by JK Franks
Thrall went on, “Right now, the world’s leading experts point to a single, inevitable conclusion: We absolutely must cease much of what we are doing and immediately reverse the unrestrained and unsustainable use of nature for any reason. Most of us now agree that we are actually past what is called the tipping point, and it is already too late. The truth is, we have known for some time that to continue down this path, we risk not only the future we want, but even the lives we currently lead. Not to mention the world we leave for our children and their children.”
“Thrall, I’ve heard all this before. I believe your psychopathic computer, Janus, even drew the same conclusion.”
“Ah, yes, that was what you people called him, Janus or Prime. We simply called him Alpha. He did go a bit nuts, didn’t he? But that does not mean he was wrong. In fact, in a very real way, he did much of what was needed to get things started.”
“He bankrupted countries. He very nearly started the nuclear war you say you want to avoid,” Cade said, nearly exploding. He was hoping Doris got something useful in her debrief, but it seemed to be increasingly unlikely.
“We would not have allowed a nuclear exchange, that was never going to happen,” Thrall said with confidence. “Janus’s plan to depopulate the planet would have reset the minute hand on the doomsday clock to a very safe distance. Possibly hours, not just minutes.”
“So, you want to kill billons as well?”
Thrall just glared at him. “No, I am not some kind of monster. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone, but yes, I do want a better world. To do that, I am willing to let some things happen, things that could have been stopped at some point but weren’t. Humans had their time, Rearden—I am not sure if there is a future for them, or even of there should be.”
“That would include you, Thrall, or are you now as much a monster as your creations?”
The beaten man smiled wearily.
Several minutes later, Cade said, “Thrall, I know your father helped steal the original data from a lab in Israel. From there, you and Golette, now going by Goldman, founded Cryptus and began the decryption. What made you go off the rails? I mean, you had a huge technological breakthrough. Your company was doing great—the government loved you. Then you pissed somebody off, and you thought the only way out was to fake your own death?”
The man had become despondent, no longer seeming to want to challenge or even defend his actions. “I saw the truth. I saw where all this tech was heading. More of the same, and we knew once the government got a hold of it, war would follow. Not just another skirmish either, a global war.”
“So, again, you did all this to save the world.”
“Look, man, I know you think I’m crazy. I know you don’t want to believe anything I have to say. None of it matters anyway.”
Thrall went on, “I was a privileged, greedy, egotistical prick. I know that. But I am not stupid or lazy. I tried to affect change individually, and later on, as one of the most successful companies on the planet. The truth is, nothing moved the needle. No one cared about the truth because the consequences are too far in the future, it doesn’t affect them personally.”
Cade responded, “So, you were in bed with DARPA, you made your breakthrough, and now you wanted out. I bet that didn’t go over too well with the Feds.”
“Well, Captain, at first, we just started using the genetic instructions to build the creatures at Section Z. They were more lab experiments than anything. We never expected any would be viable life forms. Creating them did tease out even more of the puzzle, though. We learned a great deal during the early genetic process, and from each new evolution, we uncovered a massive amount of data carried inside the ancient DNA. I’m sure you people know it is essentially a biological storage drive.”
The man continued, “We learned enough to create some basic creatures, and once we did that, the DNA code would unlock new clues. In each genetic iteration, my team learned a bit more. So damn much data…of course, it was all gibberish. That was what got us the funding to build the AI system. “We needed a way to interpret it. Janus was an early version, but, of course, he proved a bit unstable. We evolved the AI neural code to a point that it could begin making headway on the Saraph…the Angel code. Once I knew what we had, I decided to keep the government in the dark. We fed them bullshit and an occasional technological nugget to keep them off our backs, but by that time, I had uncovered enough about the aliens that my team could begin using it.
“We would have never managed without the AI,” Thrall admitted. “Simply too much data, the language and concepts too foreign to our meager brains. Janus, it was hoped, would be the breakthrough we needed, but well, you know. The government got wind of it all and began closing in so…”
“So, you had to disappear along with all the research from Saraph,” Cade finished for him.
“Yes,” Thrall said, his voice trailing off sadly. “I staged the shipwreck in the Pacific and came to the new lab we’d been getting ready. Kalypso was ready, as was the updated Janus program. What we now refer to as Astra, it is roughly twice as fast as Janus, quantum based, and made primarily to tackle the complex problem of unlocking the ancient knowledge. Although she is a great control system for Kalypso, too.”
“So, the fucking monsters we battled, the ones that have been ravaging the Caribbean islands, they were all just incidental creations in your master plan?”
Thrall considered that. “It sounds worse when you say it like that, but in a way, yes. We needed the world’s strongest computer to handle the complex DNA decryption. The ‘monsters’ were useful in many ways. What none of us….what I failed to realize at the time…was how dangerous they would become. Of course, what kind of mad scientists would we be if we saw the worst in our creations?”
Cade asked, “So, you had the ancient DNA storage, how though? Doesn’t DNA degrade over time?”
“Yes, Rearden, you watched the dinosaur movie, too, I see. Yes, DNA does degrade, it needs living
tissue to survive. The samples we have from animals or plants that were preserved in amber ice or,
more recently, even in jade, have some viable DNA fragments, but the strands are incomplete. This would not have worked for a long-term data storage mechanism obviously.”
“So, how did the Israeli scientist recover it?” Cade asked.
“Very simple, she got it from a living specimen,” Thrall said matter-of-factly. “Oh, don’t look so shocked. No, she didn’t discover aliens living in the hole in the ice. What she discovered was a unique biosphere. Multiple plants and animals that are seen nowhere else on Earth. They existed only in these small pockets under the ice in Antarctica. They were perfectly adapted to live there—some were more advanced than others obviously. Several, they’ve never been able to classify as either plant or animal.”
Cade was beginning to understand more. “Wait, so the ancients, whoever they were, engineered a DNA storage system into multiple species? That data can then be passed down generation after generation? So, the DNA code was not to build the creatures.”
“No, the creatures were to carry and partially extract the DNA data. DNA strands have lots of extra capacity, wasted space. The less complex the creature, the more room it has for data, so our best guess is that possibly, realizing their own demise, they created multiple lifeforms that would be almost infinitely adaptable. Lifeforms that could endure whatever natural disasters that were coming. The hope was that at least a few would survive and carry inside themselves the legacy, the knowledge. These bio forms are like living libraries, full of wonder.”
Cade broke in, “So, they just wanted someone to know they existed?”
“That we don’t know,” Thrall answered. “Perhaps they were reaching out, much as we do when we send out space probes. Maybe they didn’t want everything they knew to be lost to history. Perhaps they seeded the galaxy and one day hoped their descendants might return home. Honestly, the motivation is not something we understand and probably never will.”<
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“Okay, so having said all that, why the secret underwater base? Why the vicious security, and why try and collapse the world governments with Janus?”
“Those are the right questions…finally, Captain Rearden.” Thrall sighed, then sat and leaned back heavily in the chair. “The monsters were a useful and required part of the research. We had to let them breed in order to see the actual parts of the DNA that were passed through to the next generation. Those parts would remain unchanged no matter what happened to the rest of the creatures’ DNA. They are naturally predatory and defensive, so we worked in a biological imperative to keep our compounds. Let’s be clear, we were under no illusion that governments from around the world wouldn’t be hunting us down once they found out. We’ve spent billions in restitution and payoffs just covering up some of the messes the Saraphs caused.”
He went on, “That was why the other Founders and I planned to disappear. What we know is a threat. The technology we have instantly makes us the most dangerous group on the planet. Everyone on Earth was coming after us, and we needed to act decisively. Our original plan was to start a small nuclear exchange. We would have been safe down here, but Janus…our dear Janus, showed us an even better route. Cripple a country financially, and they will be unable to fight. The U.S. did it to the Soviets in the eighties. We didn’t invent the play. We simply perfected it.”
95
Cade began to hear several faint, chiming alarms. The countdown to deployment had begun.
“Doris, what can we do?” Cade said moments later as he looked around the large room. He, Charlie, and Greg were the only ones here besides the prisoner. “Can I make Thrall turn the device off?”
“I don’t think so, Cade, he was not the one to trigger it. One of the small underwater craft launched from somewhere above you just moments before the Icarus device went active.”
“I thought it had to be on the sea floor,” Greg said.
“It is heading there now. The release was not something Astra had control over. It appears one of Thrall’s partners was responsible for it. I am sorry, I didn’t know they had a way to remotely deploy the device.” Switching to a more private comms mode she added, “Cade, can you place your SmartCom in Thrall’s palm? I believe he may have also activated a self-destruct code for the vessel.”
Cade thought about it and realized that was might be why the man had been so forthcoming. He was just buying time for his partner to set off the device and then let Kalypso take them all out in one crushing blow. Perhaps Doris could finish debriefing him mentally using the reverse ReLoad process. If there was a way of disabling the device and saving the Kalypso, that might be their only hope. He did as Doris asked with no struggle from Thrall.
“Doris, if you have control of the ship, can you isolate the remaining security and plot a course for international waters?”
“Nomad, this is Riley. We’re doing it now. Do you want to have Navy personnel standing by?”
He thought about that. If what was about to happen was tracked back to this vessel, the Navy might well start shooting first. He already knew someone on the Snowbird project, probably a high up in the Air Force, had been compromised by Thrall. Could they even trust the Navy? “No, Riley. Let’s keep this a Talon operation for now. See if you can use the Kalypso’s systems to track whoever got away and deployed the device.”
“All of us are working on that, Nomad. We’ll let you know when and if we can find them.”
He knew that, like the Schatten, the Kalypso and its fleet of monsters and runabouts had remained hidden even after they knew what they were looking for. Finding a single small device might be completely impossible. “How long until it activates?”
Greg was watching a display on a far wall. “Fifty-five minutes, Cap.”
Fifty-five minutes until whatever the Founders had been planning for years began to play out miles down below his feet. It infuriated Cade. “Doris, anything we can do to stop it? Maybe bomb it, at least warn world leaders…something?”
She answered on a private channel. “The subliminal questioning is not going well, but Thrall definitely doesn’t believe there is any way to cancel the device. They adapted Saraph technology, but they never fully understood it. He isn’t lying. As you know, there is no subterfuge possible in the reverse ReLoad process.”
Cade rubbed his upper lip with the knuckles of his clenched fist. Theoretically, the military part of the op was over. His work was done, time for the eggheads to take over, only…it was the end of the world, again, and they were all scratching their collective nut sacks.
Ummm, hey, ummm, why not… The buzzing, annoying mental sound of the analyst coming to life grated on Cade’s nerves like fingers on a chalkboard.
What, Ace?
Umm, why not, like you know, talk to Henry?
Well, fuck, Cade thought.
96
Ruslana Kilma monitored the descent of the Icarus device from her seat in the front of the Corsair. She was currently fifteen miles away and heading south, not that there would have been any danger being directly above the object. She was the finance director for the Founders, but all of them had to possess a working knowledge of the science they used. As she understood, the Icarus device acted as both the trigger and a focusing device. It interacted with Earth’s magnetic field by linking existing large geomagnetic anomalies. These were poorly understood regions of the planet that produced unusually strong but highly localized magnetic fields. They were so deep underground that the effect on the surface was minimal. Normally, these did little other than screw with compasses and GPSs.
The exotic material from Oumuamua allowed them to link up to three of the anomalies together, causing perceptible shifts and breeches in the planet’s protective ozone layer. It was pre-programmed to begin with the massive South Atlantic Anomaly—a huge expanse of the field stretching from Chile to Zimbabwe. With it, they also added the Antarctic anomaly. These would weaken Earth’s magnetic field within minutes. Ruslana wished for the relative safety of the Kalypso, but at heart, she was a gambler and loved the thrill of adventure. The money she would make just knowing what area of the planet would be next to fall would be beyond her wildest dreams. Each of the people in the group had fall back locations in case the Icarus device was deployed before they were all onboard. None were as secure or well stocked, but each was in a spot that would likely not be directly affected by the cosmic rays getting through to the surface.
As the finance director, Ruslana now had access to all the group’s reserves with which to capitalize on the coming disaster. She would make billions, but of course, all of that would need to be converted to useful commodities before the banks failed and world currencies collapsed. Still, she liked winning, it would be fun.
As she neared the surface, Ruslana established a tight beam internet connection and started numerous pre-planned trading algorithms to restart the money-making process. She thought she had cashed out a bit early, but now she could spend the next few weeks making some spectacular trades to generate a fortune that would even make old Pax jealous.
She looked at her trading balance and immediately converted several million more Bitcoin shares to euros and dollars, so she could more aggressively trade stocks and commodities. By the end of the day, she would be leveraging every nickel in the Founders’ accounts to purchase ten times those amounts in trades. It wouldn’t matter. She could afford it. She also wouldn’t worry about regulators and fraud investigations. By the time anyone might ask questions, they would have far bigger issues to worry about.
The readout stated the Icarus device activation in fifty-two minutes. Ruslana knew there would be no grand spectacle. While all of the technology was based on ancient Saraph data, the plans were clear. Locally, very little would be detectable. The Icarus device would deploy self-guided grounding cables down through the sea floor and then out in multiple directions. Within several minutes, the device would charge a unique capacitor type device, and a cascading effect wo
uld begin across Earth’s magnetic field. This would begin to negatively affect the Earth’s ozone layer wherever the device was tuned to. Initially, that was going to be Tokyo. High over the city, in an area starting at about seven miles up and extending to nearly fifty, the ozone would begin to dissipate due to interaction with increasing levels of cosmic rays penetrating through from space. Rays that the magnetic field normally would intercept or redirect harmlessly away from the planet, but not any longer. From now on, those lethal rays would be focused down on countless areas like a cosmic blow torch.
In truth, the invisible and potentially deadly UV radiation would not always kill instantly. In most cases, it would deliver a lethal dose within seconds, like being exposed to a nuclear bomb. The damage would have already been done to your bone marrow and DNA, but death could take days or even weeks. If the rays were particularly energized, such as from a solar flare, or if the ozone were totally depleted, a person might literally burst into flames. So might crops and forest, but that seemed overly dramatic and unlikely to her. The Saraph data had not given much insight into the effects of this loss of our protective umbrella, and human beings had never directly encountered it. Indeed, it would be a first for mankind. Or…more likely, a last.
Cade rushed to the lab. “Thera, Nance, where's Henry?”
“The Saraph disappeared a few moments ago. I’m sorry, Captain Rearden,” Thera answered, her voice having the same sing song rhythm as Kissa.