“That really depends on if we’re willing to suspend disbelief for a bit,” she said, tapping her finger on the report. “You’ve got to read this, Tom. It’s a Homeland Security agent report out of Montana.”
“Homeland Security?” he repeated, his interest piqued.
“You’re not going to believe it,” she finished quietly, a lopsided grin on her face.
Bolson snatched it up and leaned back, letting his eyes roam over the report. It was penned by an agent named Rick Alders, reporting on an apparent industrial/national espionage case centered in Helena, Montana. It was not the case itself that was intriguing, but the short paragraph detailing a revolutionary human direct interface to a computer, with a human having a run-in with a rogue virus they had determined to be the Horde during a test run.
“You’re kidding me,” the major said, looking up after a bit.
“About what part?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. She had had the same apparent misgivings about the story that Bolson was probably experiencing. Most of the reports they had read over the past 48 hours had come from virus and security software firms, reporting on what little the outside world knew about the new virus and wondering why it didn’t appear to be very virulent, popping up only here and there, before disappearing again. “Are you talking about the fact that a company out there has succeeded in putting a human into cyberspace?” she asked. “Or maybe you are having a hard time swallowing the fact that the test went wrong when the subject allegedly came into direct contact with our baby.”
Bolson tossed the report back on his desk. “At any given time, there’s dozens of private firms out there working on being able to get someone into cyberspace, but for someone to have actually done it?”
“Yeah, I feel the same way. It’s almost B-movie material.” She pointed to the report. “Still,” she went on, “it’s a Homeland Security report, high security and top level clearance only. Either this Alders is a crackpot, too, or he’s into something he can’t explain.”
Bolson leaned back in his chair. “Okay,” he mused thoughtfully. “Assuming that the report is true and this company—what is it, FutureTek?”
“Yes.”
“Assuming this FutureTek has managed to make this theory a reality, how does the Horde figure into it?”
“That’s one of several million dollar questions,” Martz answered. “On one hand, because of what we have done with the Horde—or rather what it has done to us—we have to suspend disbelief and accept that FutureTek does indeed possess the technology to put a person into cyberspace and they have done so.”
“Go on.”
“While everyone else thinks the Horde is just a computer virus, we know that it’s a sentient life form,” she continued. “Of that, we no longer have any doubt. It’s been living and evolving now for two years, right under our very noses, and we have irrefutable proof that it’s capable of deception. However, while we know it’s alive in a technical sense, in two years’ time, there is no telling what it has evolved into. Is it logical? Is it rational? Or maybe even pissed off and psychotic?”
“You’re talking about emotions, Dani,” he pointed out.
“It’s an active AI,” she replied. “We don’t yet know what it’s completely capable of, but we certainly can’t rule out the development of emotion.”
“Well, we do know that it’s hostile because it acts like any other virus and attacks systems and networks. That’s simply part of its programming.”
“Right. So let’s delve into the pure science fiction aspect of our little problem. What happens if the Horde comes into contact with a human psyche in cyberspace?”
Bolson couldn’t suppress the laugh. “Do you have any idea how absurd that sounds?”
Martz threw up her hands and shrugged. “No more absurd than telling someone we have developed a sentient computer program that got loose and is roaming the internet at will. Of course, we can’t forget that it took us two years to see that it was alive because it hid that from us that entire time.”
“True,” Bolson conceded, realizing that FutureTek’s unbelievable technology was no different than their own unbelievable technology.
“So in theory,” Martz went on, “what happens if a human consciousness crosses the threshold into cyberspace and comes into contact with the Horde?”
That gave Bolson pause for thought. “Well,” he finally began, leaning forward and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “How would you characterize a human psyche in cyberspace? Obviously, we can agree that he doesn’t have a physical manifestation. So he would likely resemble a program or some other line of coding,” Bolson finished.
“Meaning the Horde would likely treat the person the same way it treats actual program code.”
“Correct,” the major stated.
“So the Horde would attempt to exercise its programming on the person’s consciousness.”
“I suppose it would,” Bolson agreed. “But do we even know if the Horde is acting on its programming? Given two years and an actively-evolving artificial intelligence, it probably doesn’t even recognize any of its original programming parameters.”
“So it would be the equivalent of a free-thinking alien life form and would react to the presence of an intruder in what way?”
“If it retains anything at all of its initial programming, it would likely attempt to suppress the intruder,” he shrugged.
“Attack and neutralize.”
“Yes,” he answered. “Dani, can you imagine what that would be like?”
“No, and neither can you,” Martz stated matter-of-factly. “We’ve got a lot of questions here, Tom. Whatever truth there is to this, we need to find out and we need to find out fast.”
“Agreed,” Bolson said as he reached for his phone. “I’ll get us on the next flight to Montana.”
Chapter 17
FutureTek Headquarters, Helena, Montana: Jon Sherrard leaned back in his office chair and pressed his fists into his eyes. Four hours back on the job and he was already bone-tired. He hadn’t been sleeping well anyway and the nightmares had grown worse. He had hoped coming back to work would help him deal with things a bit better, but it had not worked out that way. Despite the legal issues with the Homeland Security and Systemtech, there was still so much work to be done. Several stacks of papers were piled on his desk—test results and technical info waiting on his review and signature—something he would have loved to have immersed himself into in the past.
But now? He didn’t feel driven for anything. His outpatient surgery was scheduled in two days, but there had been nothing new happening with him. The lesions were still on his body and didn’t seem to be healing, but no new ones had emerged. He figured his lethargy was part of that problem and try as he might, he could not force himself to jump right back into the work.
There was a soft knock at his door and, when he looked up, Drew was standing there. “How are you holding up, Jon?” he asked tentatively.
Jon managed a half-smile. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”
“Sleeping okay at night?” Drew pressed, although he acted as if there was something more he wanted to ask about.
“No,” Jon replied truthfully. “Why?”
Drew shook his head and quickly changed the subject, figuring there was no point in beating around the bush any longer with small talk. “Someone here to see you, Jon,” he said, hooking a thumb behind him in the direction of the lobby.
“Alders?” Jon guessed, figuring it was about time the federal agent came calling again, what with Bethany’s murder.
“Said he wanted to talk to you a bit,” Drew nodded. “You feel up to it?”
“I suppose,” Sherrard sighed. “What else does he want, though? I’ve already told him everything I know about Perry.”
“Yeah, that’s what I told him. But he said he had some new information he wanted to talk with you about.”
“He wouldn’t tell you what it was?”
�
��No,” Drew shook his head. “He said at this point it concerned only you.” He appeared to watch Sherrard closely, before continuing. “Anything you want to talk to me about?”
Sherrard looked up in a daze. “No,” he answered. “What are you implying, Drew?”
“I’m not implying anything, Jon,” came the reply. “But if there’s more to this than we know, you need to let us know. Remember, we’re in this together and we’ve got a lot at stake. We’re family and we’re here to help each other.”
Sherrard relaxed and waved him away. “Yeah, okay. Nothing else is going on, Drew,” he went on. “If it was, I’d tell you.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Sherrard tried to reassure him, though he wasn’t all that certain himself. “Go ahead and send Alders back. I’ll see what he has to say and I’ll let you know what’s up when he leaves.”
Drew left and, a minute later, Agent Alders stepped into Sherrard’s office. He was bearing two large Starbucks coffee cups. “Morning, Jon,” the agent said amiably, setting one cup down in front of him. “Coffee drinker?”
“Yeah,” Jon said tiredly. “Thanks.”
“It’s black with cream and sugar,” Alders said. “I don’t go for all that floofy double macchiato frappuccino espresso crap. If I wanted art, I’d go to a museum, right?”
Jon couldn’t help but chuckle, but was still on his guard. “Have a seat, Agent Alders,” he said, indicating the chair on the other side of his desk. As Alders settled into the chair, Jon went on. “Drew said you had something new you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Right to the chase,” Alders said with a smile and paused to sip his coffee before leaning forward. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you a little more about the Edwards’.”
“I told you everything I know about Perry,” Jon explained. “He was a good friend of mine, but I had absolutely no idea what he was doing and I’ll take a lie detector test if that’s what I need to do to prove it.”
Alders waved a hand in the air. “No, no,” he countered. “I already know what I need to know about you and Perry and, between me and you, I believe what you’re saying.”
“So, you’re not here to accuse me of industrial espionage and possible treason against my country?”
Now it was Alders’ turn to chuckle. “Nothing like that, Jon,” he answered easily, but then paused and looked hard at the FutureTek employee before continuing. “Actually, maybe we can talk about Bethany a little?”
The question did not catch Jon by surprise, but he was no less irritated at it, and he nearly choked on a swallow of coffee. “Bethany?” he stammered, knowing immediately how badly that probably looked to the agent. “What about her?”
“Just a question,” Alders went on, watching him closely. “Were you two close?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sherrard asked, feeling himself flush. “Perry and Beth were good friends of ours. We had them over for dinner at least once a week and she and my wife were very close.”
“And you?”
Sherrard was getting angry. Somewhere inside him, he knew that was probably not the best course of action, but he was already close to the breaking point. “Just what are you asking, sir?”
Without answering, Agent Alders reached inside his coat and pulled out a plain white envelope, which he laid down on the desk in front of Sherrard. With shaking hands, Jon reached out and took it, then opened it up. He slid half a dozen photographs out and felt himself go cold. The moment he saw the top photo, he knew what Alders was here about.
“Look,” he said softly, not bothering to look at the rest of the pictures. “This is not what you think it is. I didn’t kill Beth. I’ve already talked to the police about this and they said they would be assigning an investigator to her case.”
Alders simply looked at him, offering him an almost pitying smile. “Well, in the first place, I didn’t say anything about you killing her now, did I? In the second place, this is now a federal matter, so you’ll be talking to me about it.”
“What do you want?” Sherrard said, feeling completely beaten.
“I’m just asking about the pictures, that’s all,” Alders went on, completely in control. He reached out and spread the photos out on the desk, so that Jon could clearly see them. “I mean, if one were to look at these pictures, one might think you were a little more than just friends.”
Sherrard refused to look at the pictures. He had seen them before and it had almost cost him his marriage. It was several years back at a Christmas party and everyone had had a little too much to drink. Jon had ended up under the mistletoe with Beth and the two had exchanged a pretty passionate kiss that had ended up with his hands on her body in places they shouldn’t be. The pictures had actually been taken by Perry, who viewed the whole thing as a joke. Jen Sherrard, however, had been terribly hurt and it had taken a long time for her to forgive him, and even longer for him to forgive himself. In the end, the two of them had grown closer from the ordeal and they had repaired their relationship with Perry and Beth. But the memory of what had almost happened to his marriage would forever scar his soul. “That’s in the past,” he finally said softly.
“That’s possible,” Alders conceded. “But there’s something about old flames, you know? They don’t always go out.”
“It wasn’t a flame,” Sherrard said, working hard to keep himself under control. “I screwed up. We were drunk, it got out of hand, nothing more. But I love my wife, agent, and we put our marriage back together. All of us have put the incident well behind us.”
“Well,” Alders mused. “I’m not sure that Perry had put it completely behind him.”
“What do you mean?”
“We found these pictures in his desk along with a pair of one-way plane tickets to Switzerland for he and his wife.”
“So?” he replied. “Perry took the pictures several years ago. I’m not sure why he still has them, but they are his pictures and they aren’t illegal.”
“Yet he had them in a folder with those tickets,” Alders went on. “Those plane tickets were for next week, by the way, telling me that he had those pictures and you on his mind quite recently.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Just taking shots in the dark and seeing if I hit anything,” the agent replied, taking a sip of his coffee. “For example, let’s pretend that Perry was still pissed at you all these years later for feeling up his wife at a Christmas party. Let’s say he and his wife are planning on settling in Switzerland with their newfound wealth and he wants to take a final parting shot at you, maybe blackmailing you or something. Perhaps you get wind of it?”
“Are you saying that I killed Beth because of a stupid mistake a few years ago?” Sherrard was incredulous.
Alders offered him another smile, took a drink, and sat back in his chair. “Come on, Jon,” he said easily. “I’m not making any accusations. I’m just asking questions, tossing out possible scenarios.”
Sherrard snapped. He jumped up, slamming his hands down on his desk hard enough that his cup fell over, spilling coffee all over his paperwork. “Cut the crap, Alders!” he yelled. “I didn’t do anything to Beth! I found out about it the next morning when the cops came calling and told us.” He swept his hand sideways, sending stacks of paper flying to the floor. Leaning forward, he continued. “Yeah, Perry was a friend of mine. Yeah, he might have turned traitor and yeah, I have a problem with that. But I never, NEVER, had any problems with Beth!”
Alders never flinched. “You know, we’ve collected some DNA evidence at the murder scene, Jon,” he said easily, taking another slow sip of his coffee. “Care to help me corroborate your claim?”
“Get a warrant,” Jon spit as he walked around the desk and stalked out the door, nearly running into Kat Hale and Drew Jackson, who had heard the commotion and come running.
“What’s the problem?” Drew asked, looking at both men in surprise.
“No problem,” Agent Alders s
aid, standing up. “I was just looking for a bit of cooperation in Beth Edwards’ murder, that’s all.”
Sherrard started to say something, but Kat held up a hand to silence him. “Excuse me, but are you saying that Jon is a suspect in what happened to Beth?” she asked the agent.
“Actually, no,” Alders said, setting his half-finished cup of coffee down on the desk. “But it’s in his best interest to rule himself out as a future suspect.”
“Jon would never hurt anyone, least of all one of his friends,” she snapped.
“And you know this how, Miss Hale?”
“I know Jon as well as anyone,” she replied, her voice strained as she held back her anger. “We have been best of friends since college. All of us have.”
“And you think that alone exonerates him?”
“You are way off base here, Mister Alders,” she said. “If you aren’t taking anyone into custody, perhaps you should leave immediately.”
Alders nodded and brushed past them, stepping out into the hall before turning around. He reached into his pocket and flipped out a card, holding it out for Sherrard. The man simply glared and Kat reached out and took it instead, her look speaking volumes of how little she thought of the agent.
“Give me a call if you change your mind, Jon,” Alders said calmly. “In the meantime, I’m sure I’ll be in touch.”
With that, Alders turned and walked away.
Drew watched him go and then looked at Jon. “Anything you want to tell me?”
Sherrard almost blew up a second time, but suddenly all he could do was to throw up his hands in defeat. “I give up, Drew,” he breathed and turned to walk away.
“Where are you going?” Kat called out.
“Home,” he replied, his voice empty. “I’m going home to my wife.”
Kat watched him go, true sadness in her eyes. Drew watched him as well, carefully considering what had just happened. He liked Jon Sherrard and considered him a friend. But he would be damned if he was going to let the man screw everything up for him. He would make it a point to give Jon some time to calm down and then he would pay the man a visit. If he had to take things into his own hands, he would. It would just depend on Jon’s frame of mind when he went calling on him.
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