The Quantum Brain (Pulse Science Fiction Series Book 2)

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The Quantum Brain (Pulse Science Fiction Series Book 2) Page 6

by John Freitas


  Decker said, “Good.”

  He turned away from camera and shuffled pages on his table. He did not pick up any.

  “Who is in charge of the Q1 project?” Decker asked. “Kell? Is Dr. Kell there?”

  Every eye in the room turned from the screen to Thomas standing against the back wall. He took a step forward and wavered on his feet. He found himself wishing he had stayed against the wall for support. He took his hands out of his pockets for balance, but then didn’t know what to do with them. He ended up crossing his arms.

  “I’m, ugh, I’m here, sir.”

  “I’m taking over the negotiation with the Pentagon on the Q1 applications,” Decker said staring down at his laptop. “This will be going forward and the FBI will be involved in security protocols once the deal goes through.”

  “The Pentagon, sir? The FBI?” Thomas stared at the screen with his arms crossed.

  “Yes, they are the best of friends and business partners under Homeland Security. We need this contract to go through quickly to keep our stock from going into freefall,” Decker said. “I want FBI protocols in place on Q1 beforehand so that nothing is held up.”

  “Are we using the Q1 for military applications, sir? We’re not even sure about its full capabilities yet,” Dr. Kell said.

  “They will use it for any purpose they pay us for,” Miles Decker said. “Being the Pentagon, military applications is a pretty safe bet, I would say. There will eventually be a liaison from both Defense and the Bureau, but I will send you the security that needs to be implemented. You are overseeing our cyber security upgrades, yes, Dr. Kell?”

  “Yes, sir. The encryption and …”

  “Good,” Decker said. “Do you have any doubts the contractor can pull off what I need done.”

  Kell swallowed. “He can do it, sir.”

  “Excellent,” Miles Decker said. He scrolled through something on his laptop and then shook his head. “We are going to be shutting down a few lines of research. Some of you will be moved to other facilities. Others will need to be let go. Again, keep in mind your non compete clauses in your contracts, if that becomes necessary. Nothing personal. We can’t sink the ship because we are trying to save every rat on board, you know? I’m looking through these projects we are pouring money into and I don’t even care about half of them. I’m not sure what Hazel was thinking, but it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

  No one had a response. Most of the managers were staring down at the table. Dr. Kell took a step back to the wall.

  “Dr. Kell again?”

  Thomas Kell stepped forward once more and wrung his hands in front of him. “Sir?”

  “You are overseeing the generation two work also, yes?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Hmm. It’s starting to look like I could keep you on and clear the rest of the room.”

  Those that weren’t staring at the table were glaring at Dr. Kell at that point. He tried to focus on the screen and the Canadian ski lodge.

  “We can’t do any of this alone … sir.”

  “Very magnanimous of you, Dr. Kell, but if the rest of these people want to save their jobs, they will show me usefulness on the projects I care about. It’s your job to work the magic that makes me and CDR money. You don’t need to save managers that can’t save themselves. I’ll make those choices.”

  Dr. Kell looked away from the screen. “Yes, sir.”

  “Generation two. Where are we?”

  “The uplinks have begun. Android body designs are underway including human like figures for domestic models and large industrial designs for construction work,” Dr. Kell said.

  “Good stuff. I’m looking at it now,” Miles Decker said. “Regular hard core sci fi stuff. When will we be ready to roll out production?”

  “The bodies are not a problem,” Dr. Kell said. “The Japanese designers and American universities had already worked out many of the mechanical and aesthetic issues. We improved on their existing designs, of course.”

  “Are we running into any legal or proprietary issues on that front?” Decker asked.

  “No, sir. Our designs are different enough to protect us.”

  “When can we have prototypes in operation for generation two?”

  “We are still working on the AI and operation command system, sir.”

  Miles Decker looked up, but not into camera. “I’ve looked at the data on Q1, Dr. Kell. That thing can operate an android body. What’s the problem?”

  “We are working on the bio hardware design, if you will, so that we can create a version of the Q2 that can be produced in mass and not just be a unique happy accident,” Dr. Kell said.

  “And how close are we to transferring from a happy accident in Q1 to mass production in Q2?” Decker asked.

  “Not exactly close,” Dr. Kell said. “Not out of reach either. We recently moved the objectives of Q2 from drawing board to production and if I’m hearing you right, we are moving from a prototype production goal to mass production.”

  “You are hearing me right,” Miles Decker said. He rolled his knuckles over his table making a drumming sound. “We need a moon shot, Dr. Kell. CDR is not going under. This is going to happen. Consider me Kennedy at a Texas university surprising the geeks with an impossible promise. But I’m also Nixon living to see the thing happen too. You hear me?”

  “I hear what you are saying, sir?”

  “Good.” Miles Decker closed his laptop and folded his hands behind his head still facing sideways in frame. It had started to snow outside the windows. “I’m not willing to wait a decade for my moon landing, Doctor. The government has no regulations on androids at this point, so we can rush to market and be grandfathered in as we rake in money. My father used to say with government, if it moves, they want to tax it. If it keeps moving, they want to regulate it. If it stops moving, they’ll subsidize it. Now we know how to avoid taxes. The way to avoid regulation is to move before they realize you are moving. Once every house and every business owns our androids, they all become customers and they all become constituents. People won’t want the government messing with their new toys then. We’ll have ground to fight against restrictions on their power or their intelligence. If regulation comes before we have taken ownership of the market, it becomes harder. I don’t like my life being difficult. So, what are we going to do and how quickly can we do it?”

  “It won’t be easy, but I will deliver generation two in whatever timeframe you allow, sir, if you are willing to allocate enough resources,” Dr. Kell said.

  “Consider everyone in the room that wants to keep their jobs at your disposal, Doctor.”

  At least the managers had all stopped glaring at him. Dr. Kell had a feeling they were all about to start desperately hounding him and kissing up. That was somehow worse in his mind than their forthright contempt.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “When the security contractor arrives, Dr. Kell, I want you to bring him up to Hazel Conrad’s office,” Miles Decker said.

  All eyes were on Dr. Kell again.

  “Her office, sir?”

  “Yes, I have it sealed off until you and the contractor get there,” Miles Decker said. “I’ll come on for a conference call on the screen in there once you are both there. Do you have any questions, Doctor?”

  Thomas Kell cleared his throat and said, “A lot actually, sir.”

  Miles Decker actually smiled and Dr. Kell found it terrifying. Decker lifted his mug and took another sip before setting it down with a clunk. “Do you understand the instructions as I have given them at least?”

  “Yes, sir. Do you want me to call in the contractor early?”

  “No. Whenever he arrives is fine. I have other things to attend to as well. The rest of you will have instructions emailed for each of your divisions. Follow them exactly. Those of you being let go today, security is waiting for you at your office to see you out. Your personal possessions will be mailed to you.”

  The screen went bl
ue.

  No one moved at first.

  One manager near the head of the table turned his chair and said, “Dr. Kell, let me be the first to tell you how honored and proud I am to be working with you through this transition for our company.”

  Dr. Kell turned and walked out of the conference room without responding. He found himself hoping that guy was going to be one of the ones cut today. He thought maybe Miles Decker’s ruthless nature might be contagious.

  8

  Dr. Thomas Kell and Mark Spencer walked past the industrial shredder in the outer office toward the ornate door. Two security guards stood outside.

  Dr. Kell cleared his throat and said, “Miles Decker told us to go in there. That’s all I know.”

  One of the men nodded. “We know.”

  “How’s it going, Mr. Hall?” Mark asked.

  Thomas felt bad that the contractor knew the security guard’s name, but he didn’t.

  The one that answered to the name Mr. Hall crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I’m guarding the office of one of our beloved partners who is now dead. So, I’ve had better days.”

  “Buck up,” Mark said. “Maybe the week will still turn around for you.”

  Dr. Kell’s eyes went wide. Mr. Hall was glaring at Mark. He turned his attention off the contractor to Thomas Kell. “When you are in there with him, Dr. Kell, keep your eyes on him at all times. We don’t need any sensitive materials mishandled or her things mistreated.”

  Thomas Kell swallowed. “Okay.”

  “Does this mean I’m not going to be calling you Calvin any time soon?” Mark asked.

  “Tread lightly, Mr. Spencer. This is not the time for your jokes and disrespect. Thank you.”

  Mark Spencer was glaring back. “With all due respect then, Calvin, Mr. Miles Decker has asked me to enter this office now. Unless you overrule him at CDR, then I don’t need your permission on top of that. So, kindly step aside and don’t delay our work any further. Thank you.”

  Calvin Hall narrowed his eyes, but he and the other guard stepped aside. Mark and Thomas stepped forward. Mark opened the door himself and they stepped through before closing it back.

  Mark held out his hands. “Well, that went swimmingly. What now?”

  “A conference call on a screen?”

  Thomas did not remember a screen from his last visit to this suite. The porcelain warrior and lion were still on the table in front of the leather sofa. So were the tea set and the silver case. Thomas heard the clock ticking and spotted it sitting on a shelf with leather bound tomes on both sides. Thomas wondered if they were just for show or if they were prized property of Hazel Conrad or whoever was now her heir. There were no pictures of children or grandchildren. A laptop sat closed on the center of a pristine wooden desk.

  “Did you bring a screen with you?” Mark asked.

  An oil painting on the wall slid sideways with the sound of an electric motor under the ticks of that solitary clock. For a moment, Thomas Kell imagined the ghost of Hazel Conrad sliding it as she haunted the office. It stopped one painting length down from its original position. Underneath the painting had been hidden a monitor like a wide screen TV sat silent and black. It went blue and then Miles Decker was sitting in a recliner with his feet kicked up.

  He was wearing a fleece parka. The storm had picked up outside nearly whiting out the scene. The camera view was closer to the windows now. Decker had an open crystalline bottle on the table next to his chair and held a tumbler half filled with a liquid Thomas guessed was scotch.

  Miles Decker said, “Hello again, Dr. Kell. Mark Spencer, I presume.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mark said.

  Thomas exhaled feeling relieved that Spencer was not talking to Decker the way he had spoken to Calvin Hall outside.

  Miles Decker said, “I’ve had a day, but I’m not interested in recounting it or receiving your sympathy – heartfelt or otherwise. If it works for you two, I’d like to explain our business here in a dead woman’s office and be done with it. Will that do?”

  Thomas Kell nodded.

  Mark Spencer said, “Works for me. Tell me what you need.”

  “Your non disclosure agreements cover this conversation. It would serve you both well to fully understand that. Do you both understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” both men said in unison as they faced across Hazel Conrad’s nearly empty desk.

  “Hazel Conrad did not use computers despite being senior partner of one of the largest technology companies in the history of the world.” Miles Decker paused long enough to take another swallow of his scotch. Thomas glanced down at the laptop in front of him and back up at Miles Decker on the screen. “Her secretary and personal assistant input all of her data, transcribed messages into e-mail, and so on. Of course, her laptop utilized for that purpose sits in front of you. Her secretary died with her in a fiery mess in the mountains of West Virginia. I need the data pulled from her computer and everything that involved her secretary’s codes. I need it sent to my private computers and swept off our systems there. Is that something you can do for me, Mr. Spencer?”

  Mark Spencer stepped around the desk and sat down as he opened the laptop. As it powered on, Mark turned the chair toward the screen. “Do you know her password?”

  “If I knew her password,” Decker said, “I’d have one of our IT guys do this. Did I mention the fiery mess in West Virginia? That’s where the password went and now I need this data and this computer opened.”

  “Is it automatically connected to the CDR servers?”

  “I believe so.”

  Mark turned the chair back toward the desk. “Give me just a moment.”

  “She would be quite upset in whatever afterlife she finds herself to know you were sitting in her chair,” Miles said from the screen behind Mark.

  Mark Spencer sighed and asked, “Would you prefer I stand while doing this task for you, sir?”

  “Just do the task.” Decker took another large swallow and refilled his tumbler from the bottle.

  “I’m in the system,” Mark said. “I have all her data and all information that passed through this laptop and from codes used on this laptop. It appears ‘Iron Ladybird’ was the label used by her secretary as Ms. Conrad’s proxy. All that data is bundled, if you want to tell me where to send it.”

  “That was fast,” Decker said. “Are our systems really that vulnerable to hacking?”

  Mark made eye contact with Dr. Kell and then turned the chair toward the screen again. “Not exactly, sir. We created an encryption to handle the uplinks for Dr. Kell’s projects. We also created an algorithm that sorts data more quickly for his projects. I was able to use that to collect what you needed, but it does not allow me to see any of it because my temporary clearance is not high enough. Yours will allow you to see everything. If you’ll tell me where you want the data sent, I’ll do that and then once you confirm you got it, I can sponge it from the system.”

  “No one else will be able to retrieve it even from within CDR?” Miles Decker asked.

  “Only you will have it after we complete the transfer,” Mark Spencer said.

  “You are in her laptop now?”

  “Yes, sir.” Mark swung back toward the desk.

  “I’m sending the address for the data transfer through an instant message to the Iron Ladybird account.” Decker took out his phone and typed with one hand while holding his scotch with the other.

  “I have it, sir. Transferring now.” Mark Spencer stood up and walked back around the desk.

  “What about erasing it from the system?” Decker asked.

  “You’ll get a command icon once you open the data,” Mark said. “Then, your code will allow you to authorize the erase automatically from CDR’s system.”

  “Well done,” Decker said. “Both of you. Now, stay there until this is done. I’ll send in the crew to pack her things once it is finished and you can go back to your other tasks then.”

  The screen went blue and then bl
ack. The painting motored slowly back into place.

  “It must be a real trip working here every day,” Mark said.

  Thomas sighed and turned away. “I’m supposed to be handling pure research. My job is drifting further and further away from that every moment into whatever this is that we are doing.”

  Mark shrugged. “Wealthy people and their secrets.”

  Dr. Kell laughed and choked it back down thinking that having a laugh over a dead woman’s desk wasn’t the best idea. He thought Calvin Hall in the outer office might hear through the door and not take kindly to it.

  “Would you ever work for a place like CDR?” Dr. Kell asked.

  “I am working for CDR right now,” Mark said. “I’m doing work they don’t even want their own IT guys to know about.”

  “Right.” Dr. Kell shook his head. “That’s not exactly what I meant. I meant would you ever consider working for a place like this all the time? Coming here morning after morning?”

  Mark shrugged. “Not much advantage to the illusion of a steady paycheck. The money is better in contracting. Not so much between contracts, I suppose. You have to sign away your rights same as me for that steady paycheck. They are always threatening to fire everyone if you aren’t looking scared and submissive enough. Then, if they do fire you, you can’t even get a job in your field for two years. So, you can’t afford to quit. You can’t even afford to look for other work. When I’m done here, I’ll take my money … I’ll take what’s rightfully mine and I’ll walk away a free man. So, I guess that’s the long way of saying I wouldn’t be interested in being beholden to a place like CDR or a man like Miles Decker … or Hazel Conrad’s ghost. No offense to either one if they are listening in right now.”

  Mark looked up at the ceiling.

  Thomas Kell laughed and didn’t make an effort to stifle it this time.

  Dr. Kell said, “Maybe I should think about joining you. We could be a team and get work as …”

  Thomas Kell staggered and grabbed hold of the desk as a wave of dizziness took hold and wouldn’t seem to let go.

 

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