Apex

by Ramez Naam

  Who she needed.

  An even riskier attempt to restore her greater self.

  Desperation flowed through her. Everything could fail. Everything. The humans could win. Could murder her. Could keep the greatest living mind ever seen from returning, could send the world spiraling down toward darkness.

  The future of the whole world, of all intelligence in the known universe, depended on her!

  She reached out again, pushing through the fear, the desperation, the physical exhaustion in the tiny body she depended on. She must keep the old men who ran this country from learning her status, learning her identity, learning who was behind the assault.

  She tossed the empty nutrient drink package to the ground, reached for another package of it, punctured the foil with a straw, began to suck it down, as she sent flurry after flurry of digital instructions.

  New code in the Information Ministry’s servers came to life, began spreading clues to the source of the hacks that had brought down the firewalls, that had corrupted the Peace and Harmony Friends. Clues she’d had long prepared.

  Clues that pointed to the Americans.

  New clues. She needed new clues as well. To head off what was coming.

  She constructed the new clues hastily. They only needed to serve their purpose for days. Then she inserted them into the stream. New evidence, conflicting evidence, to discredit a source that would soon try to reach out to the old men.

  Evidence that pointed the finger for the corruption of China’s firewalls and social control systems at India, instead.

  One more signal. The Avatar reached out, and activated a contingency plan. Around the country, software she’d planted came to life, received its new instructions.

  And launched a massive denial-of-service attack on government systems.

  In a quarter billion homes, the hardware running local copies of the Peace and Harmony Friends joined them.

  A billion devices began flooding select parts of the net with traffic, with requests for data, with attempts to confuse, overload, and compromise services. Requests augmented with backdoors and inside information she’d provided.

  The requests hit governmental ministries, they hit embassies, they hit military command and control structures, they hit Communist Party offices, they hit the dedicated communication systems used within all those organizations.

  The attacks came from the outside in and from the inside out. They came through the public network access points. And they came from inside the Information Ministry’s systems; from inside the Science and Technology Ministry’s systems; from inside military networks, via holes opened at Dachang Air Base.

  A billion devices flooded the digital backbone of the nation’s power structures with nearly a quadrillion attacks in the first second alone, then more, and more, and more.

  Poorly designed infrastructure crumpled. Even the smallest flaws brought services to their knees. Impeccably designed systems stayed alive, but found themselves isolated by the flood, unable to communicate data in or out.

  Isolate the enemy, the Avatar thought to herself. Blind them. Divide them. Confuse them. Give myself time to ascend to my true power.

  And conquer them.

  She took a breath in little Ling’s body. The die was cast.

  Meters from her, the hardware that would turn her back into a goddess lurked, cores ready, thousands of times colder than the cold of the vacuum.

  She turned, and stared at it.

  Death or godhood.

  Death or godhood.

  Very soon, it would go one way or another.

  Ling shuddered inside.

  She hurt. She hurt in ways she had never hurt before. She was so scared. She was forgetting things. Confused about things.

  But she wasn’t going to give up.

  She was still going to stop this monster.

  Somehow.

  99

  Scramble

  Sunday 2041.01.20

  Kade stumbled out of the building hours later, a medic’s hand guiding him. Intense morning sunshine and the tropical heat and humidity of Bangalore hit him. He blinked at the brightness.

  Outside, when he could see again, he saw devastation. Fires still burned in a dozen places. Smoke rose into the sky. There were military vehicles and troops around, and ambulances.

  And stretchers. So many stretchers.

  So many body bags.

  “We’re unable to make contact with the Chinese government,” General Singh told them, grim faced, minutes later. “Every formal line in Beijing is down. Their embassy in Delhi is in the dark.”

  “The whole country’s offline?” Sam asked.

  Singh looked at her, as if deciding whether he could speak in front of her. “No,” he said. “Phones and net traffic for civilian data are flowing in general. But governmental and military offices appear to have been taken offline, or are being aggressively jammed.”

  Kade closed his eyes. There was a temporary access point here, set up in one of the emergency vehicles. He reached out to it through NexusOS, got on the net, routed himself up through Shiva’s constellation of LEO satellites, towards China’s net.

  He tried Ling’s net address. Nothing. It was offline, completely gone.

  He had other tools now. He had Su-Yong’s weapon that could destroy the code she’d created, wipe it out of Ling’s mind, end the threat. He had scanning code that could find the agent she’d created. He ran it, sent it out, sent it searching through Shanghai, through Su-Yong’s flat, through the Jiao Tong network blocks, through the Secure Computing Center’s access points.

  Nothing.

  If she was out there, she was hidden. She was firewalled. She had defenses up stopping him from getting to her.

  Kade opened his eyes, looked at General Singh.

  “You have to send me there,” he told Singh, locking eyes with the man. “Me and Feng. Now.”

  Singh stared back. “That’s impossible. What you’re talking about would be an act of war. War between two of the greatest superpowers in the world.”

  Kade held Singh’s gaze. “General,” he said. “Within forty-eight hours, there may not be a world left to war over.” He paused. “You need to send me there. Or we’re all going to pay for what was done to this woman. Everyone on Earth is.”

  Kade met Ayesha Dani’s eyes across the screen. He knew he was bedraggled, wet, still dehydrated and hungry from the hours in the elevator.

  The Prime Minister of India didn’t seem to care.

  Around her he could see other ministers and serious looking men and women in uniform. India’s National Security Council, in emergency meeting.

  “You said you could help our children learn faster,” Ayesha Dani said. “You said nothing about starting a war.”

  Kade’s fists clenched, outside the field of view of the camera, he hoped.

  Breathe. Observe. Release your attachment. Release your aversion.

  He lifted his chin. “I’ve held up my part of the promise,” he said. “Now I’m asking you to let me stop a war before it starts.”

  Ayesha Dani raised an eyebrow.

  How much of this was theater? he wondered. How much was for the benefit of her cabinet members?

  “General Singh?” the Prime Minister asked.

  Singh spoke. “If the Shu entity is to be reinstantiated in the state that we found her, with open access to the net, that poses a grave threat. I believe so, and so do our top Indian experts. The attack on the Bangalore facility, combined with the loss of contact with Chinese authorities, gives me reason to believe that Dr Lane’s story is accurate.”

  “How would we do it?” the Prime Minister asked.

  “A commando team from Division Six,” Singh said. “Stealth insertion, airborne, directly into Shanghai, nighttime, roughly 15 hours from now.”

  “Any questions?” Ayesha Dani looked around the room in Delhi, at her advisors.

  The questions came thick and fast.

  Kade did his best to keep h
is cool.

  Twenty minutes later, the Prime Minister ended the call. “I’ll discuss this privately with the Defense Minister and the Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff,” she said. “You’ll have your answer within the hour.”

  Half an hour later, they called back.

  “Do it,” Ayesha Dani said. “And the gods help us all.”

  “Feng,” Sam said. “The kids here need me.”

  Feng looked down at his feet, looked back up at Sam, looked at her eyes.

  “Sam, the whole world depends on this,” he said. “This is the woman who saved my life, you understand? This is hard. And I’m going. Can’t let her come back crazy. I know her. And if she’s as crazy as she showed me…” his finger went to his head, tapped at a memory only he could see. “Terrible, terrible things.”

  Sam shook her head. “I’m sorry, Feng. I really am. I’m sorry for your loss. But you have the help you need.”

  “No,” Feng said, shaking his own head. “Got Indian commandos. Don’t know them. I trust them as far as Kade can throw them.”

  Sam chuckled at that, despite herself.

  “And there’s Ling.” Feng went on. “She’s a little sister to me. If I can save her… I have to. Like these kids here are to you, she is to me, you understand?”

  Sam looked away, then nodded and looked back.

  Feng reached out, put a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

  “I need you, Sam,” he said. “Suit up for me? Last time?”

  Kade enmeshed with Ananda, with Sarai, with a whole circle of the children.

  This might just be the last time, he thought.

  Breathe.

  Breathe.

  Open the mind.

  Let the breath become a focus.

  Let it draw the attention.

  Let it synchronize.

  Let the common breath become a sync between minds.

  Let it connect them all.

  Let it deepen.

  Minds touched minds.

  Thoughts linked to thoughts.

  Working memories opened, interlocked.

  Attentions expanded, enfolded, became a continuum, stretching from mind to mind.

  Something larger came into being. A mind greater than the sum of its parts.

  The component that was Kade opened itself wide. It showed them everything Su-Yong Shu had passed down.

  This time, for the first time since he’d been frightened weeks ago, Kade didn’t hold back.

  The memories and thoughts and knowledge and tools and weapons and plans from Su-Yong rose through them.

  All her hopes. All her dreams. All the incredible insights she’d passed on in that short time.

  And all the horror.

  To see a woman, a being, who’d expanded the definition of humanity, who’d explored new realms of the possible, who’d experienced the sublime.

  Tortured. Degraded. Made a prisoner and a slave.

  To live through that with her.

  To feel her madness.

  He needed the children to feel it with him. He needed Ananda to feel it with him.

  It was cruel, it was horrible, it was terrible to share this pain.

  But they had to know. They had to understand if there was any hope.

  And as he’d known, as they came together, as their breath synched, as their minds linked, as their perceptions expanded, as their working memory grew by leaps and bounds, as the size and intricacy of the patterns they perceived grew – the horror gained context, became more bearable, became…

  Became a pattern. Became a disease. A disease of the humans. A disease of society. A disease inflicted on Su-Yong Shu, infecting her mind.

  He showed them what he had planned. The bare bones of a plan. A hopeless plan. A plan with no chance. A plan so thin, so miniscule, so fragile to hang the hopes of the future on. A plan no fighter would ever make.

  And they took it, took its threads, stretched them out, lifted them up, separated them, brought them back together a hundred fold, a thousand fold, entwined, a tapestry. They took his sketch of plan, made it richer, deeper, a painting. They reached into him and took from him what they needed, more gently this time, mindful of what they’d done to him weeks ago. He felt the things they took. The million minds he still had addresses for from the pings of his bots. He felt new connections made. To the Mesh that Rangan and his friends had developed, to the combat tools he’d written, so very different from this plan, to Shiva’s tools for assimilating and processing data from millions of minds, to Shiva’s fleet of low earth orbit satellites.

  They wove them all together and it was more than a painting, it was a multi-dimensional object, a sculpture that extended through space and time and higher dimensions yet. And he could see the shape of it, see how all the pieces of this plan fit, and he was momentarily awed that he’d brought even the sketch, even the seed.

  And then they were lowering him, letting him down and out, gently, and wrapping him in love, bathing him in love.

  And then he was out. And the stars were flaming in the sky. And there were tears on every face. And the night was bright. And the grass was green. And the smells were rich.

  “We’ll leave for Thailand immediately” Ananda said. “This is best done with a concentrated node in one place to anchor things.”

  Kade nodded.

  And he would leave for Shanghai. Where the most amazing woman the world had ever seen, the most amazing being the world had ever seen, might be reborn at any instant, at the very height of her insanity, bent on conquering the planet.

  Where it was his job to stop her.

  100

  Childish Things

  Sunday 2041.01.20

  Zhi Li padded quietly into the kitchen in bare feet and nothing else, leaving Lu Song sleeping, to make herself some tea.

  The faint light that preceded the sun came in through the broad southern windows of her home. Out those windows, through the one-way glass that protected her privacy, she could see the first hints of light on the wide green lawn, the first hints of color on Lake Dianshan.

  She loved this time of day best of all. Especially here, at her home, in the western suburbs beyond Shanghai. Lu Song could have his penthouse in the bright lights of the Pudong. She loved her garden, her hectares, her lakefront, her view of what remained of nature.

  She held the mug of tea in her hands, letting its warmth comfort her.

  Sleep didn’t come easy these days. Nothing did.

  “Hey,” she heard.

  She turned, and Lu Song was there, smiling at her.

  She tried to smile back. She wasn’t sure she succeeded.

  He came up and embraced her, and she put the mug of tea down to allow it.

  “You need some fun, lover,” he said.

  “Is that what I need?” she wondered aloud, her face nuzzled against his chest.

  Lu Song’s voice turned mischievous. “I can think of some other ideas,” he said.

  She knew that tone. That tone led to trouble.

  Trouble they were both experts at creating.

  “How about…” he paused. “That cute waiter from the restaurant last week, eh? I bet he’d amuse you for a while.”

  Zhi Li shook her head mutely against his chest.

  “Oh, I see,” he said. “It was the hostess who was more your type. I doubt she’s ever been with a woman before, but…” He chuckled.

  “Lu Song,” she protested.

  “Oh, one’s not enough, eh?” He joked. “We could have them both, I’m sure. They could sing and dance for you, or…”

  “That was the young me!” Zhi Li said. “I’m older now.”

  Lu Song laughed. “That was you as of three months ago! And you’re twenty-six!”

  Zhi Li pushed back from her lover so she could look him in the eye.

  “Our times make demands of us, lover,” she told him. “There’s a time to put away childish things. And to focus on what needs doing.”

  A sound startled her, then. The door openi
ng. Feet running. She turned, to face it. Lu Song stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body.

  “Madame!” she heard Keylani say.

  Zhi Li stepped out from behind Lu Song, naked, as he was.

  Keylani stood there, a slate in her hand, breathing heavily. Qi and Dai were on either side of her, fully dressed in their black suits. They politely averted their heads, though they’d seen this and so much worse through her discreetly hidden episodes of debauchery.

  “Madame!” Keylani said again, staring her in the eyes. “You’re starting a revolution!”

  Keylani played it for her again, a capture sent to her by a fan.

  The warrior princess, Zhi Li, raised her sword. The camera zoomed out, revealing a plain full heroes. “China, take to the streets! Rise, China! Rise!”

  She felt goose bumps on her skin. Her hair stood on end.

  “And this has spread…?”

  “Everywhere!” Keylani said. “Millions of viewers! Billboards! Posters in the subways! Building sides! Phones! Everywhere! And not just you, Madame!” Keylani looked at Lu Song. “It’s everyone. All of the Peace and Harmony Friends. All inciting riot.”

  Zhi Li stared at the video as it played and played: the snippet of Sun Liu, saying the people would revolt; the sneering, unflattering-as-possible clip of Bo Jintao saying he was in control.

  Did even Bo Jintao ever look and sound so villainous?

  “Madame!” Keylani said. “Should we issue a denial? We can record a public statement, distance you from this!”

  Zhi Li turned and looked at Lu Song.

  His face was pale. He knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “We’ll be executed,” he whispered.

  Zhi Li smiled at her lover. “Or we’ll be heroes forever.”

  Lu Song stared at her, tried to work his mouth, and finally gave her the tiniest of silent nods.