The Last Iota

by Robert Kroese

  The man in the suit stood up and walked over to us. “You must be Blake Fowler,” he said, holding out his hand to me. “I’m Special Agent Deacon Walthers from the FBI. I understand you’ve had an exciting night.”

  “I’ve been through worse,” I said, shaking his hand. “I see you’ve got my coin.”

  “The last iota,” said Walthers, turning the coin over in his fingers. “It sure doesn’t look like much.”

  “I went through hell to get that thing,” I said.

  “And your government thanks you,” said Walthers, without a hint of irony. He slipped the coin in his pocket. I looked at Keane, who just shrugged. So that was that, then. We officially had no leverage. We were at Agent Walthers’s mercy.

  An ambulance had arrived, and we watched as paramedics placed Olivia’s body on a stretcher and carried it away. The plainclothes agents supervised this process while uniformed LAPD officers began to cordon off the area. The woman with the ponytail seemed to be in charge.

  “Looks like Agent McCoy has things under control here,” said Walthers. “Shall we head over to the courthouse?”

  Keane nodded, and Walthers set off in the direction of the courthouse. Keane followed him, and I didn’t seem to have much choice but to go with him.

  “Courthouse?” I asked.

  “April set up a meeting,” Keane said. “We’ve got some details to work out with the feds.”

  I nodded, wondering what if there was still any hope of us avoiding prison sentences. The fact that Walthers was still going through with the meeting despite literally having the coin in his hand was a good sign, but I’d learned not to put a whole lot of faith in the sincerity of government agents.

  We followed Walthers to a conference room on the second floor of the courthouse building. A uniformed LAPD officer stood at the door, and April was waiting inside. April jumped up from her chair to hug me and then tell me how awful I looked. She then greeted Keane with somewhat less enthusiasm.

  “Please, have a seat,” said Walthers. We sat. “Before we get started,” he continued, “I wanted to thank April Rooks for setting up this meeting, and Mr. Keane and Mr. Fowler for their assistance in retrieving the last iota coin. Those coins represent a clear and present danger to American interests, and thanks in large part to you three, that threat has been contained. As I promised April, I’m going to do everything I can to clear up your problems with the LAPD and make sure you get fair treatment from the Justice Department.”

  “That wasn’t the deal, Deacon,” April said coldly, glaring at Walthers. “No charges. For us or Gwen. I was very clear.”

  “Yes, April, you were,” said Walthers. “However, your part of the deal was to surrender the coin to the FBI by nine A.M. today.”

  “It’s only seven thirty,” April said.

  “I’m aware of the time,” Walthers said. “Unfortunately, Mr. Fowler did not give us the coin. He gave it to a woman who identified herself as Olivia Fiore. Ms. Fiore would have absconded with the coin had the FBI not interfered.”

  “That’s bullshit!” I shouted, pounding my fist on the table. “Keane told you Olivia was going to be there. He’s the reason your agents were prepared to take her down!”

  “I’m sympathetic to your point of view, Mr. Fowler,” said Walthers. “I don’t personally believe that giving the coin to Ms. Fiore was part of a deliberate effort to keep the coin out of the hands of the FBI. I’m afraid, however, that the matter is out of my hands.”

  “You have got to be shitting me,” I growled. “Do you have any idea what I went through to get that coin? Hell, do you know what those coins cost Gwen? She was in hiding in the DZ for three years because somebody suspected she might know about them. How long have you been on this case, Walthers? Since yesterday?”

  “As I said,” Walthers continued, clearly struggling to maintain his composure, “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re treated fairly. I just don’t want to mislead you regarding your situation. Some very serious crimes have been committed, and my superiors are going to expect—”

  “Is he here?” asked Keane.

  “Who?” said Walthers.

  “Don’t play dumb, Walthers. It’s been a long night. Answer the question. Is he here?”

  Walthers stared at Keane for several seconds. “If you’re talking about Mr. Canaan, his assistance on this case is not germane to—”

  “His assistance!” I roared. “Jesus Christ, he is the case! April told you what he did, right? Sold out his country, let those Islamist nuts take over Saudi Arabia. Right now his mercenaries are mowing down people in the DZ, and you’re telling me that we need to be held accountable for our crimes? Fuck you, Walthers. And fuck your so-called Justice Department, too. I get it. You hold all the cards. You’re going to screw us, and we’re going to bend over and take it. But at least have the—”

  “Fowler,” said Keane.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “You’re not helping.”

  I seethed in silence as Keane turned back to Walthers. “Agent Walthers, send Gerard Canaan in.”

  “Mr. Canaan is assisting us with this investigation,” said Walthers. “He’s here of his own volition. I can’t just—”

  “Tell him,” said Keane, “that Erasmus Keane would like to apologize to him.”

  Walthers’s brow furrowed. “You want to apologize to him.”

  “Yes,” said Keane. “Tell him or this meeting is over.”

  “I’m not sure you understand—”

  “I’m not listening,” said Keane, sticking his fingers in his ears. “Tell him or we’re done.” He started humming the tune to “Que Sera, Sera.”

  Walthers shook his head, got up from the table, and left, closing the door behind him. Keane took his fingers out of his ears and locked his hands behind his head. He leaned back and smiled.

  “What is wrong with you, Keane?” I asked. “You think you can buy us a pardon by apologizing to Gerard Canaan?”

  Keane didn’t reply. I realized after a moment that he was still humming. I wanted to punch him.

  “I’m sorry, Blake,” April said. “Deacon’s a good guy, but he’s in a tough spot. I’m sure he meant it when he said he’d do what he could for us.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “You wouldn’t even be mixed up in this disaster if it wasn’t for me. You did everything you could.”

  “It wasn’t enough,” she said. The room fell silent except for Keane’s humming. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

  A minute or so later, the door opened and Agent Walthers walked back in. Gerard Canaan was right behind him. “Mr. Keane,” said Canaan with a smile. “Agent Walthers tells me you have something to say to me.”

  “Yes, I do,” said Keane, smiling pleasantly back at Canaan. “Please, have a seat.”

  Regarding Keane with a curious expression, Gerard Canaan took a seat across from Keane.

  “I understand you’re helping the FBI with their investigation into the flaw with the iota algorithm,” said Keane. “How’s that going?”

  “Quite well, thank you,” said Canaan. “As I think you know, I recently came into possession of nine iota coins. Last night I turned over those coins to the FBI in exchange for certain assurances. You see, the federal government and I have several interests in common. We both value a stable DZ and a strong iota, and neither of us has any interest in dredging up mistakes that were made years ago in the Middle East. So it was quite straightforward for us to come to an agreement. Now what’s this about an apology, Mr. Keane? Finding yourself at a bit of a disadvantage with the feds, are you?”

  “Yes, actually,” said Keane. “It turns out that Agent Walthers can find a way to wriggle out of what would seem to be an airtight deal when it suits him. And that’s why I feel the need to apologize.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not following, Mr. Keane.”

  “No, I suppose not,” said Keane. “That’s the problem with an obsessive quest like
your hunt for the iota coins. You tend to miss the forest for the trees. I’m afraid you’ve been misled, Gerard, and it’s largely my fault.”

  “Misled how?” said Canaan, frowning.

  “You were led to believe that the iota coins had value. But they don’t. They never did.”

  “Of course not,” said Walthers. “The valuable thing is not the coins but the code they carried. And we have the code.”

  “You have a code,” said Keane. “Unfortunately, it’s the wrong code.”

  “That’s absurd,” said Walthers. “We have all the coins, and I know how to get the code from them. We even verified it with the code phrase: ‘the path up and down are one and the same.’”

  Keane sighed, tapping at his comm display. He slid the display across the table toward Walthers. “See that?” he said. “That’s a deposit of ten million iotas into my account. Time-stamped seven thirty-seven A.M. today. See that number on top? That’s the transaction key. Does it look familiar?”

  “That’s … the code,” said Walthers.

  “No, that was the code,” said Keane. “No man ever steps in the same river twice, and no one can ever use that code again. When Fowler sent me the last five digits of the code this morning, I immediately used it to generate ten million iotas, which I transferred to my account. The transaction generated a new fifty-digit code. I suspected it would, because I’m familiar with the mind that invented the algorithm.” He glanced at me, and I stared back at him.

  Walthers visibly paled. “So,” he said after some time, “the new code…”

  Keane faced Walthers again. “The new code was sent to my comm as an encrypted message, the contents of which I have uploaded to a remote server. If I don’t go to the appropriate network node and enter a password within”—he took his comm display back to check the time—“forty-four minutes, the code gets e-mailed to a hundred news outlets, with instructions on how to use it. All it takes is for one frustrated wannabe trillionaire to enter that code, and it’s game over. The iota crashes, and takes New Dollars with it. Mr. Canaan is ruined, Agent Walthers loses his job, and the entire world devolves into chaos. I’m sure we can find a way to prevent that from happening, though.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Canaan growled.

  “You’re really going to hold the entire world hostage?” Walthers asked, a stunned look on his face. April looked nearly as unsettled as Walthers did.

  Keane shrugged. “Frankly, I’d kind of like to see this play out.”

  I wanted to believe he was bluffing, but I couldn’t help thinking about Rachel Stuil, the woman who had claimed to be Keane’s sister. She would have been perfectly willing to let the world go up in flames if it amused her, and the look on Keane’s face was eerily familiar.

  “What do you want?” asked Walthers.

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to negotiate with this lunatic!” Canaan shouted. “He’s insane! He’ll probably release the code anyway!”

  “Shut up, Canaan,” said Walthers. “Keane, tell me what your demands are and I’ll run it up the chain.”

  “Damn it, Walthers!” growled Canaan. “I’ll get your boss on the phone if I have to. Hell, I’ll call the president himself. Don’t forget who I am.”

  “I know who you are, Canaan,” said Walthers, enunciating with great care. “You’re the guy who’s got a hundred billion iotas. Right now, however, I’m more concerned with the guy who can make a hundred trillion iotas out of thin air. So rather than wasting all of our time with threats, why don’t you shut the fuck up before I have you dragged out of this room in shackles?”

  Canaan’s face went purple, but he shut up.

  “Excellent,” said Keane. “Here’s what’s going to happen. For starters, Gwen, April, Fowler, and I are going to get blanket pardons for anything related to the death of Selah Fiore, Fowler’s adventures in the DZ, and any bullshit stuff you feds might cook up like securities fraud or currency manipulation. No aiding and abetting charges, no slap on the wrist, nothing. We walk out of this building scot-free.”

  “All right,” Walthers said. “It shouldn’t be a problem to—”

  “Not finished,” said Keane. “Fowler and I get to keep the ten million iotas I created. Consider it a service fee for keeping the gears of the global economy greased. And now for the good part. In case anyone here isn’t aware, Mr. Canaan has hired a mercenary army to take over the DZ. This is incredibly illegal, of course, but the various civil authorities agreed to turn a blind eye, presumably in exchange for some kind of understanding about tax revenues once the DZ is adequately pacified and civilized. Forgive my vagueness; I haven’t had time to nail down the details. Canaan has been working on this plan for some time, but he moved up the timetable when he realized some of the iota coins were hidden in the DZ. This is why he had Selah Fiore murdered, by the way. She wouldn’t go along with his plan to pacify the DZ. Right now, Green River is slowly working their way across the DZ, killing anybody who stands in their way.”

  “This is absurd!” Canaan howled. “The idea that I had anything to do with Selah’s death, to say nothing of—”

  “You really don’t want to be talking right now,” Walthers snapped, with a glare at Canaan. Canaan clenched his fists on the table but didn’t respond. Walthers turned to Keane. “Don’t tell me you’re going to try to stop the invasion,” he said. “Political considerations aside, if Green River pulls out of the DZ now, it will devolve into chaos. If you thought the DZ was bad before.…”

  Keane shook his head. “At this point, allowing Green River to finish their takeover is the least bad option. They appear to have secured close to half of the DZ at this point; Gerard knew they’d have to act quickly, before public opinion could swing against them. At the rate the Green River mercenaries are moving, I’d expect them to have the DZ mostly secured by the end of the week. We’re not going to interfere with that. It’s what happens next that I’m concerned with.”

  “Meaning what?” asked Walthers.

  “Presumably Gerard has worked out some kind of deal for a puppet government of the DZ,” said Keane. “Nominally independent, but in fact answering to him. I can’t allow that. Gerard is going to set up an anonymously funded nonprofit foundation for rebuilding the DZ. We can call it the DZ Future Fund. And before you get any ideas about using this fund to control the DZ, Gerard, let me clarify that you will have zero affiliation with the DZFF. It will be run entirely by an independent board selected by Gwen Thorson.”

  “Gwen Thorson?” asked Walthers. “Who is that?”

  “Used to work for the city-planning division,” said Keane. “She’s smart, trustworthy, and knows the ins and outs of SoCal politics. She’s also lived in the DZ for three years. It will be up to Gwen whether she wants to be on the board or just select the members and walk away, but she’s the only person qualified to set it up. The board will oversee how the foundation’s money is spent—schools, museums, libraries … whatever they want to spend the money on, as long as it benefits the people living in the DZ. Additionally, the board will have one year from its inception to set up popular elections to elect future board members. The board will be the de facto government of the DZ.”

  “Where is Ms. Thorson now?” asked Walthers.

  “Somewhere in the DZ,” said Keane. “Last we knew, one of the warlords had her. For Gerard’s sake, I hope she’s unharmed.”

  Canaan stared at Keane for a moment. “My men have her.”

  “Good,” said Keane. “Have them bring her here.”

  Walthers rubbed his chin. “About this DZ fund. How much money are we talking about, Mr. Keane?”

  Keane smiled. “Fifty billion iotas,” he said.

  Canaan’s mouth dropped open. Most of the color drained from his face, which was impressive, because he had been a shade of purple I don’t think exists in nature. I was honestly a little worried he was going to pass out.

  “Relax, Gerard,” said Keane. “I know full well your net worth is at least doub
le that. Fortunately for you, I’m a merciful master, and I have no interest in bankrupting you or causing unnecessary turmoil in the markets. I’m sure we can come up with a reasonable time frame for delivering the iotas, maybe six weeks. In exchange for his benevolence, Mr. Canaan will be indemnified against any charges related to his involvement in the Wahhabi coup, and he won’t face the death penalty for Selah’s murder. The former is a bit of a gimme, as I assume the government doesn’t particularly want to make an issue of the coup anyway.”

  “I can probably get this deal approved,” said Walthers, “but I can’t control what Mr. Canaan does. What if he doesn’t go along with it?”

  “In that case,” said Keane, “I’ll use the code to create the fifty billion iotas myself, and you can throw the book at him for Selah’s murder and anything else you want to charge him with. Makes no difference to me.”

  Walthers glanced at Canaan, who appeared to be in shock. He turned back to Keane. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Good,” said Keane, getting up from the table.

  “Wait,” I said. “What happens to the code after all this?”

  “I hold onto it as insurance,” said Keane. “If Canaan tries to meddle in the DZ or tank the iotas, or if the government decides to double-cross us, the code gets released.”

  “No,” I said.

  Keane furrowed his brow at me. “Um, Fowler?” he said. “You’re not really supposed to be negotiating against me here.”

  “Nothing personal, Keane,” I said, “but I don’t trust you with that kind of power.”

  If Keane was offended by my statement, he didn’t show it. “Well,” he said, “I’m not handing it over to the FBI.”

  “I don’t trust them, either,” I said. “Hell, I’m not sure I trust myself with that kind of power.”

  “You could reset the code again and not record it,” April suggested. “Then nobody has it.”

  Keane shook his head. “Somebody’s got to have the code. Without insurance, the plan doesn’t work.”

  I found myself chuckling as I came to a realization. There was exactly one person in the world I’d trust with that kind of power. One person who always did the right thing, no matter what it cost her. “Give the code to April,” I said.