Geosynchron

by David Louis Edelman

  "An insane tyrant on the one hand, a lunatic revolutionary on the other hand, and us caught in the middle," mumbled Horvil. "Wonderful."

  "Killing Brone won't help," said Natch, shaking his head.

  "Why not?" said Gonerev.

  "That's the first problem he'd solve. He knows that you wouldn't hesitate to assassinate him-and even if you would, then Borda wouldn't. What's to prevent you from just raining missiles down on the Kordez Thassel Complex? MultiReal's not going to be any protection against that. No, he'll rig up Possibilities 2.0 so that if he dies, the program will instantly get released on the Data Sea. That's pretty good assassination insurance."

  "What makes you so sure?" said Chandler.

  "Because that's what I would do."

  "So we come up with some black code to incapacitate him," said Horvil. "Cut him off from the Data Sea. Quell and I ought to be able to put together something that could do the trick."

  "I can help with that too," said Frederic gruffly.

  "Yes, but there's another problem you're not considering," put in Petrucio Patel. "How are you going to actually hit him with it?"

  Horvil had no answer for this.

  "He's holed up in the Thassel Complex with forty or fifty of his devotees. He's got MultiReal. Don't you remember the demo Frederic and I did where we were shooting darts at each other using MultiReal? There's no telling how long Brone could withstand an invasion of Council officers if he's dug in to his own building. If he's armed his devotees with MultiReal too, he could fend off hundreds of Council officers. Thousands, maybe."

  "Well, why can't we arm our side with it too?" asked Jara. "Magan's got no shortage of officers. We could outfit forty or fifty of them with MultiReal and send them in. We could outfit whole platoons with MultiReal."

  Petrucio shook his head vehemently. "You're overlooking something, Jara. As soon as Brone sees all those platoons headed for the Thassel Complex, he can just release Possibilities 2.0 on the Data Sea and be done with it. That defeats the whole purpose of going after him in the first place. All it takes is one person to sound the alarm, and once the alarm's been sounded we've lost."

  "I don't think Natch could give someone else access to the program without Brone knowing about it," said Horvil. "So that idea, I think, is out."

  "Wait a minute!" said Benyamin, leaning forward to interpose himself into the debate. "I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier. Natch has that backdoor code that gives him one-of-a-kind access to the MultiReal databases. When our fiefcorp was fighting over the program, Natch was able to move the databases so we couldn't find them." He turned to Natch. "Why can't you do that to Brone? Move the program somewhere else and he won't be able to launch it on the Data Sea. Problem solved." The young apprentice stretched his hands behind his head and sat back with a very self-satisfied look on his face.

  The entrepreneur shook his head. "You're forgetting about the black code Brone hit me with in Shenandoah," he said quietly.

  Benyamin was incredulous. "You mean ... it's still there?"

  Natch's uncomfortable silence and lack of a response was a sufficient answer.

  "Well ... what does it do?"

  The entrepreneur was evidently growing uneasy with this line of questioning. He turned to his old hivemate. "Horvil?"

  "After talking this over with my fellow bio/logic engineers"- Horvil clicked his tongue and pointed at Quell and Frederic Patel, who both nodded in acknowledgment-"and after consulting with a neural programming specialist"-he indicated Serr Vigal, who also nodded"we've concluded that what Brone installed in Natch is a conduit. It's like a big pipe that leads directly into your neural cortex and lets someone pump all kinds of nasty code straight into your skull. Very difficult to program, and very difficult to obtain. But that's the only way we can explain everything this black code has been able to do.

  "As long as Natch has that conduit running through him, it doesn't matter where he moves the databases. Brone will be able to access MultiReal through Natch, if that makes any sense. As long as Natch has access ... Brone has access."

  The entire concept seemed to make Benyamin's skin crawl. "Does that mean Brone's had access to the program this whole time?"

  "No, we think only since Chicago, when Natch gave him core access."

  "You gave him core access? Why the fuck would you do that?"

  The old Natch that Magan remembered would have fired back some caustic remark at the surly apprentice. But the Natch who had emerged from Chicago and 49th Heaven merely looked at Benyamin with a look of quiet consternation. "My memories of that day have been erased," he said. "But I believe I handed him access to MultiReal because he was torturing me to death."

  Silence.

  Magan studied the entrepreneur's face carefully. He had been through torture training himself during his days as a Council special operative-learning both how to take it and how to dispense it. He had never forgotten what the instructor had said in those sessions: Torture warps the mind in ways that not even biollogics can fully repair. Looking at Natch now, Magan could see that statement personified.

  Horvil clasped his hands together and stretched them up over his head, an obvious-and unsuccessful-attempt to loosen the tension in the room once again. "So the long and short of it is ... Natch and Brone both have access to MultiReal now. And neither one can lock the other out."

  "Isn't there some way to remove Brone's black code?" said Jara. "With all the brainpower in this room, surely we should be able to figure out how to do that."

  "There is a Council surgical team waiting to operate on Natch directly after the conclusion of this meeting," said Magan. "But given the circumstances ..." He let the sentence drift off unfinished.

  "That shit's been buried in Natch's OCHREs for months now," Horvil elaborated. "We should have made an all-out effort to remove it right after the demo in Andra Pradesh, but ..." But Natch was too busy running away from the Council, Horvil was too polite to say. "The code has had plenty of time to burrow in and get comfortable. It's going to be a bitch to remove now. And let's not forget that we run into the same challenge here as everywhere else. Once Brone realizes he's in imminent danger of losing his conduit ..." The engineer made a loud popping sound by flicking the side of his cheek. "He pulls the trigger and releases MultiReal onto the Data Sea."

  "Hold on," said Jara. "If this conduit lets Brone stick black code in Natch's head at will, then how do we know he's not using it to eavesdrop on us? How do we know he's not inflicting some kind of mind control on Natch?"

  "It doesn't quite work that way," said Petrucio. "I seriously doubt Brone would be able to do that."

  "But you wouldn't rule it out?"

  Petrucio stroked his mustache for a moment as he considered this question. "No, not entirely," he said with a grin.

  Frederic Patel had mostly been listening to the conversation up to this point, making the occasional grumble under his breath. But suddenly something inside him cracked. "Is this program really that important?" he shouted, smacking the table with a clenched fist. "Do we really need to work so hard to keep MultiReal intact? Just delete the fucking thing already, Natch, and let's get it over with!"

  The entrepreneur gave a knowing smile. "If it were only that easy," he said. "I've tried."

  Multiple people at the table held their breath. "And ... ?" said Frederic.

  "Quell said this program creates its own rules. He was right. As far as I can tell, MultiReal can't be disabled. And it can't be deleted. It literally just ... doesn't respond to attempts to erase it."

  Quell leaned back in his chair and let out a long, ragged breath. "And they wonder why we're skeptical of bio/logic technology," he muttered to Chandler, who responded with a smirk and a nod.

  "We continually circle back to the same problem," said Rey Gonerev, taking control of the discussion again as was her wont. "Krone insists on releasing MultiReal to the entire world, free and without encumbrances. No amount of logic or reason will convince him otherwis
e. Killing him is not an option. So unless the surgery to remove this conduit proves successful, we have to find some way to incapacitate Brone. Not only do we have to accomplish this before Len Borda grows impatient and attacks the Thassel Complex, we have to do this in a way that Brone doesn't see coming. But since Brone and his minions all have access to MultiReal, that's a next to impossible task."

  A hush fell on the room as everyone seemed to be silently contemplating the challenges ahead, what was at stake. The potential consequences of failure. Magan's thoughts drifted back to Papizon's chart and all the dead citizens piled up inside those curves above the red line.

  "I knew it would come to this," said Natch in a voice barely above a whisper.

  All turned to look at him.

  "The only way to deal with Brone is by using MultiReal," continued the entrepreneur. "And the only one who can use MultiReal without alerting Brone is me." He sounded preternaturally calm, as if this was a line of reasoning he had deduced and come to terms with a long time ago.

  "What are you suggesting?" said Rey Gonerev.

  "I'm suggesting that I'll need to go in there. Into the Kordez Thassel Complex. Give me a dartgun with the black code that Quell, Horvil, and Frederic put together. I'll go in there, find Brone, and disable him. If I catch him by surprise, I can hit him with the black code before he releases Possibilities 2.0 on the Data Sea. If not, I can still catch him in a choice cycle loop and stop him from releasing the program that way. Nobody else can do that."

  "And how do you intend to get past all of the Thasselians? With MultiReal?"

  "They were all armed and on the lookout when I was there," said Merri.

  Natch considered this for a moment. "I can't use MultiReal to get past the Thasselians," he said. "If I have to face Brone directly, choice cycle against choice cycle ... I'm going to need all my strength. I think-I think I'm going to need some help to get to him."

  "We can help you," stated Magan. "I can get you a team of Council special operatives to assist you through that building."

  "Without being spotted by any of those forty or fifty Thasselian devotees?" protested Petrucio. "It's going to have to be a pretty small team. The more people you send, the more difficult it'll be for them to usher Natch through the Complex unnoticed."

  "Then let me help," said Jara.

  Everyone at the table seemed surprised to hear the words coming from the fiefcorp master-herself included. But as all eyes turned to Jara for an explanation, her mind appeared to catch up with her mouth.

  "I'm an analyst by training," continued Jara. "Understanding people's motivations, pushing people's buttons, getting them to act how we want them to act-that's what I do. Put me and my team in a room somewhere that we can communicate with Natch and Magan's team. Give me eyes and ears on the ground. We'll find a way to get those Thasselians out of the way. We'll clear a path for Natch to get to Brone."

  "Don't leave me on the sidelines," put in Petrucio. "I want a part of this too."

  Jara nodded enthusiastically. "Good, because I could use your help."

  Khann Frejohr wasn't the only skeptical face at the table, but he was the only one who objected aloud. "How do you intend to sneak Natch past four dozen armed guards with marketing and analysis?" he said with a grimace.

  "I'm not sure," replied Jara. "But give me forty-eight hours, and I'll think of a plan. I've already got an idea. I'm just not sure the Thassel Complex is wired for it." Her voice projected an impressive amount of confidence, confidence that Magan knew was not misplaced.

  "Don't you think we'd be better off with something a little more ... concrete?" said Frejohr.

  "Probably," Jara retorted. "When you figure out a better plan, let me know." The Speaker did not appear to be pleased with this answer.

  "I trust her," said Natch.

  All eyes in the room swiveled to look at the entrepreneur in surprise, nobody more surprised than Jara.

  "Jara and I have had our differences," Natch explained with eyes downcast. "But if anyone here is capable of finding the levers to move those Thasselians, it's her. She understands human motivation. She helped me figure out how to beat Captain Bolbund in the ROD coding business. She scripted the demo I gave in Andra Pradesh that introduced MultiReal to the world. She assisted with the plan in getting our fiefcorp to number one on Primo's. She can do it."

  "Aha!" thundered Frederic Patel, leaping up from the table in sudden fury. "So you admit it! You did use some kind of underhanded scheme to push your way to the top of Primo's."

  The entrepreneur shrugged, unconcerned with Frederic's wrath. "If Magan can admit that the Council killed Marcus Surina," he said, "I can admit I connived my way to the top of Primo's."

  Magan never would have expected the murder of Marcus Surina to make an effective punchline. But given the extremes of the situation they were in, he shouldn't have been surprised to find the room indulging in sudden laughter.

  "So we have a plan for dealing with Brone and the release of Possibilities 2.0," said Quell. "Natch using MultiReal, assisted by a team of Council operatives and Jara's analysis skills. That still leaves the problem of Len Borda."

  "That's a more straightforward problem," answered Magan. "Negotiation is not an option, and the political solution has so far yielded no results. We don't have much left aside from the military option. My troops are already preparing to make a preemptive strike against the bulk of Borda's army in Melbourne, sometime in the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours. That should give us enough time to prepare an effective offense and get the mission against Brone ready at the same time."

  "What if Borda goes after MultiReal first?" said the Islander.

  "I don't think he will. He doesn't have the information about Brone that we do. And he doesn't have the ability to get past those Thasselians and take out Brone without MultiReal. He'll be a little more cautious putting together his plans."

  "Wait a second," interrupted a scowling Khann Frejohr. "You're just going to launch a full-scale attack on Melbourne, with all of the liabilities that the Blade listed earlier? A big deficit in numbers, poorer equipment, and all the rest?"

  Josiah Surina spoke. "We have already discussed plans with the lieutenant executive for a joint Islander-connectible strike against Borda."

  "Plans? What plans?"

  "I hope you'll understand," said Magan coldly, "if we choose not to divulge military strategy in an open council, Khann."

  With the change in topic to military matters, General Cheronna seemed to suddenly be paying close attention to the discussion once more. But he appeared to be more exasperated than enthusiastic. "I've told you several times," said the general, even more florid than usual, "I don't think Representative Triggendala's going to go along with this."

  "I've been talking with the old crone about it," put in Bali Chandler, casually studying his nails. "I think I've convinced her to come around."

  "Haven't you seen the protests on the street?" objected Cheronna. "The marches? The drudge rants? They're picketing down there in the City Center right now!" He pointed vehemently in the direction of the large public square. "She'll get lynched by her own constituents if she goes along with this."

  "I have to admit, Chandler," said Josiah, frowning, "that I'm not so confident in our prospects of convincing Triggendala as you are. And without her support ...

  Chandler waved both of them off. "Come on. I've been working with Trigg for ... more years than either of us would care to admit. Decades. She likes to put up a front like this so she can save face. But when your back's against the wall, Triggendala's dependable. I'm telling you, Magan, the Islanders will march with the connectibles. And as for her constituents ..." He made a wet razzing noise with his lips. "Ficklest bunch of people on Earth. Trigg's got another three years before her current term is up. They'll have forgotten all about this by then, and she knows it."

  General Cheronna seethed quietly. "I wish I had your confidence," he said.

  "Don't we all," mutter
ed Quell.

  The table settled into a vibrant silence, everyone abuzz with their own thoughts and plans. Magan Kai Lee surveyed the council he had assembled: fiefcorpers, analysts, engineers, Council officers, Islanders, and one apprehensive-looking Pharisee who had not said a single word the entire time but rather sat in his corner of the table and watched the proceedings with wide eyes.

  Then he gazed back at the mural of the Islander Band of Twelve. Somehow, after this meeting he saw them in a different light. Grumble and bicker and complain they might have done; mutter dissatisfaction and disagreement with the Luddite principles of the Free Republic behind each other's backs they most certainly did. But when it came time for action, they had set aside their disagreements and put forward a united face to the public. They had gotten the job done.

  Magan rose. "I thank you all for your time and your input," he said. "And now, I suggest you all take some rest. We've got a long forty-eight hours ahead of us."

  32

  Targeted marketing didn't get much more targeted than this. Forty-six known and suspected Thasselian devotees: some who had been sighted by Natch in the hotel in Old Chicago, some who had been identified by Merri and Petrucio, and some who had been observed loitering around the Thassel Complex in recent days.

  It felt like a final exam of Jara's skills at marketing and analysis. The process was the same. Identify the audience; develop strategies to motivate them towards a defined goal; execute the plan and track results. Except here the goal wasn't to inspire a percentage of the audience to buy a specific bio/logic program. Here the goal was to keep one hundred percent of the audience from noticing the infiltrator in their midst, thereby preventing them from sounding the alarm, thereby allowing Natch to sneak up on Brone and plug him with black code.