Counterpoint (9 page)

All went well with the deal, and he
soon realised he had made a difference too many lives, more
effectively than any politicians could have done. Best of all he
had remained anonymous, the secret power behind the throne, not for
him the fanfare and adulation.

Of course, in reality the Duke had
picked him well, as Sam soon realised, when drawn deeper into the
web of The Organisation. Sam also realised much of the business was
based on illegal practices, with intimate connections to serious
organised crime. Whilst this fact went against his whole philosophy
of life, he could often achieve greater good for humanity this way,
than through the so-called legitimate methods.

Sam’s colleagues at the mountain
headquarters were of the same mind, none of them sought personal
power. Although collectively they formed a team, they were all high
achievers, individuals pulling in the same orchestrated direction;
this was the reason for the success, of the Duke’s
Organisation.

All glory went to the Duke; he made the
business what it was. Let him bask in the limelight, they did not
want it, themselves. Unswerving loyalty to the Duke was the bedrock
of their belief, no one was forced to work for him, they truly
wanted to. No one there had actually committed an illegal act,
though they knew who had. They were all paid reasonable salaries
for what work they did and they all knew what everyone else was
paid. Nobody was jealous or dissatisfied because they had more in
benefits than they could ever use, and in any case, their work was
their reward.

Max was examined by a paramedic and
found to be quite alive, but with a severe skull fracture, and
extensive powder burns to one side of his face including an
eye.

A business like decision was made by
Sam, for the medical team to operate and save Max’s life. Quite
simply, the Duke had planned to use Max in the future, as he was
the right type for The Organisation. Sam had agreed to this, after
he had studied the dossier about Max.

The three specialists forming the
medical team, from the large private hospital in the nearby city,
effectively owned by The Organisation, were briefed. They conducted
their initial examination of Max by video link, from the mini
hospital on the mountain. After basic medical intervention to
stabilise his condition, Max was flown by medical helicopter to the
specialists, so they could carry out the necessary surgery on
him.

The skull fracture was routine, plastic
surgery to the side of his face was under review.

“Let’s see what nature does,” said the
specialist. “We can tidy up from there.”

The eye was more problematic. The
cornea was badly seared and the retina detached by the blast. Bits
of wadding and metal fragments had to be removed from the
eyeball.

They reattached the retina using an
experimental Bio-glue rather than a laser, followed by an
experimental stem cell injection at the back of the eye. The
specialist believed these would replace damaged cells, only within
the eye. There was a risk the cells might develop uncontrollably,
so they would monitor his progress. They fitted an experimental
cornea graft and lens to replace the damaged tissue.

The glue, stem cell treatment, cornea,
and the lens was produced by a company, funded, and controlled by
The Organisation.

Sam decided not to tell Carla about the
experimental nature of the operation or about Max’s actual
condition until he was “out of danger,” six hours later.

Although sedated, she leapt up and
hugged Sam when he finally told her. She knew the last six hours of
sedated grief were better than uncertainty and possibly still
losing Max. Sam told her not to make contact with Max, until he was
healthy enough to be brought back to the mountain, this was for
security reasons. She knew better than to ask questions or disobey,
but was beside herself with emotion and eagerness to see Max and
tell him all the things she wanted to, when she thought he was
dead.

As soon as Paul, the Duke’s double
arrived, he was taken to the conference room for briefing.

Sam sat in his usual place and offered
Paul, the Duke’s seat. Paul hesitated; he had not been close to his
identical twin brother for most of his life, so the usual bond
between twins was not strong. None the less, it was a shock to hear
the news, and so real now he was here, about to sit in the Duke’s
sacred place.

Every one watched Paul as he paused in
thought.

Suddenly he relived a long lifetime of
events with his brother as they replayed in his mind.

The Duke ‘s real name was David Green,
such an ordinary name for such an extraordinary person, born in
Malta 16th August two minutes after midnight, just after Paul who
was technically born on the 15th.

For the boy’s mother, the difference in
time was very significant as she was passionate in her belief in
Astrology. She knew that with his Ascendant in Scorpio and Moon in
Leo, David would be a leader with many dark secrets, decreed in the
combination of the stars. For Paul, a few minutes earlier, the
Ascendant was Libra and Moon in Cancer, bestowing considerable
charm and strong links to home and family.

In the popularity stakes, Paul was
always the favourite, especially with the village girls, as he got
older. David, on the other hand, was aloof and secretive, quietly
observing what went on around him.

Soon he was involved in money making
schemes, never the front man, preferring to plan and organise
others. When trouble came, he was never implicated, always
overlooked. They thought he was too quiet and distant to be a
troublemaker.

Soon after the war, in 1952 David
organised an underwater search for a small cargo ship, reputed to
be carrying medical supplies to British troops, which sank in the
Mediterranean.

The search was successful; he made a
small profit on the morphine and similar drugs recovered intact in
Phials, as part of the cargo. However, the ship was incidental, and
just a smokescreen to locate a specific German submarine, rammed
and sunk by the ship! Paul only knew of the submarine and its cargo
of gold bullion, because his brother David had done a lot of
research on it.

The war was going badly for Germany,
and gold and art treasures were being spirited away to provide
security for certain high-ranking officers after the war. Later,
Paul found out that David had tracked down one of the survivors,
the radio operator who had transmitted the coordinates given to him
by the Navigator, of his slowly sinking submarine. In fact, the
operator did not send the signal on the correct frequency,
deliberately, he planned to return after the war and retrieve the
treasure for himself.

Most of the other members of the
submarine crew were captured and held as prisoners of war. They did
not know the position of the sunken submarine. It had limped 5
nautical miles away from the position given by the sinking cargo
ship, which had rammed it.

The radio operator claimed he had not
been given the sub’s final position, knowing the Navigator who had
given the coordinates to him had died, trying to avoid capture.

David had agreed to finance the
recovery of the bullion in partnership with the radio operator, in
exchange for 40% of the profit. Having located the wreck just off
the coast of North Africa, in relatively shallow water, the
recovery was probably made, but nothing was ever heard of the
salvage team again.

David claimed to have lost most of his
money in the venture and moved to Cyprus. After that, Paul and the
family lost all contact with David until Lana died, he asked Paul
to stand in for him with the business while he sorted his life
out.

The events, though seemingly replayed
in real time in his mind, took only seconds to relive. Paul pulled
himself together and took his seat.

The briefing was typically thorough;
each specialist present around the table gave a detailed overview
of the current situation. Paul was quick on the uptake and
understood the global picture without any problem; however, the
coarse detail left him wondering how his late brother managed to
cope with the fine detail on a day-to-day basis. He did admire the
Dukes achievements, though not all of his methods, but there, he
was an entirely different person, and held different values and
goals in life.

The final part of the briefing
concerned the death of the Duke. Paul saw security videos of the
meeting with Philippe and understood the relevance of pictures of
Carla and Lana on the wall. He asked about Carla and was surprised
at the facts revealed to him.

Paul had never been aware of the Duke’s
sentimental side, except with Lana. To track down and nurture the
child of an unfaithful wife struck him as uncharacteristic. DNA
tests had confirmed Carla was just Lana’s and not of the Duke’s
blood. He understood the need to keep the facts secret and not to
tell anyone, least of all Carla or Max.

The dossier on Max was small and made
dull reading. His only involvement in things was being caught up in
Carla’s private activities. The Duke had made it known that he
liked Max, and if he could be fitted into The Organisation, Max and
Carla would make a good team. The Duke’s unerring judgement was
respected, that made the matter law.

Max’s medical condition was stable, so
there was no problem with body disposal and his unwitting
participation in leading edge research (as a guinea pig) was of
enormous benefit to The Organisation.

The real problem was, no one must know
of the Duke’s death until they were ready, especially the man who
had killed him, so Paul must participate in a video link with key
people to dispel rumours. The first call would be to Philippe.

The open web link to Philippe showed
Paul in a hospital bed, connected to fluid drip and monitor. The
conversation was brief, and made clear to Philippe, until they
concluded Project Oracle, no action would be taken against him.

If the Project was successful, then he,
the Duke would reconsider the matter. After all, he would recover
fully from the wound, thanks to a new executive style bulletproof
vest. The blood Philippe saw was because the extremely thin
material prevented fatal penetration, even at such short range.
Paul suggested Philippe should consider using a vest, if this is
how he treats colleagues.

As regards Lana’s infidelity, he had
only himself to blame. He should never have neglected her, and she
would not have strayed.

Philippe did not believe a word of it,
I know I killed the Duke, and you are a double. I have a question
that only the real Duke can answer.

Paul’s instant reply to the question
and menacing scowl dumfounded Philippe. Only the Duke, Lana’s
gynaecologist and obstetrician could have known the answer. Paul
realised how meticulous and talented the briefing team were. They
had anticipated the question and researched Lana’s medical notes
for possible answers, to this and many other scenarios.

“I know you will try and get even for
all this,” snarled Philippe. “Join the queue; you will be just one
more to contend with. I am used to watching my back. By the way, I
am surprised you still expect me to deliver Oracle when your bitch
stole it off me.”

“Your daughter, you mean,” said
Paul.

“She may be biologically, but she is
dead meat when I get her.”

“Well, that is a matter for you, though
I doubt you will ever get the chance. She is well protected here
and extremely smart, let’s face it; you have lost your touch.”

“If Carla has Oracle, then we won’t
have any need for you Philippe, I will ask her about it.”

Paul clicked the mouse and closed the
browser window, cutting off the call.

Sam called for Carla to attend his
office. Turning to Paul he said, “If Carla has Oracle, then we have
saved a fortune. All we need now is the designer to tell us how to
use it.”

“What is this Project Oracle anyway?”
Asked Paul.

“Quite simply it is a piece of software
that defies description or even more strangely a specific use.
“

“That is stupid” scoffed Paul. “The
Organisation does not do anything without a clear cut purpose, so
why would a non-specific programme be of any interest?”

Sam grinned and replied, “Well, it
could be described as a database system or possibly an expert
system, but it does not actually store data in the way computers
usually do. Imagine it is like having a team of highly intelligent
and creative specialists on hand, ask Oracle a question and it will
produce an answer. As I understand it, the challenge is what
questions to ask.”

“Where does it get its information
from?” Questioned Paul.

“Some is stored, not like in a
database, but in a system similar to a human brain. If you ask it
what a ship is, it will probably give a dictionary answer, whereas
if you ask how to transport a very large object across the ocean,
it will tell you which ships in the world could do the job.”

“Well,” said Paul, “surely present
technology can do that.”

“No! No!” Said Sam “I have simplified
too much, you could have asked it to design a specific vessel, and
it would have produced the full working drawings. If the software
had the ability to motivate itself, it would be true artificial
intelligence. It would be creative in its own right, self-aware,
but it is not.”

“What use is a design tool to The
Organisation?” Retorted Paul. “Why bother with it? Just kill the
bastard who killed my brother!”

“No, you still haven’t grasped it, it
can also analyse political or commercial situations and many other
things. It is able to seek out, find data on its own, and then look
at the big picture before giving the answer. Current technology
relies on mathematical models and information typed in; this system
can make a more reliable prediction based on its creative
analysis.”