Another idea struck her. What if other people wearing a Babel had visited his farm? She searched for any data from the exact coordinates.
A few results came, but nothing surprising. There was Owen’s first visit, then hers and Dylan’s. She scanned the words. Jake said little in the conversations, but she played the audio from their meeting anyway.
Corn silk…Hard to see the silk in your hair. It takes to you.
Liz found herself sinking into the sound of his voice. It was deep, rugged. He was bold in his own way. After a while came her question: Would it help if I came back? Give you some time to think it over?
A pause. Yes. I’d like that. Come stay for a while.
His answer made Liz feel even more confused than before. Rachel said he meant what he said. But why would he want her to come? And why did she like that?
She shook her head and studied the screen again. The last blip of data near the farm caught Liz’s attention.
Hunter Black, the chief engineer of the tower construction, had traveled from the tower toward the farm, then turned off his Babel device when he reached the fence in front of the Conrad’s farmhouse. An hour later he’d turned the device back on at the same spot.
Liz couldn’t think of any reason why Hunter would visit the farm, except maybe to try to buy the land. But then why would he turn off his device? Was he trying to keep something secret?
Too many questions. And the data, powerful as it was, did not have enough answers. She needed to talk to Katarina, to Dylan, to Hunter. Maybe she’d even pay Jake a visit. He didn’t seem to fit in her world, but Liz felt like he was the oddly shaped puzzle piece that could help her see the bigger picture.
She would be back in San Francisco soon, and she could start with her friend. Dylan was like a big brother. He would look out for her. He would have answers.
She returned to the elevator to begin the long trip home.
37
Dylan’s stomach roiled like the ocean in a storm. He’d woken up with a headache and a text from Liz. Come to my place at 9. Need to talk to you. Liz had invited him over before for breakfast, but it had been a long time and she never said things like “need to talk to you,” especially on a Saturday morning. The elevator slowed and stopped. The churning in Dylan’s belly didn’t.
He walked down the hall to her penthouse unit. He knocked on the door.
The door unlocked before he heard steps approach. Barefoot steps, he figured. When it swung open, Liz stood there in all her unadorned beauty. Purple V-neck sweater and faded pajama pants. No shoes, no makeup. Gorgeous.
“Morning, Dylan. Thanks for coming.”
“Of course,” he said, stepping inside.
She eyed him with a playful smile. “You look tired. Coffee?”
“Absolutely. It was a late night. I came as soon as I got your text.”
“Right on time.” She walked to the small kitchen and poured him a mug of coffee.
He glanced around and saw nothing unusual in the open space. It was clean and spartan and breathtaking. He walked to the glass wall overlooking San Francisco and the Bay. “You’re going to miss this view in Nebraska.”
She came to his side and handed him the mug. “Oh, I’ll have a view. Sure you don’t want to come?”
He took a sip. It was hot and black. It did not settle his stomach. “I’m not ready to leave SF.”
“The tower needs good scientists and doctors.”
“You’ll have them lining up once it’s built.”
“Hope so…” She trailed off, and he turned and met her eyes. “I bet you’re wondering why I asked you to come.”
He smiled. “You missed me?”
“You wish.” She gave his shoulder a friendly shove. “But it does kind of have something to do with that.”
“Yeah?”
She looked back out over the city. “I was talking to Owen a few days ago.”
“Always a dangerous idea,” Dylan joked, but it confirmed his fears. Owen would have told her about the video.
“He seems to always know what’s going on,” Liz said, “like how you’ve been spending time with Katarina.”
Dylan figured there was no use denying it. He sipped his coffee, then nodded.
“How much time?” she pried.
“Enough to get to know her better.”
“You like her?”
Dylan shrugged, unsure how much Liz knew. He hadn’t done anything really wrong, anyway. He just should have told Liz about Katarina earlier, and about how she wanted the data. “Maybe,” he said. “It’s no big deal.”
“Then what is it?”
He smiled, playing it cool. “She’s pretty, ambitious, kind of like you. But it’s a little too early to know where it’s headed.”
“Too early in the day, or in your relationship?”
The way she said relationship made Dylan tighten, like she’d just grabbed his heart and squeezed. Jealousy was the last thing he’d expected from Liz. She’d laughed off his subtle advances for years. He didn’t know what to say, or what to feel. He fought to keep his expression blank.
“I mean, whatever it is, good for you. Katarina is great.”
“But we’re not…”
“Seriously, it’s fine,” Liz interrupted. “We’re friends, Dylan. Always will be.”
Always friends, always out of reach—that’s just how it was with Liz, he told himself.
“Come on,” Liz motioned to a small table, “let’s sit down. I asked you to come for a different reason.”
“Yeah, what’s up?” he asked.
They sat across from each other by the window. Liz motioned to his mug. “More coffee?”
“Sure.”
She poured a refill, unusually quiet. Dylan sensed she was delaying, maybe struggling to say whatever was on her mind. He couldn’t remember her being this hesitant. His stomach started turning again.
“I have a question about a guy.” She kept her eyes on her mug, where her fingers tapped idly. “Let’s say there’s a guy who lives in the middle of nowhere, works all the time, doesn’t talk much, and is more stubborn than a rock. What do you think drives a man like that?”
“Hypothetically,” he smiled, “a farmer in Nebraska might be ignorant.”
“Let’s pretend he’s not ignorant.”
“Okay, so what’s the motor inside every man?”
She nodded.
“It’s what drives me to pull all-nighters week after week. It’s what pushes guys like Jax to try to change the world. And it’s the same in you, because at bottom gender doesn’t matter. The motor drives all us strivers: it’s pride.”
“You make that sound like a good thing.”
“It can be,” Dylan said. “But it takes many forms. It could drive men to want attention from women like you.”
“I think it’s something different here.”
“With the farmer? What, like he’s not who he says he is?”
She paused, then shook her head. She seemed disappointed. “I’ll figure it out. Just like you’ll figure Katarina out.”
Her words gripped at him again. “There are no easy answers,” he said, defensive.
“And there aren’t any easy plots,” she replied. “A real man faces his fears and calls them out, like a farmer who refuses to compromise his values.” Her gaze bore into him. “I’m worried you’ve compromised, Dylan. What are you and Katarina up to?”
“I’m not—” Dylan hesitated, caught off guard by her directness.
“You know what I’m talking about. You and Katarina have been meeting and discussing Babel’s data.” Liz’s voice went softer, sounding hurt. “And worst of all, you’ve kept all this from me.”
Dylan’s mind raced for a good answer. All he’d done was give Katarina some information about Babel and Liz…and planted a few cameras around the farmer’s house, but maybe Liz didn’t know about that. “You know what I think about the data. I wasn’t hiding anything.”
“Really?” S
he clearly didn’t believe it.
“I told you how powerful the data could be, of all the good it could do. Stopping crimes, connecting brilliant minds around the world…maybe even changing the way people speak.”
Liz’s head was shaking. “No, Jax and I made a vow when we started this company. We told our customers: the data stays locked away. We have to use it to improve the algorithm, but not even the government gets access. We want to help people communicate. If conversations don’t stay private, who would use Babel?”
“I get that.” Dylan used his most innocent, peaceful voice. “But think of all the other things people do online. They post things, they share, they visit sites they’d never reveal to their mother. And they do all that knowing this stuff won’t stay private forever. You’re sitting on a treasure, Liz. You can’t just keep it hidden.”
“I didn’t invite you here to debate this.” She rose to her feet and crossed her arms. “I invited you here to give you a chance to tell me what you’ve been hiding from me.”
Dylan stood and faced his friend. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he couldn’t tell her everything. It would only make it worse. “Look, you’re right.” He gave his voice the tone of confession. “It’s not just a relationship with Katarina.”
“So what is it?”
“We both agree that the data should be public, so we’ve talked about it. I promise it’s nothing bad. We’re just trying to prepare for it, but you’re still the boss, right?”
Liz studied him, quiet for a moment. “What do you know about Katarina?”
“The same things you do,” Dylan said. “She’s worked with you for years. She’s run your company like a professional, and she’s loyal to you.”
“Loyal while she conspires with my friend to violate my orders and make my data public?”
“That’s the problem, Liz. It’s not your data.”
A flush of red filled Liz’s face. “Then whose is it?”
“The data is everyone’s,” he said. “It’s a public good.”
“The data is off limits. From you, from Katarina, and from everyone. If you’re somehow working with her to try to make the data public, then you’re working against me.”
Dylan shuffled back, guilt and confusion surging inside him. “I just want the best for you…”
She laughed, and not in a friendly way. “You have no idea what’s best for me. But if that’s true, you should start by telling me the truth, the whole truth.”
“I’m not lying.”
She stared at him, waiting.
“I swear. I’m still on your side”
She stepped past him and pulled open the door. “I hope you’re right. Bye, Dylan.”
38
Jax met Liz at ground level, by the glass elevator shafts rising to the tower’s lobby high above. Both wore hard hats, earplugs, and heavy coats. Their breath billowed out as steam in the cold air. Metal clanged around them, machines and cranes and men at work on every side of the edifice. The frigid February morning did little to cool the fires of construction.
One part of the tower was almost finished: the unseen foundations deep underground. A solid steel door by the elevator shaft had a retina scanner by its side. It was just like the door at the Babel data center, except surrounded by a tower and thousands of workers instead of a fence and an empty desert.
Liz leaned close to the scanner. The red light blinked green and the door opened. Inside were stairs going down. The door closed smoothly behind them, sealing away the light and the noise. Hard hats and earplugs were removed and placed on the ground, bathed in the stairwell’s yellowish light.
“Where’s Hunter?” Liz asked.
“He’ll be here,” Jax said. “He’s never late.”
Liz led the way down the stairs. Jax followed, feeling uneasy. He had already given her the detailed update on the data servers, but she wanted to see them in person. And she suddenly wanted to meet with Hunter about it. Jax felt awful about hiding Hunter’s government connections, and now he worried that Liz had figured it out. He considered telling her now. He’d explain that he’d just found out about Hunter from a FireSpy contract, and that he’d wanted to tell Liz as soon as possible. He needed to ease into the revelation.
“How do you think Hunter’s doing?” he asked.
“Great.” Liz didn’t stop her descent on the stairs. They had ten floors worth to cover. “The tower is ahead of schedule. The inspectors say everything is being built perfectly to plan. The workers are happy. The show is a success. Hard to ask for much more.” Liz paused, glancing back at Jax. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason. I agree.” Jax hesitated. “Sometimes though…well, he seems a little too perfect.”
“You’re the one who suggested him.”
Jax smiled. “And I pick only the best.”
“Did you know he visited the farmer, Jacob Conrad?”
“No.” Why would Hunter visit the Conrads? Jax had felt nothing but annoyance about this farmer. It made no sense that Liz worried about him, even if he wouldn’t sell his land. It wasn’t stopping anything. “But Hunter covers all the bases. It’s probably no big deal.”
“I’ll ask him,” Liz said. “And I’m going to visit the farm again soon. There’s some…mystery to this guy, Jake.”
The way she said Jake made Jax’s skin crawl. Liz never talked about guys like that. “It’s probably better to just leave him alone,” Jax said. “Why should we care anymore?”
“I don’t know.” Liz sounded distant, almost dreamlike. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Why? Because he’s a simpleton?” Jax said, his voice toeing the line between amused and contemptuous. He’d resigned to not having Liz love him back, but if anyone was going to capture Liz’s attention, it shouldn’t be this guy.
“Ha, I doubt it.” Liz laughed off his question.
Four flights later they reached the bottom, two hundred feet underground, and Jax hadn’t said a word about Hunter Black. Owen had already warned her about Katarina. Maybe it would be better not to tell her about the CIA yet, and to let them set up a few cameras in the tower. More protection for Liz wouldn’t hurt, even if she’d never accept it.
Liz led the way down a short hallway to another locked door and retina scan. A red light turned green, and the door swung open to a small holding room with a desk. It was a security station, where a guard would be posted at all times once the data was moved down here.
Hunter Black sat alone at the station’s desk. “Hey Liz, Jax. How was the trip down?”
“Not bad,” Liz answered. “The security worked well.”
“It should. You paid for it.” Hunter stood and moved to the next door. It looked like a bank’s vault. “This is the first time we’ve activated this final step. Ready?”
Liz nodded, and she and Jax went to Hunter’s side. He pressed a button by the vault door, and a clear glass panel slid out.
“It works just like my code,” Jax said, motioning to Liz’s arm.
She held out her arm and Jax took it in his hands. It was not like their prior meetings, with Hunter looking on. The romance felt lost. But Jax followed their routine all the same. He plucked a fine, nearly invisible hair from Liz’s arm and placed it on the glass tray. A blue light began to glow from the glass, and the tray slid back inside.
No one spoke as the system processed the data stored in the hair’s DNA. Jax studied Liz, wondering if she might ask how much Hunter knew. Jax had already explained how it worked to Hunter. But Liz didn’t know that. Not yet.
The door swung open without a sound.
Hunter smiled. “Lead the way.”
Liz walked through the door into the cavernous room, Jax following close after her. He looked around in wonder at the place. The walls were hundreds of feet apart, the ceiling at least fifty feet high, with thick concrete columns extending for support. Along the floor were rows and rows of servers. Enough servers to store all of Babel’s existing data and all
that would be created. Enough data to hold every word spoken in the world.
They moved in silence down the center aisle. The hardware on either side was dark and inactive—blocks of metal and silicon that awaited life from their creators. As they advanced, Jax felt the sheer immensity of the room. The servers were over ten feet tall. Every twenty paces there was a cross-cutting aisle, revealing another line of data storage almost as far as he could see. The room had a sterile, brand-new smell.
Liz stopped when they reached the center. A large table sat as the centerpiece, with four screens facing out in different directions. A red bundle of wires, thick as an oak, descended from the ceiling to the center of the table.
“It’s even better than I imagined,” Liz said, wonder deep in her voice.
“I’ve never built anything like it,” Hunter said. “Everything is ready for activation. All you have to do is order the transfer from the current data center.”
“Not until I move to the tower, and after the IPO.” Liz ran her finger along the edge of the desk, her eyes on the red bundle of cords.
“If construction stays at this pace, you could move in three, maybe four months.”
Liz turned to Hunter. “So, June?”
He nodded. “If we get the funds to pull it off.”
“Remind me how much more you need before then?”
“We’ve spent over a billion so far. We’ll need another deposit soon to keep going, and four billion more to finish.”
Liz’s eyes closed as she breathed deeply.
Jax had seen her do it a hundred times—steadying herself before tackling a problem. He also knew what the money meant. She would have to sell her shares, as she’d known all along. But she also needed some of the cash before the IPO in June. Owen had told Jax that he thought Katarina was using this timing to plot against Liz somehow. And Jax had told Hunter.
Liz blinked open her eyes. “How soon do you need the next deposit?”
“Two weeks,” Hunter said, “three weeks max.”
“I’ll make it happen. And you’ll keep this place completely locked up?”
The Babel Tower Page 16