Paradigm 2045- Trinity's Children

by Robert W. Ross

  Omandi let out an amused sigh. “Good to know. Let me return the favor by correcting you on something.”

  “Please do.”

  Charlotte leaned toward the older man and her chains rattled as she did so. “We are not on different teams, Douglas. In fact, there is only one team, and that’s the team on which every human being plays. These stupid games, in which you and the other permanent members of the U.N. Security Council are indulging, is akin to rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic.” She narrowed her eyes, then said, “Assuming, of course, that the entire human race lived on the Titanic.”

  “Then why are you still obstructing me?” asked Ramsey.

  Omandi yanked on her chains. “I’m obstructing you?” she yelled. “For God’s sake, Douglas, you kidnapped me, one of your goons punched me in the face, then—”

  “You goaded him, and don’t tell me he was a professional who should have had better control. We both know you are uniquely skilled at pushing people’s buttons. I can feel you pushing mine right now.” Ramsey tapped at his hand terminal. Omandi’s shackles unlocked, then retracted into the table. She rubbed her wrists and looked over at him, expectantly. “It’s not too late,” he said softly. “Tell me where your team is located.”

  She laughed. “You mean they weren’t in Turkey? Gosh, I thought they’d be there for sure.”

  The Secretary inhaled deeply and said, “No, they were not in Turkey as you well know. In fact, that seems to have never been occupied at all.”

  “Imagine that,” said Charlotte.

  “If you won’t tell us where they are, will you tell them to meet with us at some neutral location? If so, I can provide you supervised access to an open terminal.”

  “Sorry, not a chance,” said Charlotte and noted how Ramsey drew his lips to a hard line. She reached over and rested her hand on his. “Douglas, I can see you are a good man, and honestly believe you are doing the right thing. However, I know, for a fact, that your current course of action will doom us all. Knowing that, how could you expect me to behave other than I am?”

  The older man pinched his nose, then shook his head. “You only know what Damien Howard told you, Charlotte. What if he was just a sociopath with advanced dementia?”

  Omandi shrugged. “Then none of us have anything to worry about. I understand you’ve been unable to freeze those trillions in assets, but neither have they been used to disrupt the global economy, assuming you still believe that was Howard’s intent.”

  “I cannot begin to fathom what his intent might have been, Charlotte. For all I know, he had no intent other than to sow chaos and ruin nine people’s lives.”

  “Only eight, including me,” corrected Charlotte, “but, if Howard was a demented sociopath who never had contact with an alien civilization, he surely wouldn’t have been able to create advanced AI generations beyond anything else seen on Earth.”

  “I never said he wasn’t a genius,” began Ramsey, “and I’m confident in my previous number. It’s nine.”

  Charlotte furrowed her brow. “Then I’m confused.” She held up a hand and ticked off fingers while saying names, “There is Misha, Damien, James, Linnea, Richard, Chao, Karishma, and me. That makes eight, not nine.”

  “Chao has a daughter,” said the secretary. “Her name is Annchi Keung. She was taken along with Chao when your little band of space-pirates boarded the Xinhua, on its way back from Luna.”

  Charlotte smirked. “Space-pirates? I bet James Branson would love to be accused of space-piracy.”

  “He’ll be accused of murder along with the rest of them” countered Ramsey. “One of the Chinese taikonauts had her head crushed-in during the attack. She’s dead.”

  Charlotte closed her eyes while picturing various scenarios. She shook her head and looked up at Ramsey. “I’m sorry, sincerely sorry. I know my crew. They would not have intentionally killed anyone if there were any other option.”

  “We have the video, Ms. Omandi, and the Chinese government has insisted Sokolov be turned over for the murder of their taikonaut.”

  Charlotte shook her head sadly, “Well then, I don’t think we have anything more to talk about, right now. Once I have the promised hand terminal, I will keep my end of the agreement.”

  “A full accounting of the Galileo’s defensive capabilities and the method your team used to escape from New Orleans, correct?” confirmed Ramsey.

  Charlotte sniffed. “Nice try, Douglas. One hand terminal I want gets you one piece of information you want. You may have either the specs on Galileo or an explanation of my team’s escape.” She leaned close, then whispered, “Of course, if you would be willing to give me a hand terminal with external access, I’m sure—”

  “Sergeant,” yelled Secretary Ramsey and the door immediately opened. “I believe Ms. Omandi is ready to return to her room.”

  Omandi stumbled into her cell. The lights reacted to her presence and clicked on. She turned to the sergeant who had pushed her and raised an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary?” she asked.

  The sergeant said nothing but slammed the door and activated four massive steel bolts that secured it to the hardened concrete frame. Charlotte turned and felt butterflies dance in her stomach as she caught sight of something reflecting light from her bed. Omandi forced herself to look nonchalant as she made her way to the other side of her cell and sat down. She casually picked up the hand terminal and gave it a tap. Instantly, the device lit up and displayed a message.

  Warning: This device is property of the United States government. It is currently operating in guest-restricted mode with only limited local network access. Any attempt to modify or circumvent established security profiles will result in a criminal referral and immediate disciplinary action.

  Charlotte chuckled darkly and said, “Well, I better be careful or I could land myself in a prison cell.” She glanced up at the glowing blue sphere that served as the cell’s only monitoring device, gave a thumb’s up sign, then said, “Fair is fair. I’ll transmit the requested information as soon as you let me know which question you would like answered.”

  As if in response, another dialogue box appeared on the terminal screen. Omandi nodded and began dictating her understanding of how Karishma had created a singularity gate between Carpenter’s New Orleans office and Ice Station Zebra. She was careful to omit details of both her chief engineer and the station itself, but otherwise provided an honest accounting of the event.

  After about half an hour, she scrolled through the transcribed text, made a few grammatical corrections, and tapped the submit button. Her hand terminal gave a pleasant chime of acknowledgement, then a new dialogue box appeared.

  Welcome Charlotte Omandi, you have been granted limited guest access, what would you like to do?

  Charlotte swiped away the dialogue box and looked at her available options. It didn’t take long. Mail, Media, Calendar, and News, she said to herself. She tapped the Mail icon and a familiar interface filled the screen. Before she could do anything else, a new dialogue box appeared. Guest access mail is limited to the following recipients: 1) Douglas Ramsey. She sighed. There was no two.

  Charlotte swiped back and tapped the calendar icon. She felt a strange combination of fear and nausea as her eyes took in the bold text at the top of the screen. July 7, 2045. Nine days, she thought. Dear God in heaven, we have nine fucking days, then it’s game over.

  Omandi swiped again, took a breath, and tapped the Media icon. The screen filled with numerous options. She tapped, Movies, 1980s, and Sci-fi. She scrolled down through the available movies and silently sucked in a breath as her eyes focused on the last title in the list. She tapped it, then swiped in the direction of her cell’s display screen. A few seconds later, the logos for United Artists and Sherwood Productions flashed across the screen. Charlotte casually bent her lone pillow in half and positioned it at the head of her bed and against the cement wall. She kicked off her shoes and lay down with her hands interlaced behind her head.

&n
bsp; Omandi watched as two men held up security badges to what initially looked like a mirror, but turned out to be one-way glass. On the other side, a third man picked up a wired telephone and said, “Replacement team’s here, sir.”

  A few seconds later, the movie credits began to roll. Now, Charlotte thought, let’s see if I’m as clever as everyone seems to think I am.

  Chapter 36

  The Daemon's Dance

  Chao didn’t even try to disguise his surprise as he took several steps closer to the display screen. The daemon’s eyes tracked him unnervingly. Keung turned to Damien and asked, “What is it?” The android didn’t answer but, instead, made a why-don’t-you-ask-it gesture toward the daemon.

  Chao frowned but turned to face the display. “What are you?” he asked.

  “Greetings, Commander Keung. I am a dynamically adjusting amalgam of globally distributed scripting algorithms, or daemons. I was designed by Doctor Damien Howard to support his efforts in avoiding a human-centered extinction event.”

  Chao stared at the screen for several beats as the implication of what he’d just been told flashed through his awareness. He closed his eyes a moment, then asked, “Who is your primary user and what are your governing constraints?”

  “My primary user is Charlotte Omandi. All active commands must be issued by Charlotte Omandi, but I may accept interrogatories from any of her crew. I will execute any and all commands by Charlotte Omandi unless they conflict with either extinction avoidance or any Howard-Prime trigger-locked events.”

  Chao nodded to himself, then said, “You have been taking questions from me. How do you know I am a member of this crew?”

  The daemon’s face broke apart once, then reformed, and said, “You are serving among the established members of Charlotte Omandi’s crew. My analysis of recent voice patterns indicates her crew demonstrates significant deference toward you and—”

  Damien stepped up beside Keung and said, “Daemon, Captain Omandi made it clear you were not permitted to listen to crew conversations unless specifically directed.”

  “I have not listened, Lt. Smith, I have analyzed voice patterns based on proximity but without context. I do not know the substance of the crew’s recent conversations, but do continually monitor for distress.” The daemon turned its crimson eyes back toward Chao. “Have I erred? Are you not a member of this crew?”

  Chao felt tension descend on the small assemblage but did not turn from the display. He assessed dozens of scenarios, based on different responses, then said, “You have not erred. I am a member of this crew.”

  The daemon nodded, then its eyes swept the room. “Where is Charlotte Omandi?”

  “She is not here,” said Damien, “but I need you to assist Commander Keung with something that is critical to avoiding the extinction scenario mentioned earlier.”

  “I can only accept interrogatories from those who are not Charlotte Omandi. Where is Charlotte Omandi?”

  Damien pursed his lips a second, then said, “She is unavailable right now, and—”

  “She has been abducted by hostile forces and we need to affect her release,” interrupted Keung.

  The daemon’s face exploded into tiny motes of geometric figures that expanded and contracted in rapid succession. The screen went blank for several seconds and then lit up with a passive rotating Howard Technologies logo.

  “That went well,” said James.

  “Why did you do that?” asked Damien.

  Keung looked at the android. “It will only take commands from Omandi. Omandi is not here to issue it commands. Without Omandi, its mission will fail, but its prime directive is to not fail. I gave the daemon an equation to solve, let’s give it a minute.”

  “Uh,” began Linnea, “did you guys have the movie 2001, A Space Odyssey in your cloud libraries?”

  All heads nodded. Misha grumbled, “Yeah, and Commander Chao there might just have turned our previously helpful, if sociopathic, daemon into a HAL 9000 homicidal nut job.”

  Chao smiled at the security officer, “You really are quite amusing, Lieutenant.”

  “Thanks,” she said dryly.

  “I think he was being sarcastic,” offered Annchi.

  “Thanks,” said Misha again, “I know.”

  Linnea pointed to the display. “Come on everyone, please stop fighting in front of the daemon.”

  All eyes turned toward the illuminated screen where the face of Howard’s daemon had reconstituted itself. “You must free Charlotte Omandi. I estimate a less than ten percent chance of success if she remains in United Nations custody.”

  “Hey,” began Misha, “how do you know she’s with the U.N.?”

  “I have reviewed all available information of her abduction, including the footage captured by Galileo in New Orleans. I have a high degree of confidence that Charlotte Omandi is being held by the United States government in coordination with the U.N. Security Council.”

  “That was my assessment as well,” said Chao, “which means there are a limited number of sites where she might be incarcerated. Unfortunately, any location designated for high-value detainees will be hardened against even the most aggressive cyber attacks.”

  “Why do I get the sense that you know this from personal experience?” asked Misha.

  “Because you are good at what you do,” said Chao, in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Uh, thanks,” said Sokolov, then shot Linnea a confirming glance.

  The telepath gave a slight nod of affirmation when the daemon said, “Commander Keung, I do not have access to a list of potential detention sites. Can you provide such a list or where one can be procured?”

  Chao furrowed his brow and said, “I don’t have a list, but know where one can be found. However, from what I recall, there are about a dozen such secured facilities. My list will not tell us which one holds the captain.”

  “That will not be a problem, Commander,” said the daemon, and Chao again felt the room’s energy shift, this time in a positive direction.

  “Explain please.”

  “Certainly. Captain Omandi established what she called an emergency flare protocol, in the event she were ever detained against her will.”

  “Can you execute that protocol?” asked Damien.

  “Of course, Lt. Smith.”

  Damien glanced around the room and saw how everyone focused on him expectantly. “Daemon,” he said, “execute emergency flare protocol.”

  The daemon’s face broke apart and reformed once, then said, “I am sorry, Lieutenant, you do not have sufficient command privileges for me to execute that protocol.”

  “Perfect,” began Misha, “apparently our captain chose this particular time to make her first colossal fuck-up.”

  “What’d she do?” asked James, clearly confused.

  Misha sighed. “The otherwise brilliant Omandi created a come-save-my-ass protocol then forgot to lift the requirement that she has to be the one to make the fucking daemon dance.”

  “From what I’ve learned of Charlotte, I find that very hard to believe,” said Chao. He faced the daemon and asked, “Why doesn’t Damien have sufficient privileges to authorize the protocol?”

  “Lt. Smith is not the first officer,” said the daemon.

  “He is acting in that capacity,” retorted Keung

  The daemon seemed to narrow its eyes at Chao, “acting is not being, Commander. Charlotte Omandi’s constraint parameters were quite clear, only the first officer may authorize her emergency flare protocol. I have confirmed that no such officer is seated. Once a first officer is seated, he or she will have full access to an array of tools, including the captain’s emergency flare protocol.”

  “That is ridiculous,” grumbled Chao, and pointed at the daemon. “By your own calculations, without Omandi our chances of—”

  “It’s not ridiculous at all, Father,” said Annchi as she stared meaningfully at Linnea. “From what I’ve been shown of Captain Omandi, it seems quite in keeping with her personality.
”

  “I have to agree,” said the telepath. “Charlotte gave us time to decide on our own. We didn’t.” Sorenson gestured to Keung, “She gave you time to step up. You didn’t. So, now she forces our hand. Either we formally seat a first officer, or we don’t get her back.” Linnea shook her head and chuckled, “Trust me people, this is very Omandi.”

  “Oh, we’re getting her back,” snarked Misha, “because once we do, I’m going to—”

  “Do what, love?” asked James. He shook his head. “You won’t do anything but what she says, and you’ll be happy doing it.” He stepped in-between Damien and Chao, then added, “Never let it be said that James Branson isn’t here to help. Since you two can’t seem to get out of your own way, I’m willing to accept the mantle of responsibility.”

  “No!” shouted everyone but Misha, who blinked for a second then said, “Oh, hell no!”

  James grinned, “Well, finally something you lot can agree on. Now, let’s just see if we can extend that a wee bit.” The pilot reached over and rested a hand on Chao’s shoulder. “I’m sorry mate, but you’ve got my vote.”

  Damien immediately said, “The Commander has mine as well.” He saw Branson’s expression, then added, “Don’t be surprised, James. I never coveted even the acting role that was foisted upon me by our captain. I have come to realize she made that decision as much to help my individual growth as for my capacity to lead. However, despite the wording of her succession plan, it was never Omandi’s intent that I be her first officer.” The android inclined his head to Keung. “You are that man, Commander.”

  “Agreed,” said Sokolov.

  Linnea inclined her head to Chao, “You’re some kind of Charlotte/Misha hybrid, what’s not to like?” She turned to Rick, “What do you think, Doc?”

  He smiled, “I think we have a unanimous decision.”

  Keung stared at the crew and doubt shadowed his face. He was about to speak when his eyes fell on Annchi. She nodded, then looked past him to the display. Chao turned and found the daemon’s eyes fixed on him.