his young team of elite hackers. He read the e-mail and smiled at the scale of the challenge.

  Gemini had helped him out with a small problem connected with the American election, and he was glad they’d turned to him in the world’s hour of need.

  “Gentleman, we have work to do. To your stations please.” He stepped to the right of the bar and unlocked a heavily fortified metal door, turning to the barman before entering.

  “Boris, a jug of coffee, black as you can, and a double round of caviar blinis.”

  Inside the hidden chamber, ten chairs were in position around a bank of sophisticated technology, including the latest military toys from friends in the Kremlin, customized servers and laptops, and direct satellite links to use them on.

  “Gents, listen carefully. This is our biggest test yet, don’t let me down!”

  As Boris walked in carrying a large jug of coffee and the tray of blinis, each member of the team sent encrypted e-mails to at least three hacker associates. These three also contacted at least another three, and on it went, the numbers multiplying rapidly.

  Thirty, ninety, three hundred, nine hundred, and in addition to the other networks Gemini had tapped into it, within twenty-five minutes, ten thousand hackers were hard at work putting their plan into action.

  Professor Allen took the witness stand in her navy jacket and silk neck scarf, the crystal necklet partially hidden. The preeminent ethical philosopher looked distinguished with her gray hair and blue eyes that shone with a keen intelligence as she glanced around the court.