by JC Ryan
“What would a thing like this cost?” he asked Roy.
“Mass-produced? Maybe fifty dollars,” was the nonchalant answer.
“No kidding! Do you have any more?”
“No, but it wouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours to make another one. That 3-D printer I bought is fast.”
“Roy, I think you just earned enough to pay your salary for the foreseeable future. If you want to stick around here instead of going back to CalTech, just say the word. Could you whip up three or four of those for me?” Daniel was as excited as a kid with a new science lab setup to have a little fun with one of his own. He could imagine several of his closest friends would want their own, too, as soon as they saw it.
“Sure. I’ll have them ready by tomorrow afternoon. I’ve got some other ideas, too,” Roy answered, pleased that his invention had made such a good impression.
“Great. Can you come back here tomorrow, say at 3 p.m.? I’ll clear my schedule. I’ve got some people I’d like to surprise.” Daniel couldn’t stop grinning. This was going to be fun!
“Yep. Oh, and I promised to show it to JR. After all he gave me the idea.” Roy wasn’t sure if JR was one of the people Daniel referred to. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, if so.
“Okay, I’ll invite him too. Thanks for bringing this to me, Roy. Write up a proposal for the next idea you have, and I’ll make sure you don’t run out of funds. Oh and let me know if you need more equipment and tools in your lab. I am happy to fund a lab that can produce stuff like this.”
Roy set off down the hall to his own lab, whistling. On the way he met Alica, who greeted him with a cheery, “Hi, Roy!”
Roy stumbled, not expecting the walking vision in front of him to address him directly. He blushed as if he’d been caught thinking impure thoughts about her, and that wasn’t far from the truth. Alica was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever had the opportunity to talk to, and he had more than once kicked himself for blowing it every time. He just couldn’t seem to get out more than an incoherent stammer.
“Uh, hi, Alica.”
Roy ducked his head and kept walking, but he stopped whistling. Alica stopped and turned to look at his retreating back. “What are you so happy about, Roy?” she said, barely containing her giggle.
He stopped and turned back to her, losing his grip on his laptop and juggling for a moment to keep from dropping it.
“J-just got some g-good news winged a-a-things,” he stuttered. Alica gave him a brilliant smile that almost buckled his knees.
“That’s nice!” she said.
“Uh, er, y-yes. Thanks.” Words failing him again, he turned and almost ran for his lab, leaving Alica shaking her head behind him. She’d never had a man act like that in her presence. Concluding he must be gay, Alica dismissed him from her mind and went into her own office.
Roy closed the door to his lab and slapped himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand. For the hundredth time, he told himself he needed to get hold of himself and stop being a moron any time a woman was around. Especially a beautiful woman like Alica! She liked him, at least she acted like she did. Maybe it was time to get help, or he was going to end up single for the rest of his life.
The following afternoon, Roy was happy again as he showed his toy to the assembled guests in Daniel’s office, fortunately all male. Luke, Sinclair, Nicholas and special guest JR were all there to see the remarkable little device that JR’s offhand remark had led to. The Spyfly was a big hit, each man wanting one for himself. Daniel had Roy hand out the three he had on hand to Luke, Sinclair and Nicholas, suggesting that they put them to good use, without specifying what exactly to do with them. Roy did so, showing them how to stream the video to their computers, make the fly do random fly-type activity, and recall it to their locations. No one could believe that such a tiny object could do what Roy had made it do. All he had to say about it was ‘that’s nanotechnology’.
Luke stayed behind as the others left, wanting to point out to Daniel how useful such a thing would be to law enforcement, and even more so to the CIA.
“Is it okay with you if I show this to Sam Lewis next time I talk to him?” he asked. “And, for that matter, what about Ryan? I’ll bet he’d like to license it for mass production if any government agency wants it. I can’t imagine them not wanting it, either.”
“Good idea, Luke. Go ahead,” Daniel responded.
It wasn’t long before Raj appeared in Roy’s office, begging for a Spyfly for his use. He wasn’t sure how he was going to deploy it where it needed to be, but it seemed to him that this was a way to finally get the truth about Area 51 and aliens. Roy detained him to talk about his next idea, a nanocomputer. Virtually everyone who had an interest in technology was aware that computers had been getting smaller and smaller, beginning with the room-sized computers of the 1950s, to the desktops of the late 1960s and finally the wristwatch-sized models introduced after the turn of the century. Raj was well aware that nanotechnology would represent another level of miniaturization, but he hadn’t spent much time researching how the interface between a dust-mote sized nanoprocessor and a human being would work.
“It wouldn’t be something you’d interact with,” explained Roy. “You’d build the programming into it and incorporate it into something you wanted to act on its own. For example, you could make a smart bullet with it, which could correct its path in flight, so you’d never miss. Or you could release a bunch of them like dust into a building to monitor activity in the building.”
“Wow, I don’t know if the Foundation would support that kind of research. Bullets, definitely not. Nothing that could be used for warfare. And probably not smart dust, either. The only thing I can think of to use that for would be industrial espionage, or maybe spying on your country’s enemies,” Raj said, though his eyes had lit up at the thought of smart dust in Area 51. That would be the way to do it!
“They seemed to like the Spyfly. That’s just a bigger model,” Roy objected.
“Hmm, you have a point. Let’s put that one on the shelf for now. Got any other ideas?”
“Yes. How about a sniffer that could detect harmful chemicals, or biological indicators?” Roy answered.
“That might fly. It would be used for self-defense, so the prohibition on warfare technology shouldn’t apply.”
“What you’re talking about is already being manufactured. I’m talking about other applications. Like, a monitor in the kitchen, where most accidents involving mixing two cleaning products together happen. It would be like a smoke detector, only it would detect harmful gasses like chloramine vapor, and alert the housewife to get out of the kitchen. Like that. Or biological. How many people can afford an assistive animal? Or might be allergic to them? Instead of a dog to alert you when your insulin is too low, you could have a nanotech sniffer in your pocket to do it.”
“That sounds like a winner. Why don’t you work on that? Would the same device be able to sniff everything?”
“No, it would have to be programmed to recognize different things, but maybe I could make it do several things. Like, the one that would sniff low insulin could maybe detect cancer, or a seizure that’s about to happen, or a heart attack. And the other one, for detection of harmful vapors in homes, maybe several different chemicals, or gas or smoke, just smaller.”
“Well, give it some thought. I’ll think about applications for microscopic computers and get back to you.” Raj was already absent in everything but body. He couldn’t wait to tell his conspiracy theorist network, some of whom were hackers of extraordinary skill, about these ideas. Maybe he’d get Roy to work on that smart dust after all.
“All right. Hey, thanks Raj.”
“Any time, my friend.”
The Sword of Cyrus Nanotechnology Program
Even before the goal of getting their agents into the Rossler Foundation came to fruition, Dalir was implementing the other half of his plan to destroy the West. Of course the technology coming to th
e Middle East would, as the public had been led to expect, greatly affect the quality of life for ordinary people in a positive way. It was the secret mission that required a hidden facility to implement. Dalir hoped that his agents inside the Rossler Foundation could find some research that would allow his scientists back in Iran to craft a use for it that would be suppressed to the rest of the world; that is, a military use. Since the beginning of the Foundation, anything that could be put to use by terrorists was buried by the watchdog committees. That meant that when his scientists got their hands on the stolen technology, only Iran would have it. Iran and any allies he gave it to.
The first task was to find a location that was sufficiently obscure that no news of activity there would leak out into the world. He found what he was looking for in the Zagros Mountains, four hundred kilometers from the Persian Gulf, a city named Esfahan. Farming was the economic base, but the modern industries of steelmaking and oil refining, along with the traditional textile, food and metalwork, provided enough commerce in the bustling town of three-quarters of a million inhabitants to camouflage the comings and goings of strangers. Esfahan was recuperating from the devastation of the 9th Cycle virus that had cut its population and economy in half. Dalir’s henchmen located a large building suitable for remodeling into several labs, one of which was optimistically designed for the manufacture of nano-nuclear materials.
The terms of employment for the scientists who were recruited to work there were highly desirable. Families would be allowed to be with them, and luxurious living quarters would be provided in addition to generous pay. That those quarters would be in a walled compound with guards around it was secondary to the fact of them. Virtually none of the scientists had previously had the wealth to provide such luxury to their families, and so the inconveniences were swept aside. Did a wife need to go shopping? An escort was provided, so that she could feel safe. The escort also supervised the outing so that she could make contact with no one, but what did that matter to any of the women? It was a small price to pay for their new wealth and luxury. Did a child need an education? Tutors were readily available, and the finest education that could be had was provided at the school within the compound. Dalir saw to every eventuality. There would be no outside contact; none at all.
A few of the scientists that Dalir wanted on board were not cooperative at first. True to his nature, he found ways. Some needed only to be bribed with extra money. Others found themselves following their families to Esfahan rather than stay behind after the family was kidnapped. One or two had to be shown film of their wives or children with guns to their heads. Sooner or later, everyone agreed to relocate and ordered to be happy.
~~~
Once the undercover agents in America began sending coded information and occasional photos, the scientists’ work was cut out for them. Their task was to decode the messages and comb the incomplete information for anything useful, sharing data to build a more complete picture. Unfortunately, there were large gaps in the information. Too large to infer what was missing. In spite of pep talks, offers of bonus payments and threats, nothing was emerging that would further Dalir’s ultimate cause.
A risky message was sent to each agent: Why is this information incomplete? The answer came back: They have us working on tightly segmented sections of the information. No one has all of it except a security committee.
Reza Mokri opened his diplomatically-sealed mailbag one day to find a coded message inside from Dalir. He was to find out who comprised the security committee for the nanotechnology program - they needed an insider. All of the work to find, train and insert agents into the Rossler Foundation would be for nothing if they couldn’t break the security. To do so, one of the committee must be suborned, but who?
It took Reza nearly a week to search out the information without drawing attention to himself. When he had it, it wasn’t good news. Most of the members were core founders of the Rossler Foundation; Daniel, Sinclair, Raj and Luke would be impossible to get to. That left the program manager, Karsten Adler, and the head researcher, Roy James. Reza made it his mission to get acquainted with both of them, to be able to make a recommendation.
Karsten was married, with two children, he learned. Not a good candidate. Reza turned his attention to Roy and found that he had a reputation of not liking women. Reza’s message to Dalir was that their best bet was to approach Roy with al-fahsha’, an obscene act, which was one of the three Islamic terms for homosexuality. One of the male agents would have to sacrifice himself for the cause.
Ironically, had Roy been gay, Reza himself would probably have been the best candidate based on his good looks. But, as the agent who approached him discovered quickly, Roy was not gay. His nervous demeanor around women meant that he was effectively cut off from their company in any romantic sense, but he’d rather do without than turn to a man, and he made it abundantly clear to the agent, who sported a broken nose for some time. The man blamed it on running into a doorway in the dark.
When that approach failed, they tapped the woman with the mildest personality, someone who could easily feign extreme shyness, to befriend Roy and eventually seduce him. Even demure Laleh Farshid was too much for Roy, though.
She sat down beside him in the company cafeteria for a coffee break one day, and he did his best to be friendly, but everything he said seemed to turn out wrong. By the end of the break, he was drenched in sweat and she was baffled at some of the inane remarks that had come out of his mouth. Now every time he saw her coming he practically ran the other way. Eventually she cornered him in an elevator.
“Roy, have I offended you?” she asked, her eyes downcast.
“Uh, offended? Me? N-n-no, uh, wh-why?” he stuttered.
“Do you not wish to talk with me, to be friends? I think you do not like me.”
“N-no. I m-mean, yes, I l-like you okay,” he said. Miserable, he could summon no other words.
Laleh reported to her handler that she may be able to seduce Roy someday, but it would not be soon. Another alternative would have to be found.
It was almost as if they had planned it exactly as it came down. Alica was the best choice for a seduction of anyone but Roy James. Since she worked closely with Karsten Adler and he was their best hope, she could make it seem natural that she would be attracted to him. All that stood in her way was his family, but, as she remarked to her handler in her report, any man can have a vulnerability. In Karsten’s case, it was a wife who was satisfied with her two children and therefore no longer gave him enough attention in the bedroom, preferring in fact to sleep in separate rooms. The classic ‘my wife doesn’t understand me’ situation worked in her favor after Alica encouraged Karsten to talk about his family. Inevitably, she learned that he was unhappy in his marriage, though he loved his wife still. He found in Alica a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on, literally.
By increments, Alica drew Karsten closer to her. She did a stellar job in her duties, leading him to take her to lunch now and then as an extra thank-you. In return, she invited him for dinner at her apartment on an evening when she knew his wife had other plans. The setting was cozy, the candlelight romantic; her peck on his cheek as he left a welcome sign of affection to an affection-starved man. It was a calculated acceleration on her part. Alica knew better than to throw herself at Karsten - it wouldn’t be subtle enough. When he started touching her casually whenever he came to her desk to speak with her, though, she knew the time was right.
One evening, as the workday came to a close, Karsten found Alica weeping softly at her desk.
“My dear Alica, what is the matter?” he asked, drawing her out of her seat to stand in front of him.
“Nothing. Please don’t concern yourself.” Alica dabbed at her eyes, a sob catching in her throat.
“No, please! Tell me. Is it something I can help with?” he insisted.
“I don’t think so.” She sighed, looked up at him with swimming eyes and found his tender upon her. “All right, I will tell y
ou. This is the anniversary of my husband’s and son’s deaths. I miss them so much!” she finished, her voice going up in a soft wail.
“Oh, my dear friend,” Karsten said. “I’m so sorry.” He moved closer, put his arm around her. “There, there. Please don’t cry. What happened to them?”
In answer, she laid her head in the hollow of his shoulder, still weeping. “A tragic accident took them. Oh, if only I had been with them! Thank you, Karsten. You are such a comfort.”
His other arm surrounded her, and she felt his lips touch the top of her head. She snuggled closer. “I miss this, too,” she whispered. “Being close with a man. I’ve been so lonely.”
Karsten began trembling, and Alica knew it was only a matter of time before he would kiss her. Perhaps not tonight, since she was grieving for her husband, but soon. She would let him make the first move, and he’d never know he’d been seduced. He’d believe that he was the seducer.
That day came only a few days later, when Alica arrived at work to find flowers on her desk. There was no card, so she went into the inner office where Karsten’s desk was and asked him if he knew who had sent them.
“I thought you could use some cheering up,” he said. That such a beautiful woman would continue to grieve for a long-dead husband was a crime against nature. To his surprise, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
“They’re beautiful!” she said, beaming up at him with a heartbreakingly lovely countenance. He’d been dreaming of the way she felt in his arms ever since a few days before when he’d tried to comfort her. His automatic response was to put his arms around her, and there they stood, clinging together with her face tilted toward his. The kiss happened as if it were fated, and before he knew it, Alica was returning it with passion, inflaming his own. Who knows what might have happened right there in his office if the phone hadn’t rung suddenly?
Alica pulled away and fled to the outer office as Karsten answered his own phone. After handling the caller, he went to see if she was all right.
