Crisis- 2038

by Gerald Huff

  “Do we have locations yet?” asked Geiger.

  “I printed out the relevant IP addresses immediately and requested the packet data from the team outside the Sphere, sir,” replied the investigator.

  “Printed out? Goddamned Colossus isolation protocol, we may lose them!” Geiger picked up a bright yellow handset, which was connected via an analog hard line to an identical version outside the Sphere. He did a quick count of the windows on the big screen. “This is Mark Geiger. I want you to contact DTTF operations and let them know we hope to have up to fifteen targets for drones in the next few minutes. We want to run incapacitation ops, is that clear? Deadly force is not authorized.”

  The entire team waited anxiously for the techs outside the Sphere to prepare the packet stream data. Every minute that passed increased the odds that the LKC members would no longer be at those locations. Finally, a courier ran into the Sphere and headed for the upload workstation, where a technician took his storage device and plugged it in. Colossus made quick work of the data and within a minute a small cheer went up as the first GPS coordinates began to overlay the holoconference windows on the big monitor.

  Once they were all identified, a courier raced outside the sphere with a printed copy. Geiger spoke again into the yellow handset. “This is Mark Geiger. I am authorizing fifteen drone intercepts at the GPS coordinates being provided for non-lethal force only. Make sure they are synchronized to be simultaneous.”

  HOLOCONFERENCE

  “I’d like to canvas the group,” said Ellul. “We will not recall the worms yet. We will increase our attacks on infrastructure and the tech supply chain. And we will try to recruit new members to organize real-life events as a second priority.” A sudden loud crash interrupted him. Artemis jumped up and screamed, “Drone!” before the distinctive sound of Taser bolts firing.

  “Shit!” shouted Pam. JT hit the kill switch on their gear but the high-pitched whine outside their Austin rental home told them it was too late. Two drones crashed through their windows and instantly deployed their Tasers.

  In his San Diego apartment, Miles O’Connell jumped out of his chair and slammed the big red button that fried all of his computers and released a hydrochloric acid bath onto his hard disks. He did not understand how their 5K qubit encrypted transmissions had been broken and IPs geolocated. The drone that smashed through his window didn’t give him any time to figure it out.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  LOS ANGELES - FEBRUARY 1

  Matt Chandler, Special Agent in Charge of the LKC investigation, stared at the young man sitting across from him at the interrogation table. Even after years of work in counter-terrorism he could not understand the fanaticism that drove people to destroy the world around them, especially when they killed innocent people in the process. Matt had finished inspecting the LKC sites all over the country and flown to LA because Miles O’Connell was their highest value target. After eighteen hours of interrogation by the LA team, Miles had given them nothing. Chandler felt like strangling the terrorist right then and there, but they still needed information.

  “Miles, you can continue to play dumb,” began Chandler, “but let me review one more time where we are. We found your hidden server cluster. We found the launch folder for the worms. Our forensic team has reverse engineered them and we’re learning how to counteract them in the field. But it’s going slowly and more people are dying every day. There’s a kill script called ‘cancel’ that requires a pass phrase. Give me the pass phrase now and I’ll recommend against the death penalty in your case.”

  “I’ve got nothing to say, Chandler.”

  “You’re just going to let innocent people die?”

  “If that’s what it takes,” said Miles.

  “What it takes for what? What is your purpose in killing these people?”

  “The goal isn’t killing people, that’s an unfortunate side effect. The goal is to liberate people.”

  “You sound like some kind of goddamn brainwashed cult member. What kind of ideology is that? Liberate people from technology that keeps them fed and warm and healthy? Do you ever actually listen to yourself?”

  “Better to be cold and hungry than be a slave to technology,” said Miles.

  “That makes no sense! You’re a smart guy, Miles. When people are cold and hungry they are a slave to their fear and basest instincts. That’s why we’ve got gangs roaming the streets breaking into houses to steal food. Technology doesn’t enslave people, it frees them from a life solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.”

  “Oh, ha, the investigator knows some Hobbes. Congratulations.”

  “I know you studied Political Science in college. Didn’t they teach you anything about the incredibly positive impact of technology on human welfare over the centuries?”

  “I believe technology permanently reduces human beings and many other living organisms to engineered products and mere cogs in the social machine.”

  “Wait, that sounds familiar. Did you just quote the Unabomber’s manifesto?”

  “Required reading for LKC members,” sneered Miles.

  Chandler stood up. “Enough bullshit. Are you going to give me that pass phrase?”

  “Not a chance. Does that mean it’s time for the water-boarding? Oh yeah, that’s illegal. Unless President Teasley is willing to break those laws too? Don’t forget who knows exactly what went down with all the warrantless access. Are you sure you want to put me on trial? Could be very embarrassing for this administration.”

  “That’s it, we’re done.” Chandler stepped out of the room and signaled to the agent guarding the door. “Set up transport to Maclean Virginia ASAP.” The agent nodded and Chandler secure messaged his Director Mark Geiger. “No luck with MOC. Threatening to reveal task force access. Taking him to ENT Systems Maclean.”

  He called Amina Hamdi at ENT Systems. “Doctor Hamdi, how are the preparations going?”

  “Agent Chandler, we haven’t had enough time! Your techs only provided us the holoconference logs and avatars a few hours ago. And the 3D scans of the subject’s work space haven’t even gotten here yet!”

  “Everyone is working as fast as they can, Doctor. The subject will be there in a few hours, I know the brain scans and growing the neural lace assembly will take some time. Keep working on the simulation content in parallel. But remember every hour the death toll from this disaster keeps rising. You have to move as quickly as possible.”

  “We understand, Agent Chandler,” said Hamdi. “We’ll do everything we can.” After she dropped the call she looked a few yards away at the interrogation pod where Melissa King had died. With the breakneck speed of this preparation, she wasn’t sure she could prevent Miles O’Connell from suffering the same fate.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  THE OVAL OFFICE - FEBRUARY 2

  President Teasley sat in a chair in front of the Resolute desk with U.S. Chief Technology Officer Kara Morrigan and Chief of Staff Alex Turner on the couch to her right and Director of the Domestic Terrorism Task Force Mark Geiger and Attorney General Emma Wilcox on the couch to her left.

  “So, what you’re saying Mark is that this was an inside job?” Teasley asked.

  “That is what we believe. Miles O’Connell is an extremely senior systems specialist who was able to both download the personal data and inject the worms from inside DTTF.”

  “How did he get through the background checks?” asked Emma.

  “We’re not sure about that, but he never openly participated in any protests. It looks like his activity was all over 5K qubit encrypted sessions on the dark web, where it’s untraceable.”

  “Why didn’t your internal security protocols detect his activity inside DTTF?” asked Kara.

  “Unfortunately, Miles was one of the key architects of those protocols so he knew how to evade them.”

  “But the worm injection happened almost two weeks after the data dump. Why was the backdoor access kept ope
n?” Kara asked. Geiger did not appreciate being second-guessed by the USCTO.

  “At the time we didn’t know for sure where the data dump came from,” he said, “and we were pursuing many hundreds of leads.”

  “So, you put the entire country at risk so you could be more efficient with warrantless searches?” Kara asked.

  “Obviously we didn’t think the risk was that high. We were wrong,” he admitted.

  “Emma, what’s our legal exposure here?” asked Teasley.

  “DTTF was acting within the boundaries of executive order 14412 you signed on October 25th”, said the Attorney General. “As we discussed at the time, the mandates in that executive order are subject to constitutional review and some of them might not pass First and Fourth Amendment challenges.”

  “All of that will not matter to the American people,” said Chief of Staff Turner. “The bottom line is that this administration unlocked all the security gates and let one of its own personnel cause untold financial damage and the deaths of thousands of people. This is a political scandal, not a legal battle.”

  “But we did what we thought was right to protect the American people,” protested Geiger. “And Congress was working on new legislation to grant those very powers to us outside of the executive order.”

  “I agree, Mark, but that also will not matter,” said Turner. “Even if we had those laws passed and even if we intended only the best, the fact is that people in the executive branch itself perpetrated the worst terrorist attack in our nation’s history.”

  “Someone’s going to have to take responsibility for this,” said Kara. She was looking directly at Mark Geiger. The Director of DTTF looked at each of the faces in the room, ending with President Teasley.

  “I have worked harder than anyone in this room, anyone in this administration, to prevent terrorists from attacking this country. I will not be a scapegoat for doing my job!” said Geiger.

  “I’m sorry, Mark,” said the President. “Your employee was part of a terrorist organization. And your security protocols and decision to keep backdoor access open enabled him to launch multiple attacks against our country. I’m going to need your resignation. Today.”

  She turned to Alex Turner. “We’re going to need to go public. But I want good news to share. Keep me regularly informed on the state of the cyberattack. When we’ve turned the corner and the country is stabilizing I’ll make an announcement.” Teasley stood and her staff immediately jumped to their feet. “That will be all, thank you.”

  After the room cleared, Amanda Teasley circled around the Resolute desk and stood looking out over the expanse of pure white snow covering the South Lawn. How many Presidents before her had stood here at this very window when facing a severe crisis? Kennedy and the Cuban Missile Crisis. Bush after 9/11. Trump and the Korean nuclear conflict. Haley at the start of the Iran War. The burden of responsibility for the lives of four hundred million American citizens was overwhelming at times.

  Questions and doubts swirled in her head. This crisis would pass. But then, should she take advantage of the disruption in the status quo? Many historians had looked back at 9/11 and lamented the missed opportunity to alter the country’s relationship to the Middle East and fossil fuel consumption. A massive shock like this terrorist attack could create a once-in-a-generation chance to change direction. There was no doubt the preeminent issue at this moment was the impact of ever-more-powerful technologies on society, in multiple dimensions. Could she lead the nation through a partisan minefield to a new consensus? How would future historians judge her in this moment?

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  MACLEAN VIRGINIA - FEBRUARY 3

  Miles woke up slowly, groggy and aching from the Taser jolt. Why was he awake? Where were the police? He moved his head gingerly and saw the drone that tased him had crashed and was smoking in the corner of the room. That’s why it hadn’t been able to keep him unconscious. But the cops would be here any minute. He heard voices. “Thoreau! Thoreau!” He looked around, then realized they were coming from the hologlasses on the floor next to him. He slipped them on and saw Zurich and Geneva in a smoke-filled room holding shotguns. “Thoreau! Are you there?”

  “Yes,” he managed, “I’m here. What happened?”

  “We shot down the drones coming for us,” said Geneva. “But we don’t have much time. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Thoreau, we may need to stop the worm attack on our own, in case we can’t reach you,” said Zurich. “We need to know the pass phrase, what is it?” Miles shook his head. “What do you mean, Zurich?”

  “In case we can’t reach you we need to know the pass phrase for the cancel script, what is it?” said Zurich.

  “But you can’t send the kill signal, you’ll never get through. You don’t have access to DTTF keys and they closed all the backdoor access. The pass phrase is useless to you.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Geneva. “But if you’re caught and we vote to stop the attack we can give the pass phrase to DTTF. Hurry, Miles, we only have a few seconds until they get here,” pleaded Geneva.

  “Okay, I guess that makes sense,” said Miles. He shook his head again, trying to clear his mind. Something was wrong. “What did you just say?”

  “We only have a few seconds!”

  “No, you used my name. No one in the collective knows my name. What the fuck is going on here?”

  “Shit!” Matt Chandler slammed his hand down on the table. He glared at Amina Hamdi. “Shut it down, we need to try again.” Wei Chen tapped his simulation control tablet and eased Miles back into unconsciousness. His monitors indicated the graphene nanowire neural lace embedded in Miles’ brain was maintaining its structure and mental field resistance was nominal.

  “I told you we were too rushed,” said Hamdi. “But this sim was working. We were very close. Just a small mistake, easy to fix. Give us ten minutes.”

  “But if you’re caught and we vote to stop the attack we can give the pass phrase to DTTF. Hurry, Thoreau, we only have a few seconds until they get here,” said Geneva.

  “Right, that makes sense,” said Miles. “The pass phrase is…” He searched his memory.

  “What is it, Thoreau?” asked Zurich.

  “The pass phrase, trying to remember. Oh yes, it’s eat shit agent chandler.”

  “What the hell?” said Amina. “Did he just say eat shit agent chandler?” Matt Chandler stared at the interrogation pod a few yards away.

  “How is that possible?” he asked. “I thought you said short term memories were suppressed. He’s not supposed to remember anything after the drone intercept in his apartment. How does he remember me?”

  “I don’t know, he’s not supposed to be able to.” Amina thought for a minute. “Do you think he knows about this lab? If he did, he could have gamed the simulation by re-memorizing a different pass phrase. He would have just had to repeat the new content many times.”

  “I don’t think he knew about it, but it’s possible given his clearance level. Do you think he can still access the original pass phrase?”

  “I don’t know,” said Amina. “We’re in uncharted territory here.” The three of them stared at the interrogation pod.

  “We’re going to have to try the extreme sim,” said Chandler.

  “Agent Chandler, we can’t do that, it hasn’t been approved.” said Amina.

  “Doctor Hamdi, I am approving its usage. Start the prep.”

  “You don’t have the authority to approve it!” insisted Amina. The agent crossed the distance between them in a single stride, grabbed her forearm, and yanked her to her feet. He pulled her close so his face was just inches from hers.

  “Doctor. This man is a terrorist and a murderer. There are innocent people dying out there while you are playing at having a conscience. Now prep the goddamn simulation or I’ll throw you in jail for aiding and abetting a terrorist organization.” He pushed her back down into her chair. Rubbing her
forearm, tears in her eyes, she turned and nodded slightly to Wei Chen.

  Miles woke up slowly in unfamiliar surroundings. The last thing he remembered was the drone crashing through his window. He tried to move his head but it was somehow fixed in place. He couldn’t move his arms or legs either. The ceiling above him was metallic and reflective enough that he could make out his own body wearing only white shorts on a table of some kind. As his vision cleared he could see the straps binding him to the table and some kind of equipment arrayed around it.

  “Ah, I see you’re awake,” said a pleasant female voice. “I will be conducting your interrogation today.”

  “Who are you?” he croaked out.

  “I am an interrogation program.”

  “You’re an AI? That’s illegal, AI interrogation was banned by the U.N.”

  “Please examine the display above your head. This is the signed executive order by President Teasley authorizing any and all means to extract required information from one Miles O’Connell. Since I have verified the signature on the document and confirmed your DNA is that of subject Miles O’Connell I am fully prepared to proceed with the interrogation.”

  “I want a lawyer!” screamed Miles.

  “Now you can save yourself a great deal of trouble if you simply give me the information required. I have been programmed to ask you for the pass phrase for the cancel script. If you give me this information this interrogation will be over.”

  “I don’t believe you, this is illegal and you can’t touch me.”

  “Miles, I will need you to say ‘the pass phrase is’ followed by the pass phrase. My language processing is not very sophisticated.”

  “Go to hell, you fucking machine.”

  “As I did not recognize the required information, we will begin.” There was a whirring noise from the middle of the table. Miles strained to see what was happening in the partially reflective ceiling. A robot arm deployed towards his right leg. There was a click, a flash of blue light, and a steady hissing sound.