“Unless the decision you’re making is life or death,” Smith said.
“Yes,” he responded quietly. “Unless it’s life or death.”
“Then you’ll you help us?” Zellerbach said.
De Galdiano met his eye. “Help you do what?”
“Stop him.”
Despite everything, he seemed a little startled by the suggestion. “I’ve worked for Christian since I was in my twenties. I’d probably be in jail if it weren’t for him and he’s always been good to me and my family…”
“Look,” Smith said. “What if we’re lying to you? Hell, what if Marty has a bet with someone for another clown shoe and all this is just a big con. What’s the worst that can happen? We shut down LayerCake and everyone has to go back to using Google for a few hours. You get fired and retire on the fortune you already have in the bank.”
“And what about the best-case scenario?” Randi added. “That you save the lives of a million people.”
De Galdiano didn’t speak again for a long time. “What is it you want from me exactly?”
“Well, we have a few ideas,” Smith said. “But the truth is, you’re the expert. Is there any way to centrally deactivate every Merge in one shot?”
“No.”
“What about a virus?”
“Impossible. You can’t run so much as a single line of code on the Merge unless Christian personally approves it. And he’s not going to approve a virus.”
Depressing, but not unexpected. It was exactly what Zellerbach had told them.
“What about Dresner?” Randi said. “Can you help us get to him?”
“Personally? No. I can count the number of times I’ve met with him face-to-face on one hand — and he initiated all those meetings. We communicate entirely by email and videoconference.”
Zellerbach had called that one too, but it had been worth asking.
“So what you’re saying is that all we have to play with is LayerCake.”
De Galdiano nodded. “I have root access to that system only. And even then, only from the terminal in my office.”
Smith glanced at Zellerbach who gave a subtle thumbs-up indicating that the Spaniard’s words rang true.
“Can you take down the system from there?”
“No. It’s too diffuse. We have redundant processing centers all over the world. I set it up specifically to prevent someone from doing what you’re asking. And if you’re right about Christian watching, he would see it happening. This isn’t like pulling the plug out of your PC.”
“Okay,” Smith said. “But you have access to the algorithms that LayerCake uses to make its judgments.”
“Of course,” de Galdiano said, starting to look a bit ill as he wrapped his mind around what was happening. “I wrote them.”
“What about Dresner’s judgments?”
“Christian uses data from the core but otherwise he’s on the same system as everyone else. Obviously, it’s customized to his values just like yours is customized to yours. What are you getting at? Do you have a plan?”
“Maybe,” Smith said. “Can you get us into your office?”
“Security is heavy. That’s something else that’s always been strange. We’re not talking about the normal…What do you call them? Rent-a-cops? These are very scary men with big guns.”
“You must have people in and out of there,” Randi said. “Consultants, reporters…”
“I can get you visitor badges. But after that, I can’t guarantee anything. When I triggered the metal detector last year, I was one set of car keys away from getting a cavity search. And I run the place.”
72
The building’s lobby was far more massive than it looked from outside. Serviced by a single broad set of stairs, the sweeping glass, concrete, and steel cavern was sunk a good ten meters into the ground. An enormous chrome mobile hung from the ceiling, swaying gently over a line of metal detectors and tables that had the look of a postmodern TSA checkpoint. Security guards were scattered throughout, mostly soft-looking Spanish locals pulling an hourly wage but also three of the men de Galdiano had warned them about — foreign, muscular, and sharp-eyed as they watched the light traffic of LayerCake employees flowing in and out.
They followed de Galdiano down the stars, with Smith and Randi taking up positions to either side of Marty Zellerbach. No one seemed to have badges and Smith assumed that they were using brain wave feeds from their Merges for identification. Dresner had included that function on the military operating system but they hadn’t had time yet to delve into its obvious potential.
“I have three guests today,” de Galdiano said to a guard behind a broad desk. “None of them is using a Merge. Can I get badges?”
The man eyed them and was undoubtedly scanning their faces for an ID. LayerCake would provide him their false identities but at a very low confidence rate since those identities had only just come into existence.
Still, the normal formalities were dispensed with. The guard’s Merge uploaded their photos as well as collecting and collating the fictional information they’d planted on the web, making the customary forms and signatures redundant. In less than a minute, they had their badges.
De Galdiano went through the metal detectors first, with Randi right behind. She’d stripped herself of every piece of metaclass="underline" jewelry, belt, shoes, purse. Nevertheless, Smith tensed when she stepped through. If the alarm went off, this would be over before it even started.
But there was only the sound of the piped-in music and the conversations of the people around them. As Randi began collecting her belongings on the other side, Smith pulled his powered-down Merge from his pocket and tossed it in a bin along with his wallet. A few moments later, they were all through and stepping into the elevator.
De Galdiano used a key to access the top floor and a few seconds later the doors opened onto a sea of cubicles inhabited by young programmers wearing everything from khakis and ties to pajamas. At the back, a massive office was visible through a glass wall that ran along the top of a meter-high stainless-steel band.
The Spaniard mumbled a few greetings as they waded through the cubicles, but was visibly relieved when they got inside and closed the door behind them. The office was probably twenty meters square and looked a little like the dream bedroom of a grade-schooler. There were bicycles, vintage arcade games, and even a full-sized soccer goal full of balls. Video monitors along the ceiling, two terminals, and an enormous wet bar were the only things that hinted at adulthood.
De Galdiano went to the closest keyboard, and after he tapped in a quick command the glass wall turned smoky. Randi took a position next to it, looking out at the hazy image of the people outside.
“Can they see in as well as I can see out?”
De Galdiano shook his head. “They’re just looking into a mirror now.”
Randi pulled two guns from beneath her coat and tossed one to Smith. They were manufactured entirely from non-metal parts and worked a little like a semiautomatic flintlock rifle. A packet of gunpowder attached to a ceramic marble was projected into the back of the barrel by a carbon-fiber spring and then touched off by a spark when the trigger was pulled.
While entirely invisible to metal detectors, the design had significant drawbacks. The clip held only five rounds and the reload time hovered around fifteen minutes.
Zellerbach slipped past the Spaniard and took a seat in front of the terminal. “Can you get me in?”
De Galdiano entered his password and a graphic of a slowly spinning globe came on screen. Zellerbach pointed to the bright pinpoints of light dotted across it. “Are those the LayerCake server farms?”