‘Sixteen thousand,’ said Karl. ‘It won’t be long now. Six more steps and the network will be obliterated. You’ll have to be gone before then, because we won’t know what’s still working and what isn’t.’ The network on the screen began to behave eccentrically.
With Rob Breger and young Huib at my side I ran over to Dries van Waayen, pulled him up out of his chair and tried to take him with us.
‘What the hell is going on here?!’ Herbert Colland exploded, and now his rage was directed at me and the few remaining Bregers. Far down the corridor I heard the others step into the elevator and leave. I was standing there alone.
‘Mr. Van Waayen is expected in Amsterdam,’ I said, ‘in connection with the case of murder in the office there.’ Van Waayen cowered beside me.
‘I’ll decide who is being expected and where,’ answered Colland. ‘And I don’t think you realize exactly what that means.’
61 A camper doesn’t need a pass
No one moved. Colland had reappropriated his authority. He may have had little to contribute to the Breger’s family matters, but this was different. This was his domain, his company. He came around the table and walked up to me. He walked gracefully, almost effortlessly, adding power to his words with small, stylized gestures. But once he got closer I saw that his eyes were cursing.
‘The only one who’s wanted for murder in Amsterdam is you,’ he said. His mouth twisted up crookedly into a disturbed sort of smile.
‘There’s a difference,’ I said, ‘between the ones who did it and the one who is wanted for it.’
‘We make that difference,’ said Colland. The man’s arrogance was devastating in its simplicity. Supported by the most successful consultancy in the world, Colland no longer needed to explain things to people who didn’t agree with him. His success was the only proof he needed. His power did the rest. ‘We protect things of value. Companies, organizations that otherwise might not make it. Interests that are in danger of being forgotten.’
‘Like modern knights,’ I said.
Colland nodded, satisfied. ‘You might call us that, yes.’
‘Then this must be the round table?’
‘One of many,’ said Colland.
‘For a new crusade,’ I said.
‘Against the threat to our values. And that is something you should take to heart. We have a special responsibility in this world. You take it far too lightly.’
‘Why?’ I asked.
Herbert Colland looked at me as if I were some kind of obsolete implement. ‘Why?’ he repeated. ‘Because the world is too complex to be handed over to the good care of elected nitwits with an average IQ of somewhere between eighty and a hundred and twenty,’ he said. ‘It’s all quite charming, you understand, but they don’t see the big picture. Everywhere our values are being frittered away in spineless negotiations. Politicians keep thinking about the next election and they’re only willing to take action when they have hard, indisputable information, when they can prove that things have gotten out of control, when it’s actually too late. Otherwise they do nothing. And it can’t go on like that. They’re just plugging holes. The time for waiting is over. Finished! The governments of Western Europe must seek confrontation based on the firm belief that they have no other choice. The Christian faith has already made that choice. What’s missing are the right facts.’
‘And Mr. Miller’s job is to supply them with those facts?’
‘Everyone gets the facts they need,’ said Colland. ‘That’s what it’s all about. That is crucial. Actually I don’t even have to keep you here. You want to leave with Mr. Van Waayen? Go right ahead. Before you’re back in Amsterdam I think everyone will know the facts about this meeting.’
‘Oh, yes?’ I asked.
‘Yes, because we are the new elite, the new intelligentsia. We combine insight and knowledge, and we have the power to influence choices. Some half-baked conservative might think that public transport should be privatized, but we make the analyses. We generate the arguments and supply the facts that determine feasibility. If we don’t want something, it can always be corroborated by facts. By our facts. And our facts are always better than anyone else’s. We control the facts, Mr. Bellicher, and no one can escape them.’
On the screen I could see how the network was slowly falling apart. Now there were so many downed computers that the program was beginning to falter. Little blinking lights indicated that something was not right.
‘Two hundred sixty thousand,’ came the voice of Karl. ‘Can you see it, too?’
‘You bet,’ I answered.
‘You bet what?’ asked Colland, still standing with his back to the screen. Everyone was looking at me. Only Van Waayen and I were looking the other way. Van Waayen said nothing.
‘First look, then think,’ I said, and pointed to the screen. At that moment a shrill beep sounded, an alarm. A red window with a warning text lit up. Everyone turned around and looked at the screen. Large sections of the network were breaking down before their very eyes. With frantic signals and shrill squeals, Mr. Miller was trying to rally. Speechless, Colland stared at the fight between software and hardware. Two hundred sixty thousand computers had each found two other computers and had now begun to immobilize themselves. Then the next five hundred thousand computers began searching for two new ones in order to pass the virus on. Every step was twice as big as the last. Every subsequent step therefore took a little longer, but you could still count on it happening. Mr. Miller’s very existence was based on the idea of computers constantly seeking contact with each other. To pass on the destructive file, all they had to do was to replicate the operation that kept Mr. Miller going.
As the virus continued along its path, the network recovered from the last blow. With a quarter of a million computers fewer it was still fully operational. It redistributed its capacity and came to rest once more, somewhat smaller than it had been, but stable. The signals regained strength as the minutes passed. Colland laughed.
‘I don’t know what just happened,’ he said, ‘but it’s not very interesting. Mr. Miller is the first intelligent, self-directing network ever created. It searches for the solution to every problem it encounters, and the calculating capacity of the network is so vast that no problem can defeat it.’
‘Of course,’ I said. I turned to Van Waayen and pulled him with me. Huib squeezed past me and pushed Colland aside, thereby creating an opening by which we could reach the door. Colland reacted with fury.
‘I don’t think so!’ he screamed. He shouted for the security service, but no one came. Stamping his feet with rage, he picked up his cell phone and called a number. Even before his call was answered, a cry of dismay went up in the room. The virus had completed the next step, and it was as if the screen had been hit by a dark wave. Connections went down everywhere. Alarms went off again, but this time they didn’t stop. Colland shrieked. With flailing arms he threw himself on us, throwing punches with the force of someone who no longer knows what he’s doing. The three of us struck back until Rob Breger grabbed him and flung him across the big wooden table in an enormous sweep. With nothing to stop him he sailed over the gleaming polished surface. Cups and glasses went crashing. When he reached the other side of the table he slid over the edge and landed in the lap of one of the partners. The chair tipped backward and both of them fell to the floor with a crash.
‘Soon Mr. Miller will be no more,’ I said to the assembled partners. ‘Maybe it’s time to think about your own interests.’
That’s all they needed to hear. Everyone began screaming, and in all the commotion we raced out of the conference room. With Van Waayen, in search of Gijs.
The passage to the residential part of the building was one floor lower. There, too, movement was controlled by sliding glass doors that could only be opened by means of a pass. We shot through. Van Waayen was moaning and groaning, but he made no attempt to escape.
‘What do you want with me?’ he shouted.
‘I want
you to testify on my behalf,’ I said.
‘And why should I do that?’
‘Because if you don’t you’ll be going to South Africa with your little friend Huib. It’s up to you.’
Van Waayen stared at me.
‘This is kidnapping,’ he said.
‘Not if you decide to come on your own,’ I said, and we dragged him further.
‘One million,’ said Karl in my ear bud.
On the fifth floor we raced down the corridor until we got to room 506. I tried the door handle, but it just moved loosely up and down. The door remained locked. Below the handle was a combination lock. I cursed.
‘Vince!’ I shouted into the little microphone on my cell. ‘Combination lock, room 506. Can you find the code in the system?’
‘Forget it,’ said Vince. ‘The whole network is down. No one can get in anywhere.’
I turned around abruptly.
‘Okay,’ I said to Van Waayen, ‘then you give it to me.’
‘I’m not saying anything,’ said Van Waayen, demonstratively clamping his jaw shut.
‘If you’re going to testify on my behalf, you’re going to have to say all sorts of things that you don’t want to say. So think of this as practice.’
Van Waayen said nothing.
‘WHY NOT?’ I screamed. ‘What in God’s name do you have to gain by keeping your mouth shut now?’
Still he refused to respond. He looked at me with big, glassy eyes.
‘I have nothing to do with those murders,’ he finally said.
‘Oh. Great! Terrific! Dries, if you’re so sure about that, then what are you complaining about? I’m also sure that I have nothing to do with those murders, but I have to prove it because all of you destroyed my credibility. Give me a break!’
He didn’t answer but stepped forward and quickly keyed in a number, and in a few seconds the door sprang open.
Gijs was lying in bed, wearing some kind of sweatsuit. He was anesthetized, or at least so full of pills that he barely knew where he was or what he was doing. His own clothing was hanging in a closet, but the prospect of getting him dressed seemed hopeless. I quickly began looking for the most important things—wallet, keys—and put them in my pockets. Huib and I picked Gijs up and tried to carry him between us. It was hard going. His long body refused to cooperate. His muscles were so limp that every time we took a step we were never sure we’d be able to continue. After two steps we stopped. It wasn’t working.
I tried feverishly to figure out how to get away. As long as the Bregers were keeping the security men occupied in the entrance hall we could more or less do what we wanted. But that wouldn’t last forever. As soon as Colland regained control of security, things would get very difficult very fast. We didn’t have that much time. I cursed.
‘Allow me,’ said Rob. He let go of Van Waayen, dropped to his knees, lifted Gijs across his back and stood up. ‘Ready,’ he said.
Huib and I pushed Van Waayen down the corridor to the elevator. Rob followed with big, heavy strides.
We got out on the second floor and hurried to the gates separating the residential part from the office building proper. From there it was still two floors down and then a long straight line to the exit.
‘Michael?’ Bernie’s voice came through my ear bud. ‘You can’t get out the front door any more. Employees wanting to leave the building are trying to clear a path through the Bregers. You’ll never get through.’
We stopped in the middle of the corridor. While I told the others what was going on, I tried to come up with an alternative.
‘Through the parking garage?’ suggested Huib.
I shook my head. This building had no parking garage. The space around it was so big that everyone just parked their car outside. I cursed again. ‘The rats are abandoning ship and we’re up here somewhere on the second deck. It’s like the goddamned Titanic.’
‘There’s still a VIP entrance,’ Van Waayen said suddenly. ‘At the back of the building, next to the house printing office. We can’t get out through the service entrances because they work with a different system. But the VIP entrance works with the ordinary passes.’
I looked at him. ‘A VIP entrance?’ I said. I didn’t believe it. The back of the building was not the place to receive a VIP.
‘For people who don’t want to be seen,’ said Van Waayen. He was becoming impatient and he began pulling Huib and me after him.
‘Why are you in such a rush all of a sudden?’ I asked. ‘Because a couple of employees want to get out of the building?’
‘Think about it,’ he snarled. ‘They aren’t employees. The employees don’t know anything about this. They’re the partners. That’s the cream of the company that wants out, and I don’t want to be the only one left behind!’ He dragged Huib along with him, and soon we were racing through the corridors to the back of the building. While I was running I gave Bernie instructions on how to get to the service entrance. He could gain access to the grounds by using the pass I had given him.
‘And Bernie,’ I said, ‘tell the Bregers to clear the entrance hall. Everyone has to be able to get out of the building. As fast as possible.’ If the company leadership wanted to leave, we shouldn’t keep them a second longer. I didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity to change his mind.
Through the ear telephone I heard Bernie talking to one of the Bregers. Car doors slammed, and a second later all I could hear was the deep sound of the diesel engine.
There seemed to be no end to the corridor running to the back of the building. Rob Breger trudged on under the half-conscious body of Gijs and fell further and further behind. Van Waayen pointed ahead to where the corridor made a turn to the left.
‘Almost there,’ he said.
‘Mike?’ This time it was Kirsten’s voice coming through the ear bud. Agitated. ‘We’re here at the boom barrier and the pass doesn’t work.’
‘That’s impossible!’ I shouted. ‘That thing has to work! Try it again.’
‘Nothing happens,’ said Kirsten.
‘Then Vince will know what to do. Ask Vince.’
But Vince wasn’t there. He had gone with the Bregers to make sure everyone got out of the entrance hall quickly and back into the buses.
‘Aw, fuck it,’ I heard Bernie say in the background. Kirsten screamed, and her scream drowned out the other sounds of cracking, splintering wood. Soon Kirsten was back on the line.
‘Okay,’ she said, ‘we’re through. Now what?’
We dashed around the corner. At the end of the corridor was an ordinary glass office door in a metal frame. Door handle and an electronic lock. Hanging on the wall was a small cabinet with a little red light. Van Waayen got there first. He held his pass up to the scanner, a short beeping signal sounded and the door sprang open. Huib went out first and Van Waayen next, followed by me. Both of us held on to him. I didn’t want him to make a last-minute run for it.
We waited outside for Rob, who had just rounded the turn in the corridor with Gijs over his shoulders. Suddenly two other men appeared behind him, Colland and his chauffeur. I shouted to Rob. Too late. The chauffeur pushed him aside and Rob lost his balance. He was unable to prevent Gijs from sliding down. Rob stayed upright, put Gijs on the floor and ran after the two men. He grabbed the chauffeur, and with a rapid, violent movement he slammed the man against the wall and pinned him there—his left arm across his throat, knee high up in his groin, his right fist ready to put out the man’s lights.
‘ROB!’ I shouted. ‘DON’T DO IT! Leave him alone. Let him go.’
‘No, no,’ Van Waayen hissed beside me. ‘Don’t let him go! This is your chance. This guy is a maniac!’
I shook my head. ‘There’s nothing else to be gained here,’ I said.
Van Waayen groaned. ‘Jesus, what a wuss,’ he said. ‘Then I’ll do it myself.’
He walked back into the corridor and screamed at Colland, hurling every kind of abuse he could think of at him. Colland was now alone, and he sh
outed back. There wasn’t much else he could do. Rob was behind him, holding the chauffeur in an iron grip. Van Waayen was in front of him, and Huib and I were behind Van Waayen. Sweat was dripping off his face. The confined space was filled with the smell of his fear. The two men stood nose to nose, screaming at each other with increasing violence and intensity, until Van Waayen took aim and kicked with unbridled ferocity, burying one of his highly polished, russet loafers deep in Colland’s crotch.
In an instant the man fell silent.
He buckled over and reached for his balls, which were now probably somewhere in his abdominal cavity. He must have felt the pain all the way up to his ears.
The camper pulled up behind us and stopped. There was a deep, horizontal dent running straight across the front, just above the bumper. Wood splinters were sticking out from underneath the windshield wipers. Kirsten threw the side door open and Huib got in first, pulling Van Waayen in after him. I shot past Colland, who was still doubled over, and helped Gijs make his way down the corridor and out the door. Rob was last. He let go of the chauffeur, took three or four steps backward without losing sight of the man, turned around and ran the last stretch to the car.
Bernie was hanging over the steering wheel. The heavy camper bounced around the building and back to the exit, tires squealing. There was a line of traffic backed up in front of the boom barrier because the fleeing cars could only go through one by one. Bernie drove around the cars and stepped on the gas, heading for the entrance on the other side.
‘Forget that shit about the passes,’ he said. ‘A camper doesn’t need a pass.’ He drove through the broken barrier and left the grounds.
Vince was waiting at the door of the first bus. All the Bregers had gotten in. They were waiting for the last two. Rob got out of the camper and we shook hands on the street. For the first time.
‘We haven’t even been introduced,’ I said.
‘That’s not the way I see it,’ he answered. He laughed. ‘All the same, very nice to meet you.’ He leaned past me and stuck his head back in the camper. ‘Huib, you coming?’
Mr. Miller Page 33