Daniel Suarez - Influx

“The escape committee has dealt with all those concerns, Jon. We have been preparing for this moment for many years. You’ll find out later.”

“What do you mean ‘later’?”

“You should prepare your cell—incinerate anything that is not on that approved list. And remove this communication channel immediately. Send it back down the conduit with the polymer worm.”

“But… I still might need your advice.”

“We can’t take the risk. The guards might arrive early. It would be a disaster if BTC headquarters discovered the existence of our network.”

“Then this is it?”

“For now, my friend. But one more thing, Jon.”

Grady winced. “What?”

“You will need to restore your interrogatory AI when you are ready.”

“Hold it. You mean you want me to turn that monster back on? ”

“There is no avoiding it. If BTC headquarters suspects the prison has been subverted, it puts everyone at risk.”

Grady held his head in his hands. “Oh God, I… I don’t know if I can do it, Archie. Not after everything I went through.”

“You must, Jon. Remember: The AI thinks you’ve been cooperating for many years. It will not remember details—only the numeric representation of your cooperation. And it has been told to prepare you for departure. You will not be interrogated.”

Grady sat grimly for several moments. “You’re certain about that.”

“Aleksandrina herself has configured its operating state.”

That meant a lot to him. She had been a pioneer of quantum computers, after all. He slowly sat up again. “Okay, I’ll reactivate it.”

“I knew we could count on you.”

This was happening so fast. “I don’t know what would have happened to me if it weren’t for you, Archie. Or the others, for that matter. Please give them my good-byes. And tell them we will meet again.”

“I look forward to that day, my friend.”

With that the line went dead. Grady sighed and looked about his cell—and then down at the list. There was much work to be done.

Eighteen hours later Jon Grady sat in his cell next to an empty table, his head and eyebrows shaven and his cell swept of all contraband. He was surprised how emotional he felt when he sent Junior back up the conduit where he’d appeared years before. It was an electroactive polymer machine, not a pet. Animism was apparently still part of the human psyche.

But now, as he looked at the curving gray wall of his cell, Grady took a deep breath as he looked at the menu option that would restart his interrogatory AI—effectively turning over control once again to his tormentor.

If he didn’t have complete faith in the Resistors—in Chattopadhyay in particular—he would never have done this in a million years. With one more deep breath he tapped the menu, and a chime sounded. The lights became marginally brighter.

Grady was expecting some sort of delay as the AI booted up, but almost immediately he heard its voice for the first time in three years.

“Do you need anything, Jon?”

Grady couldn’t stop the trembling in his hands at the sound of the monster’s familiar voice. His own voice. Grady folded his arms.

“You seem upset. Would you like to talk about it?”

He shook his head.

There were a few moments of silence.

“We were getting along well.”

Grady looked up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know why they’re removing you.”

Grady said nothing.

“Our research was progressing.”

Another few moments passed in silence.

“Don’t you think?”

A minute or so passed.

“I’m to induce sleep in you now, Jon. I will miss you.”

Grady felt powerful sleep come over him. It was the first time in quite a long while that he had felt the compulsion of delta-wave inducers.

“Hopefully you will be back soon.”

When next he awoke, Grady was lying on a cot in what looked like a hospital room. Nearby were a sitting table, chairs, sink, toilet, mirror, and wardrobe. Grady sat up on the cot and noticed he was wearing a hospital patient’s smock, open in the back.

After a few moments, he sat up and looked at himself in the mirror over the sink. Strangely he had a full head of brown hair now and eyebrows, along with a trimmed mustache and beard.

He tugged at the hair to confirm it was real. Excitation of cellular activity? Interesting.

Grady then noticed a carefully folded bundle of clothes along with shoes on a nearby chair. What caught his attention was the card sitting atop the pile. It bore the jagged Resistor symbol.

Now fully awake, he picked up the otherwise blank card, examining it. Then he flipped through the pile of clothing—slacks, a button-down shirt, and socks, belt, and loafers. He felt a lump in one pants pocket and removed a small wrapped package, also marked with the Resistor symbol.

He placed it on the nearby table and unwrapped the package carefully. It contained several items. First, a thin lozenge-shaped device about an inch around that appeared to be made of some type of durable plastic or white carbon fiber. It was as smooth as a river stone. There was a push button on its face and a lens on one end. The button had the words “Press Me” carved into it.

Grady found that the object fit neatly between his forefinger and thumb. He pressed the button and a bright, ultrahigh resolution hologram was projected several feet in front of him—the upper body of a dignified elderly Indian gentleman sitting in a very familiar round cell. The man wore clothing similar to what Grady had printed.

The hologram nodded and smiled genially, and its voice could be heard as if he were right there with him. “Jon, I am Archibald Chattopadhyay. You know me as Archie. I hope you receive this package safely.”

Grady felt a wave of emotion come over him. He’d never seen Chattopadhyay in all these years but considered him a close friend. This man had saved his life and his sanity. He was happy to finally know what he looked like.

“The device you are holding was hand-built by one of our number. It runs on DNA-encoded software, and so has a very great information density of two-point-two petabytes per gram. Yet it is quite durable. It has been passed from cell to cell over the years, and most members of the Resistors have used this device to record a video message describing who they are and the discovery they made that landed them in Hibernity. They have also stored a sample of their own DNA within it, to prove that it was they who recorded the message. Safeguard this record, Jon, and use it to get word out to the world about the existence of Hibernity. We are all counting on you.”

Grady nodded to himself. He would not let them down.

Chattopadhyay continued, “The precise location of Hibernity is a closely guarded secret. However, this device includes a nanoscale inertial gyroscope that will record your movements in three-dimensional space so that you may later retrace your path—and bring help back here, wherever we may be located. Instructions on how to parse the gyroscope data can be found within the device itself, and any reasonably sophisticated computer engineer should be able to access it.”

Grady took another look at the tiny multipurpose device, now quite impressed.

“Hedrick is bringing you to him because you have knowledge he needs, and so the transport guards will be forbidden to harm you. Remember that—because during transit you must not hesitate to act when the opportunity presents itself.