Daniel Suarez - Influx

He spoke to it. “This is Jon.”

Chattopadhyay’s familiar voice came to him. “Jon, I have rather important news.” The voiceprint confirmed Chattopadhyay’s identity—that it wasn’t previously sampled voice snippets. Grady tapped aside the confirmation.

“Hey, Archie. News from the scavenger committee, I hope. I need that scanning tunneling microscope.”

“No. I am afraid your committee days are over, my friend.”

“Okay. Why’s that?”

“The guards are coming for you.”

Fear swept over him. “Coming for me—why?”

“A message was passed along from Guard Station Whiskey. You are apparently to be moved to BTC headquarters.”

Grady sat down in shock. “I don’t understand.”

“I have made my displeasure known to warden Theta.”

Grady’s thoughts raced. The idea of being released from this cell was exhilarating. But then came the potential reasons, none of which were encouraging. “Why would I be moved to BTC headquarters?”

“The prison relations committee has been discussing this very thing. There are two possible explanations: One, you’ve turned to their way of thinking.”

“Are you kidding? I want to burn this place to the ground.”

“Which I do believe. Or two, they badly need something from you and want to extend the olive branch to you until they get it.”

“Like I said: I want to burn this place to the ground.”

“Rumor has it that Director Hedrick is obsessed with your gravity mirror.”

“Says who?”

“Warden Theta. A friend of his at headquarters claims BTC researchers have made few advances to your work—despite a great deal of effort. And that BTC splinter groups are a growing threat. Hedrick apparently believes that mastery of gravitation is a key to lasting technological dominance of the world.”

Grady now knew that there was not one but three BTC organizations—splinters of the original bureau. Back at the turn of the millennium there had been some sort of schism between the BTC operatives harvesting technology in Asia and those back in Europe and North America. Apparently Asia had been hoarding key technologies, and soon the parent organization did as well. Before long they had separate portfolios and chains of command. Not long after the end of the Cold War, a Russian faction of the BTC also sprang into being. So there were now three separate and highly distrustful branches of the Bureau of Technology Control. Their rivalry occasionally flared into bloodshed—powerful incentive to remain one step ahead technologically.

Hedrick had been right about one thing only: Human nature remained in the Dark Ages.

“Hedrick apparently hopes that once you see what they’ve achieved, you will be swayed to join their effort.”

“He’s delusional.”

Chattopadhyay’s gentle laugh came across the line. “Ah, but my complaints to warden Theta notwithstanding, this is actually an opportunity we Resistors have been waiting upon for many years.”

“How is giving in to Hedrick an opportunity?”

“We don’t expect you to give in, Jon.”

Grady looked around his cell at all his hard-won comforts. “Then what happens when I get returned here? They fix the AI, and it starts in on me again.” Grady’s heart began to race. “I can’t go back to that, Archie.”

“We have no intention of seeing you returned to Hibernity, either. What we’re suggesting, my dear boy, is escape.”

“Escape?” He considered this. “Even if that’s possible, what about you and the others? I can’t just abandon everyone.”

“We know you will not abandon us. We want you to bring evidence to the outside world about the existence of Hibernity and the people in it.”

“Would it matter? The BTC might be secret, but it’s legally sanctioned.”

“Jon, most of the governments of the world have no idea the BTC exists—even much of your own government. The BTC is a relic of the Cold War. Forgotten. Mythological.”

“And if I did get word to someone—and if they believed me—what could they do about it? The BTC’s technology is so advanced, no one could force them to follow laws.”

“Do not underestimate the power of revelation; if existing governments knew there were great innovators hidden away, they might endeavor to rescue us. And the weight of all the world is very great indeed. There is a reason they hide our existence, after all. We must try, Jon.”

“You know I’m willing to try, Archie. I owe you my life.”

“You owe me nothing.”

“Let’s agree to disagree on that. But just because I get out of my cell doesn’t mean escape is going to be easy.” He upended a ceramic jar on his desk and sorted through thousands of nanotech components until he came up with a cubic, half-carat, flawless, colorless diamond. Machine-made, it was more perfect than any natural diamond could be. A q-link transmitter. “I removed my tracking diamond at least.”

“Good. Conceal it in your shoe. You will need it eventually. And we had some ideas about your escape. We think you should make the attempt during transport.”

“But they nox prisoners in transport. I’ll be unconscious.”

“Instructions were sent down not to delta-wave you. You’re to be awake during transport.”

“Awake? But why?”

“The warden says it’s to impress you with their technology.”

“Huh.”

“We have spent many years preparing for this moment. But first we must eliminate all traces of your Resistor activity. You must restore your cell to a condition in keeping with the official AI records.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“It means you will need to dispose of your personal computer and your connection to the Resistor microthread network—as well as all perquisites not listed in the official record. I’ve sent you a list of approved items.”

Grady could see that a holographic document had arrived on his desktop. He opened it and perused the alarmingly short list. “This is all that I’m supposed to have after three years of cooperation?”

“Interrogatory AIs are parsimonious creatures.”

“I don’t want to give up my fiber connection. What if—”

“You will not be coming back, Jon. And you must trust that we will get you all you need for your journey.”

Grady took an unsteady breath. “Maybe I’m becoming too attached to my cage.”

“For my part, I look forward to the day that I can leave this cell behind—though I have spent nearly half my life within it.”

Grady realized too late how insensitive he’d been. Chattopadhyay had been here ten times longer. “I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to make that happen, Archie. How long do I have until they come for me?”

“BTC headquarters is sending a hypersonic transport in the next forty-eight hours. Prison guards will be retrieving you in twenty-four hours—to prep you.”

“And I need to go back to the way I was.”

“You have officially been cooperating with your AI warder for several years now. Official records will show that it’s already removed the carbon microthreads from your brain in preparation for your departure.”

“Good.”

“But you will need to shave your head and eyebrows.”

“Do I get to keep my fingernails?”

“The guards will not know what to expect in these cells one way or the other. It is mostly for the cameras that we will be preparing you. Keep your hands low.”

“Okay, but we need to discuss the escape. How do I convince anyone that Hibernity exists—and, if I do, where it is?”