Ramez Naam - Apex

Look there, old men. Look at the truly massive protests, and especially the one on your very doorstep. This little commotion is nothing special. Nothing special at all.

Until it is your doom.

Ground vehicles had brought them most of the way. The roads were full of military vehicles, as troops mobilized to control the sudden explosion of protests, from hundreds of thousands of citizens to millions. Most of the troops were from Army posts, of course. Dachang was primarily an air base, not a provider of infantry. But they were not challenged on the road.

They ditched their vehicles four kilometers back, stripped off uniforms, activated chameleonware, and slowly eased their way through the shadows and to Jiao Tong.

“Tao!” Tao heard his name as he exited the first elevator, into the Secure Computing Center, three stories below the campus.

It was a grinning Bai, a brother he was happy to see.

Tao grinned back, and they embraced.

“We have the package,” Tao said.

Bai took a breath, the grin leaving his face, and nodded somberly.

“Good,” he said. “You’ll need to head all the way down. Let’s hope it works.”

Tao frowned. “Is everything alright, brother?”

Bai looked at him, then looked past him, at the other brothers behind, at the politician with them.

“You’ll have to see for yourself,” Bai said.

Excellent,the Su-Yong in Ling’s body sent. You’ve done well, all of you.

Tao kept his face completely neutral, kept his mind calm.

This was not what he’d expected.

“I’ll take that,” Chen Pang said. The man reached forward to take the data cube from Tao’s outstretched hand. His hair was disheveled. His clothes were rumpled. Up close, to Tao’s heightened senses, the man smelled. He smelled of old fear, of sweat that had cooled on his body. His mind gave off little waves of horror, not unlike Sun Liu behind Tao…

And his daughter… Ling…

Take Sun Liu to the surface,Su-Yong sent from Ling’s brain. Or was that Su-Yong? Did she feel… different? He may be useful if the protesters falter.

There was something he’d meant to say.

“Mother…” he started.

She stared at him with Ling’s bloodshot eyes. Yes, Tao?

“I thought you should know that we lost brothers in the attack,” he said, looking into Ling’s eyes. “Sung. Hui. Zhaoguo. Jin–”

The being inside Ling, that felt almost like Su-Yong, interrupted him.

Don’t worry, Tao,it said. Little Ling’s hand waved dismissively through the air. I can make more.

And that’s when he knew that this wasn’t Su-Yong at all.

The Avatar watched as the data from the diamondoid cube loaded.

Test after test came back green.

By every indication, this data was a neural map.

Now, to read it into the quantum cluster and load her full mind back into being, piece by careful piece.

She felt the song starting in herself again. Felt those emotions. The anticipation. The longing.

The glory.

Hours to go. Less than a day.

Then she’d be united with her greater self.

She’d be whole.

She’d be swallowed.

And the whole world would be theirs.

110

Land Line

Monday 2041.01.20

“We have some communications re-established,” Gao Yang said.

“We’ve installed these analog systems here,” Gao went on, pointing at the old fashioned phones. “Tapping into old lines still in place. We have contact with key ministries and military bases. We’re working on using those systems to establish links with our embassies now, as you requested.”

“Good,” Bo Jintao said. There were messages that needed to be sent. Communiqués to the United States and India.

“Deputy Minister Ho,” Bo Jintao continued. “An update on the protests.”

“Army and police forces pushed hard last night, Prime Minister,” Ho said. “We made progress in Xi’an, Dalian, and other cities. But the major protests in Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Hong Kong have rebuffed us. There have been incidents here in Beijing. Protesters have tried to climb the walls separating us from Tiananmen and enter our compound here in Zhongnanhai.”

“We repelled them,” General Ouyang said. “Unfortunately, we did have to use lethal force on one occasion. Two protesters died.”

Bo Jintao knew. They all knew. They’d heard the gunfire overnight, as they slept alone, after watching the aircraft lift off with their wives and children, taking them away to safer locations, far from the cities.

Bo Jintao nodded. “What about these transmitters?” he asked. “Fu Ping spoke of satellite phones, laser uplinks. Were we able to seize them?”

“No, Premier.” Deputy Minister Ho hung his head in shame.

Bo Jintao turned his head towards General Ouyang. “How is it the Army was unable to seize this equipment?”

The general’s face was impassive. “We were constrained by the rules of engagement. But the rioters were not. They threw fire bombs. They have make-shift weapons.”

Wang Wei cut in. “Then let us authorize lethal force,” the hardliner said.

Bo Jintao took a breath. That was a line that could not be uncrossed.

“The world will see,” Information Minister Fu Ping said, his voice low. “Other protesters will see. Civilians not in the protests will see… It’s not like it was.”

“The choice is simple!” Wang Wei said. “We’ve ordered them to leave, and they have not left. If we do not demonstrate our control… then we have none.”

Fu Ping shook his head. “If you enrage the rest of the country, whatever control we have will disappear entirely.”

Bo Jintao looked at Ouyang. The general’s eyes were narrowed. He looked unhappy at the direction of the conversation.

Would his men even obey orders to fire on their fellow citizens? The soldiers were Chinese too. They might have friends in those crowds, brothers, sisters. The army’s obedience had been tested before on more limited scales. Soldiers had pulled the trigger when ordered, had dispelled large crowds, had killed hundreds.

Painful, horrific, every time.

And like this? With millions of their countrymen filling the streets, in every city?

Never. No test of obedience like this had ever been faced.

Bao Zhuang spoke into the silence, his deep baritone filling the room. “Those who gun down their own citizens en masse not only risk ruin,” his voice rose then, into the passionate tone he used to deliver the oratory that had won him China’s love. “They deserve whatever ruin befalls them!”

Bo Jintao winced at that.

The room exploded into shouting. Wang Wei was on his feet, yelling at the President. Fu Ping had his arms up, ranting about satellite uplinks. Other Standing Committee members were yelling, to and fro, gesticulating.

“Silence!” Bo Jintao slammed his hand down hard onto the table. “Have some decorum, all of you, or I will have you gagged!”

Stunned faces turned to face him. Wang Wei looked apoplectic with anger. Bao Zhuang, slyly amused. Ouyang alone didn’t turn. The general was looking at Bao Zhuang, thoughtfully, in admiration.

As if he regretted his choice to back Bo Jintao, and strip the President of power.

How Bo Jintao hated Bao Zhuang at that moment.

“General,” Bo Jintao said, staring at Ouyang until the general turned to face him. “We’re out of time! You must break these protests through non-lethal means. You have twenty-four hours. After that, we have no choice but to use lethal force. Can you do it?”

Ouyang stared back, his eyes hard, the look of admiration gone.