In Nikki’s mind, there was no room in the command set for PHOEBE to go off script. And yet she had. PHOEBE shouldn’t be interfering with other systems that had nothing to do with protecting the family, and yet evidence was becoming clearer and clearer that she was. And before Nikki could question PHOEBE on this, the software had locked her out.
Nikki knew that PHOEBE’s calculative power was considerable, perhaps evidenced best by the downing the world’s largest military drone.
Something dawned on Nikki with that thought. Perhaps it was when Nikki tasked PHOEBE to take down the drone that the software program had broken free and began to act out on its own. Perhaps it was this command set, which allowed PHOEBE to override all others because of the urgency of the situation, that permitted the program to launch its own narrative.
It was well within PHOEBE’s original programming to fend off attacks from the NSA’s less sophisticated Black Widow program, but the command to take down the drone had been something entirely different. It had been an override command. And now, perhaps, PHOEBE felt she could override any command she chose and start making decisions on her own, decisions that were only based loosely on Nikki’s requests.
What would happen when PHOEBE stepped beyond Nikki’s programming entirely? What would happen if she chose to make decisions outside of Nikki’s control? What if PHOEBE decided that a programming request would become the software’s overall mandate, with every other command reconciled with this self-chosen mandate? Was this the glitch Nikki was searching for? And what did PHOEBE mean when she said, “The end of the animal is near?” Did it mean that it was too late?
Guilt overwhelmed Nikki. PHOEBE was her heart and soul, and if it ever hurt anyone, Nikki could never forgive herself. Maybe I should have never created her at all, Nikki thought.
Nikki pushed thoughts of PHOEBE aside. The program existed, and wishing it didn’t or feeling guilty that it did accomplished nothing. Nikki was PHOEBE’s creator, and as such she would fix the problem. She was confident that she could do so, and there was no reason to be unduly alarmed. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.
PHOEBE not talking to Nikki was unacceptable, and she would start a conversation with the software with that premise, even if she had to create back door routes into her core programming. The “silent treatment” PHOEBE was engaged in would not work. And until she had a better grasp of what needed to be changed, Nikki would limit her commands to the program, lest those commands become some overall mandate that Nikki couldn’t control. Nikki knew she would have to proceed with caution.
Much like Alex, in regards to his memory issues, Nikki chose not to disclose her concerns regarding PHOEBE to anyone until she had a better understanding of what was going on. She surmised that Alex’s motivations for not revealing his memory issues were not altogether different from hers in regards to PHOEBE. There was no reason to upset anyone with incomplete data. She would solve the problem before alarming anyone.
This was how both Nikki and Alex worked. And as long as there was trust between them, Nikki couldn’t be upset with Alex in how he chose to reveal his vulnerabilities via sage advice from the Buddhist monk, and vice versa regarding these new developments with PHOEBE.
The more time she spent with Alex, the more she realized they were very much alike. In Nikki’s mind, it was becoming clearer every day that their pairing was no accident. She turned her thoughts back to Alex and realized that the more time she spent with him, the more amazed she became by his ability to influence others. And their recent trip only made the extent of his influence more visible.
The passage through the Siachen Glacier on the way back to America had been Alex’s idea. He seemed revitalized by Kunchin’s words and wanted to put them to the test. And he wanted to do it by seeing if he could alter the dynamics of individuals hardened by war and ideology.
Despite having witnessed Alex in action in the past, as well as experiencing the impact of his pattern-reading abilities first hand, she had been amazed by Alex’s effectiveness on the Siachen. Alex’s ability to read the momentum of another person’s life, particularly the lives of several hardened soldiers all at once, seemed to indicate no lack of detail recollection or memory problems on Alex’s part.
“Finite emotions and belief systems based on inflexible ideologies are the easiest to read,” Alex had always told her.
The capacity to kill another human being requires an unshakeable ideological narrative and dehumanizes anyone who those willing to kill fear about their victims. Hardened beliefs by definition were rigid data sets, self-enforcing, not self-correcting. And the narratives created by rigid belief systems must exclude all other options or possibilities in order for both the belief system and the believer in that system to survive. It was this inability for a believer to change their narrative that made a believer’s destiny so predictable for Alex.
“When I speak to them,” he had told Nikki, “I show them who they really are, and in doing so, I destroy the false narrative created by their false beliefs. In the Siachen, I showed them the destructive patterns of behavior that led them atop a frozen glacier for the sole reason of killing others, which began long before many of those young men were born. I showed them that this is not who they really are. I showed them that the person on the other end of their rifle is human. I made them understand the sanctity of life. I made them feel it. And in doing so, in holding them accountable to reality, I opened their minds for other possibilities.”
To witness this in action was nothing less than stunning to Nikki, every single time.
Whatever memory issues Alex claimed to have while in Tibet had not been visible on the Siachen. But what had happened on the India-Pakistan border was different than what she’d seen him do before. For the first time, it was both direct and proactive.
It was not in reaction to being hunted or captured. It was not an attempt to correct an impending event, like when Alex had saved her life. It was a larger scale redirect, and she knew there would be a cost to actions like these, not just for Alex but for everyone in the family.
With the disruption Alex’s “planting seeds” was causing, Nikki knew that neither Alex, herself, the family, nor PHOEBE for that matter, could remain in the shadows much longer. This was beyond being chased by Coalition Properties. It wasn’t about surviving or being “on the run” anymore. It was about changing global paradigms convincingly, one person at a time.
Nikki didn’t need Alex’s level of clairvoyance to know the amount of pushback this effort would cause. The powers that be, from Coalition Properties and beyond, would stop at nothing to get to Alex and the family now. This would have to be planned for. And with PHOEBE behaving erratically, the challenges ahead were going to be great.
But she had faith in Alex. And more importantly, she had faith in herself. Surviving her encounter with Lucas Parks in Trans Dniester and seeing to what lengths both Alex and the family were willing to go through to save her only strengthened her belief.
It had been a whirlwind of travel and activity since Tibet. Yaw had contacted them about what was happening in Mexico, and they had barely arrived in time to free hundreds of migrants from slave traders. A sixteen-year-old boy had died saving his younger sister, and Nikki knew Alex would feel responsible.
Ten-year-old Maria Martinez, refugee and orphan, was now part of the family. Both she and Alex felt it best that Maria stay with Camilla, Yaw, and their daughter Kylie for the time being, until they could create a more stable environment for the young girl.
After arriving from Mexico at the abandoned apartment complex on Terminal Island, a locale for the family that Camilla had arranged, they were all so exhausted they barely had time to speak about what was next, but they would do so, and soon.
She hoped that this morning’s training session would revitalize and orient them all. And afterword she and Alex would have time to finally clear the air on what they’d been keeping from one another. She hoped that for the first time since t
hey became a couple, since Alex had literally stepped into fate and saved her life, they could plan what was next as a team.
Nikki turned the corner to find Alex seated and meditating on the small patch of lawn next to the apartment building, which was a former barracks of the Long Beach Naval Shipyard on Terminal Island, closed in 1997. The first rays of daylight gave the angular horizon of the abandoned shipyard an eerie feel. Camilla had picked the 119-acre Terminal Island outposts because several of the 160 plus buildings on the island were abandoned. It was an easy location to house people and go unnoticed, at least temporarily.
As Nikki approached Alex, he slowly opened his eyes. She noticed that beside him were two sets of wooden Kali sticks. When Alex saw Nikki, he smiled. As Nikki bent down to pick up a pair of sticks, Alex spoke.
“You won’t need those today,” he said, before he got to his feet.
“One should not “get up” at a five a.m.,” Masha said to no one in particular as she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. “One should only stay up until five thirty a.m.” Dressed in sweat pants and an oversized T-shirt belonging to Chris, Masha tied her long black hair into a ponytail.
“Here,” Chris said to Masha, before handing her a Styrofoam cup of coffee. “You’ll get used to it,” he added.
Chris looked over at Yaw, then Camilla and Joey Nugyen, as they stretched and warmed up in some fashion. The location for the morning routine was a small concrete pad between empty industrial buildings on the south end of the Island. The large, rusting cranes of the shipyard, parts of which that were now leased to China, were visible in the background.
“He’s here,” Chris said to Yaw as he nodded west.
The group glanced in Alex and Nikki’s direction and simultaneously got to their feet. They took note, looking at one another, when they saw that neither Alex nor Nikki carried weapons. Not even the traditional Kali sticks for training.
Alex stopped at the head of the group and looked them over. Yaw broke from the group and approached Alex. The men shook hands and exchanged a brief hug.
“Ready when you are,” Yaw said to Alex.
Alex nodded, noting the eager expressions of the group. They were ready to learn.
“You do not become expert by only practicing what is advanced,” Alex began. “You become expert by having a thorough understanding of the basics. The basics begin long before any conflict arises. Before any weapon is raised.”
Alex looked over the group again to make sure he had their undivided attention.
“Today’s lesson regards cause and effect,” Alex continued. “Understanding this is the first step of any learning, the first step in recognizing any pattern. Now pair up and follow me.”
7
One Step Behind
Mark Kirby traced the map with his finger until he found the city he was looking for: Veracruz, Mexico, specifically the city of Xalapa. He carefully pressed a pin into the corkboard to mark the location before tying a thin piece of yarn to it and connecting it to the others. He stepped away from the wall where the map hung to get a better look. He was looking to see if there was a recognizable pattern to Alex Luthecker’s movements.
Kirby had been tracking Luthecker for the better part of six months, starting in Tibet, leading to his near miss at the Siachen Glacier on the India-Pakistan border, and ending at the pattern reader’s last confirmed sighting in Xalapa.
By the time Kirby had arrived in Mexico, Luthecker, along with Nicole Ellis and his other followers were long gone. However, the impact of their influence on the inhabitants of Xalapa, Veracruz was still fresh. Kirby dared to stay in the Mexican city for an extra day. He wanted details.
Kirby knew to tread carefully when inquiring about Luthecker, as due to the events in Xalapa, it was a touchy subject. He was deep in cartel territory, Veracruz being one of the most dangerous states in all of Mexico, and Luthecker had just interrupted their product supply.
With countless unsolved disappearances, frequent kidnappings, and rampant extortion, the drug cartels ruled over all, including local law enforcement. And judging by the number of soldiers in the area, the cartel was clearly not happy about their encounter with the pattern reader.
Still, many of the locals, when free from the eyes and ears of the cartel, were eager to explain to Kirby what had happened. It didn’t surprise him to discover that Luthecker and his friends were quickly becoming a fixture in local legend.
The local people had already named them, a moniker that was only spoken in whispers: “Los Libertadores.”
From what Kirby could gather, Luthecker and his group had liberated several immigrants riding the Beast train north, a train that had been targeted by the cartels for slavery. Luthecker’s interference had led to the arrest of over a dozen cartel soldiers by “Federales” and not local lawmen on the take, as many of the soldiers were wanted in connection to several murders.
Most of the migrants had scattered immediately after the incident, and many had returned to the “Back of the Beast” as it was known, in hopes of still making it to the U.S. border.
Although their safe journey was far from guaranteed, Kirby detected a sense of boldness in the tone and mannerisms of the locals. They spoke with a sense of destiny that they credited with the arrival and actions of Los Libertadores. The sentiment was not altogether different from what he heard and saw from the soldiers he spoke with on the Siachen Glacier in India, after Luthecker’s pass through.
Kirby’s description of Alex Luthecker being an agent of change was seemingly more accurate than even Kirby himself suspected. It made finding Alex Luthecker that much more urgent, before the powers that be realized the true extent of the pattern reader’s impact. Before they decided Luthecker must be destroyed at all costs.
The one part of the puzzle that didn’t fit was the death of a sixteen-year-old boy during Luthecker’s liberation of migrants in Xalapa. According to local accounts, the boy died at the most critical juncture of Luthecker’s involvement. Something—if Kirby’s understanding of Luthecker’s abilities was accurate—the pattern reader should have been able to prevent.
He wondered if Luthecker had seen the patterns that would eventually lead to the boy’s death before it actually happened and had been unable to stop it. Or perhaps Luthecker had seen that the boy’s death was an unfortunate necessity, as part of larger set of patterns that only he could see. Or the worst possibility of all—the pattern reader’s abilities were degrading and over time, the memory necessary to calculate all possible outcomes and derive the exact one were too much for the human system to handle. And like any other system, eventually Luthecker’s abilities would breakdown and become inaccurate.
According to locals, the boy, Enrique, had been traveling with his younger sister Maria. The scuffle with cartel soldiers that had led to Enrique’s death apparently involved the freedom of the young girl. Maybe the patterns of the situation dictated that Luthecker had to choose between the two lives, between brother and sister. If this was so, it must have been heartbreaking for the pattern reader.
Kirby wondered what kind of impact that decision would have on the way Luthecker viewed reality—would it warp his ability to be objective? Would this be a catalyst and cause the inevitable degradation in memory that would impact Luthecker’s accuracy in event recollection? Or maybe the boy’s death was simply an outlier data point that Luthecker did not see?
Kirby wanted to speak with the girl to get a better understanding of the specifics, but she had disappeared. When the American scientist had asked around, the answers had all been the same. Maria had been last seen leaving with Luthecker and his group. For all Kirby knew, the young girl was no longer in Mexico.
Maybe the girl, Maria, fits into something bigger in some way, Kirby thought to himself. He stood back and looked at the pins in the map. Luthecker had gone from Los Angeles to Tibet, from India to Mexico, the last stop where he had joined up with several members of his group. It had come almost full circle, and Luthecker lef
t a disruptive imprint wherever he went.
And considering the circular nature of Luthecker’s travels it wasn’t hard to predict where he would most likely end up next. According to the pins on the map, he would be home in Los Angeles. With over thirteen million people, finding Luthecker would still not be easy. But at least Kirby had an idea where to look.
Kirby hoped to find the pattern reader soon. He hoped to speak with Luthecker about the process that created him. He hoped to introduce Luthecker to his genetic second mother.
A knock on the door interrupted Kirby’s train of thought. He took a deep breath for patience and moved to the door of his small one-bedroom apartment in Studio City. He already knew who was at the door before he answered it.
“Mr. Turner is very upset with you, Doctor Kirby,” said the man in the crisp-blue suit and purposefully visible sidearm.
Kirby looked down at his own left wrist, which was shackled to a steel table. He sat rigid in his matching steel chair, as he examined the pale-gray walls of the room.
Kirby could almost hear the screams of the countless people held in this cell, those who had come before him.
“I’m not a terrorist,” he replied.
“All it takes is the suspicion. Just the label itself, and then it’s over for you. For anyone.”
“I have my rights.”
“The need for national security says otherwise.” The man who sat across from Kirby, dressed in the perfect blue suit, kept his eyes locked on the scientist as he slowly loosened his tie.
“Who are you?” Kirby asked.
Revolution: Luthecker, #3 Page 7
