Chapter Nine

“The problems of the world cannot possibly be solved by skeptics or cynics whose horizons are limited by the obvious realities. We need men who can dream of things that never were.” John F. Kennedy

The next morning, on Kate’s way to work, the checkpoints were back. While she had no problem passing, they made her edgy. She still hadn’t managed to get hold of Stella and she didn’t want to make a fuss in case…

In case what? Her mind scrambled for an explanation.

The morning passed in a blur of red alerts. She was pretty sure the guys at NTAC had adjusted the parameters calculating the threat levels, lowering the point at which an alert was generated, because she was inundated. Was it somehow connected with the yellow alert she had submitted?

She’d added her sister’s name to the search terms, along with instructions to dump any hits into a special folder. So far there had been nothing, and she breathed a little easier.

The single code green alert she deleted without even thinking about it.

She was going to hell.

Or to the Secret Service basement room.

Where was Stella?

An incoming email flashed up. The daily reports from NTAC. For a moment she was scared to look, then she forced herself to open the mail and scan down the alerts until she found the yellow.

They had assigned it a zero-threat level.

For a moment, she slumped in her seat, the tension draining out of her. Then she frowned. It didn’t make sense. She’d seen the info dumps. There was definitely a need to investigate.

She scrubbed a hand over her face, then powered up Auspex and ran the alert again.

There is a 79 percent chance of Report 10245 resulting in terrorist activity that would be harmful to the American people.

Oh God. It had gone up. And how harmful?

If there was a nuclear bomb involved, she was guessing very harmful. How could NTAC not find this a threat? It didn’t seem possible. Could Auspex have gotten it wrong?

She thought for a moment, then typed in the question…

What are the predicted casualties should the terrorist activity take place?

At this point casualties cannot be accurately predicted.

Can you give an estimate?

Estimated loss of life at this time is between 100,000 and 2,400,000,000.

Kate stared at the numbers, trying to get her head around all those zeros. Over two billion people. That was a quarter of the whole world. Even the low estimate was too many. They hadn’t seen death rates like that since the final pandemic. She got to her feet, rubbing her sweaty palms over her thighs. For a moment, she stood, unsure of what to do. She needed to get out of her office. It was like there was a monster in there, waiting to leap out and devour her whole life.

She couldn’t believe it.

And she wasn’t ready to face it right now.

She finally found herself outside Oliver’s office. Teresa was at the desk in front of his door, guarding the entrance.

“Is he in?” Kate asked.

“He is.”

“Does he have a minute?” She had no clue what she was going to say, but she needed a little human contact right now. For once in her life she’d had enough of computers.

Teresa called through. “You can go in.”

Kate opened the door and found Oliver seated at his desk. He was only in his forties, but his hair was almost white, a contrast to his dark skin. Right now, it stood on end as it always did when he was working. He had a habit of running his hands through it. He gestured for her to come in, but she stood holding onto the door. She needed some space, some fresh air, somewhere they could talk without fear of being overheard. While she wasn’t sure yet if she was going to confide in Oliver, if she did, it wasn’t going to be here, with the Political Officer listening to every word. “Would you like to go for a walk?” she asked.

He raised a brow, studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I could do with some fresh air.”

Teresa’s lips tightened as they walked by, but she didn’t speak, and Kate remained silent as they passed through security. They came out of the building on Connecticut Avenue and headed away from Dupont Circle. After a couple of minutes, they reached Farragut Square, with its small park area. Oliver bought them each a cup of coffee from a stand, and they took their drinks to one of the benches that looked onto the monument. Kate sipped the hot coffee. She had no clue what to say, why she was here. Because she believed Auspex that there was a 79 percent chance two billion people could die in the aftermath of a nuclear detonation? It seemed beyond belief.

As if recognizing that she needed time to think, Oliver remained silent, just drinking his coffee and staring out over the lawns. It was a beautiful day, the sky cloudless and a deep blue. Children played on the grass. It was inconceivable that anything bad could happen. Finally, she put down her empty cup and shifted on the bench to face him.

“Can I ask you a hypothetical question?” she said.

He raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Do you think it’s possible to design an accurate predictive engine?”

“You know my views on the matter. With the amount of data available today—or rather the amount which should be available if they’d let us have a free hand—and a computer with the power to sift through that data and find the patterns, yes, I think it’s possible. Whether it will ever happen is unlikely.”

“If it did, would you think it better to rely on a machine rather than on humans? To make decisions and…things?”

“Any day.”

She let out a short laugh. Oliver didn’t have a high opinion of most people.

“A computer is always impartial,” he continued. “It looks at facts. People are rarely impartial and come to any decision with a whole lot of baggage.” He swallowed the last of his coffee and tossed the cup in the trash. “Is there anything you want to tell me, Kate?”

She shook her head. “No. Definitely not.”

“Good, because I’m pretty certain I’m being monitored and that even now this meeting is being sent to the Secret Service. At least it’s known we had a past relationship, so it’s unlikely anyone will think it suspicious.”

“Why are they watching you?”

He shrugged. “My lack of support for the Party has never been a secret, but let’s not dwell on that. How can I help you? There’s obviously something more than a hypothetical question bothering you.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay, again hypothetically, if you did have a predictive engine, and it predicted something catastrophic, would you try and prove it wrong?”

“What probability?”

“79 percent.”

He gave her a sharp look. Perhaps she should have been a little vaguer, but she was rattled, and she found being evasive no easier than she found lying. “What have you done, Kate?”

She couldn’t involve him. “Nothing.”

He snorted, then shook his head. “There was a reason I hid you away in the basement when I gave you a job. I knew what I was getting into. Some people you just can’t stop. I considered it better to hide you in plain sight.”

“Really, Oliver, it’s just a theory I’m working on.”

He nodded slowly, blew out his breath, and scrubbed a hand through his wiry hair. “Okay. First, I’d make sure that this theory is reliable. Do some short-term tests. See how accurate this hypothetical machine is. Then go back to your prediction and run the same scenario under different conditions.”

“What if it comes up the same?”

He gave a faint smile. “Then we’d be in trouble. You’d have to keep digging. You’d need to find whatever it is that can change the probability of the catastrophic outcome. The negative prediction. Quite often something quite minor can have a major effect on outcomes. Think of the butterfly effect.”

That sounded positive. She’d just have to flap her wings and maybe she’d save a good proportion of the human race. At any rate, it gave her something to do rather than sit around twiddling her thumbs and waiting for the bomb to go off.

“The future is not set,” he continued. “Any predictive engine can only work on what’s happened in the past, so anything that happens between the time of the original prediction and the predicted event will have an effect. Remember that.”

She smiled. “I will.”

“You’re an extraordinary scientist, Kate. In any other time, you’d be allowed free rein.”

“It’s for the good of the people.”

He threw up his hands. “And comments like that make me want to bang my head against the wall. The good of the people. What happened to freedom, and the search for truth and knowledge? What about expanding our minds, stretching ourselves, exploring the unknown?”

“We had all those things and we nearly destroyed the world and all of humanity. At least people are safe and healthy and…”

Except that, according to Auspex, the world was anything but safe.

“Some people,” Oliver said. “Not all.”

“We can’t look after the entire world.” They were words her father repeated often, as though if he said them enough they would become true.

Oliver banged his hand down on the bench beside him and she jumped. “Stop fucking spouting the Party crap, Kate. I expect more from you.”

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes pricked with tears, and she didn’t know why. She was tired, that was all. She hadn’t been sleeping well since that night when the checkpoints appeared and the Mexican family were taken.

“So you should be.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry I lost my temper, but I hate this world we’ve made.”

Kate glanced around as though someone might be listening.

He sighed. “Maybe it’s time we got back. I think it’s right that you haven’t told me more, but remember, I’m here if you need me and you have nowhere else to turn. While I’m not sure what help I can be, I’ll try.”

“Thank you for listening, and for the advice.” She stood up, leaned across, and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m going to walk some more.” Maybe the less he was seen with her, the better. Or perhaps it was the other way around. How was her life getting so complicated?

Why did she feel the weight of the world on her shoulders as though the very survival of billions of people was her responsibility?

Perhaps because it was.

She walked for an hour through the streets of Washington. She’d been born and brought up here. Her mother and father both still lived in the house where she and her sister had grown up. It was a beautiful city, but she’d often thought of it more as a prison than a home. She passed through three checkpoints on her walk and was waved through them all. She didn’t see anyone else detained. She finally found herself in Lafayette Square, looking across at the White House.

Did she have a responsibility to tell what she had done?

What she had discovered?

She’d broken the law developing Auspex, and that was punishable by… Actually, she wasn’t sure. She should maybe have a word with her father. He would know, but her questions would worry him. Anyway, she would accept any punishment she was due if only they would listen to her and do something to change the future. If Auspex was right, the very survival of America was at stake. That was more important than her life.

She was getting ahead of herself. First things first. She’d take Oliver’s advice, and she’d run a series of controlled tests on Auspex. Find out just how accurate his predictions were. Then, if she was convinced that he was accurately predicting a future nuclear war, then she would try and work out what they could do to stop it. Finally, when she had as much hard information to back up her story as possible, she would approach the president. Tell him. Let him decide. He was the leader of America; he would do what was best for his people. However much she disliked him, she had never questioned that.

In the meantime, she really needed to talk to her sister. Warn her not to make any more stupid internet searches on possible rebels. Plus, Stella knew all the players and would be able to advise her how best to approach them.

Stella was Party through and through, but while she might disapprove of what Kate had done, she would not turn her in. Plus, she would listen. Stella wasn’t too blinded by religion not to believe in what science had to offer. Kate hoped.

She tried both Stella’s and Joe’s numbers again but got nothing. Which made sense if they were at the cottage. The signals outside the city were not good.

There was no cause for alarm. Yet.