They were showing video of looting and fires looming over downtown areas throughout the world. Some of the scenes were at night.
“These are images of some of the looting and sporadic violence that’s unfolding worldwide. The U.S. government has declared martial law—and there’s talk that perhaps the domestic terrorists in the Midwestern United States were behind the attack. In all, the death toll may number in the tens of thousands. No one knows whether the perpetrators have been apprehended or are still at large. All that’s known is the data of thousands of public companies has been destroyed in what might have been an electromagnetic pulse weapon attack coordinated to cause maximum damage to Western economies. Security forces are securing key facilities and launching humanitarian missions at this hour. Certainly, this is the biggest shock to hit the world since 9/11, and I don’t think I’m wrong in saying that. Let’s pray that someone can help put a stop to—”
Ross clicked the STOP button. He then sent the video out to the darknet, flagged maximum priority. Then he and Philips stared into space for several moments in silence, her hand over her mouth in horror.
Philips spoke first. “They’re going to deliberately invoke the Destroy function against everyone else. And in the chaos, they’ll seize control.”
Philips just held her head in her hands.
“We can still do something, Natalie. People know about this now.” She stood up and walked through a pair of French doors to get some fresh air. There was a patio just off the bedroom on the second floor, and it overlooked the grassy plain leading up to the huge main house in the distance. It was lit up like Cape Canaveral. Baroque music could be heard coming softly from the mansion, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, and she could see shadows of party guests moving about on the terraces among ornamental lights.
Ross followed her outside, and they both stood at the railing.
Philips spoke matter-of-factly. “The Weyburn Labs team is preparing to hijack what’s left of the Daemon. They’re going to use it as a means to control people—just like Sobol did. Only this time, for their personal benefit.”
“Nat—”
“Even if we stop their plan, they’ll still seize control of the Daemon.”
The music in the background didn’t match the grimness of their predicament.
Ross gazed at the distant party. “The plutocrat’s ball.”
She nodded. “Celebrating their victory.”
Philips turned to see Ross come up alongside her and put a hand on her shoulder.
She shook her head. “I gave it to them, Jon. We cracked Sobol’s code, and I gave it to the plutocrats. The same API they’ll use as a weapon against the world. How many generations will be reduced to slavery because of me?”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I’m supposed to be able to find the real message in the noise, Jon. That was my gift.”
“You had faith in democracy, Natalie. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Tears started to roll down her face. “Not you, though. You were the smart one. You never had faith in anyone but yourself.”
He grimaced. “You know that’s not true.” He leaned against the stone wall, his back to the distant soiree. His eyes settled on her.
Philips shook her head. “It all seems so clear now. Corporate intrusion into public institutions. Corporate domination of culture and media. It happened in plain view, with us cheering on their success as if it reflected well on us. As if it was us.”
“By now millions of people know the truth. In a couple of hours, we’ll have enough people mobilized to stop them. We can still beat them, Nat.”
She laughed ruefully. “How, Jon? They own everything. They’re not a stupid computer program. They can’t be hacked. And the Daemon can be hacked.”
She felt ashamed imagining the gargantuan social, financial, and commercial networks arrayed against them. Their opponents were so numerous. So powerful. “We can’t beat them.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, the music providing a backdrop.
He sighed. “You always wanted to know my real name.”
She looked up at him in surprise.
“If you want to know my name, I’ll tell you. . . .”
“Jon, I—”
“I am Ivan Borovich. My father was Aleksey Borovich. He died on October fourth, 1993, after Boris Yeltsin dissolved our democratically elected legislature. My father went to defend it, but he was killed when tanks shelled the Russian White House and Yeltsin’s troops stormed in shooting. Media in the West called my father a ‘communist holdout.’ But he laid down his life for democracy. Not for himself—but for me, and my brothers and sisters. And his countrymen.”
Philips moved closer to him as he spoke. “Jon . . .”
“They may beat us, Natalie, but as long as there’s another generation, there will always be hope.”
She kissed him tenderly, forgetting for the moment her anguish and doubt.
Chapter 36: // Downtime
Darknet Top-rated Posts +1,695,383↑
Loki Stormbringer has been spotted in south Texas at a place called Sky Ranch—where Unnamed_1 was recently rescued. Loki has summoned nearly every AutoM8 and razorback in the central United States. That any one person has the points to do that should worry us all.
In the Sky Ranch Ops Center, Weyburn Labs network analysts calmly spoke instructions into headsets while the chief operating officer of Korr Military Solutions, General Andrew Connelly, and senior partner, Aldous Johnston, stared at a huge media wall. Television news feeds from every channel in the Western world were tiled along the wall to either side. Live spy satellite imagery from a dozen locations around the globe were tiled on screens all along the bottom row.
But the large central screen was a wonder to behold. Spread across its thirty feet was an awe-inspiring image of Earth—live high-definition video from twenty thousand miles in orbit. The day-night line cut diagonally across the eastern edge of Russia, with North America in a band of daylight that stretched to the Western seaboard of Europe. Most of the Southern Hemisphere lay in darkness. Great swaths of Europe were woven with intricate filaments of light, blending into the glow of metropolitan sprawl. Knotted clumps of light daisy-chained across the landscape. Japan glowed like a tear in a lampshade down in the Pacific.
Connelly could see the lights from the vast night-fishing fleets in the Sea of Japan. The lights of Seoul bringing back fond memories of the DMZ. Beijing, Hong Kong, and Mumbai glittered. Indonesia blazing in the South Seas. Wildfires raging in north central Australia. More traceries of light stretching along the Trans-Siberian rail line into Russia’s heartland. Natural gas burn-off smoldering in the blackness of Siberia.
Connelly felt an adrenaline surge verging on euphoria. What would Napoleon have given for the power he now held? He turned to Johnston.
Johnston nodded solemnly back.
Even he’s hushed by it. They were gods.