Нил Стивенсон - Termination Shock

“Earlier today, a video was released on the Internet that appeared to show me saying certain things about the cabinet and its positions on the geoengineering question. This video is a fake. A very sophisticated fake that was produced by digital manipulation of real footage shot on that sad day in Scheveningen and doctored by unknown persons apparently seeking to disrupt the normal functioning of our democracy. We do not at this time know who produced this forgery or what their motives might be. An investigation has been launched, but definite results may not be forthcoming for a long time, if ever. In the meantime, my message to you as queen is that my commitment to the basic principles of our democracy remains unshakable and that under no circumstances would I, or any other Dutch monarch, dream of interfering in domestic politics in the manner that is falsely depicted in the fake video.

“As anyone who follows Dutch politics will know, the government was dissolved yesterday and has become a caretaker cabinet. All this happened in a manner consistent with our constitutional norms and with no involvement or influence from me. Likewise, the process of forming a new government, which will unfold in coming weeks and months, shall be one in which I shall be a mere bystander. In keeping with our norms, I shall await the verdict of our duly elected political parties and respect the outcome of that process as has always been the practice in the Netherlands since the creation of our system of government in its modern form. In the meantime I would warn all Dutch citizens to beware of fake videos that appear to depict me, or any other prominent persons, making statements with political significance.”

“Spot on” was Willem’s verdict.

“I thought I tripped over some of the words halfway through.”

“Just makes it seem more authentic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Someone producing a deepfake would probably try to make it look perfect.”

“Is that the sort of thing we must worry about now?”

Willem didn’t respond. Probably because it was an idiotic question. Willem nodded to the streamer, who nodded back and popped a memory card out of the camera. “I’ll clean it up, slap on the bumpers, and have it ready for review in half an hour,” he said.

“Faster would be better,” Willem answered with uncharacteristic snappishness.

“Putting out a garbage amateur video with bad sound and color isn’t going to help given the nature of the problem we are trying to solve,” pointed out the streamer on his way out of the room with the memory card between his knuckles.

Willem had no answer for that. But after the man had left he looked around at the crew, taking the lights down and pretending they hadn’t heard. Then he looked at Saskia and gave a little toss of the head that meant we need to talk in private .

It took him about a quarter of an hour to lay out the basics of what he had learned yesterday in the SCIF at Eindhoven.

“Sorry to break this to you now,” he said, “when there’s this whole other crisis happening.” He gestured back in the direction of where they had shot the video.

“Do you really think it’s a whole other crisis?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Because obviously all this is coordinated.”

“Yes.”

“The deepfake must have been produced some time ago. They—whoever made it—could have released it earlier. But instead they held it back until the day after the government had fallen apart on its own.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Willem said. “You’re right.”

“Why would they hold it back? Because if it had been released earlier, before the government had fallen, then the fall of the government would be blamed on me . It really would lead to a constitutional crisis in that case. Deservedly so.”

Willem nodded.

“But,” Saskia went on, “if it is released after the fall of the government is a fait accompli, then I can’t really be accused of unconstitutional meddling . . .”

“Only of being blunt and outspoken. Saying out loud what ordinary sensible people are already thinking.”

“The voice of the people,” Saskia said. “Which I have never claimed to be. But it seems the role is being thrust upon me. Presumably by whoever sabotaged the Maeslantkering.”

“That thing was the pride of the nation,” Willem said. “A symbol of our engineering prowess. Its destruction a huge psychological shock. The kind of thing that makes people sit back and reconsider everything. Whoever did it is creating an opportunity to reshape the way our politics works for a generation. Setting you up. Not to take the fall. More the opposite.”

“Well, I’m afraid whoever that is is just going to have to be disappointed,” Saskia answered.

Someone knocked on the door. “It’s ready,” came Fenna’s voice. “A triumph!”

“We’re coming,” Saskia called back. To Willem she said, as she was getting up, “First things first. Let’s get this done and then we can continue this conversation.”

A few rooms down the hall, the video crew had patched the streamer’s laptop into a big flat-panel screen and cued up the edited video for their review. Like all the queen’s official videos it opened with a “bumper” depicting the royal palace, with the arms of the House of Orange superimposed. Then it cross-faded to Queen Frederika sitting in that chair. And then she said the words she’d said. Then it cross-faded to the “outro.”

Heads turned toward Saskia. In truth, she’d barely seen it. Her eyes had been open and aimed at the screen, but her mind had been all over the place. “It’s fine,” she said, “put it up.”

That command was aimed at the royal webmaster. An antiquated job title—“social media coordinator” would have been more up-to-date—but it was common in royal courts to have outdated remnants of a bygone age. If Saskia could be guarded by men in bearskin hats riding horses, why, she could as well have a webmaster.

Accordingly, everyone looked at the woman who bore that title.

She was oblivious.

She was staring at the screen of her tablet, completely aghast at some new horror. To be perfectly honest, that was the usual emotional state, and the customary facial expression, of anyone who worked in the social media industry. But even by those standards she looked shocked.

She finally became aware that all attention was focused on her. She tried to say something but couldn’t get it out. Instead she flicked her fingers over the surface of her tablet and spun it around so that everyone could see it.

It was playing a video. The same video they’d just finished watching, or so it seemed through the intro. When that cross-faded to show Queen Frederika sitting demurely in her special chair, however, she was wearing a different outfit. One she had, in fact, worn recently in front of cameras. But she had never sat in that chair and delivered a speech while wearing it.

Nor had she ever spoken the words that she now, on this video, appeared to speak.

“I come to you this afternoon with an apology and a promise.”

“Where did you get this?” Willem demanded.

“It showed up on YouTube fifteen minutes ago!”

Everyone shushed them.

“Earlier today, a candid video was posted in which I was caught on film expressing certain views concerning the prime minister and the cabinet that should not have been said out loud by a reigning monarch. For that I apologize. Regardless of the frustration that I—along with all other Dutch citizens—may from time to time experience regarding our political process, it is not my place to utter such words in public. I did so thinking that I was merely expressing private sentiments to a small number of family members bereaved by the loss of loved ones in the disaster at Scheveningen. I was naive not to realize that my words might be captured and put up on the Internet where they have now become part of the public record. Again, for this I apologize.