MindWar (Nick Hall Book 3)

by Douglas E. Richards

  “Of course,” replied his right-hand man. “Once you and Nazry have struck a deal, just let me know where he thinks the subjects will be coming from. That way we can set up shop within a reasonable range.”

  Victor nodded. “I will,” he said.

  He took a long draw from his cocktail while he gazed out over the ocean, continuing to admire the glowing ball that persisted in inching its way down to the horizon. Finally, he sighed and turned back toward his friend. “To be honest with you, Eduardo, I sometimes have to wonder why I’m even pursuing this.”

  “You mean mind reading?”

  “Yes. I’ve done considerable thinking about it, and I’m convinced it would be a curse.”

  “A curse for the mind reader?” said Alvarez. “Or the people he’s reading?”

  “For both, but I’m talking about the mind reader now. Be honest with me, my friend, if you knew I could read your every thought, search your every memory, how comfortable would you be around me?”

  “Not comfortable at all,” admitted Alvarez. “You know how loyal I am, Victor. You know how much I value our friendship, how much I respect you. But there are parts of my personality I keep hidden away for good reason. Parts I wish were hidden, even from me.” Alvarez arched an eyebrow. “How comfortable would you be if I could read your mind?”

  “I would never stand for it,” said Victor. “I love you like a brother, but even brothers think terrible thoughts about each other on occasion. As do husbands and wives, and parents and children. And if I could read minds, I wouldn’t want to read yours. Or Lucas’s. Or anyone I’m close to. I don’t really want to know every thought people I care about have ever had about me. I’d rather wrap myself in self-serving fantasy, protect myself in a cocoon of self-deception.”

  Alvarez nodded, but didn’t respond.

  “When you’re with a hooker,” continued Victor, “she pretends to like you, to enjoy screwing you—even blowing you—as though you were her entire universe.”

  “At least the good ones do,” said Eduardo with a smile.

  Victor laughed. “If you think about it,” he said, “you know she must be doing this for every customer. That she’s just pretending. You aren’t special, she’s just doing her job, and hoping for a bigger tip. But even so, it’s more fun to pretend along with her, to believe the fantasy she’s projecting, to willfully ignore what you know is true.”

  “You are right, of course,” said Alvarez. “Self-deception can be a beautiful thing.”

  “We all want to believe everyone likes and respects us as much as we think we deserve. Every boss wants to believe his underlings admire him and sincerely think his every joke is funny. But we all have an inflated view of ourselves. And we all have ugly thoughts at times.”

  “Human beings are a complicated mess,” said Alvarez sagely.

  “A very complicated mess,” agreed Victor. “If I had ESP,” he continued, “I would instantly become a pariah. An unstoppably powerful pariah, but a pariah nonetheless. No one who knew I could read minds could ever be comfortable around me, even those I’m closest to. They would flee, and I couldn’t blame them. They wouldn’t want me to know their darkest secrets, thoughts they’ve had that others might find disturbing. And they wouldn’t want me to know of the times when I said something they thought was stupid and pathetic, but they told me it was brilliant. We all have malicious thoughts, disloyal thoughts, and we all tell white lies to spare the feelings of those we care about.”

  “This is all very true,” said Alvarez. The corners of his mouth turned up into just the hint of a smile. “But at the moment,” he added in amusement, “all I can think about are the hookers you just brought up. You don’t happen to have any on this island, do you?”

  Victor laughed once again. No one had ever accused him of being jolly, but Alvarez knew his sense of humor well and could lighten his mood better than anyone he had ever met.

  The technology dealer fell silent for several long seconds, lost in thought, taking in his magnificent surroundings. “You know, my friend,” he said finally, “I’ve recently studied research on what makes people happy.”

  Alvarez rolled his eyes. “Of course you have.”

  Victor almost laughed for a third time, which might have set a personal record. His friend was always teasing him for showing off when he pulled out an obscure quote or cited research in an obscure field, which he often did.

  His interests were eclectic, but not entirely random. He just found a wide range of subjects fascinating, and lived in an age in which he could indulge his every curiosity. The Internet provided all of humanity’s knowledge at his fingertips. And now that he had implants installed, knowledge acquisition was instant, and retention was absolute. It would be a crime not to range far and wide in pursuit of whatever subjects struck his fancy.

  “I brought up happiness for a reason,” said Victor.

  “Sure,” said Alvarez with a grin. “Hookers and happiness just naturally go together.”

  “As hard as it is to believe,” said Victor wryly, “that’s not why. I think you need to get out more, Eduardo,” he added. “Any idea what ingredient—you know, other than sex—is the most important in achieving true happiness?”

  “I have a feeling it’s not money,” said Alvarez. “That would be too obvious.”

  “You’re right. Money helps, up to a point, but one of the real keys is to avoid boredom, to challenge oneself. People are most content when they’re growing. When they’re accomplishing goals, working hard to achieve something difficult and then achieving it.”

  Victor paused. “But most important of all is a person’s social network. The quality of relationships. Friends, relatives, co-workers, and so on. Emotional connections. I have these, especially when it comes to you and Lucas, but to many other of the men and women who work for me as well. ESP would ruin this. Only a psychopath who has no need for any social relationships would covet a power like this.” He raised his eyebrows. “And I’m only a sociopath.”

  “What’s the difference?” asked Eduardo.

  Victor knew his friend could use his own implants to call this up from the Internet, but part of being social was engaging in conversations and getting a friend’s take on things, so he was glad he hadn’t.

  “It’s true that psychopaths and sociopaths seem identical,” he replied. “And all but the top people in the field use the terms interchangeably. But there are differences. Psychopaths are born. Sociopaths, on the other hand, are made.”

  “I’m not sure I understand the distinction.”

  “Psychopaths actually have telltale differences in the structure of their brains. They are destined to be psychopaths, even if raised by loving parents in a nurturing environment. Sociopaths, on the other hand, are forged in society’s cauldron. They are created, a consequence of a poisoned environment, a cruel upbringing, exposure to ruthless people, that sort of thing. The difference is that a sociopath can forge connections, care about select others, show loyalty to people around him. But a psychopath cares only about himself. He could kill his child or his closest friend if it suited his needs, without any hesitation or remorse. ”

  “Then as your close friend, let me be the first to say I’m glad you’re only a sociopath.”

  Victor smiled. “Don’t worry, Eduardo. Even if I were a psychopath, you’d be the last person I’d kill. You’re too valuable. And I like your sense of humor too much.”

  “Good to know,” said Alvarez dryly. He paused in thought. “I had no idea you had pondered life as a mind reader so carefully. You’ve painted quite a picture about it being a curse. So why are you pursuing it?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe because it’s such a challenge, and I can’t resist that. And it’s obviously of enormous value. Maybe more as a weapon than a superpower. Give it as a gift to a group of people you don’t like, who haven’t thought through what will happen, and watch them tear each other apart. Also, if I do discover the secret, maybe I can find a way to blo
ck it, give those I care about a shield.”

  “But you won’t use it for yourself, is that what you’re saying?”

  Victor nodded. “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “I can’t help but be relieved,” said Alvarez. “Not that I’ve ever had a bad thought about you.”

  Victor smiled. “Why do I have the feeling that if I could read your mind right now, you’d be praying for death, just so you wouldn’t have to engage in any more conversation about this.”

  “Not true at all,” said Alvarez. He lifted his margarita. “In fact, let me propose a toast. To the wisdom of staying out of each other’s minds.”

  Victor raised his glass and tapped it against his friend’s, resulting in the sharp clinking sound he was after. “I’ll drink to that,” he said.

  Once they had both swallowed another mouthful of the beverage and lowered their glasses, he added, “But enough about this. Right now it’s a hypothetical discussion, anyway. No use giving it another thought until we find the secret. If we find the secret.”

  Alvarez nodded. “Agreed,” he said. After a few seconds of silence he changed the subject. “So any further word from our Chinese friend, Li?”

  “Nothing since what I communicated to you last. He’s agreed to my proposal, as I knew he would, and I’m meeting him in Hong Kong in two days to hand-deliver his twenty sets of implants.”

  “How long do you expect his meteoric rise to take?”

  “He is a steady, cautious man. One of the reasons I like him. Even with the considerable advantages he’ll get from the implants, he won’t move until he has all of his ducks in a row, and has checked the row twice with a straight edge. I’d say eighteen months before he takes out Sun Qishan and replaces him on the Politburo. Three or four years before he assumes the top post in China.”

  Victor shrugged. “But I’m a patient man. I’m just planting seeds that will pay off for us down the road.”

  The sun finally dipped below the horizon and light continued to drain from the sky. August was winter in this part of the world, and while the temperature was still mild, darkness arrived each night not long after six.

  Victor checked the time in his mind’s eye, carefully slid back from the cliff, and rose to his feet. “Our last experimental subject came to the end of his usefulness this morning. I was having Lucas torture and kill the man when we came out here,” he explained to his friend. “I told him to finish up, scrub himself clean, and meet me in the building I’m using as an office at six o’clock sharp.”

  “And the agenda?”

  “I’m giving him his next assignment,” replied Victor. “Along with some news he won’t like. I want you to join us, Eduardo. We can all have dinner afterward. I think you’ll like the meal that I’m having prepared.”

  Alvarez rose from the edge of the cliff and joined his boss. “Are you sure I won’t be a third wheel?”

  “Positive. And I think you’ll find this very interesting.”

  “Okay then,” said Alvarez. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  26

  Lucas had yet to see his father’s trusted lieutenant, having been otherwise preoccupied when he had landed, and greeted him warmly with a handshake that melted into a quick hug. “Uncle Eduardo,” he said happily. “Welcome to the world’s ugliest island.”

  “Great to see you, Lucas,” replied Alvarez. “Not to burst your bubble,” he added, “but compared to some of the islands your father uses for operations, this one is like a Hawaiian paradise.”

  “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Afraid not,” said Alvarez.

  “But look on the bright side,” said Victor. “No matter how rocky and desolate the island, it still has a perfect view of the sea. Even if you’re on an oceangoing trash barge, you’ve got that going for you.”

  “You truly are a glass-half-full kind of father,” said Lucas with a smile. He turned to the man he had called his uncle from a very young age. “We’re leaving in the morning. I only wish we had more overlap with you.”

  “Sure you do,” said Alvarez, rolling his eyes. “I’d believe you if we were in Paris or New York. As it is, I’m pretty sure you’re desperate to get off this floating boulder.”

  “You have no idea,” said Lucas. “Dad had me working in a building with no Wi-Fi signal, so our subjects didn’t discover the Web surfing capabilities of the implants we gave them. It’s been pure torture.”

  “Weren’t you just actually torturing a man in there?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure who had it worse,” said Lucas dryly. “Sure, he was getting bloodied and was about to die. But I had to live without Internet access.”

  “Wow,” said Alvarez. “That may be the coldest thing I’ve ever heard. Even for gallows humor.”

  “Too soon for that joke?” said Lucas in mock innocence. “In my defense, this killing was part of Dad’s grand plan for me. Not to mention that this asshole was a violent criminal who really, truly deserved what he got.”

  Victor studied his son. Perhaps this cheerfulness was his attempt to show how well he could handle the wetwork his father had assigned, prove that he could roll with the unpleasant training he was being asked to endure. And even though he was trying just a little too hard, Victor couldn’t help but be proud of his son’s positive attitude, and the backbone he was demonstrating.

  “You’ve done well here,” Victor told him. “I could not have asked for more from you.”

  “Thank you,” said Lucas, obviously pleased by the praise.

  “You’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you here to meet with me and Eduardo.”

  “I am.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about your next assignment,” said Victor. “And your future in general.”

  Lucas nodded with great interest.

  Victor eyed a small table surrounded by chairs, furniture he made sure was placed in any structure he was using as a makeshift office, along with a desk and couch. He considered motioning the two men with him to take a seat, but he had just been sitting for some time outside and decided he’d prefer it if they all remained standing.

  “I’m the top dog in this organization, of course,” he continued, “because I built it. Eduardo is number two, because he has been by my side since the early days, proving himself invaluable, and more than earning this role. Right now, Lucas, you are number three. But this is only through right of birth. And because your brilliance and potential is undeniable. But you haven’t actually earned anything. I have no doubt you will, but I’d like to see you begin proving your value early and often. Showing me that you would be indispensable to this organization, even if we were not related.”

  “I welcome that chance,” said Lucas.

  “Good,” said Victor. “As you know, my goal is to see you eventually carry on for me and Eduardo when we’ve become ancient.”

  His son smiled. “You mean when you become even more ancient.”

  “I know you’re joking, but I wear my age as a badge of honor. Anyone in this business who isn’t tough, smart, and careful dies very young.”

  “A point you’ve impressed upon me often,” said Lucas, “and one I won’t forget. I intend to demonstrate all three of these qualities. Not only to live to a ripe old age, but to live up to your expectations.”

  “I would expect no less from a person of your talents,” said Victor, his sincerity evident. “But let me move on, to the near term. Before I give you your next assignment, you should know that I’ve come to a decision regarding your use of BrainWeb implants. It’s obvious why you want them so badly. They represent a tool of astonishing power. But I’ve thought about this at length and have decided I have to say no. I can’t allow you to have these installed, at least not for several years.”

  Lucas’s eyes burned with a sudden, fierce intensity, and all traces of joviality vanished. Victor was glad he couldn’t read his son’s mind, not that his current thoughts were much of a mystery.

  “The
exact number of years will depend on you,” continued Victor. “On how well you prove yourself. I know you’re brilliant academically. What I don’t know is if you’re savvy, street smart. I don’t know how much insight you can bring to a complex analysis, how strategic you can be. How deeply you can think, how doggedly you can focus on a problem. I need to see you demonstrate creativity. Problem solve on your feet. Think outside the box.”

  “This makes no sense!” spat Lucas, making no attempt to hide his anger. “Why make the implants contingent on me demonstrating these other qualities? The implants will help me be a better thinker. Why deny me a tool that will help me prove myself, help me make key contributions, that much faster?”

  “Because at this stage of your life, I’m not convinced implants won’t have a more negative impact than positive. They offer truly miraculous capabilities. But they are also addictive. And a crutch. They cause dependency, and allow users’ minds to become lazy. Even the standard Internet is addictive, and is known to create superficial thinkers rather than deep thinkers.”

  “I know you were joking, Lucas,” said Alvarez, entering the conversation for the first time, “but didn’t you just a few minutes ago compare the absence of Wi-Fi to actual torture and death? Think about that for a moment.”

  “Exactly,” said Victor. “If that isn’t a demonstration of what I’m saying, nothing is. In addition to addiction, the Internet causes us to behave like dogs on a busy highway,” he added, “chasing every car that goes by, rather than staying on task and really digging in. It’s too distracting, too ADD inducing. It makes it ever harder to focus on a single problem for hours and days at a time, when a broad, superficial analysis is so easy. It’s too tempting to search the Web for tangents instead of continuing to struggle with a problem at hand.”

  He paused to allow his son to digest what he had said. “And these are all issues with standard Internet usage. BrainWeb implants make these temptations, these addictions, these dependencies a hundred times worse.”