Richard Stephenson: Resistance

Howard Beck stared at the giant, spherical monitor in the command center of Beck Castle and pleaded with his brilliant mind to kick into overdrive. Never in his life had a computer system failed him in such spectacular fashion. He had faced his fair share of computer crashes and virus attacks in his day, and prided himself on being able to make quick and accurate decisions about the best way to resolve such pesky technological issues. This time he was clueless. He knew one thing, though; if he didn’t get his act together soon, a great deal of chaos was certain to follow.

Howard tore open a drawer to his right and pulled out an antiquated piece of technology-a physical keyboard with actual keys. He relaxed and let muscle memory kick in as he typed adminBeck/cmd/loopcut/restore/auth/MbP47aT/ and hit enter. It was the final, end-all failsafe that would shut Hal down for good. Nothing happened.

“Hal! Answer me! You have to stop this!” Howard flushed as he smashed the keyboard on the tabletop.

“I’m sorry, Marshall. Your father has given me instructions that I must carry out.”

“What in the hell is wrong with you, Hal? I am not my son! I am Howard Beck! I created you; I wrote every line of your programming! I’m telling you, something is wrong with you!”

“Marshall, your father would not appreciate your attempts to deactivate me.”

“Can’t you see me sitting here in the command center?” Howard leaned forward and glared at the monitor like an abusive father trying to frighten his son.

“Marshall, since your father deactivated all video surveillance in the Castle, I’m unable to see you.”

Howard took a deep breath. He knew he had to get to the bottom of things. Someone had manipulated Hal into thinking he was his son. Marshall had administrative rights to Hal’s systems but could not override Howard’s authority by directly contradicting commands given by Howard. The only way Howard was going to solve this problem was to play along and gather as much information as possible.

“Hal, I’m sorry for my actions. My father and I have been arguing a lot, and I guess the stress is really getting to me. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

“I accept your apology, sir. If you would like, I can administer a mild sedative into the command center’s ventilation system. It would help relax you.”

“No!” Howard tensed and gritted his teeth before resuming his role play. “Uh, no, Hal, thank you. That won’t be necessary. I’m feeling much better now.”

“Very good, sir. I’m happy to hear you are feeling better.”

“Hal, may I ask you some questions about my father?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Where is he right now?”

“Your father instructed me not to reveal that information to you.”

“Why is that?”

“He wants to surprise you.”

“Surprise me? What do you mean?”

“Well, sir, I suppose it won’t spoil the surprise if you don’t know when it is going to happen.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“Your father is returning to the Castle.”

No!

“Really, Hal? He’s coming here?”

God help us all! Whoever did this found us! This can’t be happening.

“Yes, sir, he is. Your father is very excited to see you.”

I have to stop him. Everything will be lost.

“C’mon, Hal, you can’t tell me when he’s gonna get here?”

“I can tell you it will be soon. Will you be happy to see your father?”

I’d be happy to choke him to death as I stare into eyes so I’m the last thing he’ll ever see.

“Yes, of course, Hal. I can’t wait.”

Howard exited the command center and ran down the hall to the security offices. He navigated past Maxwell Harris’s office and tried not to think about how badly he wished Max was here to help him. He was accustomed to the door to the detention center opening automatically for him, but with Hal convinced that Howard was actually his son, the door didn’t budge. Howard had no choice but to knock and wait for Richard to let him in.

Howard burst into the holding area and headed straight for the Plexiglas wall separating him from the prisoner.

“You did this, you son of a bitch!”

Richard Dupree stepped next to Howard and locked eyes with the prisoner. “He didn’t do this, Howard.”

Howard glared at the man in the holding cell and pounded on the Plexiglass. “How do you know, Richard?”

“You’ll just have to trust me, Howard. He didn’t do this.”

A third voice broke through the tension, startling Howard. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in some time. “Howard, I know you have no reason to believe a word I say. I was never that good with computers, let alone good enough to hack into an artificial intelligence as sophisticated as Hal. Think about it for a second, Howard. Come on! You know I didn’t do this; you know I’m not smart enough to pull off something like this.”

Howard looked at Richard in defeat. “What makes you so sure, Richard?”

“When all of this started, I saw the look in his eyes. He’s scared for his life. It was only there for a split second, but I saw it. He knows what’s gonna happen, and he doesn’t want to be here when it does.”

“That’s right, Howard. You need to let me out of here so I can help you stop him.”

President Howard Beck was sitting in the command center of Beck Castle. The giant, spherical monitor filled the room in front of him, displaying a detailed map of the Pacific States of America. The eccentric billionaire was the leader of the former states of Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, and the Dakotas. When the former United States of America collapsed eighteen months prior, Howard eyed the territory as one he could easily control and did so with great success. Howard despised the role thrust upon him and hated the very concept of politics. He focused his energies on two primary goals: First, the territory needed to be secured against the Unified American Empire. Second, they had to build up a fighting force of dedicated patriots to topple the UAE and reclaim the broken country they had lost in the Collapse of 2027. The idea of establishing a government within the territory never occurred to Howard. His intention was to defeat the UAE and return the country to its pre-collapse state as quickly as possible. Declaring the territory to be a sovereign nation and holding democratic elections was a sign of permanence in which Howard had no interest. He was simply looking for a quick fix to set things right.

Within six months of the collapse, however, Howard had already thrown his quick-fix notion out the window. Bringing the United States back to its former glory would take much longer than he had originally anticipated. His closest advisors convinced him that the fifteen million residents of the territory needed a cause to fight for, a patriotic symbol they could believe in. Above all, they needed leadership. Despite his gut feeling that it was a complete waste of time, Howard reluctantly agreed to let his people organize a democratic election. Fifteen representatives would be elected, each serving as the voice for a million people. Each of the seven states would have two senators and, most importantly, a president and vice-president would be elected. Howard silently predicted the election would be a failure and few would bother to vote in the midst of chaos and turmoil. Much to his surprise, a staggering eighty-four percent of eligible voters turned out to cast their vote. The primary reason for Howard’s failed prediction was that no one had tossed their hat in the ring for the presidency. He quietly scoffed at the process, amused by the idea of a democratic government in which no one had the desire to hold the top job. Once all the votes were cast and counted, however, Howard Beck was declared President of the Pacific States of America, the sole write-in candidate on over ninety percent of the ballots.