Rescind Order

by Natasha Bajema

  Martinez scrunched up his face. “Um… a false positive is when the system detects a condition when the condition is absent. You’re saying ARC has identified a threat that doesn’t exist and now wants us to act on that assessment.”

  Grace nodded.

  He scratched his head. “Given what we know about the model of nuclear deterrence, equating the forward deployment of submarines with an offensive move doesn’t make logical sense. China would never initiate a preemptive nuclear attack on the U.S. from its submarines. If they’d ever consider a first strike against us, they would more likely use their land-based intercontinental ballistic missiles in order to minimize damage from our inevitable retaliatory attack. ARC must be overreacting to new patterns in China’s submarine deployments.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought,” Grace said. “It is possible ARC doesn’t understand China’s move and therefore has erroneously assigned it an offensive value. Recent ISR data may have produced a heightened threat environment, changing the patterns ARC sees in the data and causing it to recommend an increased alert status. But that’s not the worst part. If I’m right, ARC may have changed its internal rules about the relationships among the input and output data. For example, ARC could now think that submarines might be used for a first-strike attack rather than second-strike retaliation.”

  Martinez shrugged with uncertainty. “Okay, let’s say ARC has produced a false positive as you suggest. And it has tweaked its algorithms to produce different outcomes moving forward. What’s the worst possible thing that could happen?”

  Grace bit her lip. “Well, since the different components of ARC are linked together, perceived changes in the relationships among the ISR data and outcomes will shape the context for all other decisions made by the system and that could have disastrous consequences.”

  “Like a domino effect?” Martinez asked.

  Grace nodded. “In the event of a false alarm from the early warning component, ARC may now be more likely to overreact, causing it to prematurely order the launch of U.S. nuclear weapons. Right now, the system appears to be getting defensive and offensive moves mixed up. What if ARC learns that offensive moves are good or that nuclear war is winnable?”

  Martinez’s mouth fell open. “If we take it to the extreme, you’re saying that ARC could start interpreting every country with nuclear capabilities as dangerous and therefore preemptively bomb them all in order to ‘win’?”

  Grace nodded grimly.

  “That’s completely nuts! How is this even possible?”

  “The problem is no one really understands how ARC works,” Grace said. “I’m not even sure myself why this is happening without spending several days to study the algorithms. All I can tell you is that it’s happening and then speculate about the cause. But if we’re not careful, ARC could initiate an unintended nuclear war with China. That is, if our leadership blindly follows through with ARC’s recommendations.”

  “Very good work, Major Lim. I assume you’ve briefed your boss about this?”

  Crap.

  Grace frowned, avoiding eye contact. “No, Captain Dietz hasn’t come in yet this morning.” She didn’t like lying to Martinez, but she didn’t want him to change his mind about inserting her talking points into the read-ahead. And as far as she knew, her boss hadn’t arrived yet.

  Martinez raised his eyebrow. “Hmm. He’s not going to be very happy with you if we go over his head and take this directly to Chairman Waller. Are you sure you want me to put it in his read-ahead?”

  “I don’t see another way,” Grace said, her chin dropping. “But I understand if you don’t want to knock heads with a bunch of stars.”

  Martinez shook his head. “I’m not afraid to take the risk if you are okay with the consequences… it’s just that my military career is a bit more insulated from the potential fallout. But I’ll try my best to give you some top cover.”

  Grace exhaled sharply and looked him in the eyes, overwhelmed with gratitude. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

  Martinez tapped his watch. “Unfortunately, I have to get to a meeting at the White House shortly. Can you be prepared to explain to the chairman how this happened in as simple language as possible?”

  “Sure, no problem,” Grace said.

  Holy crap. I’m going to brief the chairman.

  12

  The Butter Battle

  SUSAN

  0650

  Executive Residence

  The White House

  Lost in thought, Susan stared glumly out the half-moon window in the West Sitting Hall. The day was already shaping up to be a doozy, and she really wanted to climb back into bed and pull the covers tightly over her head. But no matter how she felt, Susan needed to dig deep and find the resolve to face the mess in front of her.

  I’m the president now.

  Her chest tightened when she heard a distant chanting noise. Apparently, the din of the protesters shouting in Lafayette Park could reach the far west-facing corner of the White House. Immediately after President Monroe’s death, the Campaign Against Killer Robots had sprung into aggressive action in a new drive to persuade her to veto the autonomous weapons bill. She shook her head and sighed heavily.

  They think I’m their only hope.

  In reality, autonomous weapons systems existed in many countries around the world. Even the Department of Defense had developed its own autonomous weapon systems capable of operation on land, in the sea, and in the air. But until now they’d operated with at least one human in the loop, ready to intervene if the system reached the wrong decision. But now, all Susan had to do was sign the legislation, giving military commanders the green light to flip the switch, taking humans completely out of the loop and allowing machines to kill autonomously.

  Even if I veto the bill, I’m not sure if I can stop it. The rise of autonomous weapons systems seems inevitable.

  Susan turned away from the window and took in a beautiful scene on the other side of the room—Blake, Lucy, and Penny sitting quietly, blissfully ignorant of her inner turmoil. A feeling of warmth filled her chest. Her blonde hair still mussed from sleeping, Lucy snuggled on the couch with her favorite stuffed bear, tightly clasping her reading tablet. Penny lay next to her, snoring lightly.

  Susan stole a wistful glance at Blake, who was sitting in his new recliner. Her shoulders sank when he didn’t return one of his famous blue-eyed twinkles or at least an encouraging smile. Sadly, his ruggedly handsome face hid behind the huge state-of-the-art VR goggles she’d gotten him for his birthday.

  Blake wore a classic Oxford button-down shirt, khaki pants, and brown loafers, befitting his role as a professor of technology and politics at Georgetown University. Susan always found it amusing that he wore such clothes even when he didn’t have to teach class. During the summer months, her husband took a break from teaching to serve as the primary caregiver for Lucy. For the remainder of his time, he focused on his duties as the First Man—though he’d found a way to outsource most of that work to his eager staff and hired a nanny to look after Lucy for part of the day.

  Must be nice.

  Susan shook her head at her husband’s goggles and tried to ignore the pulling sensation in her gut. Lately, Blake spent much of his free time in the VR newsroom which featured multimedia stories from all major news stations. In VR, he was surrounded by a maze of video, images, audio, and graphics—all accessible with an easy flick of his wrist. He particularly enjoyed the real-time back-and-forth banter between the co-hosts of The Counter View. If Blake had gotten lost in any of the breaking news storylines for the day, he might be distracted for a while.

  Just then, Susan watched as his hand reached for the last piece of toast on his breakfast plate. It was smeared generously with butter and blackberry jam. He felt around the surface of the table with his hand, missing the plate each time. The corners of Susan’s lips turned upwards as his hand landed smack in the middle of the toast, covering his fingers with dark purple jam.


  As if he’d sensed her keen observation, Blake slid the goggles up onto his forehead with his clean hand, shot her a goofy grin, and licked his sticky fingers one at a time. Then he stuffed the toast into his mouth and chewed loudly.

  He’s still such a kid sometimes.

  Susan’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but her long to-do list tugged on her thoughts. At times, it felt like she was traveling back and forth between two different galaxies—one was cold and gloomy, darkened by the worst tendencies of humanity. And in that galaxy, it was her job to protect the entire country. The other one was light and airy, in which she’d married her best friend and the love of her life. After years of trying to get pregnant, they now shared a bright and precocious daughter and cherished every minute of raising her to be a confident woman.

  She shook her head and mumbled to herself, “Sign or veto. Either way I lose.”

  “Susie, what’s troubling you so?” Blake asked in a singsong voice, appearing not to have heard her.

  Her mouth twitched slightly at her childhood nickname. Blake always knew how to reach her when she’d retreated into her innermost thoughts. She hadn’t told him any of the details from the early morning intelligence briefing. She’d fully confide in him when it was time to make decisions. He was the only one of her advisors she truly trusted—except Elise, of course.

  Susan grimaced and raised her hand in the air to count the crises on her fingers. “Let’s see. The president’s sudden death last weekend. China’s aggressive behavior on Twitter this morning and their suppression of protesters in Hong Kong. The rise of autonomous weapons systems. Planning my good friend’s funeral. Am I missing something?”

  Oh yeah. The submarines we lost track of…

  “Most likely,” Blake said, smirking at her. “You are in charge of everything these days.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Susan said dryly.

  “But what’s bothering you the most?” Blake asked.

  She went silent for a moment, pondering the right answer to his question. “No single thing stands out yet. I guess it’s a little bit of everything for now.”

  “Do you know what you’re going to do?” Blake asked.

  Susan furrowed her brow. “About what?”

  “Are you going to sign the bill?”

  “Oh, that.” Susan shrugged and scrunched her nose. “Honestly, I don’t know. Ideologically, I’m opposed to autonomous weapons systems. But these systems have existed now for more than five years. This bill just turns them on.”

  Blake’s forehead wrinkled. “Let’s say the U.S. doesn’t leverage the speed of machines on the battlefield. Won’t we be in danger of losing military conflicts with China and Russia?”

  Susan gave him a warning look. “Don’t get me started on the potential dangers of transferring kill decisions to robots on the battlefield.” She pressed her lips together. She couldn’t imagine facing down a more terrible dilemma as her first few days as president. In many ways, she considered it an equally fateful decision as the one made by President Roosevelt to develop the atomic bomb. That was more than ninety years ago. “Basically, I lose no matter what decision I make.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, if I sign the bill, the political left will call me a conservative hack, disguised as a moderate,” Susan said. “And if I’m unlucky, they’ll go as far as to denounce my efforts to address the climate change crisis. What if they create barriers to prevent success? That’s my life’s work.”

  Blake rubbed his chin. “But wouldn’t that go against their own agenda?”

  Susan wanted to roll her eyes but closed them for a moment instead. “Blake, this is politics in the real world, not your ivory tower.”

  He winced.

  “For decades now, it’s been a zero-sum game in our country with the entire population polarized by opposing ideologies,” she said. “Sure, we had a brief reprieve after the Nightfall Incident and were able to unify across party lines on a few things. But I get the sense people are eager to get back to demonizing each other. And now that Harrison is gone…” A thick lump formed in her throat. “What if my clean energy deal with China falls apart?”

  “Well, if you think signing the legislation will cost you all the progress you’ve made on climate change with China, you could just veto the bill,” Blake said. “It’s your choice. You’re the president.”

  Susan rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m worried that would be worse. If I veto the bill, the Republicans, maybe even some Independents, will lambast me for not standing by President Monroe’s precious legislation. They might even question my ability to serve as commander in chief for not doing what’s in the best national security interest of the U.S. Hell, they’ve already started doing that behind the scenes.”

  Blake tilted his head, his eyebrow raised. “They wouldn’t do that in the middle of a crisis with China, would they?”

  “Why not?” Susan’s body tensed at the notion. “No matter what I decide, I’ll be accused of committing a terrible betrayal.”

  “I’m sorry, hon. It’s a tough spot.” He went silent for a moment, and then a sly grin crossed his face. “If we’re not careful, Skynet will kill us all.”

  Always humor to defuse tension.

  Susan narrowed her eyes, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I don’t have time to be worried about robots turning against humanity. I’ll settle with making it through the day without starting a nuclear war with China.”

  “That bad, eh?” Blake asked, his brow furrowing. “You did get up awfully early this morning. Did Elise call you out of bed?”

  Susan nodded. “I’ve convened a cabinet meeting for—”

  “Momma, is China and Russia gonna build a Bitsy Big-Boy Boomeroo?” Lucy asked in a high-pitched voice. She rose from the couch and tottered absentmindedly toward Susan, her face glued to the screen. Penny jumped off the couch and stretched her legs. “Will we haft to move underground like the Yooks and the Zooks. Because the Chinese don’t like us?”

  “Sweetie, what are you talking about?” Susan asked, her eyebrows squishing together as she gazed into her daughter’s face.

  Sometimes when she looked at Lucy, it was as if Blake’s bright blue eyes were staring back at her. Lucy had inherited her father’s good looks and was the spitting image of Blake. When Lucy was a baby, Susan had desperately hoped that her daughter would also receive his laid-back personality. In recent years, however, they both noted a growing number of traits that came from Susan’s side. Lucy possessed a deep-seated curiosity about all things that couldn’t be unequivocally explained and kept her parents on their toes.

  Lucy pointed to her tablet. “The Yooks and the Zooks live on opposite sides of a wall because they butter bread on opposite sides. They don’t like each other very much. So they build bigger machines to fight each other. But then they can’t shoot the machines, or they will both be destroyed forever.”

  Susan moved toward Lucy to get a better view of the tablet. “Honey, what in the world are you reading?”

  “I’m reading my new book.” Lucy grinned. “Daddy gave it to me.”

  Susan’s eyes widened, and she turned to face Blake, heat warming her ears.

  “It’s a Dr. Seuss book,” he said with a defensive tone.

  “A Dr. Seuss book about nuclear conflict. You gave this to Lucy? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Susan put her hands on her hips.

  Blake gave her a look, begging her not to argue in front of Lucy. “Babe, it’s called The Butter Battle Book. Dr. Seuss wrote a parable about arms races to help kids understand the situation between the U.S. and the Soviet Union during the Cold War.”

  “And you decided to give Lucy this book without telling me?” Susan asked, her voice still raised.

  His hands flew up in the air. “Susie, c’mon. It’s a kid’s book. I thought it would help. Lucy hears things when we talk, and she was asking all sorts of difficult questions this morning when you left the bed. She kept asking why you didn’t wake her
up with a good morning kiss. I had to explain—”

  A loud knock at the door startled them.

  Elise poked her head in and said, “Madam President, there’s been another development with China, and you’re needed in the Oval Office right away. The secretary of state is waiting to fill you in.”

  “Now?” Susan asked, her jaw clenched.

  Elise looked at Blake and then at Lucy and then back at Susan.

  “It’s okay,” Susan said. “Lucy is riled up about China. Apparently, Blake thinks six-year-olds can handle learning about the ins and outs of international politics and nuclear weapons.” She threw a sideways glare at Blake before looking back at Elise. “What’s happened now?”

  Elise looked at her with some uncertainty. “Um… okay. China’s Ministry of Public Security ordered a crackdown on the demonstration in Hong Kong about an hour ago.” She paused.

  “And?”

  “Ensuing escalation between protesters and police officers led to the slaughter of several thousand unarmed civilians, according to news reports. Ma’am, that exceeds the bloodshed of the Tiananmen Square Massacre.”

  “Momma, what’s a massacre?” Lucy asked, her teddy bear hanging from her hand.

  Shit. Blake might have a point.

  Susan gulped, shot an apologetic look at Blake, and then exited the room.

  My can of worms just got much bigger.

  13

  Fake News

  TORI

  0700

  Homeland Network News

  Washington D.C.

  Tori sat behind the news desk on the set of The Counter View and studied her script for the morning news hour, making small notes in the margins. A makeup artist finished off Tori’s face with a few dabs of blush for color and some ivory matte pressed powder to reduce the shine. To maximize her appearance, Tori wore a solid teal dress, which made her skin tone appear warmer on camera. Her blonde hair was tied back in a tight bun.