Ramez Naam - Apex

…calibration phase…

Up ahead it was growing even denser. There was something different, Angel saw. A gap in the protest, then more signs, different signs.

A counter-protest. Stockton loyalists.

And that’s where the greatest concentration of Nexus was coming from?

She pushed her way right up to it, until she was up against the orange plastic fencing that held the anti-Stockton crowd back. Ten feet away, another orange plastic fence held a smaller but equally fervent crowd of Stockton loyalists with their own angry signs back. In the gap were cops, spaced one every few feet, their presence serving to discourage the two groups from attacking each other at least as much as the fence.

She reached to cut off her Nexus communication, so close to these cops. But before she could, something hit her hard. A wave of emotion. Anger. Violence. Repugnance. Intolerance. She felt it hit Tempest and Cheyenne. Felt them hit with the same urge to shout and yell and bash, to throw themselves across the gap and hurt their foes.

She reached out with all she could, grabbed hold of them with her thoughts, and threw herself back from the fence, to the ground.

SOMEONE’S FUCKING WITH OUR MINDS!she sent.

She heard the sound of yelling, of screams, of a cop ordering people to stay back, of the fence failing, of signs being slammed into people’s bodies.

LET’S GET THE HELL OUT! Cheyenne sent back.

There’s a transmitter! Tempest sent. I can find it! I can disable it!

Then something crashed physically into Angel, and the world went away.

Breece watched the fight break out with fascination. The anti-Stockton protesters, those with Nexus in their brains – most of them, anyway – threw themselves over the fence, charged past the cops, and slammed themselves into the Stockton loyalists, swinging signs like swords, like clubs.

The Stockton loyalists, enraged, fought back.

“That’s enough,” Kate’s voice said into his ear.

“It’s fascinating,” Breece subvocalized in reply.

“We said a test, Breece,” Kate said. “Test successful.”

“Roger that,” Breece subvocalized. He clicked the button in his pocket again. Perhaps a few of the combatants out there looked confused. But more were piling on, throwing themselves into the fight from both sides now, as violence begat more violence.

He nodded, then turned and walked away.

Behind him, sirens began to wail as the melee grew.

Rangan sat alone in the Bunker.

He’d been here by himself quite a lot. Most nights he was the only one here. The other three had lives elsewhere. They didn’t talk about them, at least not with him. They had apartments or homes or something. Boyfriends or girlfriends. Not full time jobs – not from the amount of time they spent here – but other obligations that sometimes took them away for chunks of time during the day, or occasionally for more than one day at a time.

They didn’t say. He’d learned quickly not to ask.

He’d stay here, by himself, scouring the web for news of Kade, or his parents, or hacking on the mesh code, or playing with Nexus apps, or playing music, messing around with the new DJ apps that existed on top of Nexus, putting together playlists that he could beam straight out from his mind, to the right audio gear or, heck, to anyone running Nexus. He’d let himself dream a little dream that one day he’d be a free man and could do something as trivial and fun as play a set in a club.

As if.

Not today.

You want to make yourself useful? Tempest had asked, before they left for the protest. Check what I told you about the chemreactor hack. I don’t trust it.

What Tempest had told him – what she’d told them all – was that it was highly improbable. That it was highly suspicious that someone could hack so many models all at once. And she was right.

The hack that had gone live on November 10 th included the private keys to seventeen different models of high end commercial chemreactor. Seventeen different makes and models of devices that could synthesize complex molecules and molecular brews like Nexus, given their component ingredients and the right recipe.

Those seventeen, Tempest had verified, were the seventeen highest market share models out there. Together they accounted for more than ninety-five percent of all the chemreactors in use.

Normally those chemreactors were locked down. Censor chips ensured they couldn’t be used to synthesize patented pharmaceuticals, or dangerous explosives, or illegal street drugs.

But with the private key, you could override all of that.

A hack that broke one chemreactor model key would be a massive coup. But seventeen at once? Who could do that? Had someone hacked them slowly year over year and stockpiled those hacks?

Tempest’s suspicion was that the version of Nexus released along with the hack was a fake, with a back door, a vulnerability to exploit. He felt a pang of guilt at that. There were back doors in Nexus – back doors he and Kade had placed there. That Kade must have changed.

But when he checked and checked and rechecked the version of Nexus released with this hack… it was identical to what was in the public depots a few days back.

The recipe for synthesis was identical.

The source code was identical.

The compiled binaries were identical.

There was even the option to download the latest version from any of the most popular repositories and install that instead.

Whoever was doing this just seemed to want more Nexus out there, period.

Rangan was pondering this when the door to the Bunker slammed open.

He practically jumped out of his chair.

Cheyenne and Tempest came in, supporting Angel between them, gear bags slung over their backs.

He stepped forward. “Angel? You OK?”

She looked up at him. “No,” she said, a bit groggily, her arms still wrapped around her friends. “I’m pissed.”

“Somebody got there with Nexus before us,” Cheyenne said.

“And they’re a total asshole,” Tempest finished.

Breece stayed silent as Kate railed at him.

“That was a test?” she yelled. “It turned them into animals! I thought we were talking about a little encouragement! A little nudge! That was about revolution, alright, but it wasn’t about moving humanity forward!” She was livid. He’d seen her this angry before, but seldom at him. “Those protesters are on our side fighting for the same thing we’re fighting for!” She looked around the table at Breece and the Nigerian. “And we just helped someone violate them.”

Breece waited a moment to make sure she was done, then he held up his hands palms open.

“OK, I hear you, Kate. It was a test.”

“And you want to move forward!”

“I want to be ready, in case the Supreme Court rejects the case, or rules for Stockton.”

The Nigerian nodded at that.

“No,” Kate said. “If the court rules for Stockton, or if Kim wins, and he’s on the wrong side after all, then I’m all for direct action, but only against enemies of the cause.”

She stopped, took a deep breath, visibly calmed herself, brought her hands together in front of her on the table, looked at the Nigerian and then again at Breece.

“I will put bullets between the eyes of any who deny humans freedom over our own minds and bodies,” Kate said. “I will set bombs beneath their buildings. I will burn down the homes of any who try to limit our rights or use force against us.”

She took another breath.

Breece opened his mouth to speak, to say something calming.