Clearly thousands of man-hours had already been expended on this project, and everyone seemed to be busy working their portion of it.
Odin stood at the head of the table with his arms crossed. He nodded silently to her as she examined the team room.
Among the other team members it was impossible to tell who was military and who was civilian. Long hair and beards certainly didn’t indicate a civilian background, since Odin and Foxy had both.
There was a plump forty-something Asian man-Korean, she guessed-conversing with a lanky blond guy who, although boyish, was probably in his thirties. She exchanged nods with him as she laid her assigned laptop on the table and took an open seat. There was lots of room.
Glancing along the table she saw a pear-shaped African-American man in his thirties gesturing to a laptop screen, while another Asian man listened in, slighter in build and more fair-complexioned-most likely Japanese. The Japanese man gave McKinney a knowing, sympathetic nod. Two other individuals at the edge of the room-a Caucasian man and a Latina in their early twenties-were arguing about something involving radio signals. A collection of computers and signal processing equipment lined their workstation.
The last team member at the table, a sophisticated-looking African-American woman in her late twenties or early thirties, with short hair, smiled in greeting. Her eyeglasses went way beyond functional into stylish-expensive territory. “Have you had breakfast yet? There’s food just beyond the pillar.”
McKinney shook her head. “No, I’m fine, thanks. Not much of an appetite.”
A series of clocks on one wall showed the time in a dozen cities of the world. It was nearly seven A.M. local time.
“So, what is this, mission control?”
The woman nodded. “Joint operations center-the JOC. People from different disciplines and commands under Odin’s op-con.” On McKinney’s squint she added, “Sorry. Military speak. It means ‘operational control.’ He’s in charge here.”
“He made that pretty clear.”
She smiled sympathetically. “They pick assertive types to head these missions.” She reached across to extend her hand. “I’m Snowcap, team psychologist.”
McKinney shook the woman’s hand. “Surprised to see a psychologist here.”
Snowcap nodded. “These operations usually include a psyops component-managing public response to frightening news. I’ve been briefed on your situation. These things can be stressful even for trained military personnel. Let me know if you need help. Foxy mentioned you’re having trouble sleeping. I can prescribe something, if you like.”
“No. I’m good, thanks.” As McKinney settled in, she noticed a sign in large red letters painted on the wall across from her: No Mundungus This Area.
Before she could ask Snowcap about it, Odin stood and dropped a pad of paper onto the table. His voice boomed out. “All right, let’s get started.”
Everyone stopped what they were doing and focused on him. The two radio folks at the edge grabbed a seat at the main table. Behind Odin, Singleton emerged from behind a large whiteboard hung on a massive pillar of stone. He was stirring cream into his coffee as he calmly took his seat next to Odin, near the head of the table.
Odin gestured to McKinney. “As you can see, we have a new team member. Expert Six is the myrmecologist who developed the swarming algorithms we found on the Shenyang server-algorithms based on the African weaver ant, her particular field of study. Which means her work is of specific interest to the enemy. Which is no doubt why they tried to kill her thirty-six hours ago.”
Most of the team nodded at her with respect.
Singleton cleared his throat. “You realize they might simply be using her algorithms because they were readily obtainable.”
The others groaned, tossing pieces of paper in his direction.
Singleton held up his hands calmly. “I’m just saying that if they’d been able to get their hands on a more sophisticated model, they would have.”
The Korean scientist scowled. “I suppose you think they should have used your code instead.”
“I’ve looked at Six’s swarming model, and I don’t see how it would be useful in a hardware context without major modifications.”
McKinney looked across the table at him. “I didn’t write it with hardware in mind. I had no idea that it would be used in any context other than pure research.”
“Clearly. Not to mention the fact that we haven’t seen swarming behavior in these attacks. So far what we’ve seen is precision bombing of carefully selected targets. That doesn’t approximate the indiscriminate foraging of Hymenoptera.”
Odin stared at him. “Everyone on this team has expertise relevant to the mission.” He looked to McKinney but pointed at Singleton. “One is an expert on robotics and visual intelligence. More complex autonomous systems.” Then he pointed past McKinney to the Japanese man. “Expert Five, artificial intelligence.”
McKinney brightened. “I saw your flying fish swarm when I came in last night. Pretty cool.”
The man smiled. “Thanks. More of an experiment, really.”
Odin pointed to the African-American man. “Expert Four, drone design.” He crossed the table to the thin blond man. “Expert Two, aerospace and electrical engineering.” Next to him, the Korean man. “Expert Three, computer engineering.” He pointed to the woman across from McKinney. “Snowcap, our MI and psyops liaison.” Then to the two signals people. “Gumball and Leggo, signals intelligence. And of course, you know Foxy.”
Singleton immediately waded into the silence that followed, gazing across the table at McKinney. “It’s not my intention to offend you, Six, but your software isn’t exactly munitions-grade AI. I don’t want us wasting time on theoretical swarming applications.”
McKinney made a point of meeting his gaze. “I’m not offended by rational discussion. I gather we’re all here to solve this problem.”
Odin spoke to the room. “Swarming strategies have historically won sixty-one percent of all battles-and an even greater percentage in urban terrain. Think Grozny, Stalingrad, etc.”
Singleton was undeterred. “But we’re facing more sophisticated, singular weapon systems.”
“Which to me aren’t as worrisome as what might be coming.”
Singleton scoffed. “You’re not seriously suggesting we let these assassinations continue unopposed?”
“Don’t try my patience. The enemy is interested in autonomous swarming-which has the potential to transform the conduct of warfare. We will listen to what Six knows.”
Odin gestured to McKinney. “As a matter of fact, Professor, would you please come up and give the team a primer on your software model and maybe weaver ants in general?”
McKinney sighed, realizing how tired she was. But then, she’d taught many a class exhausted when she was a TA and then an associate professor. She nodded and stood, heading to the nearby whiteboard bolted to the wall-like stone pillar. It was covered with green dry-erase ink, diagrams of circuits, and logic work-flows.
She turned to the team. “Mind if I erase this?”
Singleton pursed his lips. “Hmm. I’m still working through some things there.”
McKinney put the eraser back on the tray. “Fine. I guess I can-”
Foxy was already wheeling a portable whiteboard in from the edge of the room. He slid it in front of the first one.
“Thanks.” She grabbed a marker and faced out to the assembled experts sitting around the room. One of the stranger speaking engagements she’d had. She looked to the Japanese scientist, the AI specialist. “Five, quite a bit of this will be elementary for you. I apologize in advance.”