Bishop squinted and focused on getting a better look through the sand and debris flying around. “Is that...?” He raised his eyebrows as the man and woman neared the water. “Lindsey—Lin—can it be?”
Rubbing his chin, Monroe opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Bishop took a few big steps out of the water.
“It is you.” He stretched out his arms, and the woman ran straight into them. He gave her a firm hug. Then he pushed her away from him, held her at the shoulders and took a good look at the woman dressed in jeans and a khaki shirt. “My God, it is you. You look great. How have you been? How long has it been? What are you doing here?”
“Which question would you like answered first?” Lindsey asked, smiling.
Monroe cleared his throat with a crunchy “hem-hem” while walking out of the water.
“Sorry, Walker. This is Lindsey Wilson. It is still Wilson?”
She nodded. “It’s Dr. Lindsey Wilson actually.”
“Dr. Lindsey Wilson.” Bishop pointed both hands at Lindsey. “This is Walker Monroe, friend and colleague.”
As Monroe shook the woman’s hand, the man behind her stepped forward. “We know who you are, Mr. Monroe. Pleasure to meet you.”
Monroe’s forehead wrinkled.
“And this is Ralph Ignatowski, a co-worker of mine,” Lindsey explained.
Bishop turned to Monroe. “Um, Lindsey and I studied mathematics together at Berkeley a long time ago.” Bishop’s college days flashed before his eyes. Even though he and Lindsey had been good friends in school, they’d lost track after graduating. Now and then he would think of her, and why they were never more than friends.
“Early this century,” Lin added, smiling.
Bishop snapped out of a thousand thoughts that crossed his mind. “That leaves the question,” Bishop said. “Why are you here, with such luxurious transportation, after so many years?”
“I’m sorry about the entrance, but we came looking for you at the university. They told me you took the day off and had gone fishing. Fishing, Matthew Bishop?” she frowned. “I never figured you a fisherman,” she quickly continued. “Your department’s secretary knew of your favorite fishing spot, and when I explained the urgency to the dean, the university was all too eager to give us a ride here.”
“Mysterious,” Monroe pitched his voice. “I get a feeling that we don’t go fishing today?”
“I’m sorry,” Lyndsey replied. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
Bishop looked left and right, then shrugged. The bait and tackle shop closed down long ago. “The only place we can sit is the fish cleaning place next to the shop.” He pointed at a long picnic table next to a large worktop with two sinks. “The smell could be better, but we can sit, and it’s private.”
“Fine by me.” Lindsey walked to the cleaning place. “I’m not sure...?” She looked at Monroe as he followed them.
Bishop reacted immediately. “I’ve no idea why you’re here, but Walker may hear anything you have to say to me.”
Lindsey left it at that and continued on her way, the three men following in her wake.
The fish cleaning place—next to a rundown shed that functioned as ‘bathhouse’—was nothing more than a few wooden beams holding a weathered corrugated iron roof, and a sandy floor. The place smelled of rotten fish. Probably from the trash bins that were emptied bi-weekly.
“Please sit,” Lindsey said, taking off her jacket and laying it on the wooden bench before sitting on it.
Bishop and Monroe sat down opposite the two visitors.
“So, how long has it been, fifteen years? Probably longer,” Bishop said, answering his own question. “What brings you here and is so damned important my boss will lend you a helicopter and harass me on my day off?” He gave a bright smile.
“Almost twenty years,” Lindsey answered. “And my boss called your boss and convinced him of the importance that we meet, so here we are. But let me get to the point. After college, I worked a few years in the private sector before I was recruited as an analyst with the National Security Agency. And basically, that’s what I’ve been doing for the past fifteen years.”
“Nice.” Bishop chuckled. “The NSA? You became a domestic spy.”
“You make it sound fascinating, but forget everything you ever saw on TV,” Lindsey replied. “It’s a 98 percent desk job, and 1 percent is probably the walks to the coffee machine and the water cooler. But, mainly, I do cryptanalysis and ‘signals and communications intelligence’ for U.S. national security systems.”
“Sounds important,” Monroe said. “And if I’m not mistaken, you’re still missing a percent.”
“Sharp.” She smiled. “We’ll get to that in a minute.”
“And you, what is your name, Igna...?” Bishop asked.
“Ignatowski,” the man replied. “And I don’t work for the NSA if that’s your next question.”
Bishop nodded.
“On this subject, the NSA collaborates with another Department of the Defense agency, the National Reconnaissance Office.”
Lindsey crossed her legs. “Iggy here works for the NRO and is an expert in everything that has to do with satellites and is also handy with computers. Hacking them, that is.”
“Wow,” Bishop interrupted. “Members of the U.S. Intelligence Community working together. I guess there’s a first for everything.”
Where the NSA—since its founding in 1952 by President Harry Truman—was always openly secret about their task in cracking secret codes and wiretapping, the NRO, since 1961, had the reputation as the nation’s most secretive intelligence agency. Its existence had been a state secret up until 1992. Nowadays, the ‘spy satellite organization’ doesn’t only produce intelligence for the other members of the Intelligence Community, their imagery’s also used to assess the effects of natural and manmade disasters and to enforce environmental treaties.
“And now for getting to the point.” Bishop stretched his arms over the table.
“Yes, sure. As for the remaining 1 percent,” Lindsey replied. “Let me see. Where to begin? A few months ago, the NRO contacted the NSA about some disturbing findings from their global satellite surveillance.”
Chapter 3 – Occidium One
Lake Tahoe, CA, The Present
The Lake Tahoe Airport was an 8,500-foot single strip of black asphalt in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, south of Lake Tahoe. In 2012 the airport had closed its commercial services due to lack of revenue. Since then, the airstrip has been used for planes contributing to emergency services, disaster relief and forest firefighting in the Lake Tahoe Basin area. Until three years ago.
Three years ago, Eldin Arthur Mulder, the e-tech billionaire, was looking for a location to build his new Logynous Research Center. Since the founding of his Internet company, Logynous, in 2002—a platform matching freelancers—he founded, and sometimes sold, a wide variety of hi-tech companies. His latest adventures included an electric car factory, Logynous Motors; a revolutionary Internet search engine, Logynous Search and an aerospace manufacturer called L-Space. He even ventured into health care with gene-based therapy studies.
Born in the Netherlands, the nationalized American was often considered by the traditional e-tech companies a rogue scientist and opportunistic entrepreneur who exploited his employees. He was also known for his strategy to buy companies, and if they didn’t perform, with no regard to its employees, sell or dismantle them again. Still, employees would line up to work for the handsome, charismatic, extravagant, eccentric and loudmouthed billionaire. His successes overshadowed his failures. Where the big Moloch companies from the previous century had become too big and bulky to innovate, Mulder succeeded.
It was Mulder who located the Logynous Research Center right along the Fallen Leaf shore, a mile south of Lake Tahoe. He did so by buying all the ground surrounding the lake, including the Lake Tahoe Airport. He renewed the roads leading to and from the LRC and the airport, and he developed an airplane taxi s
ervice for employees between the larger coastal cities and the center. He also built luxury houses along the lake’s shore to free-house the specialists and their families whom he recruited from all over the world.
Burning under the bright sun, the speckled white Dassault Falcon 2000LX plane landed and with a high-pitched whir, taxied from the end of the runway into a private hanger. Within seconds the motor had stopped, and a staircase unfolded from the plane. A man dressed in dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and black sports jacket, wearing a pair of Persol sunglasses below a blue New York Yankees baseball cap, descended. The medium built, five feet, nine inches tall man took off his cap and glasses as he hit the ground. He squinted his piercing blue eyes, protecting them from the bright sunlight coming through the hangar doors. Then he addressed the woman who rushed toward him and handed him a briefcase.
“Is everything in there?” Mulder asked.
“A double print, the overnight specifics, should you need them, and the updated list of attendees.”
“Thank you, Amie,” Mulder said, and with his distinctive big steps, he walked toward the exit.
“I’ll join you again at the center,” Amie called out after him. She wasn’t sure he’d heard her, but it didn’t matter.
Amie Coleman, the sporty, good-looking red-head in her late thirties, had been Mulder’s assistant and confidant for over ten years. There were moments she felt she also was his therapist. She sometimes had a hard time following the ever working and demanding Mulder, but she knew he needed her. The man trusted her with his secrets and, that alone, made her loyal, apart from the high six-figure salary he paid her, which she used to maintain her sick mother and unemployed dad.
Outside, Mulder walked toward Lgé One, one of the first Logynous electric autonomous cars, and sat in the back. As soon as he settled in, a female voice sounded through the car’s speakers.
“Good morning, Eldin. Can I take you to the center?” The female’s voice sounded warm. On the center screen in the front of the car, a young woman’s face appeared. Lea, short for Logynous Electronic Assistant, had short blonde hair, full lips, and blue eyes in a round face. She was the avatar for a so-called cognitive Artificial Intelligence solution that Logynous had first developed for its self-driving cars. Over the past few years, she transformed into a personal digital assistant who not only drove your car but also made your calls, played your music, turned on your TV, closed the blinds, locked your house, ordered groceries and played computer games with you. Lea worked through your television, mobile phone, car, watch and computer. If you wanted, she was always with you. Though she only existed of bits and bytes, Lea became so successful that Mulder built a new company, Logynous Workforce, around it. The company now successfully developed and delivered digital employees and robotics based on AI.
“Yes, please, Lea, take me to the center,” Mulder responded, and the car set itself in motion. The Emerald Bay Road was the only road they needed for the thirteen-minute drive through South Lake Tahoe, from the airport to the research center. Mulder always enjoyed the little time he had to take in the scenery. At this time of year, the slopes and paths to the mountains were overrun by mountain bikers and hikers. In the winter, Monument Peak was known for its excellent skiing. After passing the Fallen Leaf campground, Lea turned the car right onto the research center’s private road for the last quarter mile. On the left and right of the wide path, the pine trees were the only things to be seen that marked the scenery. After a minute, the car slowed down as it neared a simple red and white barrier. Alongside the road, a dozen or so cars were parked, and people with cameras took pictures of Mulder hanging outside the car’s window. With his eyes closed, the tech giant appeared to enjoy it or didn’t seem to care. The gate opened as the car came closer. Lea skillfully drove the vehicle onto the grounds.
“We are almost there, sir. I hope you had a pleasant drive,” she said, smiling on the screen.
“Thank you, Lea.” Mulder closed the window and looked through the front window as they drove to the entrance of the Logynous Research Center. He loved coming here.
Three years ago, he created the one-level building that ran 150 feet along the Fallen Leaf lake shoreline. Thirty employees’ only task was to develop new technologies and inventions of their own choice. The only thing Mulder demanded was that he join them every other week and listen to his ideas about the future and technologies. The next time he visited, they gave him feedback about his thoughts and tell him why they did or didn’t do anything with it. No hard feelings. Complete freedom, it seemed. As the ideas grew, so did the building and the number of employees. The building, now over five hundred feet wide, stretching along the shore, housed more than three hundred workers. On the outside, the building was built like a giant wooden log house. On the inside, the building gave a completely different impression. The stretched structure was divided by a hallway in the center with laboratories and technical experimentation rooms on the forest side and offices, conference rooms, a playground and a gym facing the lake.
The white entrance looked almost sterile with paintings on the wall that had only white and gray themes.
Mulder got out of the car. The car drove itself to a parking space far behind the trees. As Mulder entered the building, a round transparent booth in the center of the large entrance lit up. Lea’s avatar, now with a body, displayed on the LG Transparent OLED signage screen. The large, round transparent TV screen made Lea look like a hologram.
“Welcome back, Eldin,” Lea said. “They are waiting for you in conference room one.”
“Is everyone here?”
“Everyone except Amie. However, if I am not mistaken....” Lea paused, and after a short moment, the doors behind them opened, and Amie walked in. “There she is,” Lea finished.
“I see we weren’t able to keep today as big a secret as we would have loved,” Amie said as she removed her red Louboutin pumps.
“You mean the cars at the barrier,” Eldin replied. “If you want to keep a secret, keep it only to yourself. It doesn’t matter. They will know soon enough.” Mulder had sent the invitation to a select group of reporters at respected science magazines and large newspapers all over the globe. As expected, the message Mulder had sent was shrouded in mystery and spoke of a life- and world-changing event. For the past weeks, on social media, the extravagant engineer and entrepreneur had hinted at such through messages on Twitter like:
Two weeks to go and we’ll never be the same again.
~~~
Ever really thought about what tomorrow would look like today?
And the latest this morning:
Soon we’ll walk the skies again, only this time we won’t be using only our imagination.
“Now, everyone is here for the press conference.” Lea pointed toward the hallway on the left.
“Thank you, Lea,” Mulder said. “Are you ready?” He gestured to Amie to lead the way.
The loud buzz among the reporters quickly died down as Amie—carrying her shoes— followed by Mulder, entered the room. The thirty- by seventy-foot room displayed vivid color pictures of Logynous products and inventions on its bright, glossy white walls. Pictured from the latest augmented reality glasses on the left to the newest prototype of the Hawkeye-FX1 rocket that Mulder claimed would bring people to Mars within five years. On the rows of folding chairs, a little over one hundred curious reporters gathered and anxiously waited for Mulder’s latest grand claim. There was no podium, no lectern. Mulder liked it best to be able to walk freely everywhere during a presentation. He put his briefcase next to the wall, and briefly peeked through the curtain that covered a window behind him. He turned to Amie at the side of the room, nodded, turned back to the reporters and put on a bright smile.
“Good morning.” He paused for a long moment, took a deep breath and took in the room. This was the moment why he did it all. His moment. He felt ultimately powerful, knowing something everyone wanted to know. People like his 40 million followers on Twitter. “Welcome to to
day’s presentation, especially at this location that, to most of you, must look like the middle of nowhere. There’s been a lot of speculation about what was happening here these past few months at the Logynous Research Center. What would they come up with next? I read ideas about cold-fusion.” Mulder shook his head profoundly. “A new cryptocurrency.” Again, he shook his head. “Or perhaps wireless electricity? No, no, and nope. Nothing of the sort. I was thinking of telling you, but instead, I decided I should show you.” He reached to the rope hanging next to the curtain. “Shall I?” he asked playfully.
The room quickly filled with noise, and most of the reporters now nodded or shouted agreeably. Mulder now took the rope with both hands, and with one big pull, the curtain fell to the floor. Everyone rose from their chairs to get a good look inside.
Behind the glass, in a stainless-steel chamber, two men in spotless white coveralls were working on what looked like an upside-down copper distilling kettle. A multitude of copper pipes and electrical cables hung from it. The machine looked as high-tech as something from Leonardo da Vinci’s workshop.
Mulder looked into the room and saw some of the reporters returning to their seats, looking disappointed. “If you all will please return to your places, I will explain.” Mulder opened his briefcase and removed a slender object. “I know what you’re thinking.” He waved a piece of circuitry in his hand. “You think you saw this before, three years ago, to be exact.” He paused for a long moment. “Back then, I presented you with the first working quantum computer in the world that proved quantum supremacy. For the first time, we saw a quantum computer performing a task in minutes that a traditional supercomputer would take at least ten thousand years to perform. We called it Quantum Supremacy. Unfortunately, due to the three basic problems with quantum computing, I also had to announce that we didn’t have to expect practical applications in the foreseeable future. This was especially disappointing for me because of the anticipated applications in artificial intelligence. But also in the fields of drug development, or even closer to home, weather forecasting and climate change predictions. Today, I’m here to tell you that after only three years, we will leave the era of Noise Intermediate-Scale Quantum computing behind us.” Again, he waived the circuitry in his hand. “I present to you the first Quantum Error Correction processor. We call it the Occidium One.” Mulder paused for a long moment, waving the device in his hand like it was a world cup.
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