by Vic Grout
Stephen himself emerged from the darkness and opened the car door for them. He and Bob shook hands warmly and Bob introduced the rest of The Desk – completely unnecessarily, of course. Stephen had regained a good part of his composure but was still clearly drawn by recent events. He introduced four others in his team, one of whom Bob recognised from his previous visit to Luxembourg.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a job to do.” He ushered them through the glass doors and towards a free-standing central column with only an elevator entrance. Looking up through the gloom, it was several storeys before it appeared to regain contact with any of the building around it.
“Do we know what that job is?” enquired Andy, dryly.
Stephen either did not hear or chose not to answer. He pressed a single button marked with a small white circle. The doors closed and the lift moved but they were uncertain whether it was up or down.
*
If Bob or Jenny thought that anything they had previously seen in their technical careers would prepare them for the sight that greeted them on emerging from the lift, they were mistaken. The Desk and Stephen’s team stepped directly out into a huge amphitheatre-like room; a rough semi-circle about seventy-five yards across and the equivalent of three or four floors from top to bottom. On the outside of the circle, three rows of seats looked down onto an arrangement of concentric desks, workstations and control panels – over two hundred in total – each apparently with its own design and purpose. These, in turn, half enclosed a smaller, lower semi-circle, in which a dozen or so racks of networking equipment stood with bundles of fibre-optic cables both interconnecting them and leading away through channels in the floor. On the flat wall beyond – the focus of everything in the room, shone a massive display, divided into sections: a large central network map and several smaller analysis windows. Everything in the room, from the seating to the stations to the racks, gazed across the empty space at this screen, and almost seemed to answer to it. A few dozen technicians swarmed around trying to cope with RFS, with limited success.
“Jesus!” gasped Jenny.
“Indeed!” breathed Bob.
“Beats our Cisco Lab; it’s like something out of James Bond,” she joked.
“Beats anything I’ve ever seen,” agreed Bob. “The desks and the screen are a bit like the ‘BT Wholesale’ monitoring place in Oswestry but this is something else entirely. It’s three or four times bigger for a start and I’ve no idea what half of this stuff does!”
There was time to address only some of this ignorance. Stephen, with his team illustrating and demonstrating as required, pointed out the main features of the facility. Essentially, this was a massive monitoring station but with a number of extra features. The map on the wall could be configured to highlight any aspect or region of what might be loosely described as ‘The European Internet’: different types of traffic, protocols, even small sub-regions, could be highlighted or zoomed into as required and various traffic characteristics – traffic throughput, load, route delay, interference, reliability, etc. – could be shown together or individually. At the moment, it surprised no-one that most of the display was coloured red: both the links and the nodes they connected.
But, they were quickly informed, this was much more than just a remote monitoring system.
“From this room,” Stephen explained, with a trace of pride, “we can observe and exert some control over most regions of the EuroNet.” (‘EuroNet’, they quickly realised, was the loose term used to describe that part of the Internet within the rough geography of Europe – complicated somewhat as this was by links to various ‘dependencies’ connected in from other parts of the world.) “Here we can see anything we want to within it and influence many aspects of it.”
“Exert some control over? Influence?” asked Bob quizzically. “What do you mean? How exactly?”
Stephen smiled. “The existence of this facility is not widely known. There might be problems if it was, of course. From here was can observe the EuroNet, but also control most of its major switching centres. This control is either duplicated from the physical location of these centres or we can override it locally if necessary. We can also reroute traffic from a number of core carriers through this centre if we need to, … well, analyse any content: for security purposes and suchlike.”
“Reroute traffic?” Bob gasped. “How on earth are you doing that? You can’t overrule BGP priorities from here, can you?”
“If necessary,” Stephen confirmed, “we have that capability. Naturally, there has been little cause for us to implement much of this power – at least the control or diversion function – in the past, (on the whole we watch but we do not touch) but these are rapidly changing times, are they not?”
“Well yes,” agreed Jenny incredulously. “But who knows about this really? Do the guys at JANET know, for example? What about the ISPs? Surely they’d be up in arms if they thought their data routes might be manipulated remotely? Their data even stolen?”
Stephen smiled. “I will probably not explain all of this: it is not necessary. But suffice to say that we have very good people in many key places. I believe you know Professor Stengel at Rutherford, for example?” He grinned more broadly at the dawning expression on Jenny’s face. “Our ‘coverage’ – if we can call it that – is far from complete but it is enough; at least, it always has been.”
“Doesn’t doing things with people’s data, which they don’t know about, violate the European ‘General Data Protection Regulation’ a wee bit?” asked Andy, eyes narrowed. “Even if it’s OK with GDPR, it’s pretty dodgy ethically, surely?”
Once again, Stephen did not answer, although the slightest of shrugs of his shoulders showed that he had at least heard this time.
*
It was late afternoon. The introduction to the facility had continued, and gradually changed into a discussion of the problem in hand. Hattie had arrived but remained unused at present. Stephen and Bob, assisted by the others to a greater or lesser extent, put different network representations onto the screen and discussed the significance of each in turn. Naturally, the room itself – the whole complex – was no more immune to PDN and its resultant RFS than the rest of the world. One of the units fused as they tried to use it: they all took additional safety precautions. There were longer delays than usual and many failures. To some extent, the facility was measuring itself! And, Bob realised with some alarm, during a rare daydreaming moment staring at Hattie, she became part of It every time they powered her up, of course!
But they could not work indefinitely: they were all tired from their early mornings. In a short break for them to take some food and drink, Aisha found herself gazing at one of the ‘smaller’ side screens – still nearly ten yards across. It presented the EuroNet as part of the larger global Internet. A map of the world showed faintly in outline behind a network graph of the main backbone. Most parts were as red as most others.
“So, is this what the Internet looks like?” she asked with an intentional air of innocence.
“Who knows what the Internet looks like?” Stephen laughed gently. “I do not think any of us really know that! We can choose to look at the biggest links – those that carry the highest traffic levels – or pick out the biggest nodes – such as the AT&T switches in The States – but we can never see all of it. There is simply too much complexity over too many levels. And our American partners keep significant detail to themselves; they say for security reasons but they are economic too, of course. However, for all these reasons, and more besides, there will never be a single picture of the Internet.”
‘Just like our brains, perhaps?’ thought Aisha, but said nothing.
“Too complicated,” agreed Bob. “The last time anyone tried that was about ten years ago and, even then, it was largely made up!”
Still Aisha stared at the screen. The core network structure remained constant but a few smaller links and nodes dropped out or appeared – or changed colour or form – as Stephen�
��s team made minor adjustments to the monitoring and control parameters. The impression was one of small undulations: local, quivering changes over an immense scale. There was almost a sense of a living form. Eventually, she asked:
“So is this … It?”
The others gazed solemnly in the same direction.
“As close as we’ll ever get to knowing It, I suppose,” muttered Andy. “Like our own brains, I might suggest?” He met Aisha’s stare with his own and they both smiled.
*
They continued to work into the evening. Eventually Bob introduced Hattie and powered her up to a mixture of bemusement and distrust from Stephen’s team.
“Will we be able to replicate the reading you took in Paris?” he asked.
“Not accurately, I think,” Stephen replied after some consideration. “We can certainly reach that point from here but we will not be able to recreate the conditions under which my colleague,” his face clouded, “undertook your S Parameter calculations. Also, we remain unsure as to how well we implemented the operation of …” he hesitated as he looked at Hattie, “… your equipment there. It may be well to make a new start?”
“Agreed,” said Bob as he began to set Hattie’s controls and prepare her connections. Other than quickly connecting a new fibre optic tap, given to him by Stephen’s team, no other modification was needed.
There was a general acceptance among all of them now that, in this facility – possibly across the larger Internet, a reading somewhere would be much like a reading anywhere since the morning’s developments. So Bob connected Hattie to the nearest adaptor and set her running. After a minute:
S = 0.735
They shared knowing looks. Andy voiced what they were all thinking. “And 0.75 is what we’d expect for the human brain?” Jenny nodded. Bob repeated the experiment twice more: once on the master console for the room and again on one of the main fibre connections between the racks.
S = 0.736
S = 0.738
They repeated the last experiment several times under different conditions. Stephen instructed his team to change what non-obtrusive network settings they could across the EuroNet in a variety of combinations. It made no difference.
S = 0.738
Eventually, they rerouted a considerable quantity of traffic from two of the core carriers and maintained the settings for two minutes, observing all the time. Still:
S = 0.738
They all nodded quietly: nothing needed to be said. However, a few hours later – towards the end of the evening, using the same network settings as before, the value changed of its own accord.
S = 0.739
They repeated all the recent experiments to see if this was consistent. It was.
S = 0.739
The final value did not remain on the screen for long, however, because Hattie blew a fuse.
*
Just before midnight, they gathered around one of the larger, clearer work-tables and considered what they knew.
“So, practically no edge at all but the S value changes as we look?” Jenny opened. “It’s slowly increasing.”
“And,” Bob observed, “we have to assume that a lot of end-user stuff on the periphery around the world has been switched off or disconnected now – like we did this morning – but that doesn’t seem to have made much difference.”
“It’s almost as it we’re starting to lose the last of our control of It,” mused Jenny. “What we do with our traffic doesn’t seem to bother It much any more: It gets by on Its own connectivity.”
“Aye, It has more of a complete feel to it?” suggested Andy.
“Yes, I think It is close to a conventional brain structure now, if that is what you mean,” suggested Aisha. “And It is learning.”
“I am still somewhat unclear what you mean by both these terms,” announced Stephen, somewhat formally. The others noticed he was now wearing an earpiece: he also placed a micro-tablet in the space in front of him. He made no attempt to conceal either. “Please explain.”
Aisha took a slow breath to help her collect her thoughts: she realised that ears other than those in the room were probably listening now. “So, our theory is that It has acquired a control function from Its complexity,” she began, in deliberately minimalist form. “Until this morning, Its internal connectivity was only across physical links and this limited Its structure to something very sparse and hierarchical: very unlike the human brain. On that basis, although It may have been obeying a natural imperative to look to exert higher levels of control, It would have been restricted in Its ability to do this.
“Now, however, It appears to have, shall we say, ‘mastered’ some of Its wireless capabilities.” She looked at Bob for approval; he simply nodded. “This has had several effects. Firstly, It has increased in Its essential level of interconnectivity: Its neural complexity is probably much closer to that of our brains now. Secondly, It now has more consistent scale-free properties across all of Its levels: again, much more like a brain.” Jenny nodded to confirm this time. “Thirdly, and finally, It appears to have,” she paused for the right word, “escaped from some of our engineering preconceptions as to how It should operate.” Her eyes appealed to Bob once more. Stephen’s eyes narrowed quizzically.
“Yes,” Bob took up the case, also glancing nervously at the micro-tablet, “now that It’s got wired and wireless capabilities and power, I think It might be finding combinations of those that allow it to make internal connections we didn’t design It for. Particularly when it comes to bypassing safety circuits, bridging gaps, that sort of thing.”
“Are you suggesting that … It is discovering new physics?” asked one of Stephen’s team incredulously.
“No, not new physics, as such,” Bob answered hastily. “But applying known physics in ways that we didn’t design the individual parts for. Maybe It’s reversing the concepts of wireless data and physical power. Perhaps It’s applying electromagnetic induction over short distances; I don’t know.”
“Our brains are similarly ‘inventive’ when they have to adapt to different situations and new inputs,” added Aisha.
“In a sense,” Bob suggested, “It’s been doing this all along. Trying to put frames onto the wrong networks in Its early days was really It working out how to use our technology. It quickly got better at that and now perhaps Its outgrown us altogether and It’s finding Its own way of doing things?”
“But we built the equipment – the transceivers for example – to perform certain tasks in certain ways,” the woman insisted.
“Yes, but a transmitter can operate across a much wider frequency range than we ask it to,” Bob pointed out. “It just depends on what’s fed into it. And then an aerial – or any sort of receiver – can capture across a wide band too. Yes, we’re very restricted in the way we use individual components but, if It’s simultaneously running hundreds of billions of these, doing lots of different things, then perhaps It’s learning to ‘transfer technology’, if you like. We do seem to have power jumping gaps, for example!” He paused. “OK, we’re not really sure, are we? But we can’t deny It’s doing something and it’s looking very much like something we didn’t build It to do!”
“Aye, and It seems to be getting better at it,” added Andy, followed by silence from everyone. Stephen appeared to be listening to his earpiece.
“We need to prove this,” he announced, suddenly and firmly.
They all nodded agreement but still no-one spoke. Eventually Stephen continued.
“At some point, we have do three things,” he announced, as if relaying third-party information. He spoke with a certainty diluted by reluctance. “We have to pass this information to those in authority in European government: people further up the administrative structures – ultimately our elected representatives; they will not be easily convinced by our theory. We also have to consider telling our American counterparts what we believe the situation to be since they control more of the Internet – more of It – so
they may need to be involved in our discussions. Their reaction is harder to predict – The NSA has a history of sympathy towards,” he hesitated, “‘odd’ explanations for natural phenomena … but they prefer to invent them for themselves,” he added wryly, as if he was deviating from a script. “Then, at some point, we will have to make an appropriate announcement to the general public. This worries me – us – most of all. Although people at large may accept the notion all too easily, there is likely to be widespread panic and alarm.” He fell silent once more in consideration – or awaiting further instructions.
“The latter questions are thankfully outside of my remit,” he restarted suddenly once more. “However, it would appear that the decision regarding the former is mine.” His tone changed to something close to belligerence. “My immediate superiors have taken a, shall we say, less-than-resolute position on this now.” He glared at the micro-tablet as he spoke. “If this explanation – our model – is to be taken to a senior level in the European security framework, then it appears I have the authority,” he checked his smartwatch, pursing his lips as he did so, “and now also the necessary contact details, to do this. I expect my reputation will keep it company on its journey,” he added bitterly. “I repeat, we need to prove this.”
“So, what can we do?” asked Jenny.
“I can have senior officers in this room tomorrow morning,” Stephen said slowly. He was clearly following two conversations simultaneously. “We will need to convince them that our model of a sentient Internet is the only credible explanation. How can we do this?”
“Depends on who we’re trying to convince! Will they be technical guys?” asked Bob. “Networkers?”
“How about mathematicians?” suggested Jenny. Another pause from Stephen. Eventually, he announced:
“Yes, at least one of them will – can – be.”
“Right, leave it with us,” said Jenny with purpose, trying to smile reassurance at Bob, who looked less than convinced. An electrical socket burst into flames behind them and was quickly smothered by a technician: they barely noticed.