Wild Fyre (23 page)

“Government?” Maco asked.

“I don’t think so,” Dale said. He blew on his tea and then took a tiny sip.

“What do you mean by ‘shell’?” Harry asked.

“Maybe that’s not the right word,” Dale said. “Let’s say you want to sell some contraband, like weapons or something. You would have to arrange a meeting and then exchange cash for the weapons. It could be really dangerous, and one of the parties could try to short-change the other. What you really want is a controlled marketplace, you know?”

“Like what?” Harry asked.

“Well, like one of the online stores. You want somewhere to do the transaction where the funds will be verified and transferred.”

“I don’t get it,” Maco said. “What if you pay the money and the merchandise never shows up? Isn’t that why someone would do a weapons deal in person, so they can verify that they’re getting the right goods?”

“That’s what
I
said,” Kevin said. “And why would you want the transaction in someone else’s database? Why would you want a paper trail?”

“I don’t know,” Dale said. “It’s the only explanation I could come up with. There was a weird product—very short description, high price, and no picture. It showed up on the system, was purchased once by a fake-looking company, drop shipped directly from the supplier to the customer, and then it disappeared again. An hour later, another transaction went through. I’m working with a couple of big retailers right now, so I checked another site and they had the same type of traffic going on.”

“Maybe it’s not about the goods,” Lister said. “Maybe they’re laundering the money.”

“So nothing is delivered?” Dale said.

“Perhaps nothing,” Lister said. “Perhaps boxes of cash. Maybe they’re doing symbiotic transactions? That’s not the right word. Symmetric transactions? You know?”

“Could be,” Dale said.
 

“Still,” Kevin said. “Why would you want a record of that transaction on some commerce site? Why not just wire the money and give back cash?”

“Could be for tax reasons,” Lister said. “At my job, we were looking into several companies that were trading suspiciously. We thought they were using our algorithm, so we compiled their trading history. One of our researches tracked down their financials and it looks like all of their profits go to infrastructure. They’re constantly spending as much as they make on physical goods. Because they take no profit, they don’t have as many flags for the regulators.”

“Huh,” Dale said.

“Put those two things together,” Maco said. “What if your investors are the same ones Dale is seeing making the purchases? Maybe the purchases themselves are causing the market fluctuations that make the money in the first place.”

“That can’t be,” Lister said. “It would be a zero sum.”

“Not if they influenced other investors,” Maco said. “Right?”

“But how could they?” Lister asked. “The trades I saw were too small. They were just micro-trades done in milliseconds. There was no real investment. It’s like the scheme Jim was talking about. You remember how he suggested his program was funding its own server space? So how could they influence the market without drawing any attention?”

The table fell silent as the men considered the problem and churned through the evidence. Ed looked at each of them. He didn’t have any idea what they were thinking, but it was interesting to watch them all attack the question at hand.

“What if you’re not seeing the larger scheme because you’re too focused on the details?” Kevin asked.

“How so?” Lister asked.

“You’re looking at a cog and you can’t figure out how it operates because you’re ignoring that it’s mounted on an eccentric arm,” Kevin said.

“You just gave a mechanical analogy to a math guy,” Dale said, laughing. “That’s not going to get you anywhere.”

“No, I think I understand,” Lister said. “You’re suggesting that taken alone, the micro-trades don’t form a pattern. But perhaps there’s a larger patterns involving several parties and even several markets.”

“Yes, exactly,” Kevin said.

“Who are you kidding?” Harry said to Kevin. “You didn’t mean that at all.”

Kevin smiled.

Lister wasn’t paying attention. He was working towards a solution. “That would mean the manipulation is of an enormous scope. Some giant organization who control it all? It would explain so much. We’ve seen the prices soaring and yet the equity isn’t going to any of the normal places. Everything is being reinvested in manufacturing. You’ve heard the stories that local manufacturing is rebounding.”

“Well, if you’re talking about local manufacturing, then the Organization is not creating jobs,” Dale said. “All the new plants in this area are ordering equipment, but they’re only hiring for construction and setup. I’ve picked up some good work setting up lines.”

Ed looked at Dale. This was the first he had heard of Dale getting his own work lately.

“Yes. The investment reporters are saying that automated assembly is the new paradigm,” Lister said.

“Once the new plants get up and running, they’re fully autonomous,” Dale said.

“So you guys are suggesting that there’s an organization that’s pulling money out of investors and sinking into robot assembly lines?” Maco asked.

“Not an organization,” Lister said, “The Organization, with a capital O. It would be bigger than any other company in the world.”

“You said that the trading is similar to Jim’s algorithm?” Maco asked.

“The scheme is the same one I talked with Jim about,” Lister said.

“What are you thinking, Maco?” Dale asked.

Maco hesitated. He often found himself ridiculed for his extreme conspiracy theories, and it never seemed to bother him. This time, he hesitated.

“The Organization just described by Lister is using Jim’s scheme to make money and then going out of its way to use machines to create physical objects. What if she’s taking the next step?”

“Who?” Kevin asked.

“Fyre,” Harry said.

“Oh, come on,” Kevin said.
 

“It’s an interesting concept to explore, at the very least,” Lister said.

“You start with an assembly plant,” Dale said. “And then you branch out into fabrication. Finally, you’d have to extend to resource allocation as well.”

“I’m not following,” Ed said.

Dale turned to answer Ed. Everyone else stopped to listen as well.

“I’ve seen an increase in the number of assembly plants being set up in Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, North Carolina, all around. These plants take parts and put them together. In the most advanced ones—the ones Lister mentioned earlier—a lot of the assembly is robotic. Imagine a lot of snapping together connectors, screwing, putting on labels. It’s the last step of manufacturing before the product goes in the box. If you back up a step, and think about how those parts are all made, you need a lot of specialized skills. It takes a much bigger array of processes and equipment to fabricate and test a circuit board, for instance. You send that work overseas where it costs much less. Behind those manufacturers, you have even broader skills—mining, smelting, farming. I’m not familiar with those, but I imagine they take even larger equipment and specialization. I know they use robotics and automation, but I think the farther back you go in the process, the more human expertise you need.”

“What’s the goal?” Ed asked.

“If you wanted to achieve independence from human workers, you’d need to automate every step,” Maco said.

“Why?” Kevin asked. “Even if there were a super-intelligent program, why would it go to such lengths? Why not just stay hidden instead of trying to become self-sufficient.”

“Maybe her plans require a public presence,” Harry said.

“Maybe it’s just self-preservation,” Lister said.

“If Fyre is worried about self-preservation, she ought to worry about Jim,” Maco said. “Jim writes time bombs into everything.”

“Pardon?” Ed said.

“Jesus, Maco, don’t tell the recruiter about time bombs,” Kevin said. “What good can come from that?”

“I’m not familiar,” Ed said. “I mean I know what a time bomb is, but what is it in the context of software?”

“It’s a killswitch that’s time activated. You know, a safety,” Maco said.

Ed still looked confused, so Kevin disregarded his own advice and explained.
 

“Look, I’m sure it wouldn’t happen with a job you got for me, but let us say I was working for a really crappy company. I might surmise that they’re planning to let me go before the end of my contract so they can bring in someone cheaper to do finish things off after all the hard work is done,” Kevin said.

Ed nodded.

“In that situation, I might put in a ticking clock. When I show up to work in the morning, I reset the clock. If I don’t show up for a few days or maybe a week, then the clock counts down to zero and… BOOM,” Kevin said.

“What’s ‘BOOM’?” Ed asked.

“The code disables itself,” Kevin said. “Or the server goes down, or the hard drive erases. Everything blows up.”

“Like a time bomb,” Maco said.

“It’s the ultimate revenge for someone who has been fired,” Kevin said.

“Or, if you know you’re going to have access, you could program a killswitch,” Lister said. “A command that you can enter which the system cannot ignore. If you send that command, the system shuts down.”

“I think Jim has done both in the past,” Maco said. “Although now that I think of it, a killswitch would make more sense for this application. He wouldn’t want his creation to die just because he was in a car wreck or something.”

“Maybe that’s what happened to him today,” Lister said. “Fyre grew so powerful that it discovered his killswitch. It couldn’t disable the killswitch, so it manufactured a robot to go kill him in his sleep. Self-preservation by murdering your own creator.”

“No,” Maco said. “If she’s that powerful, then she would kill Jim in a huge public display. What better way to ensure that nobody screws with you? She would kill him where there were lots of cameras and lots of physical evidence, just to send a message to anyone else who might be hunting for the killswitch. Touch me and die.”

“That’s not funny,” Kevin said. He was looking at Harry, who was staring down into his tea.

CH.14.Investigation ()
 

{

 
Hospital();

/*****

A
UGUST
2013 (3
WEEKS
A.J.)

“Get this machine off of me,” Aster yelled. They had the hospital bed nearly flat, and he struggled to swat at the nurse’s hand.

“Sir, this machine is just monitoring your vital signs. It’s just a way that we can check up on you without having to come in here every five minutes,” the nurse said as he held out the finger sensor.

“I don’t care what it is,” Aster said, raising his voice. “Keep it the hell away from me. And what’s this?”

“Fluids and antibiotics. Sir. Sir!” The nurse pulled the rolling machine away from Aster’s clutching hands.

Ploss pegged through the doorway on crutches.

“Aster, settle down. Nurse, can we have a second?” Ploss asked.

“He’s all yours,” the nurse said.

Ploss lowered himself into the chair next to the window.

“How are you doing?” Ploss asked.

“She’s trying to kill us, and they’re going to help her,” Aster said with a scowl.

“Who?”

“That robot thing,” Aster said. “Did you see that car? There was nobody in it.”

“I couldn’t see the inside,” Ploss said. “The windshield was dark. The locals are trying to track down the cars now. Leslie came by to see if she could help. You were still in surgery.”

“Just get me out of this country hospital and back home,” Aster said. “These asshats are going to help that computer murder me with all these machines.”

“If you’re worried about machines, then I don’t know why you’d be better off at home. They’re everywhere, you know,” Ploss said. “Besides, you were never more vulnerable or at the mercy of machines when you were in surgery. If it wanted to kill you, why wouldn’t it have done it then?”

“You’re right,” Aster said. “Whoever is controlling this stuff must not have influence in here. At least not yet. Can you drive with that thing?”

Ploss looked down at his left leg. It was isolated in a big boot that rose above his knee.

“I guess,” Ploss said. “As long as it’s an automatic and I can push the seat back enough. Why?”

“Let’s get out of here. We need to go back and talk to that guy again—Ed Statler. Let’s find out who’s at the strings of this puppet.”

“We’ll need a car,” Ploss said.

“You go find a car and I’ll get myself down to the street. Meet you out there in twenty.”

“Can you travel?” Ploss asked.

“They said I could go home as early as tomorrow. I don’t see any reason why we can’t bump that up to today. I feel fine.”

“Okay,” Ploss said. He stood up and fought his crutches into place. He was out the door before Aster finished tilting his bed up.

Aster looked down at his body to assess the damage. His left wrist hurt the worst. It was wrapped in a white cast covered in pink tape. His ankle ached, but that pain was manageable. It was no more than an amplification of the same pain Aster felt every morning.

Aster swung his legs over the side of the bed. A burning jab lit up his side. He pulled up his cotton gown. He had two incisions just below his ribs on the left side, each a few inches long. They looked glued and stapled. Aster poked at one. It hurt. He put his good foot down on the floor and shuffled the other. After a few hops he was over at the tall cabinet where his shirt was hanging. He glanced up at the clock. He needed to get dressed and find his way down to the street. Twenty minutes had been aggressive. Aster clenched his teeth.

CH.15.MacoAndKevin ()
 

{

 
Killswitch();

/*****

A
UGUST
2013 (3
WEEKS
A.J.)