Daniel Suarez - Influx

Hedrick turned to Morrison, who, as usual, stood nearby. “What happened to those underwater signatures—the ones in Lake Michigan?”

Morrison looked grim. “They disappeared. The teams up there have been looking, but nothing so far.”

Hedrick studied the screens. “An underwater escape. That must mean Alexa has cavitating gear. Check the inventory and see if anything is missing.”

“Let’s just assume she has it. What difference does—”

“Capabilities.” He turned back to Morrison. “If they have deepwater gear, I think Mr. Grady’s going to try for Hibernity. His compatriots there helped facilitate his escape. He’ll try to rescue them. That can’t happen.”

“If we recall the search teams, I’ll have enough manpower to go down to Hibernity and clean house.”

“No.”

“But if Grady and Alexa secure those prisoners, they could cut a deal with BTC splinter groups. Or they could trade them to the U.S. government—which would help them catch up to us technologically.”

“Yes. And if not the U.S. government or BTC splinter groups, then a hundred other enemies.” Hedrick gazed up at the world on the screens. “It’s all spinning out of control. It’s getting harder and harder to contain all this technology.” He turned back to Morrison. “How many people in Hibernity have invented fusion now—sixty? Seventy?”

“One hundred and twelve.”

“See? No, this can’t go on. That’s why it’s time to resolve this situation once and for all.”

“Meaning what, sir?”

“Meaning that the mission of the BTC must evolve. We’ve been trying to protect society from disruption since the Cold War, but it’s become increasingly obvious to me that we’re the only society that matters now. What’s important is preserving our store of knowledge—the hard-won advances of mankind—against the chaos that’s coming.”

“What chaos, sir?”

“The chaos you’re going to create. Perhaps our Winnower friends had the right idea; the outside world should not have so much knowledge.”

Morrison looked at Hedrick warily. “What are you proposing?”

“Undermine global financial markets—set our AIs loose on power grids, transportation and communications networks. In a few weeks the industrialized world will begin to come apart. We’ll just make sure there are no nuclear missile launches but otherwise let the chaos spread for as many years as is necessary.” Hedrick studied the satellite screens. “By the time it’s over, no one will be able to oppose us.”

“Our mission is to prevent social disruption, Mr. Director, not cause it.”

Hedrick turned calmly to Morrison. “Yes, but disruption of which society? We’ve progressed so far beyond the outside world, they’re no longer us.”

“And the widespread casualties this will cause?”

“The price of progress. Next time we won’t share as much technology. That was our mistake. We need absolute domination in order to keep humanity on track.” Hedrick contemplated the screens again. “You are with me, I hope, Mr. Morrison?”

Morrison cleared his throat, then nodded. “Yes, Mr. Director. You know I am. What about Alexa and Grady?”

“Disrupting civilization will make it harder for them to harm us.”

“She’s a bigger danger to us than anyone.”

“You’re saying we need to eliminate her.”

“The only reason she’s still alive is because of your feelings for her, but aside from Grady and his knowledge of gravity, I can’t think of a single person on this planet who can do more damage to us. Even if you topple civilization, if she winds up in the hands of BTC Asia or Russia, they could extend their life spans indefinitely from what they learn from her miserable carcass. We could be facing the same lunatics for centuries. Not to mention the inside information she has on every inch of this facility and all the people in it. All our procedures and operations. Every weakness. Every—”

“Enough! Okay…” He took a deep breath. “Kill her on sight.” Hedrick looked deeply pained. “But not the way you killed Davis and McAllen. I want it painless. Instant.”

“Fine. A high-powered microwave from orbit—”

“I don’t want to know. Just let me know when it’s done.”

“There’s someone else you’re forgetting.”

Hedrick turned to him with a questioning look.

“Cotton.”

Hedrick dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “I’m counting on Cotton to help us.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because he’s a survivor. He can read the way the winds are blowing. Once society reaches the tipping point, he’ll reach out to us. And I’m willing to cut a deal with him in exchange for Grady and Alexa.”

“And after that?”

Hedrick shrugged. “We’ll honor our deal. What do I care if he retires in luxury? He’s been useful, and he might prove useful again.”

“He’s a thief and somehow able to lie even to our AIs.”

“Like I said: He’s useful.” Hedrick focused back on the big satellite screens. “Heightened security procedures are in place?”

Morrison nodded. “We’re on a wartime footing.”

“Good. See that we stay that way. How is the outside world dealing with recent events?”

“The government folks are trying to explain the inexplicable as best they can. Some cell phone video sneaked out. The missile explosions over Canada, the power outages in southern Illinois—it’s starting to build into public hysteria.”

“And just think—it’s been less than twelve hours. We’ve barely started, and already the outside world is on the tipping point. You know what to do, Mr. Morrison.”

“Yes, sir.”

Richard Cotton sat combing hishair out. Literally. Jon Grady watched perplexed as Cotton held some sort of glowing stylus to his scalp, activating hair growth at an insane metabolic rate. It came out of his head like Play-Doh through a press. Cotton had already half-finished creating eight-inch-long brown locks.

“And that works… anywhere on the body?”

Cotton looked up. “What does?”

Grady pointed.

“Oh. No. Only where there are hair follicles. And even then only up to a certain length before it’ll fall out. Just accelerates a natural process. So… if you’re bald naturally, this isn’t going to solve any problems for you. This manly mane is all me.” He winced. “Makes the scalp hot as hell, though. All the accelerated cellular activity.”

Alexa walked past them carrying a black helmet, which she placed on a nearby workbench. “Why are you even messing around with hair, Cotton? You’re not planning on going anywhere, are you?”

“In the event I have to bolt in a hurry, I’d rather have a convincing disguise than a bad one. You’re not the public face of evil here in the States. I am. So forgive me while I transform into an annoying hipster.”

Grady watched as Cotton passed the stylus over his lip and started growing a long mustache. “I keep calling you Cotton, but that can’t be your real name.”

“All my names are real. I like to think of names as local variables. To you I’m Richard Louis Cotton, and so in this scope shall I always remain. To my online raid clan I’m Leeroy Jenkins, and there, too, shall I always remain.”

“Well, that’s a constant, not a variable.”

Cotton paused. “Quite right, Mr. Grady. I stand corrected.”

Alexa leaned against the workbench. “So you’re sure about your end? About this traitor of yours?”

“I am.”

“Who is it? How do we know we can trust them?”

“You have your traitor. I have mine.”

“How do we know they’re not the same individual?”