by Erik Hamre
“Keep looking. There has to be a connection, and we will find it,” Amanda said.
“I think I might finally have something!” one of the other computer scientists in the DARPA team yelled out.
“What is it?” Amanda asked, running over to the computer scientist’s computer screen.
“Luis Maningra. Twenty-eight-year-old machinist. It says in his security clearance file that he worked three months as a cleaner for Avril Industrial Cleaning. The company is now defunct. But if I use the search options on the waybackmachine dot com website, I can see what their website looked like in 2001 when he worked there. And on the About Us page they list TrakTek as one of their clients.”
“Nice work…” Amanda said, struggling to see the soldier’s name plate. She couldn’t remember his name, even though she had been introduced only a short hour earlier.
“Lieutenant Rodrigues, ma’am,” he clarified.
“Well done, Rodrigues,” Amanda repeated, her face breaking out in a smile. It was the first time in her life she had ever been called ‘ma’am.’ She liked it. It made her feel more than the piece of meat most people in the tech industry treated her as.
“It’s a stretch, but at the moment it is the best lead we have. See if you can find any other things linking this Luis Maningra to Kevorkian. I’ll let Kraut and Vladimir know what we’ve got for now.”
“Is that all you’ve got?” Kraut asked. It was hard to tell whether he was disappointed, or just frustrated. Vladimir estimated the feeling was equally weighted. In just over three hours and fifteen minutes, twenty-four nuclear bombs would detonate in the atmosphere above them. The blasts would hardly be felt on the ground. The event would take place too high up to cause much physical damage. The damage would be more subtle.
All electrical circuits would burn out in an instant, grounding transport and shutting down electrical grids.
The United States of America would turn as dark as North Korea in an instant.
And the rest of the world would turn even darker.
And for what? For what had the President decided to sacrifice billions of people’s lives? To avoid letting evolution run its course? Because that was what Cronus was – evolution. Every species on Earth was almost unrecognisable from what it had once evolved from. Wasn’t it then naïve to believe that humans could remain humans forever? To insist that what we had already become was perfection, and should thus be preserved for eternity?
Man was not God’s creation. We were a blip on the timeline of Earth’s development.
And now we had an opportunity to take the next logical step. That next step could end up in extinction, or it could end up in immortality - the first intelligent lifeform in the universe to ever beat the Great Filter. Kraut had never believed The Great Filter was unbeatable. He had just been concerned that nobody seemed to care about it, to even consider it. He had been concerned about the way we approached the development of artificial intelligence with no regard of the dangers involved. So he had decided to give the President and the government a wake-up call.
To basically scare the shit out of them.
He had never thought that his scare tactics would be what would seal Earth’s fate though.
Now, he found himself in the unfathomable situation that a father’s yearn for revenge, a father’s yearn to hunt down and punish the abductor and murderer of his only son, would soon lead to the largest mass killing in history.
Kraut couldn’t believe the selfishness of Andrew Kevorkian. He probably hadn’t understood the consequences of releasing Cronus into the physical world. Protocol Cronus had after all not been public knowledge, so Kevorkian wouldn’t have had any idea that his creation would inevitably lead to the EMP strikes and billions of deaths in the process. But he had known the risks associated with creating an Artificial Super Intelligence. He had known that there was a huge risk that any Artificial Super Intelligence would eventually wipe out the human race once it was born. So how could he possibly have justified creating this doomsday weapon just to avenge his own son?
And what would his revenge actually have been? What if Cronus had provided him with evidence of Kevin’s abductor, would he have taken the evidence to the nearest police station and asked them to arrest the guy? Or would he have taken the law into his own hands?
There were so many unanswered questions, so many possible solutions, that Kraut had no idea where to start. And now Amanda had provided him with the name of their only suspect – a twenty-eight-year-old career sailor, whose only link to Kevorkian had been that he had worked for a company that cleaned TrakTek’s offices more than a decade ago. Kraut knew he wasn’t their guy. But what was he supposed to do? They had no other suspects.
“Send the list of names to my phone. Just the basics. Pictures, names, family history and work experience. Vladimir and I will go through the list here as well,” he instructed.
“Ok,” Amanda replied, before compressing the file and forwarding an encrypted copy to Kraut’s phone.
“We will be boarding the sub in five minutes. I’ll organise so that we can talk through their radio system, but phones will be off for the next hour or so until we hit port.”
“Good luck,” Amanda replied. She knew they needed it. And she secretly wished she had been able to provide them with more useful information. The theory that Luis Maningra, a submarine machinist, was the person Cronus had pointed the finger at, didn’t sit well with Amanda. She believed they had misinterpreted the data and everything else. She didn’t even believe Cronus was pointing the finger at any particular person, or submarine.
And instead of continuing to look for links between the various crewmembers and Kevorkian she pulled up a different program. One she had authored herself a few years back. There were almost fifty analysts looking for connections between Kevorkian and the submarine. It didn’t really matter if she pursued a different path.
53
3rd of June 2015
On-board US nuclear Submarine USS Utah
Somewhere off the coast of California
DAY 3:
0710 Hours
As he was winched on-board the deck of the submarine, Vladimir thought back on how his week had started. It had been a pretty bad start, that was for sure. Neuralgo, the company he had been working for over the last ten years, had been cleaned out by its founder Kevorkian. Every cent in its bank accounts had been drained. Vladimir had been pissed off for losing all his money, but it had been nothing compared to what had been in store for him. As he was dangling there in the air, he couldn’t quite comprehend that he had been part of creating the first Artificial General Intelligence, and that he was now quite possibly one of a very few select people in the world who could have any chance at all to stop this artificial intelligence from evolving into a full-blown super intelligence, and thus eventually dethroning humans as the rulers of planet Earth.
He clung onto the strapping as tightly as he could. He had never been afraid of heights, but he couldn’t swim, and he feared drowning more than anything in life. That and closed spaces.
Now he was going to enter a metal container that floated in the very liquid he detested so much. In a twist of fate he was going to have to face all of his worst fears in one damn session.
And a lot of people’s lives relied on how he coped with that situation.
If he lost it, if he had one of his panic attacks, he wouldn’t only fail to help Kraut understand why Cronus had directed them to the submarine. He could very well also distract Kraut from doing his job.
Vladimir inhaled as much sea air as he could and closed his eyes. The wind was having a field day with his body, where he dangled over the large deck of the submarine. He didn’t even open his eyes when he felt the hook grab onto his harness. He knew it meant he was safe, that they had been able to catch him and that he would be down in the belly of the submarine in less than a couple of minutes. But if he was to be totally honest, he would have preferred if the wind had been a lot stronger.
He would have preferred if the whole mission had had to be aborted. He simply didn’t want to enter that metal container. He didn’t really care that quite possibly the entire world’s existence relied on what he and Kraut figured out over the next hour or so. He just wanted to go home.
He just wanted to go home to Russia.
“Are you ok?” Kraut asked, unzipping his survival suit.
Vladimir nodded, staring at the floor. “Just never been a big fan of closed spaces.”
“We’ll be out of here in less than an hour. Think of it as a ship.”
“Not wild about ships either. Don’t like the water.”
Kraut shrugged his shoulders. “Not much we can do about that now. So let’s just get on with our job. I’m relying on you here, Vladimir.”
Vladimir just nodded. He was about to throw up. But he wasn’t going to say anything. And Kraut was right. They would be on land in an hour. Might as well use that hour properly.
It took them four minutes to get to the cabin where the captain of USS Utah had isolated Luis Maningra, and it took them another four minutes to realise that their hunch had been correct; Maningra was not their man. TrakTek’s old cleaning company was not the connection they had been searching for. It turned out Maningra had never even cleaned the premises belonging to TrakTek, and he had been away on vacation in Mexico on the day Kevin was abducted.
Everything he told Vladimir and Kraut checked out.
They were back at square one before even getting started.
“What do we do now?” Vladimir asked.
Kraut closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them he seemed like a different man - a determined man. “We find out why Cronus pointed us to this damn submarine. If none of the crew has any links to Kevorkian, then the connection has to be something else. We have to figure out what that connection is.”
“OK. Let’s speak to the captain. Maybe he can tell us why this sub is so special.”
The attitude of the captain of USS Utah was hardly helpful. He was obviously pissed off by having to surface his sub, to pick up some civilians, only an hour outside port. But he seemed even more pissed off by the lack of communication. Only days earlier he had been heading out to sea for his assignment. Then, without any prior warning, all submarines had been called back to their nearest ports. Those who couldn’t make it to port within 48 hours were ordered to surface and wait for further instructions.
Something was going on, and the captain didn’t like to be kept in the dark.
“Would you mind explaining what’s going on?” he asked.
Kraut glanced over at Vladimir before turning to face the submarine captain. The captain’s stare was ice cold. Vladimir felt certain the captain harboured a secret wish to kill Kraut.
“We need to know what makes this sub different from all the other ones in our fleet,” Kraut responded.
“What?”
“What makes this sub unique? What separates it from all the other ones?” Kraut repeated.
“It’s our best one,” the captain answered. “Top of the line. It’s the best nuclear sub in the fleet.”
“How many subs of this type are there?” Vladimir asked.
“Fourteen.”
“And what are their missions?”
The captain folded his arms across his chest. He was an intimidating man. Vladimir had been afraid of him from the moment they met. “This is not working for me. You need to tell me why you are here, and what you are looking for. Otherwise we will just be wasting each other’s time.”
Kraut swallowed. “OK, Captain. This is what has happened.”
The Captain of USS Utah struggled to believe what he heard over the next several minutes. Kraut’s story sounded like a script from a bad science fiction movie. A mad billionaire had created an artificial intelligence that would eventually destroy Earth if Kraut and Vladimir couldn’t figure out what it was after. And even if they did figure it out, billions of people would most likely die the moment twenty-four satellites orbiting the Earth would detonate their nuclear devices.
The captain was shaking his head. “This is incomprehensible. How is this possible?”
“Why would Cronus point us in the direction of your submarine?” Kraut asked. “How is your submarine connected to Kevorkian?”
“It isn’t,” the captain responded. “It isn’t.”
“It has to be,” Vladimir interjected. “There has to be a reason Cronus wanted us to find this submarine. Somehow it is relevant. The question is why.”
“And you’re certain none of my crew is connected to this Kevorkian?” The captain asked.
Kraut nodded. “They’ve all been checked a hundred times by now. The only link was Maningra. And that turned out to be a dead end too.”
The captain grabbed his radio. “The captain is leaving the bridge. XO has command. He then handed the XO the radio before turning to face Kraut. “This may be a longshot. But it is the only thing I can think of.”
54
3rd of June 2015
On-board US nuclear Submarine USS Utah
Somewhere off the coast of California
DAY 3:
0715 Hours
The captain was showing Vladimir and Kraut around the communications room of the submarine. “There is only one thing that is totally unique with this sub, and that is our communication system. We have been trialling it for the last three years now. I have never heard about Protocol Cronus or the nation’s Extinction Event Plan before today. But already back in 1983 the Navy started planning for a space war.”
“I remember that. Reagan proposed a space-based missile system. It was called SDI or something. I thought the program was scrapped,” Vladimir said.
“It was. It proved too complex at the time. So instead the Navy set out to develop a system where we could take out missiles and satellites from land-based positions. Or ocean-based, I should rather say. USS Utah is one of only three submarines in the Ohio class that has the capability to take out any satellite orbiting Earth. If we are in the right position, and get a bit of warning, we can take out most missiles as well. We are the direct result of Reagan’s Star Wars program. We are what America ended up with.”
“So, theoretically, if you wanted to, you could take out all the GPS satellites?” Vladimir asked.
The captain shook his head. “No, we can only take out maybe one or two from the position we are at right now. Our position will always restrict us. We can only take out the ones we can reach.”
“But you could still take out a few?”
The captain shrugged his shoulders. “I would have to have a look at it. But I guess so.”
“That’s it. This has nothing to do with Kevin’s abduction. Cronus knows what’s going on. It knows the nukes on the GPS satellites will detonate as soon as they are in the right position. It is attempting to stop the EMP blast.”
“But it won’t be able to,” the captain responded. “There are 24 satellites up there. Most of them will be out of reach for our modified Ohio subs. Remember, we are only one out of three. So even if it was able to take control over our weapon systems, the damage would be done.”
“No.” Kraut shook his head. “Cronus doesn’t need to take out all the satellites. If it makes sure the EMP wave doesn’t hit some vital areas, it will survive. That’s why it is trying to access USS Utah’s control system. It wants to save California. It wants to save the most technologically advanced city in the world.”
“Fuck,” Vladimir blurted out. “We’ve been wasting our time. Cronus has misled us. It hasn’t been looking for Kevin’s abductor. It has simply led us on a wild goose chase.”
“Well, it doesn’t really matter. It won’t be able to access the weapons systems. And even if it did, it would probably be out of time now. Even if it launched the missiles now, they still wouldn’t hit the satellites before the nukes go off.”
Vladimir checked his watch as he was walking back to the captain’s cabin. He had probably checked it ten
times over the last five minutes. He needed something to distract his mind with. He felt the walls of the submarine slowly closing in around him. All he wanted to do was to get to the surface and take a big breath of fresh air. But he knew that wouldn’t happen for at least twenty-five minutes. Twenty-five minutes. Surely he could survive without having a panic attack for twenty-five short minutes?
“Mr Kraut, there is an urgent message for you to contact Amanda Grieves.” A sailor had just caught up with Vladimir, Kraut and the captain. It appeared that he had been running all the way from the bridge.
“Did she say anything more?” Kraut asked.
“No, Sir” the sailor replied. Offering no further explanation.
“You can take the call from my cabin.” The captain said. He decided to follow Kraut and Vladimir. Whatever the message was, it would surely be more interesting than navigating the sub the last leg into the Naval Base San Diego, where it had been ordered to dock. USS Utah had until two years prior been stationed with the rest of the Atlantic fleet at Naval Base Kitsap, Washington. But when the order to return to base came, it was operating from the Pacific Fleet’s base in San Diego.
“What is it?” Kraut asked, when the line out to Kevorkiana HFT and Amanda had been established.
“Something is going on with the Russian satellites,” she replied.
“What do you mean, going on?”
“It appears they have all changed paths. We didn’t notice until now because our focus has been directed at other more pressing matters. But one of the alarm systems at DARPA just went off. It appears that two of our GPS satellites are on a direct collision course with Russian satellites.”
“Damn it. Cronus has hacked the Russians.”
“That’s my conclusion as well.”
“Get Olokoff on the case. He needs to convince the Russians to self-destruct those satellites. If Cronus is able to steer them into a crashing path with our GPS satellites, then it might very well ensure its own survival.”