Ramez Naam - Apex

114

Contingency

Monday 2041.01.20

Gao Yang brought them the data at the ongoing emergency Standing Committee meeting, in the early evening. They were waiting for the ultimatum on the American fleet to run out and the warning shot to be fired. And getting updates on troop movements, preparing for Ouyang’s troops to launch their coordinated assault to flush the protests under cover of darkness.

So many balls in the air.

Then Gao Yang strode with purpose back into the room.

“Sir!” He wore a worried look.

Bo Jintao frowned.

“Gao, what is it?”

“Premier, we’ve heard back from Ambassador Wu in New Delhi. The Indians claim they had nothing to do with our systems going down. Sir, they blame Su-Yong Shu. By name. With a great deal of specificity.”

Bo Jintao felt the breath catch in his throat. The blood drained from his face.

Su-Yong Shu.

Wang Wei laughed. “They expect us to believe this? We shut that creature down!”

Information Minister Fu Ping spoke, softly. “It would make sense…”

Gao Yang went on. “They claim, specifically, that she left a program behind. And that the program’s task is to sow chaos to distract us, to retrieve a full copy of the backup made of her, and to reactivate that backup on the quantum cluster beneath Jiao Tong.”

Bo Jintao looked over at Shen Juan, the man they’d appointed Minister of Science and Technology to replace Sun Liu.

“The quantum cluster…” Bo Jintao started.

“Prime Minister,” Shen Juan replied. “Our last word is that director Xu and his staff have secured themselves inside the building, to wait out the protests going on outside. I last received an update, two, perhaps three days ago…”

“Find General Ouyang !” Bo said to Gao Yang. “Tell him to get a team to the Computer Science Building at Jiao Tong, now! Use all force! And don’t wait for nighttime! I want first hand validation that it’s secure, the cluster itself!”

“You can’t believe any of this!” Wang Wei said. “So the Indians have some intel on an old program of ours, what of it? They’re blowing smoke to distract us while our cities go mad!”

“I don’t know what to believe,” Bo Jintao said. “But if this is true…”

Another thought struck him. And then another. Gao Yang voiced them both first.

“The cubes,” Gao said. “And the clones.”

Bo Jintao nodded.

“Yes. Have Ouyang send teams to check on the cube locations and on the Confucian Fist. Immediately! Full force authorized! This trumps everything!”

General Ouyang Fan listened as Gao Yang relayed the message.

Su-Yong Shu. Was it possible?

And if so… How much of everything else could she be behind?

How much of their own responses could she have planned for?

He ducked outside to his helicopter, pulled on the headset, and sent his message.

“Cancel the planned assaults on the protests. Yes, cancel them. Except Jiao Tong. Focus all available resources there. Get a team in to the quantum cluster, using any and all force necessary. And send strike forces to the following locations…”

115

Morning in America

Monday 2041.01.20

Carolyn Pryce watched as John Stockton adjusted his tie in the mirror for the third time.

8am. The first VIPs would start showing up for the inauguration in an hour. Stockton would be sworn in again at noon.

Between those two times, the Chinese deadline to pull back their warships from international waters off their coast would expire.

What a day.

“That’s it, I think,” the President concluded. He looked over at her. “Thank you for agreeing to be at the Pentagon today.”

“Of course, Mr President,” Pryce said.

“There’ll be rumors,” Stockton said. “The press will read things into you not being at the inauguration. You, Stevens, and McWilliams.”

“I don’t care what the press thinks of me, sir,” she said.

Stockton nodded, and gave one last tug at his tie. “That’s something I’ve always liked about you.” He smiled into the mirror. “Stevens is in charge. As Secretary of Defense, he’s the one in the chain of command. I know you don’t agree with him on how best to handle the China situation, but–”

“Sir,” Pryce interrupted. “President Jameson arrived yesterday. He’s scheduled to fly back out this afternoon.”

Stockton looked at her sharply. “You’re tracking him?”

“You said you’d confront him, Mr President,” she replied.

Stockton sighed, looked back at the mirror. “I planned to see him yesterday. His people canceled at the last minute, said he was having health problems.”

“You could just pass the info I gave you on to the Special Prosecutor,” Pryce said.

“Or you will, Carolyn?” Stockton looked at her again. “Is that what you’re saying?”

Pryce returned his gaze, said nothing.

Stockton turned back to the mirror. “Jameson’s going to be at the Capitol,” he said. “The man can’t hide from me there.”

Rangan adjusted his Rangan Shankari mask and looked around the crowd gathering in Anacostia Park. It was still more than an hour until the march was supposed to start, and already the number of people here was enormous. Despite threats to arrest anyone caught with Nexus, despite threats to arrest anyone marching, period, the park was inundated with people and Nexus. He and the C3 were spread throughout, linked by the high-gain directional antennae, offering downloads of mesh to all those around them. He caught wisps of thought from Angel, from Tempest, from Cheyenne.

At 10am the march would start. Hundreds of thousands of people would stream out of Anacostia and march west and then southwest, following the streets to Lincoln Park. Then straight west from there, down E street. Straight to the Capitol, where they’d been told barricades had been set up. Set up to prevent them from getting too close to the US Capitol Building, or anywhere near the National Mall, anywhere near the parade route the President would take from the Capitol to the White House after his inauguration.

But the march would make it to within sight of the great dome of the Capitol, would bring hundreds of thousands there in time for John Stockton’s second swearing in, to protest his administration’s policies, to stand up for their rights and call for justice for all those who’d been deceived and jailed and abused.

The plan was to do it peacefully.

But sometime along the way, he was sure, Breece or his proxies were going to strike.

And if Kade was right… that was all just cover, just distraction for something much bigger, and much more dangerous.

Rangan smiled and touched another mind, offered the man a download.

We can do this, he told himself. I hope.

Breece watched from the safe house, the Nigerian with him. The wallscreen was split, one half showing news coverage of the swelling protest in Anacostia Park. The other showing coverage of the preparations for today’s inauguration festivities at the Capitol.

His operatives in Anacostia reported all was ready. His electronic tools agreed.

And the real strike… Well, that was on rails now.

Breece checked the time. Less than four hours to go.

Four hours until the biggest success the PLF had ever had. Four hours until the greatest underdog victory of all time.

Breece smiled widely as he watched the screens. Today would be a day for the history books.

116

Incoming

Monday 2041.01.20

Zhi Li looked around the battlefield that Jiao Tong had become.

Last night had been long, terrifying, painful. They’d endured tear gas and rubber bullets for hours, lobbing back fuel-filled glass bottles that shattered on impact. They’d held the army back, just as the protests had at other universities, and at the massive gatherings at People’s Square, at Tiananmen Square in Beijing, at the squares in Hong Kong and Guangzhou and elsewhere…