CHAPTER EIGHT
For the first time in two and a half years, Howard Beck made plans to leave his mountain fortress and venture to the other side of the twelve-foot high brick wall that surrounded his estate. He had spent the previous night obsessing over what to bring along with him. Howard had designated a specific bathrobe for each day of the week and wore nothing else. Leaving the compound meant that he would have to wear actual clothes; Howard had no idea what to wear. He finally decided on four outfits and packed them in his bag.
“Excuse me, sir.” Hal felt he needed to interrupt his creator.
“Yes, Old Man, what is it?”
“Would you like for me alter the itinerary of our trip?”
“Why on earth would you do that? Is something wrong?” Howard anxiously asked.
“No, sir. Everything is fine.”
Howard was sort of disappointed at this. He was searching for any reason at all to skip this visit with Meredith. Hal knew he was a creature of habit and figured that an excuse not to leave was forthcoming.
Hal continued. “I noticed, sir, that you have packed four outfits for the trip.”
“Yeah, big deal,” said Howard.
“Well, sir, the reason for my query is that the itinerary you shared with me schedules us to return to the residence late tomorrow evening. I cannot ascertain why you have packed extra clothes and deduced that our trip would be extended.”
“Just being cautious, Hal, nothing more.”
“I understand, sir. My apologies for the interruption.”
Howard had actually lied to his computer. He was not being cautious, but rather trying to please his wife. Howard had figured through painstaking research what outfit his wife liked based on her mood. He had four outfits — one for happy, sad, angry, and one for downright dreadful. He would hope for the best and wear the happy outfit. If need be, he could always change.
Howard went to bed and hardly slept that night thinking about what was waiting outside of his perfect world where everything had its place and made sense. The world outside his home was falling apart. People were scared and desperate.
Howard didn’t understand why these people couldn’t just get their asses in gear and get their act together.
Howard climbed into his car and settled in for the long drive that would take them to the outskirts of western Denver. Howard had absolutely no idea how to drive. He was confident that he could easily learn how to perform the task; however, the fact that the roads were filled with people driving in ways that Howard could not control meant that Howard never bothered to learn how to drive. Hal was the perfect driver and would keep Howard perfectly safe.
Once Hal made the ten-minute drive to the front gate, he turned left on the road. Howard was ready for his morning briefing.
“What have you got for me this morning, Old Man?”
“Sir, I will continue to monitor the estate during your absence and ensure that everything is tended to.”
“I know you will, Hal, thank you.” Howard lived alone in his sprawling mansion that could easily house a dozen more residents. Every day, Hal dispatched dozens of robots around the estate to clean, perform repairs, and to tend to the landscaping of his thousand acre estate. The only other creature living in the house was his wife’s grumpy cat, Nala. Howard did not like the animal and counted on Hal to keep her alive.
Hal continued, “Sir, I have rescheduled all of your video conferences to later in the week. The only exception is Director Mills. I will wait for him to contact me so that I can reschedule the meeting.”
“Asshole’s ducking me, not surprised.” Howard did not like the report the director gave him the previous day. The Southeast Director of Beck Enterprises had reported to Howard that the offices south of Atlanta suffered minor damage from Hurricane Luther. The director thought Howard would be pleased that the office complex only suffered minor damage. Howard was in fact not pleased; he screamed at the director for almost an hour as if the man was responsible for the hurricane.
“Arson investigators in California have concluded that the wildfires are being fueled by disgruntled citizens who have petitioned the governor to remove the National Guard forces currently stationed in the major cities.”
“Wow! So the solution is to burn down half of their state?” Howard frowned in disgust.
“Not the solution I would have chosen, sir.”
“Me, neither. Continue please.”
“The next entry confuses me, sir.” Hal waited for Howard to reply.
“How so?”
“Governor Prince continues to face criticism from state representatives on how she is handling the quarantine zone. She has assured them that recovery efforts are underway and emergency crews are working around the clock to repair the damage to the state’s infrastructure.”
“What’s so confusing about that, my friend?”
“Governor Prince is lying, sir.”
This quickly caught Howard’s attention. He was always proud when Hal could examine raw data and extrapolate hypotheses on human behavior. A lying politician was nothing new, but Hal had piqued his interest. “Continue. I can’t wait to hear this.”
Hal navigated the vehicle to another road that would lead them near the outskirts of Denver. “Governor Prince has indicated that an aircraft carrier is just off the coast of Merritt Island, fifty-six miles from Orlando.”
“No aircraft carrier?”
“No sir, I have yet to track any naval vessels en route to the coast of Florida. The closest ones are the USS Enterprise and USS George Washington; both ships are now on station in the middle of the Atlantic.”
“Anyone else in range that might be en route?”
“No sir, the remaining naval assets that could respond are either in the Iranian Theater or in the Indian Ocean waiting to take their place in the Persian Gulf.”
“Malcolm is an excellent chess player. The Fifth Fleet is his queen ready to swoop into the Persian Gulf for a checkmate.”
Howard didn’t bother to ask about the Pacific. The Panama Canal would be closed to all vessels for at least another two years, most likely three. The Miraflores, one of the three locks used to transport ships in and out of the canal, had suffered massive damage due to gross negligence. Once the damage had been surveyed, the canal was closed. A complete retrofit of all three locks would be required. This did not help the American economy or its military in any way. Ships had no choice but to sail around Cape Horn at the tip of the South American continent. The detour meant another eighteen thousand miles for American ships navigating the globe.
“I will definitely be asking Malcolm about that the next time we speak.”
“I look forward to hearing the president’s answer, sir,” Hal responded.
Beck Enterprises had one of the few remaining global satellite systems. Most working satellites still in orbit were communication and GPS satellites that kept the cars on the road and kept people talking. Howard didn’t really care about recovery efforts for a hurricane that had nothing to do with him. He was more pleased that Hal had caught a politician in a bold-faced lie that he could tease Malcolm about. He was even more pleased that his A.I. was continuing to evolve at a rate faster than he had anticipated.
“What else is going on in the world, Hal?”
“Sir, I feel I should delay the morning news report to tell you that our trip to the Castle will be delayed.”
“Why?”
“Rioting in Denver will cause us to take another route.”
Howard couldn’t understand this; Hal knew that they were not to enter the city limits of Denver. “How does that affect our route?”