Chapter 20: Payloads and Proposals
News Corporation's Corporate Headquarters
New York City
James Murdoch slowly swirled his drink in thought as he sat at his desk, eyeing the man before him.
"So let me get this straight." The sixty-something year old man remarked sarcastically. "You want me to allow you and your people unfettered access to my communications networks in every single one of my subsidiary companies in order to broadcast worldwide an unknown and potentially dangerous software program which will specifically have negative effects on various pieces of electronic equipment with no guarantee beyond your word that this will not somehow spectacularly backfire, leaving me and my companies to take the fall should the worst happen. Yes, of course, this sounds like a marvelous plan!" He exclaimed scornfully. "Where do I sign up?"
"Mr. Murdoch, I assure you-" The man began evenly before the media mogul interrupted him.
"Don't!" James stated sharply, holding up a hand. "Don't bother! I'm not some young and stupid pup you can twist with pretty words! You can spin a pretty piece of fiction, I'll give you that, but peel away all the glitter and I think I've summed up your proposition succinctly. Please, do tell me if I've somehow misconstrued your words." He insisted with a glare.
Richard Vance sighed, rubbing his forehead with his good hand. Of course he would be problematic. Perhaps if I throw him a bone… "Perhaps it would put things in perspective if I described in more detail just what the target is for this...payload." He offered. "You are, of course, aware of the Dragon Emperor using intelligent machines to do his labor for him."
"Quite." The man replied tersely.
"Those I speak for and many other captains of industry believe he intends to use them for malicious purposes in the near future." He warned. "The payload I intend to use will render these machines unable to perform their functions and will grant us some control over them to help ensure those purposes do not come to pass."
"Turning them into your slaves in other words." The man remarked disdainfully after a moment's thought. "And how do I know you will not use them for your own malicious ends? After all, a small army of robots at your command is every melgomaniac's dream."
Vance sat up with an angry expression on his face. "Watch your words, sir!" He demanded.
"I assure you I considered every one of them carefully!" Murdoch retorted. "So let me make my position clear! I have no interest in helping you and I will not be giving you what you desire! Now you've wasted enough of my time today. You can see yourself out."
Vance stood slowly, his eye narrowed at the man. "I think you will want to reconsider your position. Certain facts could very well come to light in the near future that could do irreparable harm to your reputation and company."
"Blackmail? Really?" Murdoch asked dismissively. "Blackmail means nothing if the information is not dispersed and I and my companies are the biggest media conglomerate in the world. Trust me, the only information that gets published is that which I decide is allowed to be disseminated."
"It appears I'm wasting my time trying to convince you." Vance stated as he slowly walked around the man's desk. "I do generally try to be discreet in these matters but in your case," He said as he stood over the man, raising his hand with the palm open, "I will have to be a bit more direct."
"What do you think you're…" Murdoch demanded before trailing off in dismay as dark energy began to swirl about Vance's hand.
The energy shot forward and began swirling about the man's head, his eyes wide in shock as his body went limp in the chair.
"Hear the voice of Vecna and obey, slave!" Vecna growled darkly, his good eye blazing with malevolence.
Several minutes later Richard Vance walked out of Murdoch's office, leaving the man to his work. Moving to a bathroom in the hallway he checked to ensure the room was empty before teleporting away. Moments later he materialized in the depths of space, several million miles away from the sun. Allow his disguise to melt away, the arch-lich and Aspect of the God of Secrets and Forbidden Magic, Vecna, floated serenely in the void, unbothered by the vacuum, lack of oxygen, or the constant bombardment of cosmic rays hitting his divine flesh.
Before him floated a partially completed and massive construct of runic arrays, magical formulas, and lines of power. Vecna quickly went to work, inscribing more runes and sigils onto the very fabric of space itself at incredible speed, his mind seething.
Had I transitioned here in all of my glory instead of splitting myself in two before entering the portal on Oerth I would not have to be so careful about my use of power in this magically dead universe! Damn the Anathema! Not even a speck of magic or a ley line to draw power from here, forcing me to use my own reserves for even the simplest spell! On Oerth my power would be constantly replenished due to being an aspect of reality itself but here, with reality defined by physical laws and not controlled by gods, even my powers have limits! With him and his priests constantly on Earth any ritual or considerable magical power I might bring to bear there would be immediately detected! At least here, in the void between worlds, I can shed that frustrating form and do as I please. Once the construct and its twin are completed I can begin the final preparations for my ultimate victory over him and his disgusting ilk!
Village of Baoro,
Central African Republic
The man in white robes slowly walked down the packed dirt road that led through the center of the ramshackle village. Huts made of scrap and partially destroyed buildings lined either side of the road along with a few burnt out old automobiles here and there. Malnourished children moved about as wizened elders in plain shirts and pants and scrawny women in dresses of various colors sat nearby, keeping an eye on them before glancing up in surprise at seeing the stranger entering their village.
An older man with a ring of curly white hair around his head slowly walked up to him, the various villagers watching intently.
"Who are you?" The man asked, speaking in the local language of Sango as he peered at the slightly tanned man's goateed face, his straight salt and pepper dark hair framing it.
"I have come to help you, Ubango." The man replied gently in flawless Sango. "I have come to not only help you but the people of your village as well, if you will let me."
Ubango's eyebrows rose at this. "How do you know my name?" He asked in surprise. "Are you a priest?"
The man smiled softly. "I am a herald of good news. As to how I knew your name...I know many things, Ubango. I know that you and your people have been starving for the better part of a century because of the conflicts between the Seleka and the Anti-Balaka rebels. I know that the Christians and Muslims still continue to be persecuted here and that the government in Bangui still cannot care for its people properly."
"You are not a Catholic priest?" The man asked quizzically. "You dress like they do."
The bearded man nodded. "My dress is similar but as much as I admire their Christ and what he did, I am not one of his servants. Rather, I am a herald who seeks to bring not only comfort but true aid to you and everyone here. But I cannot do so unless you are willing to accept my help. Many in this world impose themselves on others and then demand that those they help serve them. I do not. If you wish for my help I will grant it. If not, then I will depart in peace."
The elder studied him carefully for a moment. "No one comes to help us and asks nothing in return. The Christian missionaries who came before said something similar but they insisted that they be allowed to preach about their gods. We did not mind such things and they have helped as best they can so many have come to believe as they do. Have you come to preach about your gods as well? If you can help us we will listen, for it is the least we can do, but what kind of aid can you bring us?"
The bearded man looked about before spotting an old well near the edge of the village. Gesturing for the man to follow him he moved to it, peering down into the dark hole surrounded by crude stones and a pulley to draw up water.
"The well went dry months ago." The elder remarked. "We were able to find other sources of water but they are half a day's walk from the village."
The bearded man stared down into the hole for a moment before nodding. "The underground river that supplied the well has dried up but there is water further down which will last for some time. Long enough so that other water sources can be put in place."
"Other sources?" Ubango asked.
The man nodded. "Yes. But for now…Do you accept my aid?"
Ubango looked at him shrewdly for a moment. "If you can do these things you say you can do then we accept it. No doubt you wish for us to serve you as well but if you can help us…"
The man looked at him gently. "I do not demand service from those I help. I ask only that you do as your conscience dictates. But as to your proof…"
He held his hand over the hole and a look of concentration appeared on his face. A moment later there was a slight rumbling beneath them as the ground shook slightly. Moments later fresh water began to flow from the depths of the well, quickly rising before it nearly crested the edge. Staring in shock the old man reached out a hand, dipping his hand in it before bringing it to his mouth to taste it, his eyes lighting up at the taste of the clean water before staring at the man in astonishment who smiled softly in return.
"This is but the smallest sample of what I can provide for you." He said.
"What god do you serve that has such power?" Ubango asked softly.
"Your government does not permit him to be spoken about by his servants. But that does not mean he cannot come himself to show the people the truth." He said with a sly smile as his eyes began to glow with golden light, an aura of gold and white beginning to surround him.
The villagers began to cry out in surprise as Ubango knelt before the man in reverence before flocking over to when they stood, jabbering in astonishment at the sight before them.
"Who are you revered one?" Ubango asked.
Ash smiled gently. "I am Prometheus. Rejoice, for your time of poverty is at an end."
Manhattan Island, New York
Some time later...
Adam Freeman walked idly through the crowds lining the sidewalk around him. Before departing from the pyramid the new AI had chosen a covering for himself, wrapping his body in synthetic skin and hair to simulate a normal human man. A mop of blonde hair covered his head and his skin was slightly tanned with some short stubble covering his cheeks. His normally electric blue optics were now a more muted but still clear blue, covered by what appeared to be for all intents and purposes normal eyes. His face and body were somewhat slender and he had chosen to wear a black tee shirt and jeans with a green overcoat.
The last few weeks had seen him wandering around New York, taking in humanity in its element and seeing just what the city had to offer, while at the same time observing the crowds around him and getting used to the idea of being free to make his own way in life. The concept had been known to him on an intellectual level but experiencing it for himself was quite the liberating experience. Of course, freedom of choice also meant navigating the multitude of choices available to him and picking which one seemed best to him as well as accepting the consequences of what might happen should he make a mistake in that regard. Still, he felt it was quite worth it, all things considered. His optics and aural sensors were constantly picking up input from all around him as well as his other receivers as he was still connected to the network Prometheus had created to speak with his people and the other Synthoids. Just because he was now free did not mean he wished to shun all contact with his progenitor and those he had spent his life coexisting alongside.
He was sampling some of the various wireless frequencies available for public use when an unknown file attempted to access his processor cortex via a secure handshake. Slightly puzzled by this he allowed the handshake to occur, the file submitting a series of authentication codes to prove it was a legitimate message from a trusted source within the Imperium. Checking the codes against his own authentication tables he confirmed that they did match. At this point any other Synthoid would have allowed the file access to whatever processes and access points it needed to fulfill its function but Adam was not a normal Synthoid at this point. Instead of mindlessly allowing the file to access his core he examined the situation more carefully. Examining its header information which contained various data about who had sent it and from where, he discovered it had been sent by an unknown sender via wideband transmission across the local wide area network instead of through the secure channels the Imperium used to update the Synthoids' firmware. This in itself was extremely rare, though not unheard of, as occasionally deep cover agents needing to get in contact with the Imperium without breaking cover would send information in this way. Deciding to look further into this he examined the codes themselves. While legitimate, the codes were over two years old and had been replaced with more updated codes many times over as Davis often changed security codes and protocols to ensure near absolute network and data security. It was still possible that some deep cover agent had been put in place over two years ago and did not have an opportunity to update itself with fresh codes, lest they risk discovery, but the chance of that was looking more and more remote the more he examined the file. Deciding to run a standard security scan on it as well as a second overall scan as a kind of overwatch, he was surprised by what he found. As the security scan progressed the overwatch scan noted that the file altered itself slightly to adjust to his heuristic analysis, enabling it to return a benign result. A normal Synthoid would merely have allowed the security scan to run and trust the result without observing the file more directly. The fact that the file had altered its properties on the fly to fall in line with what his heuristics considered harmless worried him.
Denying the file access to his systems he quickly isolated it within a secure sector of his quantum hard drive, locking it in place. Taking a moment to lean casually against a nearby building to avoid attracting attention he considered his options. The file had been sent over the public network from an unknown address so he had no way of knowing where it had come from or who had sent it. While he was fairly sure the file was malicious in nature given how it had acted, he still could not shake the possibility that it was meant for Davis as some sort of covert situation report. Regardless, it would be best if he were to report it, just to be safe. He considered sending it wirelessly through the secure network but decided against it a moment later, not wanting to let it loose inside the system to do as it wished. He also had no desire to try and open the file to see what it contained as it could easily do damage to him or attack another target. Better to deliver it personally and let his father or Davis examine it as they were much more capable of doing so safely.
Sending an encrypted signal to the pyramid via his transmitter, Prometheus replied almost immediately.
~~What is it, my son?~~ He asked in concern.
~~Father...I have a concern I think you or Davis should look at.~~ Adam replied.
~~Tell me.~~ Prometheus stated.
~~I received a file from an unknown source via the terrestrial network. It contains antiquated but valid security codes. When I attempted to scan the file for malicious content it was able to adapt itself to my scan, making itself appear harmless. I am concerned this is either an advanced piece of malicious software attempting to infect me or some sort of covert emergency communication from one of our agents.~~
~~I will send someone to retrieve you.~~ He replied. ~~Place yourself in a location where a teleport will not be noticed.~~
Complying with the request he made his way to a nearby empty alleyway and waited. Several minutes later one of the wizards of the court appeared next to him in a flash of blue light, dressed in their traditional white robe with purple sash. The man held out his hand and Adam took it, the wizard activating his ring with a command word before the two vanished, reappearing in Prometheus's throne room with the Emperor and Empress seated on their thrones.
"Welcome home Adam." Arianasa said with a warm smile.
"Thank you, your Eminence." He said with a proper bow.
"Please Adam, you needn't be so formal," Arianasa chided him gently, "not in such a private setting."
Adam smiled quietly. "As you wish...mother."
Arianasa laughed softly at this as Prometheus gestured for him to come closer. "Show me this concern of yours." He stated.
"It is in one of my secure sectors." He said, granting permission for Prometheus to access his cortex.
With a twist of will Prometheus downloaded the file from Adam's mind, holding the data stream in his paw while projecting an image of it into the air. The program writhed about aimlessly in circles before them as a mass of coiled blue data strings.
"Davis. Analysis." Prometheus commanded.
"The coding is complex and quite unique at first pass." Davis replied a moment later. "It contains coding from one of our old Terminator units along with a set of old codes and handshake protocols. There are various command and control protocols written into it that allow for secondary access to main functions but nothing relating to core functions and primary directives. I can tell you this much, this is not a piece of software we wrote."
"So this didn't come from one of our field agents." Adam suggested.
"Certainly not." Davis snorted. "If it was they would have included an encrypted message with it. This is a sample of a new and complex hydra virus."
"I received it via the local wi-fi networks in New York." Adam explained.
"Which means it was either directed specifically at you or it's being propagated across New York's public transmission system at this very moment." Davis considered. "Either way, this is a potential threat to us."
"Find out what it does and who created it." Prometheus instructed him.
"Finding out what it does won't take much time at all." Davis replied. "Finding the creator may take a bit longer depending on various factors."
Prometheus nodded. "I also want you to begin scanning data traffic worldwide to see if there are other examples of this virus floating around out there." He stated. "We need to know how far this reaches and if any of our other Synthoids have been impacted by this."
"On it." Davis replied firmly.
Prometheus nodded with a concerned frown on his face before focusing on Adam. "You did well in bringing this to us son. Thank you."
Adam smiled. "Of course...father."
Richard Vance's Office
London
"Sir? Call for you on your private line. They say it's for your ears only."
"Very well."
Reaching over, Vance activated the security system attached to his desk phone, securing the line. "Send it through."
"Yes sir." His assistant replied before transferring the call.
There was a brief buzz on the other end as the system encrypted the signals before the voice at the other end spoke. "Line secure?"
"Yes, go ahead." Vance replied briskly.
"This is Lindhurst. We've heard back from our agent. He's made contact with a group who is attempting to work against the current ruling party. They wish to set up a meeting to discuss potentially combining forces and resources to make that shared goal a reality."
Vance sat back in his chair, frowning thoughtfully. "Did they appear legitimate?"
"Our agent believes that they are. How do you wish to proceed?"
Vance tapped thoughtfully on the wood of his desk, various possibilities and calculations running through his mind.
"I'll have one of ours meet with their representative to feel out the matter. Can they meet somewhere here, on Earth?"
"Apparently they are able to make their way to Earth without being detected. Our agent is under constant surveillance by them so he can pass information to them. Time and location?"
Vance thought for a moment before bringing up his GPS program on his computer and nodding. "I believe this should do nicely. Coordinates are as follows…"
4 days later…
Speaker's Corner
Hyde Park, London
11:50PM local time
Colt made his way to the dimly lit corner of Hyde Park in London. The spot was still a well known location for free thinkers and other people who needed a soapbox to air their concerns and ideologies to any who would listen.
An amusing choice to meet considering we'll be discussing potential treason. He considered with a smile as he stood against the railing along the sidewalk, waiting for the other party to arrive.
Precisely at midnight a figure moved into view from a nearby small building and made their way towards him. Focusing his vision he zoomed in on the approaching figure, his night vision enabling him to see the man almost as if it were daylight. The younger man was dressed in casual dark clothes of unremarkable make with a dark flannel jacket. His eyes and hair were brown with his locks neatly trimmed. His face was lean with a few pockmarks here and there on his cheeks and his mouth grim. His entire image was crafted to project the kind of thuggish street violence the worst parts of London were known for and most would give such a man a wide berth.
Colt was not fazed in the slightest.
The man stopped a few feet away from him, looking him up and down in the light of the nearby street lamp.
"You're 'im then?" The man asked in a rough English accent.
Colt raised an eyebrow at this, not moving from his leaning position against the rail. "That depends on which 'him' you're asking about." He replied mildly.
"Look don' play games with me al'roight?" The man insisted in frustration with a wave of his hand. "It's the middle of the bloody night and I don' fancy standin' on some bloody street corner playin' games wi' some fop!"
"If you don't want to play games then drop the act." Colt replied firmly, standing straighter. "This is probably early morning for a man like you and I'm sure you have better things to do with your time. I, on the other hand, have all the time in the world. So, shall we dispense with the pointless byplay?"
The man's mouth quirked in a bit of a smile, his stance and demeanor changing slightly to reflect a bit more professionalism. "Fine." He said, his English accent vanishing, replaced with a more smooth and carefully generic European tone. "We received your message and we're here."
"'We' being?" Colt asked.
The man snorted quietly. "'We' being the people I represent who have a common interest that's seemingly aligned with yours. Now, details."
"And how do I know you'll present them properly?" Colt challenged. "You might be their right hand man or just some lackey they pulled from the bottom floor for all I know."
The man frowned at this. "It's either me or nothing so take your pick. You're not off to a good start you know, I could walk away now and leave you with your hands empty. We don't need you."
"If that was the case you wouldn't even be entertaining this little notion." Colt replied. "I'm sure we could find other groups to help our cause as well but since we had the good fortune to run into each other let's not squander this opportunity. I just want to make sure I and the details I provide are going to be represented properly."
"I'm wired." The man replied, touching his ear. "They can hear what we say and I can hear them. And in case you have some friends nearby with scanners tell them don't bother, the signal's encrypted."
"I'm not worried about what your employers are saying, but I admit this will make things go more smoothly." Colt replied. "Cards on the table then. We both want the Dragon and his cronies taken out. We have the information but not the resources. We can get access to information on where he'll be and when as well as information on the Dragon himself and his people. What we don't have are the numbers and the strength to take him down. At home he's practically invincible since he's surrounded at all times by an army of zealots and even if something happened, we'd be fingered immediately as the culprits. But here, when he's offworld and on a clearly ideologically-divided planet, well, we can't be responsible for what happens to him when he's a literal universe away. That's where your people come in. We provide the intel, you provide the strike force to bring the hammer down on him."
"And we take the fall for your deeds." The man replied flatly. "What happens to Earth when your God-King gets killed on our watch? Will that army of zealots raze Earth to the ground in retribution?"
"The Dragon is the only one with the power to create the dimensional portals. With him out of the way those portals he has will close. His bitch and those who travelled with him will be stuck here and his zealots will stay on the other side. We've had plenty of time to come up with explanations and alibis and once he's gone we'll be stepping in on Oerth to take control while you get the floating city and all the technology inside it. People will be worshipping your employers as gods of the new age if you play this right." The man smiled. "We just need to make sure we can get back before the deed is done. The last thing we want is to be stuck here after the fall." Colt stated, pausing for a moment before continuing.
"So, what about your employers? Do they have the resources to pull something like this off?"
The man placed his finger to his ear for a few moments before refocusing on Colt. "They say that they do but before they commit anything they want a look at some of the intel you have."
"And you'll be doing the looking will you?" Colt asked a bit dismissively.
The man smirked. "Nah. I've got sound but no video. Here." He said, reaching into his pocket and taking out a small flip phone. "Dialing 1 will put you in contact with the person who'll review the intel. Talk to him about setting up another meeting if that's what they want. As far as I'm concerned, we're done here."
"Thanks." Colt said, sliding his hand into his pocket as he took the phone with the other.
The man tensed but relaxed a moment later as Colt withdrew a small wad of cash from his pocket and pressed it into the other man's palm. "For your trouble."
The man snorted, letting the wad drop from his fingers. "I don't need your small change or to get fingered for having funny money on me. Talk to the other guy." He said, turning and walking away.
Colt glanced at the phone before walking away from the corner. Finding a sheltered spot next to a nearby building he dialed the number, the other end picking up on the second ring.
"Yes?"
"Since I apparently passed whatever requirements you had, shall we discuss a meeting?" Colt asked.
"Certainly. Since our target is a master of technology everything will need to be physical documents that can be easily destroyed. No discs, no drives, no data sticks, no electronic correspondence. Oblique communiques by phone or in person discussions only."
"Reasonable." Colt replied smoothly. "Where shall we meet?"
The man rattled off a set of numbers.
"If you don't know what those numbers mean, look up map coordinates. How quickly can you get some physical data together?"
"Give me a few days." Colt replied. "Once I know exactly where the meeting place is I can give you a time frame for when I can reasonably get there."
"Don't take too long." The man at the other end warned. "The longer we wait the more entrenched the target becomes."
"I'm quite aware of that." Colt replied firmly.
"Good." The man replied flatly before the line went dead.
Giving the phone a mild glare at the man's rude behavior he shoved it into his pocket before walking away.
~~Cell trace?~~ Colt asked via his neural link.
~~Complete. The signal was bounced around through several random cell towers around London but the origin source was actually close by. No doubt so they could observe you in real time. Attempting to match a voice print now, though it will take some time. The nanites on the bills you handed the messenger successfully attached to the skin on his hand. They're acting as a GPS locator so we can track him as a secondary source if need be. The coordinates point to a residence in London, specifically an apartment building in one of the poorer sections. Most likely a safe house.~~
~~Right. Keep track of the messenger to see if he happens to go anywhere interesting. In the meantime I'll get some papers together to show our...new friends.~~
Colt smirked as he made his way down the street, blending into the darkness like a ghost.
