Ramez Naam - Nexus

Nexus OS would have the tools to locate an open net connection. It wasn't running. It must have crashed last night when they'd tranqed him.

[nexus_restart] he mentally commanded. The boot sequence scrolled across his vision.

[Nexus OS 0.7 by Axon and Synapse]

[Built on ModOS 8.2 by Free Software Collective]

[8,947,692,017 nodes detected]

[9,161,412,625,408 bits available]

[visual cortex interface 0.64 ... active]

[auditory cortex interface 0.59 ... active]

[...]

More scrolled across his vision as the operating system they'd ported to the Nexus platform came to life. He paced as it booted.

In a top secret facility outside Washington, DC, two men stared at a wall screen. One man was tall, fit, square-jawed, in a dark suit, hands clasped behind his back – Enforcement Division Deputy Director Warren Becker. The other was a scientist, wearing rumpled clothes, in old-fashioned spectacles, with a shock of unruly white hair – Neuroscience Director Martin Holtzmann.

On the screen, a dark-skinned, bleached blonde man in prison fatigues was pacing a small, starkly white cell. Rangan Shankari.

"I still don't think this is necessary," Holtzmann said.

"We have to know if your weapon works," Becker replied.

Holtzmann shook his head. "It works. We've seen it work. Many times."

Becker turned to look at him, then looked back at the wall showing Rangan Shankari. "Martin, we need to know if it works against Nexus 5. We don't know what changes they've made since Nexus 3."

"We can find that out in animals," Holtzmann replied.

Becker raised an eyebrow. "And if it doesn't work the same in mice and in men?"

Holtzmann was silent for a moment. "There are dangers. We should do the animal studies first, assess the safety, then try humans."

Becker considered this for a moment. "We don't know when we'll have this opportunity again. If this doesn't work, we'll need to spend more time refining your weapon. If it does work against Nexus 5, we have that much more confidence that it will work against our eventual target."

Holtzmann grunted. "Warren, I can't ethically…"

Becker held up his hand to interrupt. Holtzmann paused.

"Thank you, Martin. Given our mission priorities, I'm going to proceed. I'll take note of your reluctance. We'll keep this as brief as possible."

Holtzmann bowed his head.

Becker pitched his voice to address the wall. "Activate Nexus disruptor."

Rangan could find no signal, on any frequency. The room seemed to be entirely EM shielded. Damn. What now?

Searing pain burst across Rangan's mind. His head was on fire, alive with thousand-decibel static, threatening to burst. A scream drove its way out of his lips. Every muscle in his body convulsed. He toppled forward to the floor. Errors and warnings streamed at high speed across his consciousness.

[interface ERROR – memory out of bounds]

[interface ERROR – memory out of bounds]

[interface ERROR – socket not found OXA49328A]

[interface ERROR – socket not found OXA49328B]

[interface ERROR – socket not found OXA49328C]

[interface ERROR – socket not found OXA49328D]

…and on and on and on… thousands of lines of hard errors scrolling across his vision, a massive fault like nothing he nor Kade had ever seen.

Rangan was dimly aware of hitting the hard concrete floor. Everything was a blur of pain and white noise. His mind was in complete overload. He swam through oceans of static. Through the confusion he could just barely grasp that something was wrong with the Nexus in his brain. He needed to stop it. There was something he could do… something… something… What was it? Fuck that hurt. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Another scream ripped through him, tore open his mouth against his will, roared its way into the echoing chamber of the cell. Thought vanished in a haze of pain and chaos. It was too much. There was no hope of coherence. There was nothing but noise, noise, nothing but noise in his mind.

And then it was over. The pain ended as abruptly as it had begun. The onslaught of static across all his senses was gone. The spear driven into his brain had evaporated. His head hurt where it had hit the floor. It was nothing compared to what he'd just endured.

Rangan drew breath, then shuddered. He was covered in sweat. His body was trembling. His breath came raggedly. He lay curled on the floor, shaking.

On the wall screen Shankari collapsed. His scream echoed out of the speakers. He curled on the floor, body spasming. Becker let it go on for a second, two, three, four…

"That's enough," Holtzmann said bitterly.

Becker nodded. "Halt disruptor," he spoke aloud.

Shankari's screams ended. The boy lay on the ground, curled in a fetal position.

"Are you satisfied now?" Holtzmann asked. His voice was acidic.

Becker nodded slowly, calmly. "Yes."

Kade woke to bright light and a voice informing him that he had five minutes until his interview. His mouth tasted like dirt, his stomach was in rebellion, and his head felt like it had been worked over by a sledgehammer. He relieved himself, splashed water on his face, and then it was time to go. Two guards took him from his stark white cell to a conference room at the end of the hall. The room was furnished with a large fake wood table, chairs, and a wall screen. Kade took a seat as directed, and waited.

Less than a minute later, a door at the far side of the room opened and an official-looking man in a suit and tie entered, holding a leather-bound slate. He was followed by a shorter, older man in a rumpled white shirt and glasses, his head topped by disorderly white hair. There was something familiar about the second man.

"Mr Lane," said the first man, as he made his way to the head of the table and sat. "I'm Enforcement Division Deputy Director Warren Becker. This is Professor Martin Holtzmann, whom you may know."

Holtzmann! thought Kade. He'd been Chair of the MIT Neuroengineering Department once. His lab had done good work in the neuroscience of volition. How was he involved with the ERD?

Holtzmann nodded in greeting. "Mr Lane," he said. He had a German accent.

Becker spoke. "Mr Lane, you're in some pretty serious trouble. You've been engaging in research in direct contravention of the Chandler Act. You've far exceeded the bounds of your ERD license. You've been caught engaging in the distribution and possibly the manufacture of a Schedule 0 narcotic. Do you understand the seriousness of your position?"

Kade's head had slumped as Becker talked. His eyes were on the fake wood grain of the table he was seated at. He didn't trust himself to speak.

After a minute, Becker spoke again. "You're in a deep pile of shit, Kade. The DEA wants to press full charges. My bosses want to classify you as a threat to humanity. The prosecutor assigned to this case has you down for–" Becker paused and looked down at his slate, "violating your ERD research limits, violating the Chandler Act in multiple cases, development of a coercion technology, employment of a coercion technology in the first degree, kidnapping an agent of the law, assaulting an agent of the law, and more. All of this together adds up to… a long, long time in a National Security Internment Center. Possibly life. Without parole. Those aren't pleasant places. You understand?"

Kade nodded mutely.

"Good. Now listen, this is an airtight case. The evidence is clear. If we press, you'll get all the penalties there are. But I don't think you're a terrorist. I think you've been stupid here, that's all. I'm on your side."

Like hell you are, Kade thought.

Becker was still talking. "There's a way that you can help your country and help humanity. And if you do, then we can waive most of the punitive action against you."