by Needles, Dan
Vinnie smirked. “I already am.”
40
Ed Davis marveled at the immensity of the ship as the helicopter neared the Nimitz Class Carrier, U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln. The carrier was a city unto itself, home to over six thousand sailors. At over eleven hundred feet long, two hundred and fifty feet wide, the carrier’s towers reached twenty stories above the waterline. It had its own fire department, post office, library, general store, and hospital. It even had its own newspapers, radio, and television stations.
The U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln was more than just a floating city. It was a mobile military airbase, sporting over eighty fighting aircraft and eight combat helicopters. Even by itself, the aircraft carrier was formidable. As part of the battle group, it was deadly.
The battle group included ten other ships: two cruisers, two supply/logistics ships, four destroyers, and two nuclear attack submarines. Together they formed a floating arsenal that the U.S. could park a hundred miles offshore anywhere in the world. From these international waters, the Abraham Lincoln’s fighters and bombers could reach over seventy percent of the world’s population. It was no wonder that whenever a crisis broke out, the first question any President asked was, “Where’s the nearest carrier?”
The helicopter landed and Ed stepped out onto the deck. He walked to the Commander in Chief of the Pacific fleet. From the President’s briefing, Ed knew that CINCPAC Marshal Spurrier was in his early fifties, so the Admiral’s youthful appearance surprised him. He was trim with brown, crew-cut hair, and although short at just over five feet, his confidence made up for his height. His razor-sharp blue eyes never wavered as Ed approached. The Admiral’s expression said everything. This man was not amused by his visit.
“Welcome aboard Abraham Lincoln,” the Admiral said.
Ed shook his hand. Behind them, the whine of the helicopter blades faded as its engines shut down.
“Mr. Davis, Warscape is this way.”
He followed the Admiral down a series of ladders to the Warscape compartment, deep within the bowels of the ship. Inside the cramped space, technicians tended to row after row of electronic hardware.
“This compartment contains over one thousand computers; networked together they form one of the two Warscape systems,” the Admiral said. “In short, this is Warscape’s brain. Each of these computers canvasses a particular region of Southeast Asia by communicating with sensors in the area and by using satellites. From VR, analysts verify the collected data, refine the information, and respond accordingly.”
“How big are the regions?”
“A hundred miles squared.”
“Sounds like a powerhouse!” Ed said, turning to the Admiral.
The Admiral paused and met his gaze. “Mr. Davis, we both know why you’re really here. This tour I’m giving is perfunctory. I’m not fond of Warscape and you know it. The President has sent you here to change my mind. So let us dispense with the bullshit. Okay, sir?”
Ed was taken aback. “Of course, the more candid, the better. So, tell me. Why don’t you like Warscape?”
“Sir, it’s not that I don’t like Warscape. I just don’t like how Warscape is being used as a political scape.”
“I don’t follow.”
“The President just ordered us north to an indefensible position because we have this system.”
“But the Chinese battle group will be still over two hundred miles away from the carrier!”
“Yes, but at that position the Paracel Island group will be only one hundred and fifty miles away. Being at high alert, our twelve-ship battle group is spread out, covering a wide area. Some ships are only seventy-five miles from the Paracels. One of those islands, Woody Island, has an airfield.
“Tactically, the PLA still has a hard time targeting over the horizon, aiming beyond sixty miles or so. With our F18s and our floating arsenal of SAMS, Tomahawks, and Harpoon missiles, we can easily defend against their land-based offensive. Once we move north that will change.”
Ed waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t think you should be concerned …”
“Sir, you’re new in town,” the Admiral snapped, “so let me tell you something about naval warfare. Chinese torpedo and missile technology has come a long way since the last administration and the last war. One missile, just one, will usually sink a ship.”
“I’m well aware of that, but the fact of the matter is that the PLA has no presence on Woody Island.”
“I’m afraid your intelligence is wrong, sir. Despite the treaty, the PLA has moved in a lot, and I do mean a lot of equipment, supplies, and troops to suppress a few rebellious students on Hainan Island. Some of that has found its way a hundred miles south on Woody Island.”
“Goddamn it! I just met with the Chinese foreign ministry spokesman, Shen Guofang, in person. He promised me that they had started to pull back! Are you telling me they lied again? I should have known something was up. At our meeting he tried to bribe me with a new Rolex watch.”
The Admiral raised an eyebrow. “Not a very Chinese gesture.”
He shrugged.
“Sir, what about our carrier battle group?”
“The President and his NSC decided on this course of action after consulting with the Joint Chiefs, which includes your boss. I suggest you take it up with him. So we’re moving north even though we have no clue what the Chinese are thinking or why they moved their battle group. Warscape might be great at painting blips, but it can’t get into their heads and tell us their intentions.”
“Ah, the proverbial cultural brick wall,” Ed smirked.
“That wall could be broken down by human Intel—good old-fashion low-tech spies—but we have no spies in China! The gutting of the CIA’s budget has seen to that!”
“I don’t see what any of this has to do with Warscape.”
“Mr. Assistant Secretary, guess what excuse the President used when cutting the CIA’s budget?”
Ed hesitated.
“That’s right, Warscape, and it couldn’t come at a worse time. Do you know that every time our military strength in the region has dipped, the Chinese have conquered another island?
“In 1975 the PLA stole the entire Paracel Island Group from Vietnam just after we pulled out of Vietnam, ending the Vietnam War. Then in 1994 they took Mischief Reef from the Philippines after the Philippines kicked our bases out of their turf. Just last year, when we scaled down our military presence in the region and closed our Singapore base, the Chinese invaded the Spratly Islands.
“Now the ASEAN coalition is falling apart! Don’t you think the Chinese will see this as an opportunity? They’ll go for the Spratly Islands again! I’m sure of it!”
“I understand your concern here. The I2 Corp is new, but let me assure you the Defense Intelligence Agency, which is taking over the CIA’s role, can provide you with anything …”
“Pardon my French, sir, but the DIA can’t provide me with dick. It’s barely one-fourth the size of the CIA …”
Ed flushed. The DIA was one of the departments he ran. “That may be true, but bigger government doesn’t make for better government. For all its size, the CIA did not predict the demise of the last cold war with the Soviets. They were too busy believing in the empty missile silos the Soviets dug and the plethora of faulty equipment they exposed to our satellites. In the end, we may have won the cold war, but without the CIA it might have ended sooner. The President isn’t about to allow the CIA to blow this cold war like they blew the first one!”
“You can choose to listen to that political fluff the President’s advisers are feeding you, but I’m telling you, this whole I2 Corp concept stinks! We have no intelligence, only this battle group to fight with …”
“That is simply not true. You’re forgetting about ASEAN coalition!”
The Admiral laughed bitterly. “No, I’m not, sir! I told you, ASEAN is falling apart! Out of the ten countries in ASEAN, Vietnam and the Philippians were the only ones willing to take a stand against China. And n
ow the Philippines is on the brink of a civil war and Vietnam isn’t faring much better.”
Ed started to respond, but stopped. He needed the Admiral’s support, and this was not the way to get it. Ed rubbed his brow. “I see your point.”
“It’s about time.”
Ed held up his hand. “But I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we take up this discussion later, after I see Warscape in action?”
The Admiral gave him a terse nod. Ed followed him out of the compartment, down a narrow passageway, and into a small conference compartment. They squeezed in around a table that took up most of the available space. A Nexus system was positioned at each of the seats. The Admiral motioned to Ed to put his Nexus on. They entered VR.
Ed materialized in Warscape. He levitated with the Admiral at more than one hundred feet above a real-time, three-dimensional map of the South China Sea. The domed map matched the curvature of the earth. Running from the northeast to the southeast of the map were the friendly countries: Taiwan, Philippines, Malaysia, Brunei, and Indonesia. From the northwest running to the southwest were China and its counter balance, Vietnam. The South China Sea was sandwiched between these two groups of countries and contained Hainan Island, the Paracel Islands, and the Spratly Islands.
Neon green lines crisscrossed the map, splitting it into one hundred by one hundred mile squares. Each of the squares was labeled with a number and covered with blips of light. Most of the blips were blue while a few of them were green, yellow, and red.
“What do the lights represent?” Ed asked.
“Each one shows the location of a ship, aircraft, or vehicle that we’re tracking.”
Ed was shocked. “Why are there so many?”
“They aren’t all military. The blue blips are mostly commercial barges, but we have to track them in order to distinguish them from new military sightings.” The Admiral pointed to an ocean square just south of Hainan. Unlike the rest of the map, most of the blips there were green and yellow.
The Admiral continued. “You see there, around the Paracel Islands? Those lights are military in nature. The green dots south of the Islands are us, each light representing a ship in the battle group or a plane on patrol. The yellow dots in the center of the map represent either the PLA airbase on Woody Island within the Paracel Island group, or PLA planes in the air. The last set of yellow dots to the north represents the ships in the Chinese battle group.”
Ed nodded.
Abruptly, the neon green lines around the square containing the Paracel Islands turned yellow.
“What happened?” Ed asked.
“The analysts monitoring the region have spotted something. It’s probably the Chinese, testing our defenses again. You wanted to see Warscape in action, right? Why don’t we take a look? Computer, enter region 435.” A portal appeared and they stepped through.
They appeared in a similar room, but the map beneath them had changed. It was an expanded view of the Paracel Island region, contained in the red, grid-square of the other map. Ed saw the individual blips in the three light clusters more clearly now. Six analysts hovered over the map, analyzing the situation.
“What are they doing?”
“See the pink blip?” The Admiral pointed.
Ed saw one pink and several yellow blips above Woody Island. He nodded.
“The Chinese have launched something at us. The analysts are identifying what it is. There!” A label appeared above the pink blip and it darkened to red:
Bandit 1: SU-27 Flanker
Bullseye: Lanky
Direction: 100 degrees
Range: 132 miles
Altitude: 30 angels
Speed: 600 knots
“Okay! It’s a live one,” the Admiral explained.
“Forgive me. It’s been a while since I was out in the field. Can you explain what all that jargon means?” Ed said, pointing to the label.
“It says the blip represents a Chinese fighting aircraft called the SU-27 Flanker. It’s armed and could be above this carrier in under fifteen minutes.”
“Are we in any danger?”
The Admiral laughed. “I don’t think so. They can’t make it very far with just one aircraft.” The Admiral pointed to a green blip close to the Chinese fighter. “The analyst will probably vector that guy in. He’s one of ours, a F-18X Hornet fighter aircraft. It’s been specially equipped to deal with incursions like this.”
Suddenly, a second pink light appeared, sprouting from the red blip. The pink light arced up, traveling at roughly twice the speed of the other red blip.
“Kitchen!” one of the analysts shouted.
“Christ!” the Admiral said.
“What is it?” Ed asked.
“The bastard fired a missile at us!”
41
Even with her mother’s platinum membership, the virtual Internet library seemed ordinary enough, appearing as the default configuration, a twenty-foot cube with white walls and AOL Time Warner® etched into the floor.
“This is it?” Allison asked, extending her arms and spinning. “This is the best you can do?”
“What you see isn’t important. I have my own dedicated access to all the library’s resources in here.”
Allison felt her face flush with anger. “How will that fix what you did?”
“What I did?” Jamie said, placing her hands on her virtual hips. “If you didn’t lie to your boss …”
“If you didn’t steal papers from my house,” Allison shouted, crossing her arms.
“Allison Diane Hwang, we can leave right now if you want.”
Allison bit her lip. She could not afford to push her mother right now. Swallowing her anger, she said, “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough day.”
Jamie smiled, apparently forgetting the whole argument. “Everything will be fine, dear. You will see. DARPA may spend millions on research, but we spend billions. Our business is intelligence. No one can dig up more dirt than we can. If Syzygy left a trail, I’ll find it.”
Allison nodded, feeling physically ill from stress. All her hopes lay with her deranged mother.
“Librarian, do you have access to Internet Service Provider records?” Jamie asked.
The figure of an English gentleman appeared next to them. “Some, but not all. It is private information.”
“Okay. Please search all ISP records for patrons using the alias Syzygy.”
The man winked out of existence. A moment later, he returned. “I’m sorry I could find no reference to Syzygy in the ISP records.”
“Librarian, can you search the Internet for currently logged on users?”
“Yes, but it will also be incomplete.”
“That’s fine.”
He disappeared. After a few minutes, he returned and a wall of water appeared next to him. Letters protruded in green from its surface:
User(s) with the alias Syzygy are currently logged onto:
Apostle Robotics
Create Your Own Adventure
Dog Fight Central
Fantasy Central
Ritz, The
s#@~#d$f9e*r8&
Allison smiled. There was more than one killer. If she could break the case, Davis would have to listen to her.
“Being a reporter has its perks,” her mother quipped.
“Librarian, how many people have the alias Syzygy?” Allison asked.
“One.”
Allison turned to Jamie. “How can that be? How can he be logged onto all these sites at once?”
Jamie shrugged as the librarian responded. “I have no answer to your question. Do you want me to find a reference that might help you?”
“No,” Allison said, continuing to scan the list. “That’s funny. The last entry is garbled, just like the last entry in the log. Steve told me the log was corrupted. If so, why is the name garbled here as well?”
“Librarian, what details can you give us regarding Syzygy’s connections?” Jamie asked.
“I can pr
ovide when each connection was made.”
“Great! Can you display everything for us now?” Allison said.
Apostle Robotics 06/13 @ 08:00 PST
Create Your Own Adventure 06/12 @ 15:00 PST
Dog Fight Central 06/10 @ 18:00 PST
Fantasy Central 06/11 @ 15:00 PST
Outdoor Adventures 06/12 @ Unrecorded
Ritz, The 06/09 @ 15:00 PST
s#@~#d$f9e*r8& 06/08 @ 18:00 PST
Allison could not believe it! Syzygy had been logged onto some of the sites for several days! She glanced down to the last site again. Syzygy had been logged onto it for almost a week!
Jamie spoke up. “Librarian, does the last site have another name?”
Allison glanced at her mother.
“Just a thought; it might be a real site,” Jamie said with a smile.
“Nexus Corporation,” the Librarian responded.
Allison took a step back. She looked at the date and timestamp and remembered how the hackers had vandalized the Nexus lobby. Perhaps they had hidden something, a link of some kind. She gave her mother a peck on the cheek. “Thanks! I can take it from here.”
Jamie smiled.
Pressing a button, Allison whispered, Nexus Corporation. With a hiss, a seven-foot black void appeared before her. She stepped through.
Ron had dramatically changed the lobby. It now sported the recently trendy art deco motif. The same look Davis had tried, but unlike Ed, Ron’s attempt was successful.
Tapered pillars supported a multi-domed ceiling. Looking up, she saw the dome above her painted with an intricate mural, some unfamiliar mythical scene. The walls, pillars, and floor were made of an iridescent material resembling the inside of an abalone shell. The subtle pinks and pale blues moved as she walked, swirling and blending into a rich cacophony of color. She heard a subtle baroque melody echoing off the expansive room, mixing with the sound of running water.