Nucleus and then out to the entire Element level. As a further hedge bet, Bill then had it all fly back out to the outer ring once again, as redacted information about this new item. This then allowed all 30 °Compounds to kick it around before shooting it back inside to the Element ring again. This looping of data and vetting by at least two Element class members kept down the wild, off-the-charts speculation that could clog a system. Yet, because Bill made his bones on “wild ass speculation” in The Eighth Day affair, he didn’t want it stifled completely.
On the technical side, this data ring was grand slam and whiz bang with the latest interconnectivity protocol, layers of protection, and some stuff private industry would kill for, like real-time link-up to supercomputers, big fat pipes to download hi-def, and 3D video and images in real-time, satellite imagery, and real-time geologic, thermologic, and electronic signature analysis. All of these tools and tech marvels sprang forth as the illegitimate love child of Bill’s shotgun wedding of a former felon in computer crimes — a character who liked to be called Kronos — and the best computer guy the government had. These two
Hiccock’s ex-wife Janice was an Element level member but he waived her $50K yearly honorarium fee paid to the members, to avoid raising eyebrows. His old schoolyard chum and ex-FBI agent, Joey Palumbo, handled interfacing with his former agency on the vetting process of members and was in charge of ring security for Bill. Even though Joey was a crucial part of Bill’s success in the last science attack, the Bureau had its ways. Joey had spoken above his grade to the then-Director of the FBI — in front of the President’s Chief of Staff, no less. His agency career ended at that moment. Bill dragged him kicking and screaming back into Washington, specifically for SCIAD.
Then there was one that got away. Bill would have wanted this person to run the whole thing, even over himself, but that was never going to happen. Rear Admiral Parks was a crusty octogenarian with a mind that beat out the most sophisticated evil science ever stumbled upon.
It was a great loss to the country, but she’d paid her dues and won her right to privacy a million fold. Still, Hiccock knew she’d have torn up the rings like a teenager doing donuts in a K-Mart parking lot.
To: all E and C ring members:
From: n
Looking for possible exploitation opportunities by enemies, foreign and domestic, of potential flu vaccine shortage. Focus not limited to vulnerabilities or soft targets, but to any and all ramifications that could be leveraged against us. Timeframe is loose. No specific threats or intel to support above, just pure spec.
The little scientific notation letters were a favorite among the scientific elite, so Bill used them at every opportunity. He allowed the red line of the retinal scanner, which was identical to all the others on the ring, to interrogate his iris one more time in response to his hitting the return key to send the message. This was a double way of ensuring that even if a person walked away from a hooked-up computer, no actions, downloading, uploading, or opening a file could occur without the ring system knowing that the cleared person was initiating the action. “Action Approved: Nucleus” popped onto the screen and then it went blank. The computer in front of Bill had no idea it had just handled ring traffic. The ring was an engine that treated any computer like a dumb terminal. All interaction and work done on the ring was accessed and processed within the ring. No cookies, saved copies, or backups to any local drives or servers. As far as the PC on his desk was concerned the last three minutes and fourteen seconds that he spent on the ring never happened.
Realizing he had two minutes until a staff meeting, Bill picked up the new legislation that spent the night on his bedside table and walked out, smiling with a little more pep in his step because of the way he’d spent the rest of his night.
At the meeting, he re-tasked his White House team to get all the pros and cons on the fast-tracked legislation ready for a position paper to the President in three days. Cheryl had stitched in an addendum to this morning’s agenda titled “Crisis Management.”
“Cheryl, what’s this last item?”
“Yesterday you disappeared. In the event of a real emergency you need to appoint an order of succession so we can still function and be of service if the President or whoever, needs Sci during the crisis.”
“Good point. Great point! I’ll work on a short list and we’ll kick it around tomorrow.” Turning to the others, he said, “Anything else? Good, then on with your day people.”
As he was leaving the room, Cheryl came over and gave him the look that meant
“Mr. Hiccock, I hope you don’t mind me bringing this up, but I have lived through a couple of White House crashes before and I thought…”
“Cheryl, I meant what I said. It’s a great point you made and I thank you for bringing it up.”
“Actually, I was hoping you’d make me your second.”
This is why he liked having Cheryl as his assistant. She saw things from the helicopter and very often from the ground up at the same time. “I’ll have to check if you would be eligible.”
“I reviewed the guidelines. I qualify and section seven specifies it’s totally your call.”
“Well at least you’re not pressuring me.”
“During a crisis, if you become President it will just be about running things and making sure information flows. We are not going to be entering into new science areas. I know the machinery and where and when to kick it.”
“Again, all good points. Let me think it over.”
“Okay fine.”
“Wait. What if I don’t choose you?”
“Then I’ll know you had a good reason and I’ll accept it.”
She got up and left. Bill felt uncomfortable but didn’t know why.
A little bell went off in his head and he redirected his attention to the phone on his desk. He hit the auto dial, “Hi Hon, listen I was thinking about the Indian place on K Street tonight.”
“Oh Bill, I don’t think I am up for it. I’ve been dragging all morning. What do you say we just stay in tonight and hang low?”
“Sure, Babe. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, probably just… I dunno; I am not really up for anything.”
“Good enough. I should be home by seven. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Alzir El Benhan was pleased. The handoff of his Chinese package, from the Sudanese government courier, traveling under diplomatic immunity, went flawlessly at the cabstand of JFK’s International Arrivals Terminal Four. Both men acted out agreeing to “share” the same cab to New York. Although the courier went on to New York, he dropped El-Benhan off at one of the low-end motels on the access road to the airport.
The clerk at the motel outside JFK greedily accepted his cash advance payment for a block of twenty-four rooms this Saturday, three days hence. In his attache case were twenty-two domestic round-trip tickets. One to each town in which the National Football League played that weekend along with a few other well-chosen towns, most of them with subways. The delivery of the jars shipped from Beijing to Africa and then to him was the last piece needed for Saturday’s meeting. Between Sunday afternoon and the morning rush hour the next day, their work — Allah’s work — would be done.
