Judgment Road (Torpedo Ink #1)

“Miss Hightower was just going to tell me where she disappears to when she isn’t at the university, which is often,” Cheng said.

  “It’s a little embarrassing,” Zara said, acting reluctant. She snuck a quick glance at Zhu as if talking in front of him was the reason she would be embarrassed. “I work very hard for long periods of time without sleeping or sometimes eating. I realize it isn’t the best thing for my health, but I just can’t remember to eat or sleep when I’m on to something. I’ve been known to wake up in the middle of the night and use my walls for paper to write on. I often take breaks, sometimes just a couple of weeks, but often longer, to regroup. I go on retreats where I don’t have access to a computer, phone or television. I have to shut out the world entirely. Sometimes I sleep for twenty-four straight hours.”

  “That makes sense.” Zhu jumped to her defense. “Cheng told me you were a child prodigy, one of the leading AI experts at a very young age.”

  “It’s such a fascinating idea,” Zara said, pouring enthusiasm into her voice, hoping neither man would realize she hadn’t answered the question of where she’d been. Only what she’d been doing. “Artificial intelligence is a growing field, covering so many things that could be useful. People have the mistaken idea that it is just robotics—although that alone is amazing and forward thinking—but it’s so much more.”

  “We spend some time and energy on robotics here,” Cheng said. “You think that’s a waste of time?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just that artificial intelligence can be used in a much broader scope. I don’t want any student to get bogged down thinking in a box. Just thinking one thing. Already we have a small examples of machines learning. They can help so many people. On a small scale, people stuck in houses can just ask their devices to order food or supplies for them. If an elderly man or woman falls in their home, they can call out to their device and have it call for an ambulance or family member. The possibilities are limitless.”

  There was genuine enthusiasm in her voice. She sat up straight and her face lit up. Her eyes did as well. She was very aware of the changes in her and allowed them. She wanted Cheng and Zhu to see she was exactly what she said she was, a very young professor who believed in exploring artificial intelligence.

  “Why did you choose a subfield like machine learning versus something else, like robotics?” Cheng asked.

  “I like machines. I like programming, not that I do much of that anymore myself, but numbers speak to me. Machines are logical.” Her long lashes fluttered. “I get carried away when I talk about my work. Please forgive me. What else do you need to know before I give my talk to your people, Mr. Cheng? I don’t want to take up any more of your time than I need to. It’s getting late and I’m certain your employees need to get home.”

  “They would wait all night to get a chance to ask questions of you, Miss Hightower,” Mr. Cheng said. “Your briefcase has few papers we can understand. Your code appears to be unbreakable. Did you devise it yourself?”

  She burst out laughing. “The few papers you can understand are used for my talk. The others are sequences of numbers I put together when I’m working out a problem in my head. It soothes me.”

  “Hasn’t anyone ever stopped you, believing it’s a code of some kind?”

  She shrugged. “It’s happened, but eventually they realize it’s nothing but me doing something repetitious that helps me think.”

  Cheng’s brows came together and he regarded her with skepticism. “Didn’t you have trouble coming into the country with those papers?”

  “I only had a couple of papers with numbers at the time and someone assured those holding me that it’s no code but random sets of numbers repeated over and over on several pages. That ensures everyone thinks I’m a little eccentric, which I probably am.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Cheng said, suspicion in his voice.

  “It does if she’s OCD,” Zhu pointed out, looking straight at Zara. “Those random numbers are repeated in sets of three.”

  Zara didn’t change expression and she kept her heart rate exactly the same—a nice steady rhythm, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. As if she wasn’t sitting in a room with two deadly vipers ready to strike at any moment. Zhu’s answer meant he’d looked at those papers.

  A timid knock announced the arrival of the tea. It was Zhu who physically got up and opened the door. Zara found that fascinating. He didn’t call out to the woman carrying in the tray, but he got up and took the tray from her. She never entered Cheng’s office, and Zhu lowered himself to carrying the tea tray. He set it on the small table in front of Zara. She knew she was really in trouble. Zhu didn’t care what others thought of him. He didn’t stand on protocol or ego. That made him very, very dangerous.

  Was Cheng so paranoid that he didn’t allow anyone into his office? Probably, she decided. “I don’t mind pouring the tea for everyone,” she said, pitching her voice low, almost submissive. “I don’t know if that would be offensive to either of you. I’m unsure of the custom when there is no other woman in the room.”

  She knew Cheng would never pour her tea. He’d already stepped far back as if that would save him from having to do such a menial task in front of her.

  Zhu had no such problem. He simply smiled at her and shook his head. “We are very modern here, Miss Hightower. I have no problems pouring you tea.” He suited actions to words, picking up the little pot and pouring the liquid into three cups.

  She watched very carefully, making certain he didn’t put anything in the tea. He poured quickly and efficiently, his long fingers looking incongruous on the small cups. He was mesmerizing. Frightening, but mesmerizing. Bolan Zhu was a very scary man. He appeared modern and sophisticated, very charming with his white teeth and startling green eyes. His shoulders were wide, filling out his suit beautifully, and when he walked, he seemed to glide.

  She noted that he served Cheng first and her second. They weren’t quite as modern as they wanted her to believe. She took the cup of tea, observing that Zhu’s index finger touched the rim, sliding around it in one continuous motion. The drug was on the outside of the cup, not the inside, but it was where her lips would go no matter where she placed them. Zhu also took a cup and deliberately brought the teacup to his mouth and drank. Cheng also drank. Both watched her.

  Zara had a couple of choices. She could drop the cup and “accidentally” break it, or she could drink it and hope they weren’t trying to kill her. She suspected Zhu would interrogate her, and whatever drug he’d just introduced to the rim of the cup would compel her to the tell the truth. She lifted the cup to her lips and sipped. She had to take the chance. She knew if she didn’t, Zhu would probably incarcerate her and that wouldn’t go well for her at all.

  “Have you been taken around the city at all?” Zhu asked.

  “No. I haven’t had time. I’ve been here four times and mostly I see the inside of hotels or facilities where I’ve been asked to speak,” Zara said, taking another sip. She looked at the liquid in the teacup. “This is exceptionally good. I don’t think I’ve ever had this before and I order tea all the time.”

  Zhu sat in the chair closest to her and Cheng seemed to fade into the background. “All our teas are made from one single plant, did you know that? It’s actually an evergreen shrub that can grow into a small tree and live over a hundred years. It grows in Southeast China and the leaves are harvested year-round.”

  He watched as she sipped at the tea. She smiled at him. “Well, it’s excellent.”

  “Why did you come here?”

  “I was invited, of course. I don’t like to travel that much anymore, so I only go where I’m invited.” She frowned. Something was definitely working on her brain. She had to puzzle it out fast. “That’s not exactly true. I turn down a lot of invitations as well. I travel to the countries I’m interested in. Ones that are beautiful, but then I don’t get to see them because I’m working.”

  Was she babbling? It sounded like it to
her, but the words just tumbled out. She had to rein it in. Think. Force her brain to process whatever it was and work around it. She was good at repeating numbers in her head. That would lessen the effect of the drug on her. She watched the reactions of the two men and realized they expected her to babble and blurt things out. Well, she could do that.

  “You find our country beautiful?”

  “Don’t you?” she countered. “It’s so alive. I love the people.” She didn’t have to lie about that. “There are so many things to love.” She put her fingers over her mouth as if embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually carry on this much.” She took another sip of tea, careful to keep her mouth in exactly the same place. She didn’t need a larger dose of Zhu’s truth drug. Was it a new strain? Something that didn’t slow her mind? It had to be a new strain. This wasn’t making her slow and sleepy. It wasn’t slowing her brain at all. What was it doing to her? She continued to count sequences of numbers in her head and solve intricate problems. It helped to clear her mind of the effects of the drug.

  Zhu leaned into her, took her teacup from her and placed it on the table. Very gently he turned her hand over and stroked her wrist once. Something slithered through her mind, something unsettling that coiled hotly in her belly. He was looking at her differently. Not with the eyes of a viper, but more like a predator—a wolf or a tiger, something with teeth about pounce. Her heart jumped. Stuttered. His fingers pressed into her wrist, right over her pulse, and she forced calm when she felt more threatened than ever.

  “Do you wish Mr. Cheng harm?”

  Her gaze leapt to Zhu’s face. “Harm? Of course not. He seems a very nice man. He asked me to talk to his employees. I thought perhaps they would benefit from my work.” She needed to blurt something out. Something true. “You have a really beautiful mouth. I should know. I notice mouths all the time.” That was a truth that seemed to come flying out. She put her hand over her mouth again and tried to pull her arm away at the same time.

  Zhu smiled at her and clamped his fingers around her wrist, but so gently she almost didn’t realize he was holding her still. “Thank you. I was thinking the same of yours. What is the true reason you’ve come to see us tonight?”

  His voice was extraordinary. She almost told him so, but that calm she called on, the one that kept her heart from beating out of control, thankfully prevented her from blurting out that he was mesmerizing. Spell-binding. “I came to talk about a new project my team has developed to Mr. Cheng’s chosen researchers, the ones he thought would be interested in my work.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered at him because she knew it was expected of her. She wasn’t a flirt. She never flirted because it would be fruitless to flirt. She couldn’t have a relationship with anyone. She was forever alone. Now that her best friends were gone, she was truly alone.

  “You look sad.”

  Those long fingers stroked her arm, sending more ripples of awareness snaking through her. It was more unsettling to her than if he’d put a gun to her head. “Do I? I guess I was thinking sad thoughts.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I lost my best friends recently.” She lifted her chin, making her eyes go wide in seeming surprise that she’d blurted out such a personal detail. “That’s personal and not pertinent to what I need to be doing here. Please take me to this group. It’s already late, and I’m getting tired.” It wasn’t the drug making her tired, but she knew it made her susceptible to Zhu and his mesmerizing voice. She could feel his pull on her. She kept up the numbers running in her head, combating the drug in the only way she could.

  Zhu immediately pulled back and looked at Cheng who nodded. “Mr. Cheng thought you might like a tour of the facility. He’s very proud of it and the work environment he’s created here. It’s a haven of sorts for his people. They’re very loyal to him. He provides apartments, day care, and even exercise rooms.” He stood up and gently tugged on her hand until she was up with him.

  The touch of his skin on hers sent an electric current sizzling through her. What was that? She hadn’t experienced it before. Not. Ever. The drug wasn’t a date rape drug, but it was something that made her respond chemically to him. In her mind, she gave a delicate shudder. She knew such things existed and they could even be permanent, causing the woman or man to be obsessed with the person giving off the pheromones.

  Zhu led her out of Cheng’s office, one hand on the small of her back. She’d never been so aware of another human being in her life as she was of Bolan Zhu as he walked her through the facility. She noted that several floors were avoided and most of the people failed to greet Zhu; in fact, they kept their eyes downcast.

  It was definitely pheromones. Some kind of drug that made her physically susceptible to him. His fingers burned through her clothing right into her skin. She snuck a glance up at him. His breathing was much better than her own but not quite normal. He’d had to touch the drug with his fingers before administering it onto the rim of the teacup. He’d drank his tea. Had he touched his fingers to his mouth? She couldn’t remember. Her body had grown hot. She was almost too uncomfortable to listen to the sound of his voice.

  Zara managed to ooh and ahh in all the right places, but it was clear to both of them that she was struggling against her attraction to Zhu more than she was paying attention to the things he was showing her. After all, that was the point, wasn’t it? She kept that uppermost in her mind, so she wasn’t too ashamed of herself for the fight she had to put up to not give in to the drug’s effects. And she kept solving number problems in her head.

  Before her talk, she had him take her to the ladies’ room. She threw up like she did every time before she gave her talk. From experience she knew, once she got started, she would be fine, but the idea of standing before colleagues, others interested in AI work, always made her feel incredibly sick. She knew if Zhu was aware she was ill, he would think she had something to hide. He would never consider it nerves. She carefully rinsed her mouth and ate the strong peppermint candy she always carried before rejoining him.

  “I’d like to take you on a tour of our city,” Zhu said as he brought her to the auditorium where they’d set up a podium for her. Her briefcase was there, sitting right beside the glass of water provided for her.

  “I’d love that.” She’d be long gone, thankful she’d escaped with her life.

  He took her straight to the podium and Zara immediately slipped into her role. She hated everything about her life but this: talking about what she loved and believed in with those interested. That, more than anything else, always allowed her to escape the horrible shyness that made her the worst traveler ever. She had developed the character everyone saw and believed, and she hid behind her. Once she got past her nerves, she could settle into explaining the program and why it could be so helpful on so many levels.

  Zhu stood to one side. Close. Beyond the lights she could see a half dozen men with automatic weapons at the entrances. She pretended not to, but it was a very definite fight to keep her heart rate normal.

  At her introduction, conducted by another very charming man in a suit, the applause was enthusiastic. She wondered if Cheng had threatened all of them—applaud her loudly or my goons will shoot you.

  “Good evening. My talk is called the VALUE System, the program you’d love to have as a partner. I think you’ll see why in just a moment …” She trailed off and scanned her audience. She’d given her talk dozens of times already and knew it was cutting edge. They would be hanging on every word if they were really interested in artificial intelligence and what it could do for them.

  She reached out to the machines on the first floor. The computers. Touching them with her energy, that psychic gift Dr. Whitney had so carefully enhanced. She could talk to machines and they listened with rapt attention just as these people were listening. She had the ability to serve as a wireless conduit between the remote computers and her wireless hard drive. She instructed the remote computers to transfer their data from every one of the c
omputers, floor by floor, and store it in the PEEK-carbon nanotube hiding the SSD in her brain.

  “Since the 1960s, AI game playing systems have been fixated on winning. Every twenty years there is a quantum leap in AI programs’ ability to win. Arthur Samuel built the first self-learning program in 1959, a program that learned how to play checkers increasingly better over time. The program reached a respectable amateur level status of play by the 1970s. Fast forward twenty years, and in 1997 you could watch the deep learning program, Deep Blue, beat the reigning world chess champion, Gary Kasparov—an amazing accomplishment! Fast forward another twenty years, and in 2017 you see Google’s deep learning program, AlphaGo, beat the reigning world Go champion.”

  It took time to transfer the amount of data stored in the computers in Cheng’s facility. It would take as long to destroy every hard drive to ensure the man had no data on the GhostWalker program given to him by the treasonous Senator Violet Smythe. Zara kept her voice even and calm so that later, when Cheng and Zhu compared it with other speeches she’d given, there would be no difference. Inflections would be the same. She wasn’t under undue stress. She couldn’t possibly be the reason they lost the data on every computer. She was incredibly thankful for her mind’s ability to work on solving number problems. In doing so, it had lessened the effects of the drug enough for her to control the systems in her body.

  “But there’s one thing we have yet to see… What about a program that could learn to intentionally lose when playing a little boy, so that boy could experience winning? What about a program that could learn how to propose ‘win-win’ solutions for itself and someone else? What about a program that knows that ‘you can’t always get what you want’ and learns how to ‘get what you need’ by making good tradeoffs given limited, competing resources—time, money, people, materials, etc.?”

  The idea had been talked about for years. For trade, such a program would be invaluable. It was expected that there would be a breakthrough sooner or later, but to be able to stand in front of them and announce it had been accomplished was exciting. Every. Single. Time. She had to be careful to never lose sight of why she was really there. She needed the information in those computers. She’d done this so many times, but she’d never had to destroy the hard drives. Most businesses or universities had no idea she’d taken anything out with her when she went because she only gathered information; she never left evidence that their computers had been touched. Destroying the hard drives of every computer in the building would definitely raise alarms.