Wired. Part 9

"No," said Desh. He considered telling the Black Ops officer that she had told him her goal was to recruit him to her side, but immediately decided against it.

"Did she explain away all the bizarre deaths and disappearances that occurred around her when she was growing up? Or the death of her boss? Or the murder of her brother?"

"She insisted she didn't kill her parents. The other incidents didn't come up at all. Neither did any mention of Ebola or bio-weapons. She mentioned terrorists only in the context of denying that she had any connection to them."

"I see. Then on what grounds did she claim to be innocent if she made no effort to refute the airtight evidence against her?"

Desh shrugged. "I don't know. Your men interrupted before she got that far."

"Let me understand. She wanted to prove her innocence. Yet after an hour of discussion she had not addressed even a single thing she was accused of?"

"That's right," responded Desh.

Smith took both eyes off the ruler-straight road and studied Desh for several seconds. Finally, apparently unable to find any signs of deceit, he returned his attention to the road. "So what did she talk about in that time?"

Desh sighed. "About experiments she conducted to increase her own intelligence. The theory behind it, the results of the experiments; that sort of thing."

Smith raised his eyebrows. "Did she say she was successful?"

Desh nodded. "She claims to be able to enhance her intelligence to immeasurable levels."

"I see," said Smith, noncommittally. "And did she tell you how she applied this newfound brilliance of hers?" he asked.

"Not a word," said Desh.

"Did she offer you anything?" asked Smith.

"Like what? Money?"

Smith studied him carefully once again, as if this would enable him to precisely judge the sincerity of Desh's response. "Like anything. Money. Power. Enhanced intelligence of your own." He raised his eyebrows. "Other considerations that might be appealing."

Desh furrowed his brow in confusion. "Other considerations? You can't mean s.e.x," he said in disbelief.

Smith shook his head irritably. "Of course not," he replied.

Desh shrugged. "Then I'm afraid you've lost me. But regardless of what you're trying to hint at, she didn't offer me a single thing. Period. Not a thin dime. Not that I could be bought in any case," he added pointedly.

Smith paused for a long time in thought. "Did you believe her story?" he asked finally, taking a new tack.

"What, about her ability to elevate her IQ, or that she was innocent?"

"Both," said Smith.

"With respect to enhanced intellecta"I don't know," said Desh, shrugging. His eyes narrowed in thought. "She's an extraordinary scientist, that's beyond dispute. And she weaved a very convincing scientific rationale around the concept. Autistic savants do exist and do demonstrate what one hundred billion neurons can do when wired slightly differently than normal. As farfetched as it is, she made optimizing her own brain seem possible, even reasonable, for someone with her talents." He paused. "Is she innocent? That one is easier. Of course not. Other than claiming she was innocent, she didn't provide a shred of evidence, as we've discussed."

The corners of Smith's mouth turned up in a knowing smile. "But she still got to you a little, didn't she? Even without providing any evidence, you half wanted to believe her, didn't you?"

"What I might have wanted to believe and what I actually do believe are two different things," snapped Desh defensively.

"I've never met her," said Smith. "But she's brilliant and I'm told she has a way about her. She can suck you in, dazzle you with logic that seems irrefutable, and do it in a way that's absolutely sincere. Not to mention that she has a wholesome, doe-eyed beauty that some men find hard to resist. You must have felt her pull."

Desh frowned. "A little," he admitted. "But I know what she is and my guard was up. She may have intended to provide evidence of her innocence. Maybe she would eventually have even tried to bribe me, but we'll never know. Your men crashed the party and all she talked about was her ability to make herself smarter." He paused and added sharply, "You can believe anything you want. That's what happened. That's all that happened."

Smith was silent for several long moments as they continued hurtling down the dark highway. Traffic was still spa.r.s.e but had begun picking up, ever so slightly, with the gradual approach of dawn. "I believe you," he said at last. "I conducted a number of interrogations in a past life and I think you're telling the truth. On the important things at any rate," he added.

"Good," said Desh. "So are you ready to take your turn in this little information exchange of ours?"

Smith considered. "All right," he replied. "First of all, we believe Kira Miller really has found a way to turn herself into the ultimate savant. And our experts seem to agree that, properly organized, there's almost no level of intelligence the one hundred billion neurons you spoke of can't reach."

"Do you have actual evidence of this optimization?"

"Yes. Most of it circ.u.mstantial, but enough that we're convinced. What you say she told you fits right in with what we know. It's interesting that she told you she gave herself this immeasurable IQ," continued Smith, "but she didn't say a word about how she applied this intelligence." He eyed Desh meaningfully. "If you had supreme intellect, what problem would you tackle?"

Desh shook his head tiredly. "Look a Smith a usually I'm up for riddles and guessing games. Really. But I haven't slept in almost twenty-four hours and it's been a tough day, so why don't you just tell me."

"Immortality," said Smith simply.

19.

David Desh sat in stunned silence, replaying the word in his head to be sure he had heard correctly. A flying insect slammed into the windshield like a tiny missile and became an instant smear. "Immortality," he repeated finally, shaking his head dubiously. "Impossible."

"Yeah, so is amping up your own IQ," shot back Smith. "And no, she hasn't achieved it. Yet. But it's only a matter of time. She has managed to double the span of human life, though. Not immortality, but certainly good enough to win the high school science fair," he added wryly.

"You're sure about this?"

Smith nodded. "You can never be positive until the first person treated lives to be 160, but I understand the animal and early human evidence is pretty strong."

"How does she do it?"

"h.e.l.l if I know. It takes an injection, repeated once a year. I have no idea what it does. All I know is that it slows aging to a crawl, so that a man of seventy will have all the physical characteristics and abilities of a man of thirty-five."

"Remarkable," said Desh in wonder.

"We believe she sees immortality as a three stage process. She's already completed the first stage. The second stage would be to design microscopic nanorobots that would be injected into the bloodstream, patrolling and repairing the body and replicating themselves as necessary. A vast army of tiny MDs. This could theoretically extend the lifespan five hundred years or more." He paused. "The third stage, her ultimate goal, would be set up an artificial matrix into which she can transfer her intellect. She could repeat this process any number of times. That would be closer to true immortality."

"What do you mean by an artificial matrix to transfer her intellect? Are you saying she plans to transfer her consciousness someday into an artificial body? Turn herself into some kind of cyborg?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe she'll just clone herself every fifty years and transfer her consciousness into a younger version of herself. And what we think she's trying to do may never be possible. Even for her. But that's beside the point. The key for our discussion now is that she has already managed to do the impossible: doubling human life expectancy."

Incredible, thought Desh, as he allowed himself to truly consider the earth shattering implications of this discovery. More than incrediblea"surreal. But as he thought about it, it all made perfectly logical sense. If he a.s.sumed Kira Miller really could optimize her mind and become autistic-savant-like in every area of thought, she wouldn't focus these transcendent abilities on solving pedestrian problems. No, she would go after the ultimate prize: conquering death. The ultimate Holy Grail of the species. And she was a genius in gene therapy even before any enhancements.

Now the journals Kira had been receiving at home made perfect sense. Human Brain Mapping. The Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience. Both would be quite useful in her efforts to rewire her own brain. But she had also subscribed to a journal having to do with gerontology, the branch of science that dealt with the aging process. Desh had found this odd at the time, but hadn't thought any more of it. But now the pieces of the puzzle seemed to be fitting together quite nicely.

Desh pulled himself from his reverie. "But if she was able to accomplish something like this," he said, "why didn't she announce it? She'd be recognized as the greatest scientist in history. She'd be an instant billionaire as well."

"You don't really get her yet, do you?" said Smith in frustration. "She doesn't get off on extending life or bringing joy to the world. She gets off on the opposite. Think Adolph Hitler, not Florence Nightingale." He paused. "Kira Miller has discovered the ultimate leverage. She can ama.s.s wealth and power beyond imagining. Every person on the planet wants to delay their aging. And she's the only game in town. If she takes her treatment public, anyone who pays for it can have extended life. But if she keeps it and only doles it out to a select few, she can acquire a level of power that goes far beyond mere money."

Desh nodded grimly. People had gone to extraordinary lengths throughout history in the pursuit of money alone, but that would pale to the lengths to which they would go for the fountain of youth.

"By using her treatment as currency, we're convinced she has a number of powerful people in her pocket already," said Smith. "Including a mole in USASOC." He shook his head in frustration. "Although it isn't as if anyone she's treating is announcing themselves. She controls supply, so if they do anything to cross her, she cuts them off. Bye-bye fountain of youth."

"Has anyone come forward?"

"Only one. And not willingly. A billionaire industrialist who helped finance her early on."

Desh pursed his lips in thought. "What about intelligence enhancement? Is she leveraging this in the same way?"

"Doesn't have to. Extending life gives her all the power she needs. As far as we know she's keeping enhanced IQ all to herself. Right now she's the goose that lays the golden eggs. The only such goose in existence. She can leverage the fruits of her enhanced genius, but why give up her golden-egg laying monopoly?"

"Makes sense," allowed Desh.

"Besides," added Smith, "she'd have far fewer takers for this therapy. People tend to get nervous about a treatment that screws with their brain chemistry. You can't make dramatic changes to the brain without risking irreversible changes in personality." He shook his head in disgust. "Others might not be as eager as she is to transform themselves into something not quite human."

Desh knew that if Kira was to be believed, she was far from eager to undertake any further transformations. In fact, she claimed to be horrified by what her treatment was doing to her and determined to never transform herself again. Whether this was true or not remained to be seen.

They drove on for several minutes as Desh tried to get his mind around the immense implications of what he had been told. Finally, he broke the silence. "Now I understand why you had the colonel make sure I didn't go after her once I found her. And why your men were using tranquilizer darts. You can't risk harming the only being in existence who knows the location of the fountain of youth."

"That's right."

"And if I did catch her, you were worried that she'd hypnotize me with her charm or bribe me. That's what you were getting at when you asked if she had offered me anything. You wanted to know if she tried to buy me off with promises of extended life."

"Yes. She would have had to convince you it really worked, have you talk to some of her other, ah a clients, that sort of thing, but I did wonder if she had at least raised the prospect."

"She didn't say a single word about it."

"I believe you. Perhaps she would have if we hadn't intervened." He paused and then sighed heavily. "But you see what we're up against. How can you trust anyone when she can offer them the keys to the fountain of youth?"

"Which is why you didn't share the entire truth with Colonel Connelly," said Desh knowingly. "And why you kept me under surveillance."

"Exactly. I don't trust anyone where Kira Miller is concerned. If you ignored Connelly's instructions and captured her, she could offer you the ultimate bribe to gain her freedom. At that point there is no guarantee that you would follow through and call us in. We didn't want to leave that to your discretion."

That could well have been her plan, Desh realized. She had told him her goal was to recruit him to her side, perhaps their discussion was prelude to her revealing what she considered the ultimate recruiting tool.

"I can't be bought," said Desh firmly. "Even with extended life."

Smith nodded. "Again, I believe you. Your military records show that you are a man of impeccable integrity, Mr. Desh. But even so, any man who says he wouldn't be at least a tiny bit tempted to drink from the fountain is a liar."

"Including you?"

"Including me," acknowledged Smith.

Desh pursed his lips in thought. Smith had referred to his military records and said they spoke to his integrity. But Kira had claimed to have made a thorough study of him, including these records. If this was true, she would have known how highly he valued his integrity. In fact, she had said that this trait, among others, was the reason she wanted to recruit him in the first place. But if this were the case, she would have known any attempt at a bribe, regardless of the lure, would have failed. So maybe this hadn't been her plan, after all.

Smith had cleared up some questions but many more remained.

"So what about the terrorist connection and Ebola plot," said Desh. "Is this just a fabrication? Did you invent it to get everyone hunting for her?"

"I wish this were the case," said Smith gravely. He yanked the steering wheel to the left to avoid a grisly ma.s.s of fur and blood the headlights had suddenly revealed ahead of them. "But I'm afraid it's very real," he continued a few seconds later, the car steady once again as the unrecognizable road-kill receded behind them. "And with her abilities you can be sure the attack will succeed."

Desh looked confused. "But why would she work with terrorists?" he asked. "It doesn't make any sense. What can she gain from a bio-weapons attack? She has all the money and power she could want."

"You would think," agreed Smith. "But apparently not. We don't know what her angle is on the Ebola plot. But rest a.s.sured, whatever it is, it moves her agenda forward. She's a far better chess player than we are. Just because we can't understand one of her moves doesn't mean it's random." He shrugged. "Maybe she plans on blackmailing the government to call off the attack in the eleventh hour. Maybe she wants to get in bed with powerful people on both sides of the war on terror for her own ends. We don't know. All we know is that the threat is very real and she's behind it. Stopping this attack is still the primary purpose of the Op, regardless of any other reason we have for wanting her."

Desh shook his head irritably. "That's bulls.h.i.t and you know it!" he snapped. "Getting the secret of extended life is the primary purpose of the Op." Before Smith could respond he added, "Suppose I had her in my sights, and I knew for certain that killing her would end the bioterror threat. Would you have me pull the trigger?"

"It's not as easy as that," replied Smith. "We need to know what she knows about the Ebola plot. Taking her alive could well be the only way to stop it."

"You're ducking the question. I asked a hypothetical. Would you support killing her if you knew, with certainty, that this would end the threat? Suppose, even, it was the only way to end the threat." He stared intently at the wiry driver. "Well?"

Smith hesitated. "It still isn't that simple. If you killed her, you might stop the murder of several million people, but at the expense of extended life for all of humankind now and in future generations. Where do you draw the line? Would you save two million people from dying an average of thirty years sooner than otherwise, even if you knew it was at the cost of preventing more than six billion people, in this generation alone, from living longer? Say an average of seventy years longer?"

"I see," said Desh in disgust. "So it's just a tradeoff. An easily solved mathematical calculation."

"Not necessarily. But there are important considerations that need to be made. Who's to say that humanity will ever have this chance again?"

"So if two million people have to be sacrificed for the greater good, so be it?"

"Look, the point is we're talking about a hypothetical here. It's unlikely that killing her will stop the bioterror threat. In fact, it's more likely that killing her before she can be interrogated will end any chance we'll ever have of stopping it. So no tradeoff needs to be made. Capturing her alive is critical to stopping the Ebola threat and to getting the secret of life extension."

"Maybe," said Desh dubiously. "But I doubt it. She's the only one capable of perfecting the virus they're planning to use. Unless it's ready to go, everything I know tells me that killing her will end the threat. But regardless of whether you believe that or not, just do me the favor of not pretending this is mostly about bioterror."

Smith frowned. "Even if I conceded your point, how does this change anything? Kira Miller is still out there somewhere, and we have to find her." He paused and then added pointedly, "And you could be the key. She took a huge risk capturing you. The question is a why?"

"I don't have any idea."

"Another move that doesn't make any sense," said Smith in frustration. "If all she wanted was muscle, she could have as much as she needed at any time. You're not wealthy or highly-placed. As good as you are, with her brilliance and resources and unknown benefactors, you had very little chance of finding her. Given everything we know, you don't merit even becoming a p.a.w.n in her chess game, let alone a piece of higher value. But the risk she took was uncharacteristic, so we must be missing something."

"I'm just as mystified as you are."

"I doubt we'll ever figure it out," said Smith. "Her enhanced mind can work on a plane that we can't come close to reaching. The question is," he added pointedly, "are you still important to her for some reason?"

"Why do I suddenly feel like a worm right before the fisherman sticks it on a hook?"

"Look, Mr. Desh, you represent an unprecedented opportunity to finally get a handle on this woman. We have to seize this chance. Will you help us?"

Desh considered. There was still something about Smith that he didn't quite trust. His gut told him there was far more to this story. But regardless of Smith's ultimate motivations, there was no question Kira Miller had to be stopped. And Desh knew that, alone, he was overmatched. And even if he refused to help further, this wouldn't stop Kira from coming after him again if she was intent on doing so.

Desh frowned deeply and then nodded. "Okay a Smith. I'll help you." He waited until Smith turned from the road to glance at him and then locked onto his eyes with a laser-like intensity. "But this time we're going to do it my way."