The Utopia Experiment

62

Jon Smith lagged farther and farther behind Randi as they moved along the dark sidewalk. She slowed and finally was forced to stop in order for him to catch up.

“What’s wrong with you? My grandmother moves faster.”

“I don’t want to be here, Randi.”

“Quit being such a Boy Scout. It’s getting on my nerves.”

“We’re going off the map here. Beyond this point, there be dragons.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“I’m so not sure. Fred told me to walk away from this and to make sure you do the same. I know him, Randi. And I can tell you he was serious.”

“You need to be more creative, Jon. Think of it this way: We sicced Marty on this before we got those orders and he called us with something before we could tell him to stand down. All we’re doing here is debriefing him and making sure whatever he’s found is permanently buried. Isn’t that exactly what Fred would want us to do?”

Of course, he’d already considered — and rehearsed — that precise rationalization. Its plausibility, combined with his burning curiosity and loyalty to Randi, was the only reason he’d come this far.

They stopped in front of Zellerbach’s gate and this time it swung open without them having to use the call button. Smith hung back, letting Randi take a hesitant step inside while he waited for the stink bombs and fish to fly. When nothing happened, he reluctantly followed.

The front door opened, and Marty scanned his property nervously while they squeezed by.

“What took you so long?” he said, pushing the door closed and activating a high-tech dead bolt.

“Jon’s been sulking,” Randi said.

It was impossible to know if Zellerbach heard her response. He just turned and started for his office in the rushed waddle that Smith remembered so well from high school. Back then, it meant he’d pissed someone off and needed protection. What it meant now was a mystery.

The Merge that had been disassembled on the table was still in pieces, but now bristling with countless wires that led to the Cray in the corner. It looked a little like something out of a Frankenstein movie — though Zellerbach was more Igor than Victor.

“What did you find?” Smith said, anxious to get this over with.

“I’m not sure.”

“Are you kidding? You got me all the way out here to tell me you’re not sure?”

“What’s gotten in your bonnet?” Zellerbach said.

“Ignore him,” Randi said. “Tell us the story.”

“Well…I figured out a way to trigger something.”

“Something?”

His expression was as familiar as his odd gait. He was trying to figure out how to explain something to the slow kids. They’d been friends for a long time, but suddenly Smith remembered why it was that people always wanted to kick his ass.

“Okay…” he started. “There are certain parts in this thing — small stuff spread out all over the place — that no one’s been able to figure out. What everyone agrees on, though, is that they never activate no matter what app you use.”

“Twenty-eight of them,” Smith said.

“That’s right! How did you know?”

“My team’s been over that thing with a fine-tooth comb, Marty. We talked to Dresner and he says most are upgrade paths and a few relate to a power cell he’s developing. So thanks, but we’ve got it covered. Can we go now?”

“No. Because Dresner is lying. They don’t have anything to do with batteries or upgrades. They work together as a whole — kind of like a hardwired piece of software.”

“Hardwired software?” Randi said. “Isn’t that contradictory?”

“Not really. All software does is tell hardware what to do. It sends a little electric pulse that, say, turns on your computer’s speakers. Or causes your modem to upload something to the Internet. This is the same thing. If you send each of the twenty-eight components just the right signal, they launch all at once and act in unison.”

“It seems like if that was the case, my people would have triggered it by now.”

Zellerbach shook his head. “The problem is that each component needs a slightly different signal. Think of it this way: You’ve got a safe with twenty-eight keyholes. You need twenty-eight keys, right? But more than that, you need to know what order to turn them in and how far to turn each one down to the tenth of a millimeter.”

“There would be an almost infinite number of combinations,” Randi said.

“Tell me about it. Took me ten days to finally hit on it.”

“If there are really that many possibilities, ten days wouldn’t be anywhere near enough time. Even with your Cray.”

Zellerbach looked at the floor and chewed his lower lip for a moment. “I have to admit that I had to borrow some other people’s computer power.”

“Other people?”

“Well…I figure you don’t care about the Chinese government, but I did accidentally crash Amazon. Twice if you want to be technical about it. And you said you were in a hurry, so I maybe didn’t cover my tracks as well as I normally would…”

“Are you saying they could trace the crashes to you?” Smith said.

“Not if you were to smooth it over.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Randi said before Smith could find a blunt object to hit him with. “So what happens when you give it the right signals?”

“The twenty-eight individual components run for eighteen seconds and then it goes back to its normal mode.”

“Why? What’s it do?”

“Dunno. Without Dresner’s knowledge of how the Merge communicates with the brain, there’s no way to simulate the outcome. The only option would be to just stick it on your head and turn it on.”