Hawke looked away, obviously conflicted. “I don’t know,” he said.
“Alex, who are we to make this decision for humanity?” Stoke said, beseeching his friend.
“We’re the ones with the power to make the decision,” Hawke said.
“Right. I’m just saying we should let them in on it.”
“No. Absolutely not. I’d rather be wrong than trust any of them. You get government in the middle of this one and it’s a bloody catastrophe just waiting to happen.”
“Why?”
“Come on, Stoke. They won’t be fighting over whether Perseus represents a danger to mankind’s existence, for God’s sake! Whether it’s a force for good or evil. They’ll be squabbling over who the hell controls the damn thing, assuming it’s even controllable. Count on it.”
“Yeah. Maybe that’s right,” Stoke agreed.
“Nations aren’t good in moral dilemmas. I’m with you, Alex,” Stony said. “Whatever you decide.”
“Look, here. I don’t want to make this decision alone. We’ve all heard both sides of the argument. Let’s take a vote. Raise your right hand if you believe we should destroy that magnificent machine.”
Hawke put his right hand up. Reluctantly, so did Stollenwork.
“Alex?” Stoke said. “There’s got to be some kind of emergency stop on that machine. A fail-safe button in the event of an emergency. If we could shut it down, we could buy a little time. Make a more informed decision.”
In his gut, Hawke knew Stoke might actually be right. Perhaps this was too momentous a decision for three mere warriors.
“I’ll give it some thought. If I can find the switch-we’ll see. I’ve made some tough calls, but this one’s a bitch.”
“Well, then, let’s just take the damn thing out, boss. We got enough Semtex with us to take out the whole citadel.”
“I’ll make the call, one way or the other. Stony, how long would it take you to put an underwater demolition team together, rig Semtex explosives at the base of all seven towers?”
“We can put a four-man UDT team down there immediately and blow up half the ocean floor if you want us to.”
“Is that right?” Hawke asked.
“Maybe not half the ocean, sir. But we could blast you a nice shortcut to China if you needed us to.”
Hawke laughed.
“Do it, Stony.”
“Aye-aye, sir,” Stony said. He walked a short distance away and got on the radio to the UDT men. It was a very short conversation. The SEALs had begun as navy frogmen in World War II. Blowing things up underwater was second nature to them, long ago hardwired into their brains, making this assignment a no-brainer.
“ Blackhawke, Blackhawke, do you read?” Hawke said into his own radio.
“Loud and clear, Commander Hawke.”
“Our little one-man merry-go-round, is he still zipping around my boat in orbit?”
“Aye, sir. A seagoing Energizer Bunny. Funny thing is, he keeps increasing his speed. Must be doing fifty knots in a very tight circle.”
“Laddie, see if you can raise Darius Saffari on the minisub’s radio. Tell him he’s about to receive a very personal message from Alexander Hawke. Got that? Put me through to his sub’s radio.”
“Coming up, now, sir. Roger, you have him now.”
“Darius?”
“What?” It was the reed-thin voice of a man who was slowly being driven insane inside a whirling death trap full of filth.
“My name is Hawke. I have come to seek retribution for all the innocent dead, avenge every drop of blood on your hands. Including the murder of a great good man, Dr. Waldo Cohen, among countless others.”
“Can-can you stop this-this torture?”
“Only Perseus can stop it. And I don’t think he’s in the mood for mercy at the moment.”
“I want to die.”
“I want you to die. It’s why I’m here.”
“Please.”
“It’s possible. Or I could leave you to this. Spinning into eternity.”
“No!”
“Do you remember Dr. Partridge? A former colleague at Stanford.”
“No.”
“Reign in hell. Good-bye.”
“Wait! Yes, yes, I know him. What do you want?”
“Partridge says there is a crucial AI algorithm. Known only to you. You have exactly ten seconds. Start talking, Perseus. Or I’ll leave you in this whirling purgatory forever.”
“I can’t think!”
“I suggest you try.”
“God have mercy. Allah have mercy.”
“Talk fast, you little shit. Or I’ll say good-bye.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to know, precisely, what scientific knowledge you possess that puts the ‘sapiens’ in ‘Homo sapiens’ machines?”
“And if I give it?”
“I will put you out of your misery, Darius. I swear it.”
Hawke signaled for a pen and paper as Darius spoke. He also told Laddie to begin recording the conversation as Darius gathered the last of his strength and began to reveal the secrets of the last frontier of human science before the Age of Machines.
“I’m listening,” Hawke said, pen poised above paper, as Darius, his raspy voice barely audible, began to speak.
“A-asterisk, pronounced ‘A-star.’ The computer algorithm used in pathfinding and graph traversal between nodes. It uses heuristics. Anyone can tell you as much. But you need an admissible heuristic. The heuristic ‘h’ must satisfy the additional condition h(x)‹d(x, y) + h(y) for every edge x, y of the graph where ‘d’ denotes the length of that edge, then h is called monotone, or, consistent. A-star can then be implemented and no node needs be processed more than once… God help me… then A-star is equivalent to Dijkstra’s algorithm… d(x, y): = d(x, y) — h(x) + h(y). ”
All Hawke could hear now was hoarse, labored breathing.
“Are you finished? Is that it, Darius? This would be a very bad time to lie to me.”
“Yes. You have it! Damn you to hell! God. Please. Finish. Me. Now.”
“Laddie, did you get all of that? Every second?”
“Aye, we’ve got it all, sir.”
“One more question, Darius, and I’ll end your misery. Ready?”
“Yes! Show a little mercy!”
“I want you to tell me exactly how to shut that godforsaken machine down, Darius. Where is the off switch located and how does it work?”
“There is a panel in the wall. To your immediate right as you enter the temple. There is a code pad. And three red switches just above it. Enter the code: nine-nine-nine. Three flashing numbers will illuminate. The switches must be turned to the off position in precisely that order.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“What happens?”
“Power from the plant is interrupted and an override shuts down the generators.”
Hawke folded the paper and placed it inside his breast pocket. Then he spoke into the radio again to the XO. “You have a man on the five-inch gun on the foredeck?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Tell that gunner that what’s left of the civilized world wants him to personally blow that murderous little bastard out of the water and straight to hell, affirmative?”
“That’s affirmative, sir. Blackhawke standing by.”
A moment later Hawke heard a loud explosion over the radio and Laddie’s voice saying, “I hope somebody’s warming up the virgins for him, Commander, because he’s going to arrive in paradise any second now.”
The SEALs and Red Banner commandos waiting topside aboard Cygnus saw a brilliant bright flash of red on the southern horizon followed by the distant sound of a muffled explosion.
Darius Saffari had ceased to exist.
But his secrets had not died with him.
“Perseus,” Hawke said, entering the temple alone and pausing to gaze upward at the staggering display of holographic projections and stellar machinations in the upper reaches. He had reentered the empire of the mind. With his right hand he felt for the panel in the wall. It was right where Darius had said it would be. He left it closed, quickly removing his hand.