Hosein Kouros-Mehr - Extinction 6

“Good.” Manos puts down his glass. “One other thing.”

“Sir?”

“The CIA notified me about some Chinese communications they’ve been unable to hack. Apparently, they requested work from Google but heard nothing back. They’re suspicious something’s going on.”

Seth pauses. “The CIA thinks Google is holding information from them?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s involved?”

“The head of Google’s A.I. department. His name is Austin Sanders.”

“Let me see what I can find.” Seth looks down and types on a keyboard. “I’ll scan the company’s message servers. Give me one minute.”

“Call me when you’re done.” Manos slips from his robe and puts on a pair of workout shorts and sneakers. Through his smartglasses, he clicks an icon and a floor panel retracts, revealing a treadmill. He sets its speed to “4.5” and begins a light jog.

“I found something,” Seth says.

Manos slows to a walk. “That was quick.”

“There are two sources about an encrypted radio signal. The first is a call between Austin Sanders and Gareth Allen where they set a five-day deadline for the work.”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“There’s another exchange five days later between Austin Sanders and an Anil Anaya about a transmission from Barnard’s Star.”

Manos rolls his eyes. “What does that have to do with China?”

“Apparently, Anil believes the CIA was wrong. The radio signal did not originate in New China.”

“What?”

“It appears to be from a nearby star, not from Mars.”

Manos stops walking. “A message from space?”

“Yes.”

“Have they cracked the code?”

Seth hesitates. “…apparently, it’s some sort of countdown…”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes. It ends tomorrow at noon.”

“What happens then?”

“I don’t know, sir. Apparently, Austin Sanders believes it’s the end times.”

Manos bursts into laughter. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” He giggles as he speaks. “Do you know what I smell, Seth?”

“Sir?”

“A massive profit.” He howls and raises his fists. “This is a huge tabloid story! The Telegraph or the Enquirer will pay top dollar for a spread like this.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s an easy $50 million.”

Seth’s eyes widen. “Would you like me to leak this to the press?”

Manos sobers up. “Leak? That’s sophomoric, Seth. You should know the next steps.”

“Apologies, I misspoke.”

“What are the three rules of GoldRock?”

“Make a profit. Protect our assets. Don’t hurt our employees.”

“Exactly. Money is the name of the game but brand and loyalty come first. GoldRock has integrity. We are an A+ investment firm.”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“So what will you do next?”

Seth pauses and thinks. “…I’ll spin a teaser sample and send it to the major tabloids to start a bidding war.”

“Make sure to pose as a Google employee. They cannot trace any of this back to GoldRock. And remember, you can’t communicate anything to the CIA. We must protect our reputation.”

“Absolutely.”

“Start the bidding at $10 million. Talk to our marketing team and make it a juicy story.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good work, Seth, now get the job done.” Manos ends the call and laughs.

A countdown to the end times!

He yells to his assistant. “Felina, get Gareth Allen back on the line.”

“Yes, Mr. Kharon.”

The smartglasses buzz and Gareth appears on the screen. “Manos?”

“Friend, we’ve solved your Google issue, and it will only cost you $10 million for our stealth services.”

“You cracked the Chinese code? That was fast! What have you found?”

“It appears Austin Sanders decrypted the signal you sent to him. You were right. His team has kept the results from you all along.”

“Those commie bastards.”

“It gets worse. They’re about to reveal their findings to the press.”

“What does the message say?”

“I have no idea.”

Gareth grinds his teeth. “Leaking classified information… that’s treason! We will lock them up for that…”

“Give them hell, Gareth.”

“Thank you, Manos. I’ll take it from here.”

BETH CLIMBSa staircase to the roof deck of her Berkeley home and steps into her helicopter. She straps herself in. “Cooper, drive me to work.”

The engine turns on and the blades start to spin. “You will arrive in fifteen minutes,” her A.I. responds.

The chopper rises above the Berkeley Hills and heads south to Mountain View. Below lie the ruins of the Bay Bridge, once the thoroughfare connecting San Francisco and Berkeley. Train tubes anchored to its steel cables ferry passengers to the downtown islands huddling in the Pacific Ocean.

“Cooper, what’s happening in the world?”

“It’s Monday, August 14, 2066. Here are today’s top stories from the Telegraph. Space Countdown - Scientists have discovered a mysterious radio signal from a nearby star. A team at Google decrypted the code and discovered that it originated in Barnard’s Star, six light-years away.”

Beth’s eyebrows rise.

I haven’t heard about this.

“The message appears to be a countdown ending today at noon Pacific Standard Time. Google scientists believe it may end in a cataclysmic event. Space enthusiasts from across the globe are gathering to mark the event, some proclaiming it to be the apocalypse.”

The end of the world in two hours? Beth chuckles. Great way to start the week.

“War update - China is escalating its cyber warfare offensive, attacking banks and infrastructure along the East Coast. Tomorrow the President is expected to declare bold initiatives that may include tariffs on information and technology.”

Beth’s eyes widen. “Cooper, get my executive staff on the line.”

Instantly, six frames appear on the tablet, each caption with a title—Chief Financial Officer, Chief Legal Officer, Chief Marketing Officer, Chief Technology Officer, Chief Communications Officer, and Chief Human Resources Officer. One by one, the executives answer the call and appear on the screen.

Beth stares into the tablet’s camera. “Team, it has come to my attention that new war measures go into effect tomorrow and we will be affected. We must stand up against the government. We can’t allow them to dictate our policies.”

The group is silent.

She raises her voice. “Did you hear me? Google will not be a party to the President’s actions. The government wants to punish China and Russia with new rules that will backfire and hurt everyone at home. We will put up resistance, understood?”

No one speaks up.

Beth grinds her teeth. “Ben? What do you know about these tariffs?”

Ben Daley, Chief Technology Officer, shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know anything about them.”

Thomas Rosenberg breaks the silence. “Beth, are you talking about the motion approved by our shareholders last week, the Information Tariffs?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I ratified them yesterday.”

Beth fumes in anger. “You did what ?! You executed the changes without running them by me?”

He hesitates. “…they told me you authorized the plans. In fact, your signature was on the docket.”

“Who’s they ?”

“GoldRock.”

Camila Dominguez, Chief Legal Officer, interrupts. “GoldRock submitted them to me as well and threatened legal action if I didn’t approve. We had no choice—”

“This is coercion,” Beth shouts. “GoldRock is illegally manipulating my leadership team!”