Anil holds his hands together. “We are so thankful, Dr. Sanders. Will you be our child’s godfather?”
Austin tears up. “Yes, of course, it would be my honor. Have you decided on a name?”
“We have,” Anil says with a smile. “She’s Lumi, short for ‘luminous.’”
“That’s a wonderful name. Like a ray of light. Lord knows we need more sunshine in this world.”
“Absolutely.”
“It will be an honor for me to be Baby Lumi’s godfather. I’ll protect her like she’s my own.”
“We are blessed to have you,” Prisha says.
“Of course, now let’s go to the leasing office.”
Anil takes a deep breath. “It is freeing not to have to worry about our living situation, especially with the uncertainties at work. I hope our jobs are secure with the new CEO. Will he be a good leader?”
“About that,” Austin mutters. “Beth isn’t giving up just yet. She wants to fight back.”
“So she’s still in charge?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“What can we do to help her?”
Austin pauses and contemplates. “Let me ask you this, Anil. How much deuterium do we have left?”
“Almost all of it. We used only a small fraction for the experiment last week.”
“Excellent.” Austin sits on a chair and rubs his chin. “What if we could fuse all the deuterium and tritium atoms we have? How much electricity would that produce?”
“You mean if we built a large-scale reactor?”
“Yes.”
Anil grabs his laptop. “I’ve run those calculations before. Assuming we exhaust our supply, our fuel will generate 500,000 gigawatts of power.”
“Wow, that’s a lot!”
“Yes, the equivalent of 250,000 coal-fired plants.”
“And it wouldn’t release a single atom of greenhouse gas?”
“Correct. It’s 100% clean energy.”
“How long will it take for the atoms to fuse?”
“About an hour.”
Austin’s brow rises. “That would be the longest nuclear reaction in history.”
“Precisely.”
Austin stands. “I know how we can save Beth and keep our jobs. Not only that, it will help us win the War and save Earth from extinction.”
Prisha and Anil look at each other.
“It’s time to execute Project Titan,” Austin proclaims. “We have to scale up and build an industrial reactor. It’s the last hope for the planet.”
“I agree, Dr. Sanders. I’m ready to help.”
“Is there a countdown from Barnard’s Star?”
Anil logs onto the JPL portal. “Yes.”
“When does it end?”
“In five days.”
Austin stares off. “Can we capture the incoming gravitational wave and trigger a 60-minute fusion reaction?”
“Five days is not a lot of time,” Anil says. “This time we’ll need to reach steady-state. The temperatures must stay at 100 million degrees for an hour.”
Austin chuckles. “You mean destroying a particle accelerator isn’t steady-state?”
“No. The reaction last week lasted a nanosecond. The challenge is holding that temperature and fusing the deuterium and tritium until our fuel exhausts.”
“How do we do that?”
“We need a gravity engine that will catch the wave and stably convert it to heat, keeping the laser temperature at a constant 100 million degrees.”
“That’s very complicated,” Austin says. “How will we figure it out?”
Anil shows his blueprints. “Our A.I. already has.”
“Ah!” Austin makes a fist. “Foxtail saves the day.”
“Correct. I ran simulations in our machine learning software and it designed the optimal schematics for the gravity engine. We have a working model. Take a look.”
Austin stares at the sketches. “This is brilliant. How many trials did Foxtail test before it came up with this one?”
“Decillions. There is no way a human could design something like this.”
“The power of A.I… I will inform Beth that the plans are ready. What do we need?”
“To build it in five days?” Anil’s eyes widen in excitement. “Materials like zirconium, titanium, and neodymium, not to mention an army of engineers and builders. This is a monumental task. Can we pull it off?”
“We have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Let’s go for it.”
“I’m in, Dr. Sanders.”
Austin pauses. “I remember Beth saying that the world’s largest laser is at the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory.”
Anil points. “That’s correct. It’s called the National Ignition Facility in Livermore, not far from here. It has a 500 terawatt neodymium beam.”
“Impressive. Can we transport it?”
“No, Dr. Sanders, it’s much larger than the Cyclotron. Moving it is impossible. We will have to construct the gravity engine within the facility.”
“I see. So we build our machine into the laser?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. Let me circle back to Beth and communicate our intentions. It’s full steam ahead on Project Titan. We will meet in Livermore.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Austin gestures. “But first, come with me to the rental office. I want you to move to a new apartment right now.”
Anil smiles. “If you insist, Dr. Sanders. How can I repay you?”
“Don’t mention it. Your contributions are crucial for the future of our company and indeed the world.”
After saying goodbye to Prisha, they exit and walk down the damp hallway to an elevator. Austin finds exposed wood beams soaking in ocean water. “These are not acceptable living conditions. Every unit on the floor must evacuate immediately.”
Anil looks back and whispers, “I received a notice last week to vacate. I didn’t tell Prisha and I don’t want her to worry. It’s a difficult time.”
They take the elevator up to the twentieth-floor and approach the leasing center. Austin opens the door. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, Anil. It’s too much pressure for one person.”
Anil steps inside. “I’m not the only one suffering. None of our neighbors have moved. There’s nowhere to go.”
“We are all in pain. Every year, I’m moving to a higher floor. It’s difficult to keep up with the rising water levels. There’s no longer any stability in the world.”
22.
AT HIS CIA OFFICE, Gareth Allen peers through his smartglasses when an incoming meeting request from “Director” flashes on the screen. He pulls his feet off the desk and sits upright, gathering himself before accepting the call. His boss appears in his field of view. “Good morning, Mr. Klein.”
“Gareth, we have an emergency,” Stan says.
“What’s happening?”
“The President wants to meet with us immediately.”
“Now?” Gareth’s eyes widen. “Is this about the War?”
“We can’t discuss over the line. The meeting starts in ten minutes. Get over to my jet and we’ll fly to the White House.”
Gareth frantically collects his jacket and belongings, slipping a dossier into a briefcase before running from his office. He nearly trips over his untied shoes before racing to an unmarked door and scanning in.
Short of breath, he pants as he approaches the receptionist. “Morning, Holly.”
She points down a hallway. “Mr. Allen, please proceed through the open door.”
Collecting himself, he ties his shoes and pins an American flag to his lapel. “Thanks, Holly. Never a dull moment around here.” He paces down the hall to find an elevator in a secret room.
Never seen this before.
He steps inside, his destination preselected for him. Seconds later he finds himself on the roof deck, stepping out into the deafening roar of a plane. He covers his ears as the engine hurls dust and debris in the air.
The aircraft’s hatch is open. Gareth runs towards the jet and takes a seat next to his boss.
“You’re late!” Stan hollers.
“Apologies, sir. Let’s go…”
The plane ascends and flies south above the island of Washington D.C. Concrete levees line the perimeter of the nation’s capital. In the distance, Gareth spots the flooded remnants of Alexandria, Virginia.
Stan grits his teeth. “What’s happening in New China?”
“They’re still imposing the blockade,” Gareth shouts. “No ships can get in and out. Doesn’t seem like they want to back down.”
“Have you updated the war plans?”
Gareth opens the briefcase. “Yes, sir, here it is. We have three spacecraft with EMP missiles en route to Mars.”
“Keep them on high alert. The President wants all options on the table.”
They fly over the Lincoln Memorial and land on a helipad on Pennsylvania Avenue. A military drone scans their irises and escorts them into the White House.
Gareth tries to keep up with his boss. “Sir?”
“What is it? Hurry, we’re late.”
“There are new developments. It seems another round of cyberattacks were launched.”
“From China?”
“I don’t have the details, sir.”
They enter the White House and pass an inspection point before heading to the War Room in the basement. Four generals huddle in a corner as cabinet members shuffle in.
Defense Secretary Carl Vinson approaches Stan and Gareth. “It looks like your stupid tariffs made things worse. The War is escalating because of you.”
Stan appears unfazed. “You’re wrong, Carl. The enemy is desperate and they’re acting out. We’re winning.”
“You should have listened to me, Stan. We agreed to focus on Russia and instead we have two fronts to worry about.”
Stan seethes. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
“You damn right I am! If you heeded my warning, we’d be in a better position.”
“So you want to appease the Chinese? That’s what traitors do.”
Carl leans forward. “Listen, your open hostility is a problem. Everything is a battle with you. Take a step back and see the big picture.”
“You’re a fucking moron.” Stan raises his chin and walks away to the executive table. Gareth grabs a chair behind his boss.
A Presidential staffer enters the room. “Please be seated. We will begin momentarily.”
Conversations turn to whispers and the emergency session convenes. The President enters with the Secret Service at his side, briskly taking a seat and ignoring the aides standing above him. “Let’s get started,” he says. “I want to first comment on the Summit we had last week. I had a chance to review the proposals and my enthusiasm is tepid at best.”
Gareth’s heart races and he pretends to take notes.
President Hughes broods. “We need more innovative solutions for the energy crisis. Your plans won’t move the needle when it comes to oil prices. Be prepared with new ideas. We will hold another meeting and I want to see bold initiatives this time. If you don’t meet expectations, you will be replaced.”
Deputies and generals steal glances at one another as tension grips the room. Stan stares at Carl in disdain.
The President reclines and places his palms on his head. “Let’s get on with this. I called you here to discuss concerns over China. Carl and Stan, as you are the Directors of Defense and CIA, I want you update the Cabinet on the recent developments.”
Carl turns to the group. “I would be happy to—”
“Mr. President,” Stan interrupts, “the Chinese are escalating the conflict. We have prepared a war strategy.” He grabs the documents from Gareth and places them in front of the President.
Carl tilts forward with clasped hands. “My colleague is mistaken. The CIA has gotten us into this mess. I blame their Information Tariffs for intensifying the War. The proper course of action now is to de-escalate.”
The room erupts in conversation.
An army general shouts, “It’s too late for that. We can’t go back in time.”
Stan grins. “Exactly right. We must counter China’s actions. They’ve laid siege to our colony on Mars. It is an act of aggression that warrants a tough response.”
The President appears unfazed. “Have they attacked New America?”
Stan nods. “Effectively. Their actions are definitely a provocation. Rockets can’t land and deliver equipment to our colony, and our soldiers are suffering. This is equivalent to armed conflict.”
“What do you propose we do?”
“As outlined in the dossier, Mr. President, we have three spacecraft equipped with EMP missiles, which were highly effective on the Russia front. Our spacecraft are heading to Mars now and we can launch a barrage at a moment’s notice.”
“And then what?” President Hughes asks.
“New China will be crippled—”
“The President is asking,” Carl declares, “for the repercussions of an assault. How will the Chinese respond? What are the consequences?”
Stan shrugs. “I don’t understand. We are at war. The purpose of military conflict is to destroy the adversary.”
Carl lifts his chin. “Not if it means shooting ourselves in the foot. If we confront the enemy, there will be retaliation. My guess is they will turn to their last resort, which would be nuclear weapons. Mr. President, if we launch missiles, we should be prepared for annihilation at home.”
The President grimaces. “We’ve gotten ourselves into a shithole.” He rubs his face. “If anyone launches nukes, the game is over.”
“EMP missiles are precise,” Stan assures. “We can take down New China while disabling nuclear facilities in Asia. Best of all, we won’t inflict any casualties. Even if we intend to de-escalate, we should first gain the upper hand prior to negotiating. Otherwise, the enemy will have the bargaining chips. Mr. President, I implore we use EMP to end the blockade.”
A staffer rushes to the President with a memo. He reads it with apparent concern. “More bad news. There’s another round of cyberattacks hitting banks and corporations across the nation.” He shakes his head. “This is unacceptable. What happened to the counter strikes I ordered last week?”
“We launched them,” Carl says. “They accomplished nothing. China has built a wall and our viruses can’t penetrate. That’s the advantage of an authoritarian system.”
The room quiets. Gareth leans to Stan and whispers. “I have an idea.”
Stan turns his head. “What is it?”
“Our man Manos runs Google now.”
“So what?”
“He can turn Silicon Valley into a war factory. We can design new munitions—A.I. viruses that evolve on the battlefield. They will penetrate China’s defenses easily.”
Stan’s eyes widen and he turns to the group. “Mr. President, we have a solution. Thanks to the successful Information Tariffs the CIA implemented, we have access to the country’s most valuable technology company, Google. We can develop the most sophisticated cyber weapons on the planet.”
The President looks at Stan. “I like what I’m hearing.”
“Sir, we will win with innovation,” Stan says. “In space and on the ground, we’ll launch EMP and disable the enemy, just as we did successfully in Greenland. Concurrently, Google will prepare next-generation arms for the second wave.”
The President sits quietly in contemplation. “Here’s where I stand.” All eyes turn to him. “Prepare the EMP missiles and remain on high alert. If China harasses our colony on Mars, we will immediately unleash in space and in Asia. Until that happens, wait for a green light from me.”
Stan beams. “Yes, Mr. President.”
“In the meantime, we need effective warfare that will disable the enemy. So far, nothing’s worked. Google represents the best of our country and it will be great to have them on our side. If they’re willing to help us, I would like to see new
A.I. weapons systems. Keep me informed of all developments.”
“Absolutely,” Stan asserts. “Our response will be overwhelming, sir.”
“Any other comments?”
Stan grins at Carl, who sits quietly at the conference table. The generals in the room appear upbeat.
“Meeting adjourned.”
Stan gets up and exits, rushing back to his jet drone. His long legs stride across the marble hallway to the White House entryway.
Gareth tries to keep up with his boss. “Great job, sir. That was excellent.”
Stan stares straight ahead. “Prepare a new war dossier with the President’s recommendations. And get Manos on the line. We need him to deliver.”
“He will, sir. Google will be our new armory.”
23.
ON A BLISTERING September morning in Berkeley, Beth steps into a chopper parked on her home’s helipad. She straps in and summons her A.I. “Cooper, fly me to the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory.”
“Okay, you will arrive in fifteen minutes.”
As the helicopter ascends and flies towards the East Bay, a request arrives in her Vision smartglasses. “Please grant access to Google’s private servers.”
“Cooper, who sent me this?”
“It’s from Seth Wengardt, Chief of Staff at GoldRock.”
“Why does he want our confidential data?”
“I don’t know.”
She frets as she looks down to the wide banks of the Sacramento River and the flooded cities of Richmond and Oakland. Stress floods her mind.
I have to stop Manos.
“Cooper, reject GoldRock’s attempt and get my executive staff on the line.”
On a tablet, a video conference launches and Beth’s staff appear. They are quiet and their expressions are grim.
Thomas speaks up. “I haven’t recovered from the All-Staff Meeting.”
Beth’s voice lowers. “Me neither. I’m deeply troubled by recent events.”
“It is depressing to see you leave like this.”
She points at the camera. “I’m not resigning. No one is forcing me out.”
Camila stammers. “You were right, boss. We should have pushed harder against the Information Tariffs. GoldRock had bigger intentions all along.”
Extinction 6 Page 17