Avogadro Corp. s-1

by William Hertling

  “Same here,” said Gene, looking at his.

  “Me too,” reported Mike, after checking his own phone. “It’s not surprising really given that it was all running through Avogadro. In fact, maybe we should be glad, otherwise ELOPe would have been monitoring our phone conversations.”

  “Shit…” started David. He continued to fiddle with the phone, then slammed it down on the counter. “You know, it’s not just using the phone. It’s the data on there. I had Sean’s home address in my address book, from a BBQ I was invited to, back when I was hired. We could have gone straight to his house. Now I can’t even get a boot screen.”

  “Doesn’t matter, he was traveling, right?” Mike said.

  “Look, let’s just go to his house. I remember it was in the West Hills. It’s not that big of an area. If we drive around long enough, we can find it, and maybe he’s there. Or someone is there who knows where he is.”

  “We got nothing to lose, boys. I don’t mind the beer, but I do want to get to the bottom of this,” rumbled Gene.

  “Let me drive, and you navi-guess.” Mike offered.

  David nodded, tossing his keys to Mike, and they took off again.

  Two hours of exploration later, which included winding roads, switch-backs, and driving in circles in Portland’s West Hills, they finally came upon Sean’s house. In the one stroke of luck they had experienced since this all started, they found someone just coming out of the house as Mike parked the car.

  David walked up to the youthful woman. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Sean Leonov. Is he home?”

  The woman looked a little startled at being approached on the street. “No, he’s not home right now. Can I take a message?”

  David pulled out his Avogadro ID badge, which thankfully had not been confiscated by security. “I’m a coworker of Sean’s at Avogadro. We have a major emergency on a project, and we urgently need to talk to Sean.”

  “I’m a friend. I’m house sitting while Sean is away. He’s in Brooklyn, visiting his family.”

  “Do you have any contact information for Sean?”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m really not supposed to give any information out. Sean was adamant about that. Don’t you have his contact information at Avogadro?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s just…” David stalled, not sure of what to say.

  “It’s just that time is of the essence,” Mike put in, “and the matter is so sensitive that we can’t contact him by phone. Or email.” He paused, then added, “We have to talk to him in person.” Mike frowned at himself. It did all sound a little odd, even coming out of his own mouth.

  At this, she started to look a little suspiciously at them, and started to back away. “I’m sorry, if it really is urgent and an official Avogadro matter, I know they have his contact information there. Please contact his office, they’ll know what to do.”

  Still keeping her eyes on the group, she walked back into the house. “Goodbye,” she called from the door.

  “Shit, that wasn’t very productive.” Mike complained when they got back into the car.

  “The hell it wasn’t. We know he is in Brooklyn,” Gene growled.

  “What good does that do?” Mike asked, focused on the road.

  “Brooklyn has the largest immigrant population of Russians outside of Russia. If Sean went to Brooklyn, he’s almost certainly in the Brighton Beach neighborhood. He’s probably visiting his Russian parents. The Russian community is very tight-nit. On the ground, we could find them in no time.”

  Mike and David turned to stare at Gene.

  “What? I was a private detective before I joined Avogadro. I can find people. The old fashioned way. Without computers.”

  “Let’s go to New York,” David concluded.

  Chapter 12

  ARBIL, Iraq (Reuters) — Tensions Ease in Middle East After Landmark Accord

  Germany has eased tensions in the Middle East after helping leaders in the region reach a landmark accord. Part of the agreement includes an unprecedented commitment of aid from the German government in the form of technological expertise, manufacturing agreements, and healthcare.

  “We have reached the end of the era of oil” said Germany’s Chancellor Erberhardt, at a press conference in East Berlin. In recent years, the advance of renewable energy has diminished the relevance of oil. The resulting decline of the oil industry has added financial stress to an area already under the tension of cultural and religious differences.

  “Our accord transfers German technological expertise, profitable manufacturing, and the benefits of the best healthcare system in the world to the Arab nations,” Erberhardt went on to say.

  The agreement calls for disarmament and educational reform in exchange for the technology, manufacturing, and healthcare grants.

  “Germany’s history is one of transformation, and we wish to give the Arab world the support it needs to ensure a successful transformation.”

  The agreement includes components that are as disparate and comprehensive as auto manufacturing, data centers, and medical universities.

  * * *

  Avogadro Acquires Oil Tankers for Floating Data Centers

  PORTLAND, Oregon — January 12th, 2010 UTC — Avogadro Inc. today announced it is acquiring up to 100 retired oil tankers for floating data centers.

  “We are experiencing an unprecedented increase in demand for server resources, thanks to new strategic partnerships, including our Secure Government Applications Platform,” said Jake Riley, head of the OffShore Data Center project. “While we continue to maintain our traditional data centers, our primary infrastructure going forward is floating data centers. However, our barge-based approach lacks sufficient scale and flexibility. As the oil industry gears down, we can acquire retired oil tankers at favorable prices, and put them to good use.”

  For more information, please contact Avogadro at AvogadroCorp.com

  * * *

  “Thanks for driving us,” Mike said from the back seat.

  “No problem,” Christine said, behind the wheel of her Passat. “What’s your plan when you get there?”

  “Gene’s sure he can find Sean in a city of ten million people using no computers or telephones,” David said, still sounding unconvinced.

  “It’s not ten million people,” Gene explained again, exasperated. “Sean’s parents are older Russian immigrants. That makes it highly likely that they live in or know people who live in Brighton Beach. There’s seventy-thousand people that live in Brighton Beach, and only about half that many households.”

  “So you’re going to talk to thirty-five thousand people?”

  “No. Look, kid, this is basic math. Sean Leonov is the wealthiest Russian in the world, and hence will be a well known name in Russian families. If someone has met or knows anything about Sean’s parents, they’ll remember. If you use Dunbar’s number, and estimate that each person knows about one hundred and fifty people, in a population of seventy-thousand people that means that the odds are in my favor that the first person I talk to will either know Sean Leonov’s parents or know someone who does.”

  “Oh.” David became quiet, pondering the math.

  Christine laughed. David was brilliant, but it was fun to see someone outsmart him.

  * * *

  David said a hurried goodbye to Christine, while Mike and Gene waited. She looked worried, and David pushed a lock of hair out of her face.

  “Be careful,” she said, hugging herself.

  “Don’t worry, hon, we’ll be fine.”

  “I wish I could call you.”

  “You know we can’t. We just can’t take any chances of being tracked.”

  “I know. Just go.”

  They kissed quickly, then David grabbed his suitcase and walked toward the terminal. He looked backwards once, and saw Christine watching him with a sad face. David took a deep breath and rejoined Mike and Gene.

  Even though they couldn’t imagine how ELOPe could track passenger flight informatio
n or credit card transactions, they talked it over the day before, and decided to err on the side of caution. They flew into Washington, D.C.’s Dulles airport, figuring that a flight into Dulles could not easily be connected to their real destination of Brooklyn, NY. Gene had wanted to take the even more drastic measure of driving across the country, but David and Mike convinced him that they didn’t have the time to waste.

  Hours later, glad to be out of the plane, David waited in line with Gene for a rental car at the Dulles airport feeling out of sorts. David normally carefully planned everything in his life. Now he was on the opposite side of the country after a spontaneous flight, getting ready to drive to New York. He had never felt so adrift in his life. He thought back to last night, Christine holding him in her arms.

  Mike rejoined them, carrying coffees on a tray and the New York Times, interrupting David’s introspection. “Guys, you are never going to believe this!”

  “They still print paper newspapers?” David said sarcastically. “You’re right, I don’t believe it.”

  “Be nice, kid,“ Gene said. “If they didn’t, we wouldn’t have any news at all right now.”

  Mike just ignored David’s comments and went on. “You have to read these stories. On page one, the lead story is about how Germany has suddenly changed their international policy. When was the last time Germany involved itself in international affairs?”

  David shook his head. “I don’t know, when?”

  “Never. That’s when. Not since World War II. Now, out of the blue, they’re negotiating a disarmament and peace treaty in the Arab world. And they apparently traded away the sum total of their intellectual property to get it. Then on page two, there’s a story about how Germany just adopted Avogadro’s AvoMail. How can no one connect the dots with these two stories side by side?”

  David and Gene stared at Mike and the paper, their faces a mixture of fatigue, astonishment, and disbelief. “I just don’t know whether to react with alarm or resignation at this point,” David finally replied.

  “Not only that, but it looks like we moved on past floating barges for our offshore data centers,” Mike said, moving onto another page two story. “There’s a sidebar article on Avogadro, saying that in order to support the new secure government cloud services, Avogadro is purchasing a fleet of twenty recently retired oil tankers to use as the floating bases for our new offshore data centers.”

  “Great, the bastard will be mobile now,” Gene got out in his usual growl. “Smarter than us, distributed, in control of the communication system, invisible, and mobile. Wars have been lost with fewer disadvantages than this.”

  After they paid for and finally obtained the rental car, Gene drove the four hours north to New York City. They were mostly silent. Nobody was in the mood for small talk. Once in the New York area, Gene headed to Brighton Beach in Brooklyn. There, he dropped David and Mike off at their hotel.

  “Let me do this by myself, guys. I’ve never done detective work with partners, and the three of us will make folks nervous. I’ll meet you tonight at the hotel.”

  David and Mike watched Gene drive off. They were travel-weary but nervous, and decided to get a drink at a bar across the street. The bar looked like the neighborhood watering hole, friendly but plain. David ordered two whiskeys.

  “What do you think is going to happen?” David asked, hunched over his drink, staring into the wood bar. “Is it going to be like the Terminator movies? Or The Matrix?”

  “I don’t know, David.” Mike shook his head. “I know most of science fiction does deal with artificial run amok, but then there’s also been plenty that’s been written about how artificial intelligence and humankind would have cooperative relationships.”

  “Really, like what?” David asked, turning to look at him.

  “Well, nothing is coming to mind right now.” Mike paused. “I was just thinking about how they turned the earth into pure computronium in one book. The humans had to move out to Jupiter or be assimilated into computing matter.”

  “Jesus, I thought you were supposed to be the optimist.”

  Mike shrugged.

  “I always thought that an A.I. would be more, well, human,” David started. “That it would be something we could relate to. This thing, whatever it is, it’s more like an insect in its intelligence. It does things to promote its own survival, very sophisticated things, but we can’t talk to it or understand how it reasons. We can’t have a conversation about what constitutes good behavior, or a conversation about how we can collaborate together.”

  They both mused on that for a moment.

  “Remember Isaac Asimov’s Three Rules of Robotics?” Mike asked. “Asimov thought we would give robots immutable rules to safeguard human life. He assumed that creating those robots would be a deliberate, conscious act. We never thought we were creating an A.I., so we never thought through the implications.”

  “Yeah, in hindsight, giving an expert algorithm unfettered access to and control over the single most used email system in world does seem to have some risks,” David said wryly.

  The two of them made their way back to the hotel room around eleven. They had decided to pay cash for everything in Brooklyn to avoid any credit card trail pointing to their presence there. Their cash on hand was limited, so the three collaborators shared one hotel room. Just after one in the morning, a tired Gene Keyes showed up at the hotel room.

  “Anything?” David asked.

  “Yes, I’ve got some leads. Please, let’s talk in the morning.” With no more words than that, Gene laid down on the bed, put the pillow over his head, and said no more.

  After a glance at each other, David and Mike decided to turn in too.

  * * *

  David hurried down the hallway and opened the first door, only to find a closet. He walked a little further, opened another door, and found another closet. Behind him, he heard the sound of a machine. He picked up his pace, and ran, opening one door after another. Closet, closet, closet. Where was his office? The sound of the machine was getting closer and closer. He ran to another door and opened it. Closet. He was approaching the end of the hallway. The machine was right behind him. “Run, run, RUN!” he screamed at himself, failing to understand why he couldn’t make his feet go faster.

  David sat up suddenly, sweating, heart beating fast. In the dim light, the room seemed off, and the smells were wrong. Then he remembered he was in New York, in a hotel with Mike and Gene. He got up, quietly to not disturb the others, and went into the bathroom. Turning on the light, he stared at the dark circles under his eyes, his unnaturally pale face. It was the third time he had that nightmare.

  He wished he could say that he didn’t understand the dream, because understanding it somehow just made it worse. He was afraid of ELOPe. In the dream, David always knew that if he could just find his office, and sit in front of his computer, he’d have the power to do something. But ELOPe somehow made him powerless.

  David sat down on the toilet and lowered his forehead on the cool porcelain sink. He’d give anything to erase the last two months and do it all over. Oh god, he didn’t want to be known as the monster who unleashed ELOPe on the world. Please, please, God, let them find a way to turn it off.

  * * *

  At six o’clock the next morning, Gene yelled out “Get up. Get showered. We’ve got to go.”

  “Huh, what?” Mike replied groggily.

  “Come on, let’s go. Wake up lazy boys.” Gene sounded as chipper as could be. “We’ve got ourselves one hour to get to the King’s Plaza Diner. This is where Sean’s parents have breakfast on Saturday morning. If Sean is in town, he’ll be there with them. Go, go, go” Gene shouted the last bit like a drill sergeant.

  Twenty minutes later, showered and dressed in office clothes, they were on their way. Having learned their lesson from earlier interactions, they knew that what they had to say was hard enough for people to believe. They agreed that they needed to look as presentable and normal as possible, to lessen
the chance of being perceived as being crazy. Even Gene was clean shaven, and well dressed in a pressed suit, shirt and tie.

  After a short drive, they arrived at the King’s Plaza Diner. Across the street was the diner’s namesake, a large shopping mall known as King’s Plaza. They entered the diner, and were greeted by the hostess.

  “Three for the counter,” Gene said to the hostess. He turned and said quietly to Mike and David, “We can keep an eye on the entrance, but avoid looking like stalkers.”

  David and Mike stared with wide eyes at the gold tinted mirrors and six foot chandeliers throughout the restaurant. “This is some diner,” David commented.

  “According to the folks I talked to last night, the Kings Plaza Diner is famous among Brooklynites, and that includes the Russian population. If nothing else, they said to get a cup of coffee and a piece of cheesecake.”

  “Wow, look at these pickles,” Mike burst out, when the waitress brought an enormous silver bowl brimming with pickles of all kinds.

  “Come on guys, let’s stay focused. We are not here for the food,” David implored.

  “Hey, when in New York, do like the New Yorkers,” Gene said to David. Turning, he said to the approaching waitress, “Coffee and cheesecake for me.”

  “Sure, sweetheart.” The platinum haired waitress had a coffee pot in one hand, and started pouring coffees. She stared smiling at Gene the whole time, but somehow managed to fill each cup perfectly.

  “Coffees all around,” Mike said.

  “What’ll you kids have to eat?” She kept her eyes on Gene as she took their order.

  Mike ordered an omelet plate, while David picked a bagel with lox and cream cheese.

  After the waitress left, Mike turned to Gene. “Didn’t know you had such a way with the ladies.”

  Gene just rumbled under his breath, but the corners of his mouth turned up a little.