“Who?”
“Austin Sanders, head of their A.I. department. He has ignored my phone calls. I’m suspicious he’s hiding something from me.”
Manos stretches his neck. “Let me take care of it.”
“Okay, see what you can find, Manos. It would be great to crack the code and have more ammo against China.”
“Will do, Gareth.”
On the massage table, Manos covers himself with a towel and motions for the masseuses to leave the room. He dons a robe and walks to his secretary’s desk across the hall. “Felina, get my Chief of Staff on the line.”
She looks up at her boss. “You got it.”
Manos enters his top-floor office and sees the Manhattan skyline stretching across the glass-paned wall. Trains whizz across the city in concrete tubes. He pours himself some bourbon and glances at the holographic stock ticker.
His smartglasses ring. He places them on his face and sits at the gold-plated desk. His view shows, “Incoming call—Seth Wengardt, Chief of Staff” and he accepts the video request.
Seth appears. “Good afternoon, boss.”
“Cheers. I have an update for the Google program.”
“Listening.”
“Regarding the launch,” Manos says. “We will go live tomorrow after the President’s speech to the nation. Make sure everyone is on board.”
“Yes, sir. I briefed Google’s management team and they’re ready to execute the new platform.”
“Perfect. What about the CEO?”
“Bethany Andrews was not involved. I did not communicate with her, as you requested.”
“Great. Listen, my hunch is that she will try to block the rollout. Do everything you can to stop her.”
“Can do, sir.”
“Monitor her activity and if you see resistance, let me know immediately.”
“Absolutely. She’s on my blacklist.”
Manos stretches his arms. “Have you updated the software policy for enemies of the state?”
“Yes. China, Russia and Iran will no longer have access to Google products. They’ll be offline instantly.”
Manos sips the bourbon. “A punch in the gut. I like it! Tomorrow we get the green light. Be ready.”
“What time?”
“My guess is late morning. The President will introduce the offensive in his announcement. As soon as he finishes, you proceed with the rollout.”
“You got it, sir. We are ready.”
“Good.” Manos puts down his glass. “One other thing.”
“Sir?”
“The CIA notified me about some Chinese communications they’ve been unable to hack. Apparently, they requested work from Google but heard nothing back. They’re suspicious something’s going on.”
Seth pauses. “The CIA thinks Google is holding information from them?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s involved?”
“The head of Google’s A.I. department. His name is Austin Sanders.”
“Let me see what I can find.” Seth looks down and types on a keyboard. “I’ll scan the company’s message servers. Give me one minute.”
“Call me when you’re done.” Manos slips from his robe and puts on a pair of workout shorts and sneakers. Through his smartglasses, he clicks an icon and a floor panel retracts, revealing a treadmill. He sets its speed to “4.5” and begins a light jog.
“I found something,” Seth says.
Manos slows to a walk. “That was quick.”
“There are two sources about an encrypted radio signal. The first is a call between Austin Sanders and Gareth Allen where they set a five-day deadline for the work.”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“There’s another exchange five days later between Austin Sanders and an Anil Anaya about a transmission from Barnard’s Star.”
Manos rolls his eyes. “What does that have to do with China?”
“Apparently, Anil believes the CIA was wrong. The radio signal did not originate in New China.”
“What?”
“It appears to be from a nearby star, not from Mars.”
Manos stops walking. “A message from space?”
“Yes.”
“Have they cracked the code?”
Seth hesitates. “…apparently, it’s some sort of countdown…”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Yes. It ends tomorrow at noon.”
“What happens then?”
“I don’t know, sir. Apparently, Austin Sanders believes it’s the end times.”
Manos bursts into laughter. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” He giggles as he speaks. “Do you know what I smell, Seth?”
“Sir?”
“A massive profit.” He howls and raises his fists. “This is a huge tabloid story! The Telegraph or the Enquirer will pay top dollar for a spread like this.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it’s an easy $50 million.”
Seth’s eyes widen. “Would you like me to leak this to the press?”
Manos sobers up. “Leak? That’s sophomoric, Seth. You should know the next steps.”
“Apologies, I misspoke.”
“What are the three rules of GoldRock?”
“Make a profit. Protect our assets. Don’t hurt our employees.”
“Exactly. Money is the name of the game but brand and loyalty come first. GoldRock has integrity. We are an A+ investment firm.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“So what will you do next?”
Seth pauses and thinks. “…I’ll spin a teaser sample and send it to the major tabloids to start a bidding war.”
“Make sure to pose as a Google employee. They cannot trace any of this back to GoldRock. And remember, you can’t communicate anything to the CIA. We must protect our reputation.”
“Absolutely.”
“Start the bidding at $10 million. Talk to our marketing team and make it a juicy story.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good work, Seth, now get the job done.” Manos ends the call and laughs.
A countdown to the end times!
He yells to his assistant. “Felina, get Gareth Allen back on the line.”
“Yes, Mr. Kharon.”
The smartglasses buzz and Gareth appears on the screen. “Manos?”
“Friend, we’ve solved your Google issue, and it will only cost you $10 million for our stealth services.”
“You cracked the Chinese code? That was fast! What have you found?”
“It appears Austin Sanders decrypted the signal you sent to him. You were right. His team has kept the results from you all along.”
“Those commie bastards.”
“It gets worse. They’re about to reveal their findings to the press.”
“What does the message say?”
“I have no idea.”
Gareth grinds his teeth. “Leaking classified information… that’s treason! We will lock them up for that…”
“Give them hell, Gareth.”
“Thank you, Manos. I’ll take it from here.”
8.
BETH CLIMBS a staircase to the roof deck of her Berkeley home and steps into her helicopter. She straps herself in. “Cooper, drive me to work.”
The engine turns on and the blades start to spin. “You will arrive in fifteen minutes,” her A.I. responds.
The chopper rises above the Berkeley Hills and heads south to Mountain View. Below lie the ruins of the Bay Bridge, once the thoroughfare connecting San Francisco and Berkeley. Train tubes anchored to its steel cables ferry passengers to the downtown islands huddling in the Pacific Ocean.
“Cooper, what’s happening in the world?”
“It’s Monday, August 14, 2066. Here are today’s top stories from the Telegraph. Space Countdown - Scientists have discovered a mysterious radio signal from a nearby star. A team at Google decrypted the code and discovered that it originated in Barnard’s Star, six light-years away.”