He woke with the whining thud of the landing gear locking into place. It was just dawn and the rising sun sent red shafts of light through the windows when they turned in their final approach to the runway of the Megalobe airport. Benicoff quickly displayed and ran through the batch of E-fax messages that had come through while he slept; there were updates but no really new information.
Rohart was waiting for him as he came down the steps, haggard and unshaven; it had been a very long night. Benicoff shook his hand and smiled.
“You look like hell, Kyle.”
“I feel a lot worse. Do you realize that we have no leads at all, all the AI research gone—”
“How is Brian?”
“Alive, that’s all I know. Once he was stabilized and on life support the medevac chopper took him to San Diego. He’s been in the operating room all night.”
“Let’s get some coffee while you tell me about it.”
They went into the executive dining room and helped themselves to the black Mexican roast coffee; Rohart gulped some down before he spoke. “There was quite a flap at the hospital when they discovered the extent of Brian’s injuries. They even sent a copter out for a top surgeon, someone named Snaresbrook.”
“Dr. Erin Snaresbrook. The last I knew she was doing research at Scripps in La Jolla. Can you get a message through for her to contact me when she gets out of the O.R.?”
Rohart took the phone out of his pocket and passed the message to his office. “I’m afraid I don’t know her.”
“You should. She’s a Lasker Award laureate in medicine, neuropsychology, and perhaps the best brain surgeon in this country. And if you check the records you will find out that Brian has been working with her on some of his research. I don’t know any of the details, I just saw it in the last report filed with my office.”
“If she’s that good, then do you think that… ?”
“If anyone can save Brian then Snaresbrook can. I hope. Brian was a witness to what happened. If he lives, if he regains consciousness, he may be our only lead. Because as of this moment there are absolutely no other clues as to how this incredible affair was carried out.”
“We know part of what happened. I didn’t want to E-fax you the security details on an open line.” Rohart passed over a photograph. “That’s all that is left of what must have been a computer. Melted down by thermite.”
“Where was it?”
“Buried behind the control building. The engineers say that it was wired into the alarm circuitry. The device was undoubtedly programmed to send false video and alarm circuitry information to Security Central.”
Benicoff nodded grimly. “Very neat. All that the operators at Central ever know is what is shown on the screen and readouts. The whole world could come to an end outside — but as long as the screen showed recordings of the moon and stars — along with sound recordings of coyotes — the watch officer wouldn’t be aware of anything outside. But what about the foot patrols, the dogs?”
“We haven’t a clue there either. They’re gone—”
“Just like the equipment — and everyone, except Brian, who was in the lab. There has been one hell of an incredible breach of security here. Which we will go into but not now. The barn door is wide open and your AI is gone…”
The phone buzzed and he picked it up.
“Benicoff speaking. Tell me.” He listened briefly. “All right. Call back every twenty minutes or so. I don’t want her to leave without talking to me. That is urgent.” He folded the phone. “Dr. Snaresbrook is still in the operating room. In a few minutes I want you to take me to the lab. I want to see the entire thing for myself. But first tell me about these stock purchases in Japan. How does this relate to the theft?”
“It’s the timing. Those sales could have been arranged to keep J.J. in his office until the lab had shut for the night.”
“A long shot — but I’ll look into it. We’ll get over there now — but before you do that, I want to know exactly who is in charge.”
Rohart’s eyebrows lifted. “I’m afraid that I don’t understand.”
“Think. Your Chairman, your top scientist and your head of security have all vanished. Either they have gone over to the enemy — whoever that is — or they are dead…”
“You don’t think—”
“But I do think — and you had better too. This firm and all of its research have been badly compromised. We know that the AI is gone — but what else? I am going to initiate a complete security check of all the files and records. But before I do, I ask the question again. Who is in charge?”
“I guess the buck stops with me,” Rohart said with very little pleasure. “As Managing Director I appear to be the top official left.”
“That is correct. Now, do you feel that you are able to keep Megalobe operating, manage the entire firm by yourself and at the same time conduct the in-depth investigation that is called for?”
Rohart sipped at his coffee before he answered, searching Benicoff’s face for some clue and finding nothing there. “You want me to say it, don’t you? That while I can keep Megalobe operational I have no experience in the kind of investigation that is called for here, that I am out of my depth.”
“I don’t want you to say a thing that you do not think is true.” Benicoff’s voice was flat, dispassionate. Rohart smiled grimly.
“Message received. You are more than a bit of a bastard — but you’re right. Will you conduct the investigation? This is a formal request.”
“Good. I wanted it to be completely clear where the line of demarcation lies.”
“You’re in charge, right? What do you want me to do next?”
“Run the company. Period. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Rohart sighed and slumped back in his chair. “I’m glad that you are here — and I mean that.”
“Good. Now let’s get over to the lab.”
The door to the laboratory building was closed now — and protected by a large, grim man who wore a jacket despite the dry warmth of the morning. “ID,” he said, unmoving in the entrance. He checked Rohart’s identification, then glowered suspiciously at Benicoff when he reached into his pocket, grunted reluctant approval when he looked at the ID holograph and he saw who it was.
“Second door down there, sir. He’s waiting for you. You’re to be alone.”
“Who?”
“That’s all the message I have, sir,” the FBI man said stolidly.
“You don’t need me,” Rohart said. “And I have plenty that needs doing in the office.”
“Right.” Benicoff walked quickly to the door, knocked then opened it and went in.
“No names while the door is open. Get in and close it,” the man behind the desk said.
Benicoff did as he was told, then turned and resisted the impulse to come to attention. “I wasn’t told that you would be here, General Schorcht.” If Schorcht had a first name no one knew it. It was probably “General” in any case.
“No reason you should be, Benicoff. Let’s just keep it like that for a while.”
Benicoff had worked with the General before. He had found him ruthless, unlikable — and efficient. His face was as wrinkled as a sea tortoise — and he was probably as old as one. At one time in the misty past he had been a cavalry officer and had lost his right arm in battle. In Korea, it was said, though Gettysburg and the Marne were mentioned as well. He had been in Military Intelligence ever since Benicoff had known him; something high up, very secret. He gave orders, never took them.
“You’ll report to me once a day, minimum. Oftener if there is anything of importance. You have the secure number. Input all your data as well. Understood?”
“Understood. You know that this is a real bad one?”