Chasm Waxing: A Startup, Cyber-Thriller

by B. Michaels

  She maintained her stare. “No, I’m not a Bible-thumper. Far from it. I just happen to know a lot about the Bible. My dad was a Pentecostal preacher in Texas. He fed me the Bible for breakfast. He has a vast library of Bibles, Bible dictionaries, Bible handbooks, Bible commentaries; he’s really smart about Scripture.”

  “What’s a Pentecostal?”

  “Pentecostals are non-Catholics. Think Billy Graham, not the Pope. By that, I mean they are Protestants. Pentecostals emphasize a more active role for the Holy Spirit in their faith. So to them, God still speaks, God still heals—things like that. A lot of TV preachers are Pentecostals.”

  “Hmm,” replied Josh. “What does your mom do?”

  His question threw Becca off. “My mom died of ovarian cancer when I was 10.” Then God disappeared, she thought.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Josh. “My mom and dad divorced when I was starting high school, but it’s nothing like losing your mom. I run the Jewish race—not the religion—if you know what I mean.”

  Becca didn’t catch Josh’s humor. She didn’t want to talk any more about her mom, dad, or religion. “With all the variations of text, I think you can use the Bible as a Rosetta stone to train your neural network.”

  “I believe you’re right. I think employing different translations of the Bible and the commentaries as training data for my recurrent neural network makes a lot of sense. I’d hypothesize that the text will be of higher fidelity. It should really help improve my word vectors. I’m going to start architecting and training the software tonight.

  “Once I get it trained, I can see if the neural network improves the recognition of cyber-events. Then, I can start thinking about replacing the G-Master. I’m excited about that use case. I do want to head in the area of stronger AI. I’ve been trying to expand Vish’s vision beyond cybersecurity. In time, I want to out-do the Atom search engine. I’d like to perform discovery—not search. And I’d like to make it social discovery in a VR world.”

  Josh had long believed that a significant proportion of Atom search engine traffic could be displaced by an AI that discovered things for its users. Users would no longer have to type explicit search terms. Nucleus wouldn’t like it, but maybe they’d buy his company.

  Josh didn’t view discovery and search as mutually exclusive, but he felt that if he implemented discovery in a compelling manner, the Atom search engine would not be the only game in town. He believed that discovery could be especially compelling if coupled with VR or Augmented Reality—AR.

  VR and AR were similar. The primary difference was that the VR head-mounts completely shut out the real world. VR was total immersion. AR superimposed digital content, like words or graphics, over the physical world. It wasn’t fully immersive; you could still interact with your physical environment. In the same way that the computing experience on a phone differed from a PC; VR and AR were distinct computing platforms.

  Becca re-engaged in the conversation. “Wow, that’s exciting! I want my computer to discover things for me. Then, I can quit searching. I get it. So, to summarize our meeting, we’re not in love with our current AI—it’s just an open source engine we’ve trained for cyber-events. Our entire architecture is modular; all of our intellectual property centers on G-Bridge. My co-worker, Ali, will welcome focusing on other things rather than recognizing cyber-events. You just have to talk to Samantha about how all this happens from a business perspective. That’s above my paygrade. I suppose you can work out a licensing agreement or something.”

  “Right,” said Josh, “I’ll shoot her an email later tonight and copy you on it. When I’m done, maybe we could get together? I’ll show you what I’ve got. By the way, is it happy hour yet?”

  “Hardly,” laughed Becca. “That sounds like a plan.”

  Becca’s mind wandered. “I’ve been thinking. You’re a smart guy. Maybe you know the answer. I understand how Gamification Systems, CyberAI, and the thought-based VR controller company—Prosthetic Thought—were down-selected for the Accelerator.

  “And now, I get what the General was thinking when he suggested we’re more complimentary than competitive. But why do you think Shields also funded a drone company and a wireless power company? It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

  Josh paused. “I guess I haven’t ever thought about it. I think Flashcharge will wirelessly power the drones. I’ve talked to the Swarmbot guys. Their focus is on cheap drones and robots that provide swarm intelligence—link ants or bees. But, I don’t know what the NSA needs with swarming robots. Their expertise is in signals intelligence and encryption.”

  Chapter 12 – Becca’s Story

  12:20 p.m. (EDT), Thursday, July 30, 2020 – Baltimore, MD

  National Aquarium, 501 East Pratt St.

  Becca nearly choked on her sandwich. She gasped loudly at the uncomfortable question from her father, Elisha Roberts.

  Earlier in the morning, she Ubered the 20-plus mile drive from Columbia to the National Aquarium. Becca and her dad spent the morning touring the huge complex. The Dolphin Discovery Exhibit, which housed eight Atlantic bottlenose dolphins, consumed a good portion of their morning together. She loved the dolphin’s intelligence and grace.

  The father and daughter were on the top floor of the aquarium. They’d just strolled through the Sea Cliffs Exhibit and grabbed a box lunch from the Harbor Market Counter. They sat at a table overlooking Baltimore’s historic, Inner Harbor. Watching this same harbor during the War of 1812, Francis Scott Key wrote, “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

  Elisha Roberts was in town to be a guest pastor at a Charismatic church, just outside downtown Baltimore. Other than some doctrinal beliefs related to the Holy Spirit, little separated Charismatics from Pentecostals. They were both significant constituents of Evangelicals—the group Becca felt only received their news from Fox and the Drudge Report.

  “Dad, I haven’t found a church that I like. I’ve been working almost 24/7 for Gamification,” said Becca, with a snarky tone.

  Becca was telling a half-truth. She hadn’t found a church. But, she also wasn’t looking. Becca’s heart hurt when she thought about church. There were so many fond memories. Memories of her mom and dad attending church and church activities, like picnics and campouts. Texas was a lifetime ago.

  The brow-beating question irritated her. She loved her father. But Becca maintained a slowly simmering bitterness—or maybe it was disappointment—with her dad. She was definitely angry at God, if He existed.

  Pastor’s kids didn’t just go to church on Sundays. They lived church daily. Elisha preached at two services on Sunday. After that, there was the Wednesday night service. Church members were always dropping by the house. Despite the busyness, those were the happiest days of Becca’s life.

  Then her mom died. Elisha Roberts, an up-and-coming healing preacher, could get other people healed—but not her mom. Susan Roberts was in the prime of her life, when the cancer attacked the very ovaries that gave Becca breath. Becca stopped believing in her dad and God.

  After Susan’s death, Elisha had to leave Texas. There were too many memories for him to process every day. Elisha suffered a protracted season of depression. A friend in Tennessee hired Elisha to be an associate pastor of his Memphis church.

  This was a huge demotion, but Elisha didn’t feel right about pastoring other people. He was struggling to pastor himself. Recently, when his friend retired from the ministry, Elisha was elected senior pastor.

  Her mom’s death and the subsequent move, robbed Becca of her very identity. She took up hacking as a coping mechanism to escape the pain. Hacking, and later programming, had a certainty to it. It was simple cause and effect. Do this. Don’t do that. Learning the rules was all consuming. But, at least there were rules. If something broke, Becca could fix it. And, she didn’t have to think about her mom.

  In her early years, Becca w
asn’t covering her hacking tracks very well. At the age of 14, the Memphis FBI paid a visit to Elisha. Becca got off with a warning. A motherly FBI agent took an interest in Becca. They remained close. She helped Becca land a job as a part-time hacker for the FBI. Becca moved out of her dad’s house when she was 18.

  Elisha smiled, “Alright, Alright. No more church attendance quizzes. Have you shot any wild pigs recently?”

  Becca was relieved to change the subject. “No, but I’ve found something I really enjoy. I became the chief game designer for a project we’re doing at Gamification. I love it! I got to create an entire world—monsters, castles, weapons. I hope to do more of it.”

  “That’s wonderful. Why’d you like it so much?”

  “I’m bored with hacking, programming, and security. Making a game is like nothing I’ve ever done. I love being able to author an entire world. It helps me see everything differently.”

  “Do you think that you can keep creating games for the company?”

  “I don’t know. Samantha has told me repeatedly that our goal is to integrate with games made by other firms. The game I designed is only a prototype. I understand. We’ll see.”

  “That’s great honey. It’s nice to see you happy. Are you dating anyone?”

  Becca scrunched her nose, elevating the glasses on her face. “No. There’s not much time for dating. I just met someone, but I don’t know…”

  Becca’s phone buzzed.

  It was a text from Josh. ‘This new AI is rocken! TTL.’ Becca’s eyes danced. She quickly put the phone down.

  “How are you, Dad? How was your prayer meeting last night?”

  “Awesome! We had a great time of prayer and fellowship at the Refuge Bible Church. It’s just down the street. My sermon was on Daniel 12:4. An angel told Daniel to seal his book ‘until the time of the end; many shall run to and fro and knowledge shall increase.’ Isn’t that a perfect description of our Big Data era?”

  In addition to studying the Bible; Elisha loved science, technology, and history. The latest high-tech advances always permeated his churches. Recently, he initiated a Bitcoin donation program and was excited to launch a fleet of driver-less cars. The autonomous vehicles would gather and distribute donated food. He called the food ministry, ‘Elisha’s Chariots.’ It was a play on words. Chariots only raptured Elijah, not Elisha. Elisha had to carry on the ministry, while his boss rode away to heaven in a fiery chariot driven by my ophanim.

  Ever since she could remember, Elisha told Becca that the Bible and science were in complete harmony. Becca did love the fact that her dad could talk about science—from particle physics to astronomy. However, she thought there were a lot of contradictions in the Bible. Most of all, Becca couldn’t get over the inability of the healing pastor to save his own wife.

  It made the numerous reports of Elisha’s healings seem fake. Some people get better just by taking placebos, thought Becca. Becca had witnessed his healings. They seemed real. But, he must have been curing people of psychosomatic disorders.

  “My message was that time Daniel was prophesying about, some 2500 years ago, is at hand. Now is the season of the End Times. Our remaining time is short. Daniel wrote his book from captivity in Babylon. Babylon is 50 miles from Baghdad, Iraq’s capital.

  “I talked about how many brainy men like Elon Musk, Stephen Hawking, and Bill Gates were deeply concerned about AI causing the end of time for human beings—a time in which strong AI overtakes the human race. Then it can squash us like bugs.

  “I talked about Ray Kurzweil’s notion of the singularity. You know. The idea that accelerating returns from exponential increases in all fields of technology—AI, robots, nanotechnology, and genetics—inexorably lead us to an instant of time in which everything changes. They think everything changes when computers become as intelligent as man.”

  Becca was used to this. This was her dad. “Geez Dad, that's a hell of a sermon. I’m sure people were streaming to the altar after that.”

  Elisha chuckled. “No, that was just the intro. My point was that everyone sees the results of these exponential advances. But we live linearly. We live day-to-day. The pace of change is accelerating faster and faster. We aren’t progressing so quickly. God has His own concept of a singularity. Time is moving faster, because we’re getting closer to the end. That’s the real singularity—in my opinion.

  “In the first maps, the Middle East was drawn as the center of the world. And Jerusalem was the center of the Middle East. Isn’t it amazing, after all this time, that the Middle East is still the center of the world? Sure, for a period of time, other places seemed like they were the center. Places like the Soviet Union or China. Over time, they fade in importance. In the 1950s, we were worried about the Communist century. In the 1990s, we worried about the Japanese century. Today, many fret about the Chinese century.

  “Mark my words; this century is not going to be the Asian century. The Middle East will be the focal point of the next 100 years. Our time will revolve around the fate of Israel, and the future of Jerusalem. Look how often the Caliphate talks about Jerusalem.”

  “Ok, Dad,” said Becca, treading carefully. She didn’t want to get into an argument. “I don’t understand how that’s a sermon?”

  “I’m getting carried away. I drank too much coffee,” he said, with a hearty chuckle. “The meat of my sermon was to contrast Peter and Judas. Both men saw Jesus. Both men were Jesus’ disciples. Both men sinned. Peter denied Jesus three times. Judas betrayed Jesus. Both men knew they sinned. The difference was their actions after the pain set in.

  “Peter repented. Peter reached a personal singularity. After that, his life was never the same. Judas didn’t repent. His pain led him to hang himself in a potter’s field. So be like Peter. Give your pain to God. And live. That’s the only way to get on the right side of history. Your personal singularity will prepare you for the coming historical singularity—the day that everyone, even unbelievers, see coming.”

  “How was it received?” asked Becca.

  “Well, that’s the best part. For the last year or so, I’ve really felt this nation is undergoing a profound spiritual revival. Other colleagues in the States and around the world have noticed the same thing. I had eleven people give their lives to God. Then, I asked if anybody wanted to come to the altar for an extended time of prayer. Many did. I felt God’s Spirit impart a word of wisdom to me. It pertained to a woman who was standing on crutches around the altar. God impressed upon me to tell her to forgive her mother, who hurt her so long ago. Unforgiveness was blocking her from receiving her healing.

  “I approached the traumatized woman. I told her what the Spirit related to me. It was clear that this woman had experienced a lot of suffering. The deep lines etched on her face told that story. I have no idea what her mom did. But, I knew that she’d been carrying the pain for years, maybe decades. She fell to her knees and began to weep. Then she stood straight up, without her crutches, and hugged me.”

  During the story, Becca got angrier and angrier. Everything in her wanted to shake her father and say, If God could lead you to heal a perfect stranger, why didn’t He—why didn’t you, heal mom? I refuse to believe your fables.

  Elisha continued, “The woman said, ‘I know this is from God. That’s exactly what God’s still small voice whispered to me during your sermon. I’ve never gotten past what she did to me. It’s like an open, festering wound I’ve had for 35 years. I’ve tried to bandage the pain with men, and whiskey, and cocaine. I’ve hurt so many people. I became my mom. I need to be forgiven. But, I’ll start by forgiving my mother.’

  “After she said that, her face changed. She looked 10 years younger. I told her, ‘Sister, forgiveness is a process. Make sure you continually bring this before God until you feel released from the burden of unforgiveness.’”

  Becca smiled croo
kedly. “That’s great Dad. I’ve got to get back to work. It was good to see you.” I need to get out of here before he drones on about Smith Wigglesworth or John G. Lake. If I hear those names again, I’m going to lose it.

  “Becca, one last thing…I’ve started writing a book. I’m calling it, Quantum Faith. I want to examine quantum mechanics and string theory in light of Scripture. My book will discuss what the quantum world tells us about God, Creation, and faith.”

  “That’s interesting Dad. I’ve got to go.”

  *

  Becca was thankful to be done with that. She could only take so much of her father.

  She used the Uber app to request a ride back to the Accelerator. Maryland was one of the first states to allow fully autonomous, driver-less cars—automobiles that could drive the road without any human driver.

  Within five minutes, an Uber-owned, robot car arrived. If the taxi cab companies hated Uber and Lyft drivers, they really hated autonomous cars. There were numerous reports of taxi cab drivers deliberately hitting self-driving cars and falsifying accident reports. However, in states that allowed autonomous vehicles, ride-hailing was much cheaper than owning a car. For the average person, car ownership was their second biggest expense, after housing.

  Becca stepped into a driver-less, Tesla Roadster 2. In the last few years, battery prices for electric vehicles had declined significantly. Electric cars were more affordable than they’d ever been before. Becca began the 35-minute drive back to Defense Innovations Accelerator. Along the way, she dialed Josh. In the past five days, Josh and Becca had exchanged texts and talked via phone a number of times.

  “That was good news in your text,” said Becca.

  “Yeah, it’s awesome. I’m getting some insanely good results with this new deep learning algorithm. I think I’ll be ready to leverage your API next week.”

  “That’s great! I’m on my way to the office from lunch; I’ll be there in about 30 minutes.”

  “Oh, alright…” said Josh, sounding somewhat deflated.

  Becca perceived the difference in the pitch of his voice. Yes, she thought. He’s a little jealous. “I had lunch with my dad in Baltimore.”