Armen Gharabegian - Protocol 7

“All right,” Simon said harshly. “You’ve made your point.”

Andrew dropped his hand and thumbed a panel on the device. “Permanent erase, please,” he said.

“Erasure complete,” the device responded.

He dropped it casually on the couch. Simon shook his head, thoroughly chilled. “I had no idea it was that…extensive. That intrusive.”

Andrew shrugged. “Only a matter of time, really. It started almost fifty years ago with CCTV and Google Earth. I’m sure the government types would have liked to keep it to themselves, but that’s simply not possible. The tech is too common, too cheap, too easy to decrypt.”

Simon found himself a bit weak in the knees, despite all his training and discipline.

He felt like he had to sit down. “Good god,” he said.

“It’s not so much that someone is listening to every word you say,” Andrew told him, trying to be comforting in his own awkward way. “It’s that they can, if they have a reason to.”

“And you can stop that?”

Andrew nodded, and for the first time Simon saw the serious, even haunted man underneath the easygoing grad-student exterior. This man was a genius who had taken on a huge burden, who knew a secret that few others knew, and he took it very seriously. “Yes. I can keep the surveillance systems-all of them-distracted,” he said. “I fool some of them, I shield others. I basically make them not notice you, whether you’re moving or not, talking or not, broadcasting or not. What really protects you is the sheer size of the planet: seven billion people, every one of them with a digital signature. It’s just too much data to shift, even for the smartest AI ever grown. It’s too chaotic. And of course, my amazing brain is a big help, too.”

He grinned again, and the shadow disappeared from his eyes. Simon knew immediately he’d made the right choice. This young man, impulsive as he was, was clearly essential to his plan.

“How much would it cost me for the full treatment?” he said. “Actually, for me and a few others, traveling with me?”

Andrew did his best to look shrewd. He picked up the pad of paper and the pen, handling it as if it was an alien device. “I’m going to write down a figure,” he said playfully.

Simon grinned. “Oh, please do.”

Andrew scrawled a number on an empty page and made a flourish “pound” sign in front of it. Then he ripped the page free and handed it facedown to his colleague. Simon tried to keep a straight face as he took it and turned it over.

It was pathetically low. He could actually have covered it out of his savings with barely a dent. I had no idea how low on the hog he was living, he said. He even felt a little guilty about it.

“I think I can work with that,” he said dryly and tucked the paper in his pocket.

“Great. Only one other condition, then.”

“Oh, really?”

“I’m coming with.”

Simon didn’t even have to think about that one. He shook his head firmly. “No,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Andrew, no. Do I even have to tell you that there might be danger involved? Physical danger, as well as danger from the authorities that could ruin your career or put you in prison?”

“No, in fact, you do not have to mention that. I was assuming.” He plopped down and hunched his shoulders, thinking furiously. “Look, I know I can write my own ticket, work for any company or government in the world, and make more money than God. I get that. But…I don’t want to. I don’t want to work in some super clean facility for the rest of my life, or sit behind a desk and guide some other team of researchers who are having the real fun. I’m twenty-six years old, Simon. This is when I’m supposed to take risks. Besides, the level of invisibility you’re looking for? Can’t do it remotely. The whole point is that you can’t be detected remotely, so how could I possibly rig it that way?”

Simon glared at him. “I’m not prepared to put you at risk.”

Andrew looked to the side and gave him an elaborate shrug. “Then I guess you’re prepared to stay at home and get listened to. Forever.”

Simon kept glaring. Andrew did the same…for a moment. Then he broke away with a laugh and hopped up again. Simon looked away and tried not to smile. Damn jumping jack, Simon thought, amused despite his annoyance.

“Look,” Andrew said. “Here. A lovely parting gift or two.” He opened his backpack and pulled out a set of unusual-looking cell phones-big, bulky devices compared to the paper-thin phones that were popular before voice threads replaced the entire tech. They looked like something from the turn of the century, covered with buttons and speakers and a tiny little screen. Simon thought they were almost…quaint.

“You need to use these from now on,” Andrew said. “You and anyone else you will consider in your plan-which, by the way, now includes me.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Right. These are shielded. No one can track your whereabouts or the number you are calling from. The number is different each time.”

“But what about incoming info?”

“No one will be able to call you from a regular phone, except for the other two phones like it that are in my office. I can reach you, but a stranger can’t. If you end up calling someone, their conversation may be picked up, but yours will be scrambled.”

Simon shook his head in disappointment that it had to go this far. He reached over and took the two devices from Andrew. “I appreciate everything you’re doing. Can you make more of these?”

“As many as you need, included in the price.”

“Thanks.”

Andrew suddenly brightened. “Oh! And check this out!” He dug into his backpack and pulled out another item: an old-fashioned diving wristwatch with a rather heavy, oval face. “Looks like a twentieth-century watch, right? No. Totally secure communicator, only two other watches just like it. For like private short-range communication between team members. Waterproof, shockproof, heat- and cold-proof, a battery that will last a lifetime. You couldn’t break these babies if you tried.”

Simon couldn’t help but smile at his sheer enthusiasm. “Interesting,” he said. “I suppose I could use half a dozen of those as well.”

“Cool!”

But then Andrew must have seen something in his friend’s face. His own expression suddenly softened. “Listen,” he said. “I know you think you’re protecting me, and I appreciate it. But even I can tell that whatever is going on is way above your head. You need help.”

Simon shook his head. “Andrew, I-”

“Professor. Simon. You need to trust somebody. I can see that. And you can trust me.”

Simon nodded. “Let me think about it,” he said. “And let me make one more call on this old, bad phone. Then you can dispose of it for me.”

“All right, then,” Andrew said.

Simon dialed the number from memory. It was answered immediately.

“Hey,” he said to the voice on the other end. “It’s me. Are you free this evening? Seven o’clock or so?” He paused for a moment, nodding into the phone. “Yeah, I’d rather talk about it face-to-face. Just a little project of mine you might be interested in.”

The voice on the other end was Ryan. “Nice to hear from you stranger-didn’t recognize the number…you alone or should I expect a guest?”

“Maybe a few…” said Simon.

“A few? Well then, a few for dinner,” Ryan said.

“Dinner it is,” said Simon, ending the call.

“Was that Ryan?” Andrew asked.

Simon nodded. Their colleague, Ryan, was one of the foremost experts when it came to Remote Access Intervention.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Andrew said, “Because not too many people can manipulate remote satellites like he can.”