Ramez Naam - Apex

A disaster of historic proportions.

“We must turn off transit, block the streets, set up barricades, force these people back to their homes,” Bo Jintao said. “The sooner we act, the better.”

There were nods everywhere.

Deputy Minister Ho spoke up, “Premier, I agree. To do this, we need more than State Security. The police in some cities may actually be outnumbered! We need to call in the Army. May I pull in General Ouyang?”

Ouyang. The Minister of Defense. Not a Politburo member, but instead a career soldier, the head of the nation’s military, the man who’d thrown his weight behind Bo Jintao and made the coup possible.

Bo Jintao looked around. There was assent everywhere.

“Do it,” he told Ho.

The Deputy Minister for State Security bowed and hurried out of the room.

Another giant screen showed estimates of illicit message traffic, drawn from hand analysis. Information was still spreading, still drawing more people to the protests. That had to be stopped.

“The system is blind to these videos and messages,” Information Minister Fu Ping said again. “It simply does not see them. And our human censor staff are overwhelmed. That is why they’re spreading.”

“So, fix it!” Wang Wei repeated. The head of the Commission for Discipline Inspection was clearly growing impatient.

“We are trying, Wang Wei,” Fu Ping said, in a tone of respect. No one wanted Wang Wei investigating their ministry or their finances for hints of corruption or moral flaws. “But we must remember, it worked until yesterday, and then suddenly failed just as we broke up these protests .” He paused and looked around, meeting the others in the eye. “Someone has done this to us. We have been attacked.”

“By whom?” Bo Jintao asked, leaning forward.

Fu Ping’s gaze wavered. “We’re still trying to determine that, Premier. Our first priority is to restore the sys–”

“Who do you suspect?” Bo Jintao cut him off.

Fu Ping looked back up and met Bo Jintao’s gaze.

“There’s only one adversary who might possibly have such capabilities…” the Information Minister started.

“Who?” Bo Jintao demanded.

He knew the answer already. There was really only one answer.

Fu Ping took a heavy breath. “The NSA,” he said at last.

…

Li-hua watched the news of the protests with dread.

She’d known about the protests on campus. She’d walked by them every day for weeks on her way to the Computer Science building. That was terrifying enough.

But this. To see the government lose control this way.

It was horrific. It was like a sign of the apocalypse.

Didn’t they understand? This was a fire. This was going to burn the country down.

Why hadn’t the Indians called for her yet? Why wasn’t she already in Bangalore? Distinguished Professor Qiu?

They’d promised! What had all her work been for? What had her massive risk been for? Did they think it was trivial to sneak a data cube out of such a secure location? She’d risked execution!

She logged on again, her hands trembling, her breath coming fast.

No message. Nothing in her spam folder.

And there was nothing she could send that would not raise alarms.

Please, she thought. Get me out of here, before this place explodes.

79

To Quell an Angry Mind

Wednesday 2041.01.09

Kade was with Ananda when the news from China came. They’d been meditating, after an early morning of talking through the situation around the world, the possible use of Nexus to spread chaos, and how they could respond.

Then the images came from China. The beatings of protesters last night, at protests they’d had no idea were happening.

And the massive flooding of people into Tiananmen Square today, into other squares in Shanghai and Hong Kong and other cities around the country. The unprecedented amount of footage coming out from all those places.

Kade went online on a hunch, searched through Nexus sharing sites.

Sure enough, there were memories, even real-time feeds, from Chinese protesters, being uploaded now. And accessed everywhere.

“The Chinese people deserve their freedom as much as anyone else, Kade,” Ananda chided him.

Kade stared at the imagery of thousands flooding the streets. “I’m just concerned about how this happened. And for what purpose.” He turned towards Ananda. “Aren’t you?”

Ananda looked at him gravely. “The possibility of bloodshed is always of concern.”

Kade shook his head slightly. “I’m worried more that someone’s manipulating all this, doing it for a reason. I’m worried that someone’s trying to drive the whole world crazy with rage.”

Ananda kept looking at Kade, calmly, his mind giving off a deep tranquil patience.

“Kade,” the old eminent monk and neuroscientist said. “I’ve seen your plans in this area. But remember, anger cannot be fought with anger. Rage cannot be fought with rage. No amount of signal processing can cancel out suffering, or craving, or aversion. If you want to help a mind – or a world – find peace, do exactly that. Help it find peace.”

80

Crucial Conversations

Wednesday 2041.01.09

“What the hell were you doing out there?” Stockton yelled at her. “You were gone! China’s blown up! I’ve got a dozen calls from Jameson’s people! What the hell, Carolyn!”

Pryce held her ground. They were in the President’s private study, off the Oval Office. She was standing as he sat, gesturing angrily with his arms.

She’d seen John Stockton like this before. But never aimed at her.

“President Jameson knew,” she said quietly. “He recognized the names of the programs that created the PLF. That means they’re real. And that he knew .”

Stockton just grew more incensed. “You tried to trick me!” he yelled. “You ran a game on me, Pryce! You tried to trip me up into admitting to something I didn’t know!”

“I had to!” Pryce shot back. The only way to handle an angry Stockton was to show him your own anger. Show him you were invested.

“I assigned this to you,” Stockton yelled. “I wouldn’t have done that if I was behind it!”

“Yes, you would have!” Pryce said, cold and hard. She slapped the back of one hand into another. “That’s exactly what you’d do.”

Stockton stopped talking, just sat there, breathing hard. “Jesus, Carolyn.”

“He’s guilty,” Pryce said.

“You don’t know that!” Stockton replied.

“The car I rented was totaled, Mr President. Totaled.” She stared at him. “I’m only alive because I predicted that. Because I tricked them into thinking I was still in that vehicle.”

“And another thing,” Stockton said. “How did you even get that gear?”

“Please, Mr President.” Pryce let the absurdity of the question sound in her voice.

Stockton shook his head. “Car crashes happen. It was icy out there.”

“Cars crash when there’s a human involved,” Pryce said. “Not two software-driven vehicles, colliding on an empty stretch of road.”

Stockton leaned back in his chair, brought his hands to his face.

“Jameson is guilty, Mr President,” Pryce said softly. “He knew the code words. He knew the names of false flag programs in memos that were never leaked. I saw it. I predicted that they’d take out the car. And they did. You told me to find out if we created the PLF. I’m telling you – we did.”

Pryce held herself steady, kept herself from shaking.

Stockton sighed from behind his hands. “OK.”

Pryce looked down at the floor, then looked back up. “What does that mean, Mr President? ‘OK’?”