The Babel Tower

by J. B. Simmons

  THE

  BABEL

  TOWER

  by

  J.B. SIMMONS

  Copyright © 2017 J.B. Simmons

  www.jbsimmons.com

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN 978-1547121366

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons is coincidental.

  Published by Three Cord Press

  Cover by Konstantin Kiselyov

  Translations by Babel

  PART ONE

  Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.

  Genesis 11:4

  1

  Elizabeth Trammell breezed into Babel through the tall glass doors and the white marble lobby. The workers stopped what they were doing as she passed. It happened every day—this woman entering the company headquarters, face beaming. But that didn’t make it less of an event. The sun rises daily, and it’s special every time.

  She stepped into a brushed steel elevator and pressed her thumb to the panel. Her eyes met the reflection in the mirror wall. She smiled, knowing she should be used to the attention by now. It was part of the job.

  She frowned, squinted, made a fish-face. Straight white teeth. Cool blue eyes. Blonde hair in place, parallel to the lines of her face, and precise in length to her chin. She tilted her gaze down, confirming that her usual uniform was in order: no makeup or jewels, just dark skinny jeans, designer heels, and a white V-neck sweater. White meant it was Monday, with a long week ahead.

  The elevator doors slid open to reveal Katarina Popova waiting in a black skirt suit, clutching a tablet in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. The young woman was stunning, with straight brown hair and dark eyes.

  “Morning, Liz. Coffee?”

  Liz took the mug and wiped away a drip that was running down the big rainbow block letters—BABEL.

  Glass-walled offices lined the long hall toward Liz’s office. She eyed her staff as she passed. They were glued to their screens, staring at the latest company news and the sales data pouring in for Babel’s devices. Katarina trailed close after Liz, giving the morning report.

  “Forbes released its latest list,” Katarina said.

  “Oh?”

  “They say you’ll crack the hundred richest in the world after we go public next year. And the top five for women.”

  “Super,” Liz said. “And the tabloids?”

  A slight laugh escaped Katarina’s lips. “The usual. You’re a lonely tyrant bent on conquering the world. You’re a pawn of a Russian spy and a security threat. You’re a world-class narcissist who has cloned herself.”

  “If only it were so simple.” Liz smiled, glad that Katarina was taking it lightly, for once. “How about the real news?”

  Katarina summarized the rest of the papers. The company’s miraculous little Babel devices were penetrating the world’s most remote places. One article told how Babel had advanced peace in the Middle East. Another was about changed lives in Indonesia. Nothing new, Liz thought. It was what Babel had been doing since day one.

  Liz stepped into her corner office and kicked off her high heels. The empty space was immense, with spectacular views of San Francisco. After a quick glance outside—and seeing nothing but fog—Liz perched on the edge of her desk.

  She sipped her coffee and watched Katarina’s lips. The words continued to come out in Russian, but they played in Liz’s ears in English. Only the faintest echo of Katarina’s natural voice could be heard past the quaint British accent.

  Liz set her coffee mug down, its porcelain base clinging softly on the glass table.

  “Are you listening?” Katarina asked.

  “Sure, it’s a full day.” Liz slid off the desk, facing Katarina. “We leave soon to meet with marketing. What else?”

  “And why are we meeting with marketing?”

  Liz shrugged.

  Katarina lifted an eyebrow. “How late were you up last night?”

  Liz didn’t answer. Katarina wouldn’t understand. It wasn’t just about the work anymore. Liz kept waking up in the middle of the night, unable to shake thoughts about her father and his designs—the blueprints smudged with sketches and the lines stabbing into the sky.

  “What I was saying,” Katarina continued, “is that marketing wants to tweak the rainbow logo. Then you’re with software for a half hour. They’ll demo new developments in … Is your Babel working?”

  “It always does.” Liz tapped her ear playfully, the device resting imperceptibly behind her lobe. “Marketing’s always getting worked up over the details.”

  “The devil’s in the details. We have only a few weeks before the official announcement.”

  “I know, but we’ve already hit our goals. It’s just a matter of time now.” Thinking about the next few weeks made Liz shudder. So much waiting, so much attention. She cared about the big picture. People like Katarina could handle the logistics. “When’s my flight to Morocco?”

  Katarina glanced at her tablet, then looked up again. She pushed her thick-rimmed glasses back to the bridge of her nose. “Three, this afternoon. You land in Marrakesh tomorrow. The King will be waiting.”

  “Now that’s more interesting,” Liz said. “I still need to prepare for the trip. Why don’t you sit in for me in the meetings today?”

  “They’re expecting you…”

  “I know,” Liz said, “but you can handle this.”

  “Well, there wouldn’t be Babel without you, but…” Katarina grinned, “if you want me to sit in for you again, I’m happy to do it.”

  “That’s what COOs are for.”

  “Oh, so now we have formal titles?”

  Liz lifted a pen from her desk and ceremoniously lowered it to Katarina’s left shoulder, then her right. “I hereby name you Chief Operations Officer of Babel and honorary Keeper of the Paperwork.”

  “It’s Operating Officer. My first act will be to hire you another assistant.”

  Liz laughed. “I like it. You’re loosening up.”

  “Thanks…I guess.” Katarina pointed to the frosted-glass door behind her. “Your friends are here.”

  “Friends?”

  “I knew you weren’t listening…” Katarina crossed her arms. “You invited them to come last week. You said you needed independent voices—people who knew you before Babel took off.”

  “Right, I need to bounce an idea off them.”

  “Is this what you’ve been staying up late for?”

  Liz sat back on her desk and grinned. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ll know soon enough. Does anything stay hidden from you around here?” Liz glanced at the clock above the door. It showed 8:28 in bright red digits. “Send them in.”

  Katarina nodded, then pointed down.

  “What?” Liz asked.

  “Shoes.”

  “Ah.” Liz wriggled her bare toes. “COO rule number seventeen: never attend a meeting barefoot. But these are friends. Shoes can wait.”

  Katarina sighed and left to get Liz’s friends.

  Dylan Galant walked in first, followed by Rachel Conrad, Owen Strand, and Jax Wong.

  They shared hellos, and Dylan stepped to the wall of glass. The clouds had parted, revealing slivers of the Bay. “You should have us up here more often,” he said.

  Liz eyed his silhouette against the city below. His red hair was like fire. “I know. Sorry. It’s been crazy busy. How have you been?”

  “Better than ever.” Dylan glided past her, joining the other three sitting in front of Liz’s desk. “We’ve had some breakthroughs in
the lab. Great students this semester.”

  “Good to hear.” Liz studied the familiar faces. They reminded her of home, of family. “Thanks for coming on short notice. I can’t stop thinking about what to do next.”

  “Next?” Rachel asked.

  Liz couldn’t help but smile. “You still boycotting the news?”

  “It’s still all bad,” Rachel said. “Murders, falling stocks, and cold winds off Lake Michigan. I have better things to do with my time. Like feed my baby.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her,” Liz said. “At least you got to use the company jet, right?”

  “It beats flying coach.”

  “And it lets you be here.” Liz leaned forward, hands on her knees. “Here’s the point. Once Babel goes public, I’ll have time to move on, do something new…something amazing.”

  “You could cure cancer,” Dylan said.

  Liz shook her head. “You know that’s not me. Plenty of people are working on cures. This needs to be new.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Rachel asked.

  “A million things, but…nothing that fits.” Her father’s designs flashed again in her mind. “I’ve been so wrapped up in this company that I’ve forgotten what makes me tick.”

  “So you brought us here us to help you remember?” Rachel let out a faint laugh, her brown hair swaying. “You could have just called.”

  “I know. But this is big, Rach. If you’d told me back in school that I could have unlimited resources, what would I have done?”

  “Go to the moon?” Jax mused, leaning back in his chair and pointing to the ceiling high above. When he looked back at Liz, she noticed dark circles under his eyes. He’d never been a morning person.

  “Okay…that’s closer.” Liz slid off the desk. She walked around it, her bare feet silent on the bamboo floors, and looked out over the city. She turned back to her friends, the Golden Gate Bridge framing her figure. “What else?”

  “How about start a new country on an island?” Owen’s typical, easy smile was on full display. He’d been Liz’s lawyer from the beginning, and now he was Babel’s general counsel. Way too young for the job, but whip smart and worked himself to the bone. And Liz trusted him.

  “Go on,” she said.

  Owen adjusted his glasses. “You’ll always be tied down in this country, and in any other one. So you could build an island, like the Chinese, but build it twelve miles from any country’s shore. That way you can make it an independent nation, free from anyone else’s sovereignty. Design your own flag. Make it self-sustaining, with schools and hospitals…all under the visionary President Trammell.”

  “Hmm…I’d prefer Queen Trammell.” Liz returned to her spot on the desk and folded her legs underneath her. “An island nation sounds like something pirates or drug smugglers would do. I want people to join me, not to make them run away.”

  “Why leave the company?” Dylan asked. “Just because it goes public doesn’t mean you have to find a new job. I mean, let someone else do all the work, but as long as you’re with Babel, you could change the world with all that data.”

  Liz’s expression tightened, her lips pressed into a thin white line. The four friends knew the look and tried to avoid it.

  Liz spoke evenly: “Your words understood, your secrets safe.”

  “Yeah, yeah, company motto and all that.” Dylan waved the concern away. “But I say the data is worth more than your billions. It gives you access to so many conversations. Why not use it for good? You could stop terrorist attacks. Expose corrupt politicians. Connect long lost lovers. Imagine what your coders could do with algorithms running through every word spoken and heard on the planet.”

  Liz’s head was shaking. “Babel is about overcoming limits, but we’ve made promises that have to be kept. Look, I appreciate the idea. I don’t want to miss something brilliant, so keep thinking about it. But I want to build something. This isn’t about opening Pandora’s box or some one-off experience.” She grinned at Jax. “As cool as the moon might be.”

  “So what’s next?” Owen asked, always the practical one. “You want us to come up with a list of ideas?”

  “Sure, that’s a start.” Liz reached down and picked up her earpiece and her high heels. “I’m off to Morocco later today, but let’s talk again before I go. Katarina will slot you into my schedule.”

  The four friends followed Liz to the door, where Katarina greeted them with a professional smile. She scheduled time for each of them with Liz. She saved Dylan for last. She’d been listening to what he said about the data, about changing the world, and she’d been smiling. Anyone who wanted to use the data could be used.

  2

  Jax left the meeting with Liz and went to the vault at Babel headquarters. Liz had texted him to say she would come soon, before she flew to Morocco. So he waited, pacing before the computer and the code he’d written ten years ago. The code that started all this. A strip of tape was stuck to the top of the monitor, with the scribbled riddle: “What do we all have in common, but rarely share?”

  Jax wrote it before he wrote the code. He’d never forget the answer. He liked to keep it there, as a reminder.

  What do we all have in common, but rarely share?

  Secrets.

  It was a secret that he hated Dylan. It was a secret that he’d killed his first pet, a hamster, in a science experiment. “I woke up and he was dead,” he’d lied to his mom. She believed it. The hamster was gone, but the secret lived on. Secrets were like that. The owners of secrets died, but not the secret itself. If Jax believed in heaven, he figured there would be a library there full of books composed of everyone’s hidden words. The biggest library ever.

  The things that only he knew were what made him who he was. No one could guess them. But everyone else had their own secrets, too. Some were dark. Some were illicit. Some were full of love.

  Like his love for Liz. All his other secrets wrapped around it, like iron bands around a burning ember. The ember hadn’t cooled since the day he’d cracked the Babel code. He had relived the memory so many times, from so many angles. This time he chose the view of an imagined fly on the wall of Liz’s old bedroom in Chicago—the luckiest fly on the planet.

  Here is what the fly saw: Elizabeth Trammell and Jackson Wong, two teenagers pressed close, not touching, but facing a computer screen full of living and breathing code that only one of them understood. He was the short pimpled boy who everyone called Jax. The other teen was his muse. She was perfect and celestial and always out of reach. Jax knew it, but it wouldn’t stop him from trying. Every boy felt that way around Liz.

  She turned to him. “You think it’ll work this time?”

  He nodded, soaking in her attention. “Give it a try.”

  “Any language?” she asked.

  He handed her the headset and adjusted the speaker before her lips. “I vote for French.”

  “Too easy.” Then her bright blue eyes concentrated. “Eto komp’yuternyy kod budet izmenit’ mir.”

  A smooth voice spoke through the headphones, in flawless English, with a hardly noticeable delay after her words.

  “Sooo?” Jax asked.

  She jumped to her feet, flinging the headset off. “It worked!”

  “I told you.” He stood, tilted his head up to her. “That was Russian, right?”

  “Da. Does it translate anything, in any language?”

  “Not yet, but it will. Every translator before this operated on a system of rules. It came out too literal. My code is different. It thinks for itself, understands what people want to say.”

  “How’d you do it?”

  “My secret.” He grinned and bowed his head like a performer receiving applause. He wasn’t the only who had thought of using AI for translation, but he was the best at doing it. “So what should we call it?”

  “Le génie?”

  He hesitated. “Maybe something in English? More universal?”

  “I got it: Babel.”

  �
�Like that old Bible story? Isn’t that too obvious?”

  She shook her head. “It’s perfect. The myth is that God gave people a different language and they scattered. But it’s more than that. When the people were connected, they were building a tower to the heavens. Nothing could stop them.”

  “Except God. Shouldn’t we be worried?”

  She laughed. “No. We can connect people again.”

  “So…it’s our challenge to God. I like it.”

  Her eyes lit up. “This is just the beginning. We’ve got to improve the hardware. We can make the device small and easy to wear. So easy people won’t even notice it. They’ll never need to take it off. We’ll patent it. Rachel can help, and Dylan, too. I’ll handle implementation, marketing, sales…”

  Dylan. The mention of his name made Jax wince. Liz didn’t even notice. As she talked about plans to turn Babel into a product—and a company…and a revolution!—a little part of Jax withered inside. It was the little part that thought maybe, just this once, he and his invention would be enough to satisfy her. But like always, her ambitions towered over him.

  “Hey,” he interrupted. “Earlier, in Russian, what did you say?”

  She smiled, nothing more than a friend’s smile. “This computer code will change the world.”

  “I know.” His scrawny chest puffed up. “All in a day’s work. But what did you say in Russian?”

  “Just what I said: this computer code will change the world.”

  And it had, in only a few years.

  Jax hadn’t given up trying to crack Liz’s code. It became his secret quest, and the only thing that got him out of bed in the morning. So many people had pieces of her now. Her face filled magazine covers and talk shows. Her company topped the news reports, along with her fortune. The entire world had stolen his place at her side, but he was the only one who could sit beside her in front of this computer screen.

  They will never take this from me.