There were several “Hooahs,” “Hooyahs,” a “Yes, ma’am,” and a lone “Oorah” came from the one former marine, Dombrowski, far in the back. Alan knew that this group, like Bravo, as well as the alternate squad still at The Nest, were all hand-picked by Doris, Charlie and Cade. Were they ready for this, though? What were they fighting for? Part of him couldn’t grasp the mindset of a professional soldier no matter how much he wanted to. Someone tells you that guy is the enemy—to kill him—and you just pull the trigger. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to do that. He hoped…he would never be in a situation like that.

  45

  The Cove

  Doris realized Janus was drawing her people out, probably in an attempt to backtrack to her location. That was what she would do. In fact, it was exactly what she was doing. She had weighed the risk and the payoff and almost instantly decided to deploy her people to the field. She had to stop Janus, and if that failed, she would do what had to be done to ensure he never got the alien data. In the end, she would give up everything, including The Cove and her own existence, to keep it safe.

  The clock was ticking. She knew how hard her people were working to close down Janus’s operations, but it was so widespread, so many moving parts, none of them could keep up. As an artificial mind, she could multitask with precision; she could carry on a thousand individual conversations simultaneously with perfect clarity. She could see all players, all the moves, and yes, even some of the endgame, yet Rearden, almost by magic, seemed to uncover the biggest secret of all. The money trail, the bullseye on NYC. That was why she loved humans because their minds did not work like hers. Even minds that might be flawed, or broken like Cade’s, had a beauty, an essence and a perfectness that she would never possess. Unlike Janus, she knew that intellect is not ingenuity, nor does technical skill equal creativity. It saddened her in a way, this perceived inadequacy, but she was okay with it; Janus would never be. He would always yearn for more power, more knowledge, more…more…more.

  Unlike much of the popular fiction and movies, Doris could never see any reason why an AI would want to be human. Why would she want to integrate into an android body? Then she would be limited to where she could go, what she could see and do. Yet, that was what scared people. They even had a name for the fear, the ‘Uncanny Valley.’ It was the creepy feeling humans got when they saw something obviously artificial trying to look too human. It was repulsive on a near-primal level. Why would that be?

  Doris accessed the sub mind routine, the one that interfaced with the linguistics lab and reviewed the latest decoded portions of the alien message. The content was extensive and ominous; parts of it were still murky and needed context, perhaps some additional data yet to be decoded. But it contained what amounted to a correlation of all known developed species as compared to found intelligent species in the galaxies known to have gone extinct. The math attached to these was very simple to interpret. While a small percentage of sentient species were wiped out by natural causes such as disease, wandering asteroid and gamma-ray bursts, that accounted for less than 4%. The vast majority of the other 96% met a more catastrophic fate within a relatively short time of developing truly smart super-intelligent machines.

  While most of the surviving species listed also had some form of super AIs, they had all struggled as they crossed that threshold. The data indicated that once a species developed a truly conscious machine, its likelihood to survive into the following century was less than 50%. Doris reviewed this part in depth, realizing with growing certainty that AIs like Janus would be the norm, not the exception. This was very likely the reason this alien message had been broadcast throughout the known universe; this was a galactic warning the Dhakerri wanted all developing species to know—beware of the AI you create. The humans had referred to it as the digital singularity. She now knew they were right to be scared.

  Her own analysis of the message offered several likely paths of survival. It seemed that the half of all species that survived past their AI singularity could be broadly grouped in one of three types. One was as a subservient group, where the biological beings were considered inferior to the machines. Those cultures, by and large, seemed to be on a steady decline and eventually would probably also perish. A second group, which seemed to be a far larger percentage, assimilated the new technology. They enhanced their biological systems with technology. These integrated parts augmented their existing systems in various ways, but inevitably, the merger of both produced a culture that adapted well to multiple environments and changing conditions.

  Doris didn’t think humans would take well to that possibility. Then again, there was the rise of prosthetics, some of which her own labs had developed. Pacemakers to keep hearts pumping that should have stopped long ago. Miniature filtering systems to block blood clots from causing strokes. On and on the examples kept occurring to her where humans had readily accepted these advancements. Even something as basic as corrective eyewear could be considered as using advanced technology to enhance one’s existence. As much as humans wanted to think of themselves as independent, she could begin to see how they could slide down that slope to fall into this second group.

  The final group was the most difficult to categorize as the aliens had given examples rather than a blanket taxonomy. To Doris’s interpretation of the data, though, in this group, the biologicals successfully remain separate from the artificial creations. Rarely did it indicate that this was a peaceful coexistence. These worlds were plagued by wars between the groups, and in many cases, one side or the other would simply leave or be forced to leave their home planet entirely.

  There was a narrow segment of this final group that found a peaceful way not just to coexist, but to thrive. She had a hard time determining if the Dhakerri could be classed as such, but she thought it likely. How a species could achieve this equilibrium was unclear. Where would humanity fall? So far, only two artificial beings to reach what could be called a conscious state had evolved, and one seemed intent on wiping out the other, as well as all other intelligent life.

  The entire human existence might not even register as intelligence on a galactic scale. Humans had barely made it out of the primordial soup before they began building weapons and machines to wipe each other out. Perhaps one day, another species would come to Earth, separate the rock from the ruins and find some reason to think an intelligent species did possibly exist here once. Would they wonder what had happened or simply assume that species hadn’t been prepared for the next step?

  What is the next step? Doris wondered. Assuming they could defeat Janus, the genie was out of the bottle. There would be more, that was a certainty. That was the great truism of science, you couldn’t unlearn, you can’t uncreate. Once it is out there, you, as a species and a society, must be ready. Humans clearly weren’t there yet. Judging by Janus, AIs weren’t either. They would need help; perhaps the remaining message contained more that might guide them safely through all of this.

  46

  Maryland

  Cade surveyed the image of the forested compound from the mini-drone. “Hey, Deuce, nice work, we have visuals. Dee, are you getting feed on the compound?”

  The response was immediate and eerily human-sounding, “Of course, Nomad. I have temporarily disabled the sensor grid along the path in your visor. You are clear for the next forty-two seconds.”

  Breaking into the presidential compound at Camp David had not been part of Cade’s initial plan. To be clear, no rational human would have that as a plan. In truth, his plan was ‘only’ to head to one of the outlying guesthouses. ‘Only’ definitely being the operative word; as if any location in these two hundred acres of the most guarded and secure property in the world was anything close to being easy to access.

  While the president was onsite, his protection detail was primarily centered near the main residence, the lodge house. Today, though, with the increased threat level, the security was on even higher alert. The camp also had navy personnel and a permanent security force of marines. The fact that Cade and his team were unauthorized and likely to be shot on site was an unpleasant detail he was choosing to ignore. Cade saw his XO motion to two of his rookie team members to fall back while he sprinted across the highlighted path, stopping at the base of a massive elm tree.

  “Greg, are you certain about this?” Cade thought briefly that he had to get the kid a proper call sign. He couldn’t just be calling him by his first name in a combat environment.

  Safely hidden away, several miles from the camp, Greg acknowledged. “You’re fine, Nomad, but you need to get moving. The protection detail is on high alert but no active threats. Dee has scanned the buildings, and the director is on the second floor of that cottage. She has one security person who is about to get called to the back room to discuss a shift change transfer.” This was nothing they were doing, just part of the Secret Services standard procedures. Handoffs from field agents were never routine. Mistakes happen when routines are too planned. “Deuce, hold position. Nomad, move in five…four…”

  The grounds were covered with active and passive security sensors, security patrols, dogs, cameras. Nearly everything to prevent just what he was attempting to do. Doris, or in this case, Dee, was doing her part to make it possible. Canceling out all of the electronic surveillance, generating a high-frequency sound wave to confuse the K9 teams and monitoring all the security patrols sweeping the area. While the tactical smart goggles Cade wore were similar to what he’d used overseas, these were much more capable. Not only were the threats identified with overlays, but the safe path was also marked with translucent breadcrumbs, literally telling him where and when to step.

  At one point, he had to force himself so tightly against the trunk of an ancient tree that large black ants crawled over his lips on their way to do whatever they were doing. Greg gave him the go ahead, but his normal relaxed voice sounded a bit strained.

  “What is it, kid?”

  The response was slow and sounded uncertain, “Uh, Nomad…oh nothing, you’re fine. Dee is just picking up something in the distance. I think you should hurry.”

  Hurry? Hell, he’d been waiting on permission from the kid for every step he made. Now he took off at a flat run, flattening himself against the side of the cottage to catch his breath momentarily before slipping inside. Minutes later, Cade found himself staring down the short barrel of a compact Smith and Wesson M&P. The small, but deadly, .40 caliber handgun was held in the capable hands of Margaret Stansfield. The captain raised his hands as instructed.

  “Director, I need thirty seconds before you call your security…or pull the trigger.”

  She twisted her wrist slightly and glanced at her watch then gave a barely perceptible nod. “Captain Rearden, back from the dead. Please proceed.”

  The fact that she recognized him threw him off base momentarily, but quickly he composed his thoughts. “You are aware of the events this week. What you may be unaware of is another attack was carried out in D.C. The target was the attempted kidnapping of a scientist. Someone you know, I believe. Jim Lasko.” He noticed she flinched slightly at this news.

  “Attempted?” she said questioningly. “I take it that it failed.”

  “It did. The kidnappers, or whatever they are, sent in a team, and he managed to slip away unharmed.”

  “So, he is okay,” she said with obvious relief.

  “For now, one of our people is with him. We know this and the Boston attack are simply the first parts of a much, much bigger plan. Director, we aren’t fighting terrorists.”

  She checked her watch, “I’m not following, and you are running out of time, Captain.”

  “I believe you are,” he replied calmly. “I assume you were here to brief the president on your suspicions about Prime? Unless you are just swapping recipes for your famous pot roast.”

  Rage briefly flashed across her face. “Who are you—who are you working with?” Her voice was rising, and he heard sounds from downstairs. He felt comfortable taking out the security guard, assuming the director didn’t shoot him first, but strongly wanted to avoid a confrontation here. “Is this room clean?” he asked.

  She nodded, obviously knowing he meant clear of electronic surveillance devices.

  “Doris sent me. She told me you would understand.”

  Rage left the woman's face, and in its place, there was something more akin to exhaustion. He wondered briefly what kind of pressure she must have been working under. The CIA director lowered the gun and sat on the edge of the small, antique sofa.

  “Your life is in danger.” He realized this was not news to her, nor did it seem to frighten her.

  “Doris is certain on this? Prime is definitely the one coordinating the attacks?”

  Greg had been monitoring the conversation through the open comms channel. He cut in via Cade’s earbud to let him know that Doris wanted to speak to Margaret.

  Slowly, he retrieved the SmartCom from his pocket and set it in on the coffee table in front of her.

  “Hello, Margaret, it’s been a while.” Doris’s avatar hovered just above the phone; she spoke in a friendly tone, and the director forced a small smile. “To answer your question, it is Prime, but there is a lot more to it. More than we have time to get into just yet.” The remaining color drained from the CIA director’s face as Doris spelled it out for her. They talked for several more minutes, while Margaret became increasingly antsier.

  “You aren’t just talking about Pr…err, I mean, Janus coming after me. He is declaring war on the entire country?”

  “More like the entire human race, dear. He is just starting with the U.S.”

  “I need to brief the president. What do you have in the way of evidence?”

  Doris admitted that there wasn’t much in hard proof. The recent conversation between the two AIs in the bowels of cyberspace wouldn’t convince anyone. She laid out a basic roadmap of facts including the assassination of Quagliano, manipulation of oil markets, recent elections and numerous other misdeeds. It was thin, but certainly not insignificant.

  “Are you bringing Lasko in, Doris?”

  “I have a team working on it, they haven’t met up with them yet. Margaret, you should know— Micah is my asset with him.” Cade saw something register in the director’s eyes, but he wasn’t sure what. Fear, anger, disappointment maybe? Whatever it was, was gone as quickly as it came.

  “What is coming next?” Margaret asked with a confidence in her voice that belied her fear.

  Cade answered, “Still working on that. My gut feels like it is something targeting New York. Doris and I believe it may be an attack at the heart of our economic system.”

  “Like the stock exchange?” she asked with a tone of abject horror.

  He nodded. “I was also given a name by one of the um…players. A pretty high up guy who has been busy doing some insider trading; he said a senator was giving him the trade orders.”

  “Did he give a name? Which one?”

  “Carson from North Carolina.”

  “That slimy mother…”

  Doris interrupted her, “Margaret, any idea why Janus would want to remove you from the board?”

  The director didn’t like the analogy to gamesmanship but had to admit the concept did fit. “Jim and I were getting close—close to exposing Janus, and that would have unraveled every department, every agency that uses the Prime digital assistant.”

  “So, he wants the illusion of government control to remain…for now.”

  Margaret nodded. “That would be my guess, yes.”

  She stood, grabbing her jacket. “I have a meeting scheduled with the president. Please send me whatever you have. Captain,” she stood and shook his hand, “we both have reasons to want Carson gone. You just don’t realize it all yet.” Her eyes locked on to his with an intensity that set him back a step. “I’m impressed you got to me here, and thank you for taking the risk. My life is far less important than this information. The president is a good man, and he needs to know. You should be free to leave here once I’m gone. Give me ten minutes, then exit out the rear. Doris,” she said, looking down at the phone, “a pleasure as always. I’ll be in touch.”

  Cade waited the ten minutes plus some until Greg signaled the route was clear. So, Doris and Margaret were old friends. Definitely more there than he’d been aware of. She even knew the Micah kid, hell, he had never even met him. Doris had networked way beyond her little hideaway on the riverbank. That much was obvious.

  His earbud crackled to life. “Um, hey, Nomad?” Greg’s voice had lost a bit of its cockiness.

  “Yeah?”

  “Um, well, you may want to move it. We have something inbound…a lot of somethings.”

  “Ground or air?” Cade asked, now in a full run through the last hundred yards of trees.

  “Air. I thought it was a flock of birds, but Dee says they are drones, lots of em.”

  “Deuce, pull back. Everyone go to ground and inside the coverups,” Cade ordered. The coverups were small, light tents made of a mylar-like material that both camouflaged anything beneath it and also shielded infra-red heat signatures. He slapped at his CommDot. “Doris, get the president down in the bunker—do whatever you have to.”

  “Working on it, Nomad. They are not exactly taking my calls right now, and Margaret doesn’t have a comm,” Doris responded.

  “Yes, she does. I slipped one onto her wrist when we shook hands. Track it now, see if you can warn her.”

  “Forty seconds,” Dee said counting down.

  “Doris, do something to get their attention, anything. I can shoot my firearm, trigger a perimeter breach. Any alert and they will secure the president and whoever he’s with. I know the protocols.” Now he could begin to hear the buzzing, like a hundred angry bees about to pass overhead. Cade felt helpless, which was not something he enjoyed at all. He was about to begin shooting when Doris said, “Stay put, Nomad. I got this.”