Revolution: Luthecker, #3

by Keith Domingue

  “I know.”

  “How on earth could you create such a thing?”

  There was contempt in Muranaka’s question, and Nikki felt it. But it was a question Nikki had asked herself countless times since returning from Tibet.

  Muranaka asking Nikki the question directly had the effect of jarring her thinking. It was like a challenge by a rival.

  It forced Nikki to go back to Kunchin’s words in Tibet, connecting the monk’s philosophy and her rival programmer’s directness.

  Then it dawned on her. Developing PHOEBE was her gift. Her magic. And just like Alex had to take responsibility for his abilities, Nikki had to take responsibility for her own. PHOEBE was not so much a program as she was a natural evolution.

  Nikki wondered if the guilt she had been so overwhelmed with lately was similar to what Alex had gone through, when he began to realize the impact of his own gifts on others.

  The realization of this lifted some of the guilt. Nikki had watched Alex’s growth from an introvert filled with self-doubt to a confident leader, and she had held his hand through much of it. It was in this, she realized that just like it was for Alex, her guilt was misplaced.

  And then the floodgates of realization broke open. It was not just the guilt of creating PHOEBE, or the guilt of working in the oil futures business, but it was the concept of guilt itself, the guilt she had felt ever since she was a child, about how much smarter she was than her parents, her hometown, and all the boys, all of it; it was all misplaced.

  She realized in the same way that Alex had—she couldn’t make the world a better place by being reactive, withholding her gifts, and choosing not to participate. It all made sense to her now. And her reaction to this realization was just as quick.

  No more, she thought to herself. Nikki would not apologize for creating PHOEBE. She would not be made to feel guilty for all that she was capable of. She would not apologize for any choice she had made, mistake or not, to anyone, ever again. And she would protect PHOEBE like it was her child, because in many ways, the program was.

  She abruptly turned toward Muranaka. “I created PHOEBE because I could. And I did it because I wanted to. And I can tell you right now, her creation was absolutely necessary.”

  “She needs to be destroyed before she destroys the world as we know it.”

  “She needs to be guided. No different than a child. You’re right, she doesn’t have a moral compass. So I’m going to give her one.”

  “And you think that compass is your friend Alex, the guy who’s single handedly become the Coalition’s worst nightmare.”

  “No. I think it’s you. It’s what Alex has done with people time and time again. I see that now. And I think it’s why PHOEBE put us in the same room together. Because somewhere along the way in your digital life, PHOEBE must have been watching you, and she made the decision that you were good, and we can’t do this without you.”

  Muranaka took a step back. “Wait—what? What are you talking about?”

  “I want you to look at something,” Nikki said, before she turned back to the monitors.

  She typed rapidly on the keyboard, and the images on the half-hexagonal arrangement of monitors changed, focusing only on six buildings in the downtown Los Angeles area.

  Muranaka recognized the images right away. “That’s the Coalition Fortress,” she said.

  “Yes it is,” Nikki answered. “PHOEBE showed me its design, unprompted, shortly before she shut me out and put us face to face. From the looks of it, it’s impenetrable.”

  “It’s designed to be that way.”

  “I want you to look closely,” Nikki added.

  Muranaka moved closer to the monitors.

  The entire Coalition Fortress property looked like a small city made entirely of light. The walls of the buildings and the streets, the entire topography of the miniature city-state were solid sheets of illumination that hummed with a life of their own.

  “Why does it look solid?” Muranaka asked.

  “It looks solid because there’s so much digital information moving around,” Nikki replied. “There’s more digital information moving around in this patch of real estate per square foot than anywhere else in the world.

  “It’s high-density information at a level we’ve never seen before. It’s an unbelievable amount of data being gathered, recorded, and interpreted. And what you see here is still not a complete picture. This is only the Fortress complex. This doesn’t include the people. It’s missing the flesh and blood.”

  Nikki hit several keys on the keyboard.

  The city of light was suddenly filled with small dots of beating red, some of them moving slowly about the city, some remaining in place. And every red dot had countless electronic tentacles attached to it, connecting it to the angular sea of electronic data.

  “Here’s what you have to understand,” Nikki continued. “What it is that I’ve just managed to get my head around right now, through our conversation. In order for the Fortress security system to accomplish what the Coalition wants it to, which is complete control, it’s going to have to develop its own language, if it hasn’t already,” Nikki said.

  Muranaka figured it out right away.

  “Holy shit,” Muranaka replied. “You’re saying it’s going to be just like PHOEBE.”

  “Yes. And it’ll happen very soon. But with a mandate defined by past actions that are programmed by the largest weapons manufacturer in the world, a corporate system that’s designed to conquer every market and destroy every enemy,” Nikki added.

  “Holy fuck.”

  “Yeah. Holy fuck is right. It’s the worst kind of digital Karma. You think PHOEBE’s dangerous, wait until this system gets loose in the world. You asked me, how could I create such a thing? How could I create PHOEBE? I’ll tell you what’s more important than how. I’ll tell you why. I created PHOEBE to deal with this. Right here, right now. Balance, Rika. The universe provides it.”

  “You want to use her to stop it.”

  “Yes. We don’t have a choice. It’s the only way. And that’s where you come in.”

  Muranaka looked at Nikki.

  “You work for the Coalition. You have the security clearance to get onto the Fortress. I need you to take this—” Nikki quickly removed a thumb drive from the side of her keyboard, “—and give it to Alex. He’ll know what to do. He’s being held there right now.”

  “Are you crazy? If he’s being held, I can’t get near him.”

  “Yes you can. And that’s not all. I want you to talk to him. I want you to let him read you.”

  “No way.”

  “You have to. You have to let him look deep into your soul and reveal to you your inner truth. And once you understand your destiny, and the true reason behind every choice you’ve ever made, I have faith that you’ll understand who and what we are, and more importantly, who you are, and that you’ll do the right thing. You’re the only one who can do this. It has to be you.”

  “You realize that you’re asking me to betray my employer.”

  “I’m asking you to save the world. You of all people understand how serious this is.”

  Muranaka paused. Nicole Ellis was right. The threat was real—there was no way around it. They had to stop it, and this was the only way.

  “You do realize that this is batshit,” Muranaka finally replied.

  “Admit it. You’re more than curious. You want to face Alex. Search your heart. You’ve been waiting for this moment all your life. To find out why you’re here and where you fit in.

  “And you’ve been waiting for this moment, even though you didn’t know exactly what this moment was going to be, when it would come, or what the meaning behind it all would be.

  “It’s the definition you’ve been searching for to the question that you never could quite put a finger on, but you always knew it was out there, and you’ve searched for this all your life for one simple reason, the same simple reason that I did—you want to know.”


  “You’re assuming a lot about me. You’re assuming that I can even get to him, for starters.”

  “You can if you want to. We both know it.”

  Muranaka looked at the thumb drive in her hand. “This puts PHOEBE past the Coalition security firewalls, doesn’t it?”

  “This is putting a stop to the destruction, and we don’t have time for PHOEBE to go through five trillion calculations to get there. This is creating balance in the universe, before it’s too late.”

  “And what are you going to do?”

  Nikki looked across the room.

  In the corner lay her Kali sticks, the ones Master Winn had given her when she reached expert level proficiency, the ones made of aluminum, inscribed with her name, and for combat use only.

  “Prepare for the final battle. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  “You understand that Coalition Assurance has guns, right?” Muranaka asked as she followed Nikki’s sight line.

  Nikki turned to her. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t be far behind you. We won’t be far behind you.”

  “How do you know I won’t just steal this? How do you know I won’t just run?”

  “Where can you run, Rika?”

  Muranaka swallowed hard. Everything Nikki Ellis had just said about her was true, and it rattled her to the core, so much so that she felt disoriented.

  Muranaka carefully put the thumb drive in her pocket. “Is that it?” Muranaka asked.

  “No. There’s one more thing,” Nikki said. “PHOEBE gave me a message that I want you to share with Alex. It’s one that I’ve been trying to make sense of. It’s the only time she’s ever spoken to me unprompted, and she hasn’t said a word to me since.”

  “What did she say?”

  Nikki looked up at Muranaka. “She said, the end of the animal is near.”

  29

  Brinksmanship

  Captain Vladimir Dimitrov looked at the coded message a second time with relief. It was what he hoped for, a stand by order. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his hands from shaking.

  A complete stand down order would have been the best option, but at least this was the first step in stopping what would be assured destruction of life on earth as everyone knew it.

  Dimitrov assumed, he hoped, that this whole incident had been a drill, and the next message would be to stand down. And hopefully that order would come before too long.

  Now in his late forties, Dimitrov had been commander of the nuclear sub OПOРA, or Reliance in English, for the last nine years, first serving as a weapons officer then as the vessel’s executive officer, or XO, for the last five years of his tenure.

  He had been promoted to captain after the man he served under, Captain Greschenko, retired, allowing him to command his own vessel for the first time, a goal he had set for himself when he was only a teenager. Choosing to be an officer on a nuclear-powered submarine, particularly one equipped with nuclear strike capability, was a total commitment to the vessel, one that required a man to surrender his entire life in service of his ship and crew.

  And this commitment did not change when the sub Dimitrov commanded was sold from the Red Navy to the oligarch Ivan “the Barbarian” Barbolin.

  The transaction, which had happened less than a year ago, had been swift and unannounced, and it had taken Dimitrov and his crew by complete surprise. The Russian fleet of nuclear submarines was the prize of the Russian Navy and was considered the biggest deterrent to the Coalition-made U.S. arsenal of sea-based nuclear weaponry.

  The transaction was considered top secret and kept out of the press to avoid political scrutiny, and the transition from state run to privately run was unnoticeable at the chain of command level.

  Once the transaction was complete, the Barbarian had simply turned around and leased the war machine back to the Russian Navy. The reason behind the transaction was a source of speculation.

  The relationship between the Barbarian and the Russian President dated back to when both men were officers in the KGB, and it was thought that the president was in debt due to decreased oil production, and the sale offered him a much needed cash infusion. In return for this cash infusion, the Barbarian had himself a nuclear submarine.

  The recent call for the OПOРA to change course from international waters in the Pacific and directly toward the west coast of America had made Dimitrov and his crew very anxious. Mostly because the order did not come from the Russian Naval Command—it had come from Ivan Barbolin himself.

  The oligarch had never involved himself with the submarine’s mission status before. Neither Dimitrov nor any of the members of the crew had even met the man.

  The most disturbing part of the order came with the command to arrive off the coast of California on full tactical strike alert.

  The Barbarian, a private citizen, albeit a very rich one, was coming within inches of starting a nuclear war, with the purpose behind it unclear.

  Was the notoriously brutal businessman using a nuclear threat to enforce a business deal? Captain Dimitrov shuddered at the thought.

  The OПOРA had reached within striking range of the targeted city of Los Angeles less than twenty minutes before Dimitrov received the standby command. The tension that had filled the ship throughout the journey had lessened after this, and the speculation was that there had been tense negotiations going on between the rival U.S. and Russian governments or private institutions, and the OПOРA was there to enforce the deal.

  If both Russian and U.S. citizenry knew how often these alerts took place, they would enjoy far more sleepless nights, Dimitrov thought to himself.

  He took one last look at his crew before turning over command of the sub to his XO, deciding that he would go back to his quarters and rest. He had not slept in the last thirty-six hours, and the standby order allowed him to feel his fatigue.

  He was turning to leave when he caught his fast approaching XO out of the corner of his eye. He could see by the look on his XO’s face that it was something serious.

  “What is it?” Dimitrov asked.

  The XO stood at attention in front of his commanding officer. Dimitrov noticed that the XO was white as a sheet and covered in sweat.

  “Well, spit it out,” Dimitrov said.

  The XO took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. “We have a problem with one of the missiles, sir.”

  “A problem?”

  “Silo four. It won’t disarm. It’s started its countdown to launch, and I can’t stop it.”

  “I thought it would be bigger,” the Barbarian said as he sat down across from Glen Turner.

  He took one more look around the Coalition CEO’s office, with its earth tones and mismatched art, before returning his focus to the man who had held him captive only an hour earlier.

  “We’re not czars or kings in this country. We’re businessmen. We don’t need to gold plate everything,” Turner responded.

  “Perhaps if you did, your people would understand you more.”

  “I should throw you out the goddamn window.”

  “The standby order is temporary unless you meet my terms. I recommend you negotiate quickly.”

  “We’ll find your sub.”

  “Not before it reduces this city to ash.”

  “We both know you’re not going to do that.”

  “You heard the soothsayer. I am prepared to die and take all of the Coalition and most of the American west coast with me.”

  “Stop with the posturing. So I got you, then you got me. It’s a game our countries have been playing since the end of the Second World War, and now we’ve just taken the game private. What do you really want, Ivan?”

  The Barbarian didn’t answer right away. He pretended to clean his fingernails. It was the passive aggressive tactic of a man who believed he now had the upper hand.

  The Barbarian finally spoke without looking up from his hands. “I want more money, of course. I want the freedom to go back to my country. I want the guarantee tha
t I remain untouched, always, and no matter where I travel in the world.”

  “Fine.”

  The Barbarian looked up. “And I want the pattern reader.”

  “So at what point did you know Ivan had a nuclear sub? How did you know it would be that exact vessel and not, say a ship with missiles?” Kirby asked Alex Luthecker.

  He had quietly entered Luthecker’s cell only moments before.

  “Does anyone know that you’re in here with me?”

  “You already know the answer to that question. I disabled all the audio and visual feeds to this room if that’s what you’re asking. And no one saw me. Let’s just say that everyone who’s anyone is a little bit preoccupied right now. The threat of nuclear war will have that effect on people.”

  “Well you did claim that mass extinction is imminent.”

  “You know I can’t tell if you have a really dry sense of humor, or if your ability to know so much forces you to be literal all the time.” Kirby examined Luthecker carefully as the two men sat across from one another.

  The pattern reader looked completely unfazed by his predicament and the events that were quickly unfolding around him.

  “Not much rattles you, does it? Is that a function of knowing the source behind all that rattles things in the world?” Kirby asked.

  “Is that what you really want to know before they discover you in here with me?”

  “You’re right. I don’t have much time.”

  “So why are you here?” Luthecker asked.

  “You know why. I want to know who I am and where I’m going, down to the last detail.”

  “Where do you choose to go?”

  “Wherever I have to in order to accomplish my goals, and I want you to help me avoid mistakes in order to expedite things. You played the Russian heavy, and you’re playing Glen Turner just as deftly, even though you’ve never met him. I have to assume you’ve been playing me all along as well, which, believe it or not, I have no problem with. In fact, I expected it.