by Paul Dueweke
* * *
One day, the AD for Special Projects, the Asp as he was known informally, called Sherwood and Jenner into his office. The office was a many-walled setting comforted by windows on two sides. The view was bucolic with grass, trees, and flowers gracing some unseen summit. Potted plants abounded within, each seeking a freedom it could sense only through glass. The decor was upbeat with oils and watercolors.
The Asp was silvered by a subtle wave ascending from his forehead. He spoke articulately, but not pedantically. His successful career had placed him in a position of extreme importance, in fact, one of higher authority in some respects, than his boss, the Director of COPE, and even her boss, the Secretary of the Electorate. He was just shy of tall and dressed classic, but comfortable. A dimple in his chin competed with formal ebony eyes.
He remained standing after seeing his guests seated, then walked to the window behind his desk where he stood with his hands behind his back. Shortly, he turned to face them. “As you can see, I’m sidestepping the chain of command, but I need this flexibility to cut through the bureaucracy when national interests dictate. I’ve been tasked by a high authority to discretely solve a problem that could affect the hard-won order of our society.” The brightness of the window behind him washed out his features, creating an almost ghost-like figure. Jenner squinted and turned her head slightly to adjust to the scene. Sherwood watched squarely, eyes wide open, allowing his pupils to adjust for him.
“I try to keep track of the efforts of my staff, especially in such critical areas as Dorsal Fin. Frankly, I’ve been more than a little dazzled by the work you two have done. I think you’re a team—and a damned impressive one. I’ve called you two here to invoke your help for the final step in the robot development—to put teeth into the program, so to speak. What we need to do now can’t be done by contractors because of its sensitive nature, and the two of you together, I believe, can make it happen.”
His left hand reached for and found, with no visual help, the cord of the blinds above him. With a smooth pull, the blinds descended silently behind him, eliminating the background glare and returning the natural contrast to his anatomy. He walked away from the window toward the two, past them, circled around behind, and then back in front of them again where he pulled another chair like theirs to a position between them and the walnut overhang of his desk. Without a word, he sat back, being careful that he not visually favor either of his guests. The darkened window panel now lay squarely behind him, and his features leapt forward in the intimacy of his new setting. Jenner changed her position, first crossing her legs at their ankles, then at their thighs. A quick glance toward Sherwood revealed a granite figure, breathing shallowly, focused.
“What I want done is not a job for wimps, nor for anyone who can’t completely forget what they’ve been doing all day when they go home. It’s a tough and extremely sensitive job, and it must completely absorb you, and you must agree up front that you’ll keep the strictest confidence about every phase of it. I feel the security surrounding this program exceeds the highest level thus far created by COPE. That’s why I need to extract this special promise from you. Also remember that your decision won’t go beyond this room if you choose not to participate. You may have some time to think about it, but if you know the answer now, I’d appreciate it.”
Jenner glanced over at Sherwood who maintained intense eye contact with the Asp. Before the Asp’s words had fallen from his lips, Sherwood responded, “Yes sir, I can handle those conditions.”
Jenner followed with an, “I can too, sir.”
“I appreciate your support,” the Asp continued. “I knew I could rely on you, and you won’t be sorry. This is a tremendous opportunity for you to grow within COPE. We remember all deeds, both good and bad—even though we may not record it in your personnel file.”
The Asp stood up and motioned them toward a small conference room adjacent to his spacious office. “Let’s continue our conversation in here where we can be more comfortable.”
This is it, Sherwood thought as he walked in front of Jenner. This is the room where he briefs his secret agents before their missions. His mind ran wild with a flood of famous spies from his past. Images of Jade Fist and The Sniffer surged within him. At last, he thought. At last.
The interior room was adequately proportioned and suitably illuminated with indirect artificial lighting. Naked walls faded into vaporous shadows. The chairs were alluringly comfortable, inviting exhaustive discussion, soliciting detail. They lowered the artificial boundaries usually installed between human hierarchies. The oval table lacked chairs at its two ends. This place is made for doing business, Sherwood thought, and measuring secrets.
The Asp closed the door behind them without fanfare. A discrete but clear flashing red light above the door reading UNSECURE changed to a steady, green SECURE and was slowly exiled to oblivion as the discussion began.
The Asp sat down next to Jenner and across from Sherwood. He seemed to be occupied by another task, relegating secrets to the back burner for a moment as he withdrew a filigreed pipe from a carved cherry pipestand containing three pipes. Six eyes watched a match erupt into flames, then watched the fire being sucked into the bowl of the pipe.
Sherwood allowed his eyes to follow that first cloud of smoke as it rose and obscured the Asp for a moment. He studied the smoke, then studied the man who’d created it. His eyes then snapped back to the pipe rack where he noticed an empty recess carved into the wood at its top. He measured that recess in an instant. It was just large enough for a lighter.
Leaning back to the squeak and crunch of leather, the Asp began. “We need to redirect the mission of our spiders. Until now, we’ve used them for reconnaissance, and they’ve performed admirably. They have generally done what any average agent could do in very covert situations. On many occasions, we’ve teamed a spider with one of our autonomous T-11 cars to carry out surveillance and minor espionage functions without arousing suspicion and alarm that a spider alone would certainly do. The spiders seem to evoke a fear among people. But, as you know, the octoped, low profile configuration is the most stable and efficient. In any event, we have limited our spiders to rather routine missions.”
Sherwood’s instinct for inscrutability suppressed his excitement. Jenner leaned forward with an audible swallow.
“Now, however,” the Asp continued, “I want to capitalize on its strengths—stealth, intimidation, and the agility of a cat burglar. I want to expand its role so it can perform missions that only our most experienced agents can perform. This means you’ll have to study every aspect of its proposed missions in preparation for the upgrade. You see, what I want our spiders to be able to do is to attack a human target and be equipped to inject a lethal dose of a nerve agent, GX-37. They must be upgraded with the required hardware and controls, and their reliability and identification accuracy must be enhanced.”
The Asp raised the pipe to his mouth with one hand while placing his other flatly on the tabletop as if to somehow monitor his protégés reactions in this new arena. Sherwood sensed the interrogation. He judged the Asp had been fired by a career in the looking-glass world where things are rarely as they seem. But Sherwood mirrored a ruthless, experienced agent—not the engineer the Asp probably expected. There was a dialogue between them as Jenner tried to conceal her discomfort at discussing the unlawful termination of human life in such analytical terms.
“As you know,” the Asp continued, “COPE is charged with protecting our republic from those who seek to destroy the great progress we’ve made toward effective and free access to the political process for all our citizens. Our robots can help us maintain the freedoms that Americans have died for over the centuries. They will become soldiers in the never ending battle against the enemies of liberty.”
… and of COPE, thought Sherwood, wondering if the Asp could decode this thought.
The Asp paus
ed, thoroughly but delicately interrogating every element of Sherwood’s face for a glimpse into this young engineer, but finding no opening. He then asked, “Any questions?”
A silence shaped itself to the room as the Asp studied his two engineers. Jenner fidgeted, and Sherwood probed the words human target that hung persistently from wisps of smoke before the partially occluded face of the Asp. Finally, the silence was broken by Jenner. “How are these … ah …”
“Enforcements,” assisted the Asp.
“Yes. How are these enforcements accomplished presently?” she asked.
“We currently perform that function with COPE field agents. But there are some serious deficiencies. First, it’s very labor intensive, and thus the costs are extreme and the reliability isn’t adequate. Secondly, human enforcers can sometimes be traced back to their sponsors if they aren’t scrupulous about their professional ethics. A robot could be so clean and so generic that it could never be traced back to its source. Robotic enforcers would solve a set of practical problems that we’ve had in recent years. And finally, after years of very expensive R&D, robots are good enough to do the job. All they need is the finishing touches of a pair of dedicated engineers.” The Asp leaned back in his chair, pipe secured between his teeth, put his hands behind his head, and added, “To my knowledge, we are closer to realizing truly autonomous enforcement robots than any other organization on earth. I believe this will be the last surge to put us over the top—and I’m entrusting it to you two.”
“How about support?” questioned Jenner.
“You’ll have the entire Dorsal Fin staff at your disposal. There are only two differences between you and them. First, you’re the boss; and second, they don’t know the whole story.”
“How about this injector?” asked Jenner. “Do we have to develop it from scratch?”
“That’s being done as we speak,” replied the Asp. “I have a contract with a little company up north to deliver a prototype in about three months. They’re at your disposal. All you have to do is integrate it and make the whole system work—flawlessly.”
Sherwood sat back in his comforting chair, his hands folded under his chin. But his mind was far from relaxed. He was analyzing the possibilities, playing the options in his mind. This was the opportunity; this was the threshold between his impotent world and a life that he had always dreamed of—his niche.
“Sir?” said Sherwood as he sat forward. “What will become of us after the project is completed?”
“You’ll be rewarded according to the success of the task. I can assure you that compensation in the form of money and opportunities within COPE will be forthcoming.”
How about teaming me with my own spider? Sherwood asked in his mind.
“Any other questions?”
“No, sir,” replied Jenner.
“Everything is quite clear,” added Sherwood.
With these simple instructions, the Jenner-Sherwood team launched into Project Dagger, one of the most covert programs at COPE. They accessed whatever resources were needed. For Jenner, this meant a team of programmers and analysts and access to the most advanced computer systems at COPE. For Sherwood, it meant classified data, advanced optical cubic integration systems, a team of electrical and mechanical engineers and technicians, and CAD-CAM packages coupled to laser and virtual reality-prototyping machines. But beyond these toys of common nerds, he was reborn. A control-system nerd transmuted into a master of history’s greatest espionage tool. This was the saga for which he had been created.