Then the news clip ended.
“Those looked exactly like the guys who attacked the lab,” Karl said as soon as silence filled the room.
Thompson seemed taken aback by the comment, whipping his head toward his friend.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Looks like the same uniform to me,” Maynard agreed.
“I’m sure,” Karl said. “Whoever attacked the lab was behind this shooting.”
Thompson’s brow furrowed. “That doesn’t make any sense. Wasn’t it anti-I.I. terrorists in the first place? Why would they attack a gathering of people who agree with them?”
“Because they were paid to,” Karl theorized aloud. “They aren’t anti-installers or I.I. supporters.”
“Then, who paid them?” Thompson asked, bewildered.
“I’m not sure.”
Just then, another breaking news alert pinged in their C.C.’s. Karl’s heart felt like it sank into a vat of liquid nitrogen and his breathing stilled.
“This just in: Miami police are about to hold a press conference. Sources believe details about the attackers will be released, as well as an update to the pursuit with the one missing suspect. Let’s tune in.”
A black hole felt like it opened in Karl’s gut. He had a bad feeling about the upcoming news.
The camera shot moved from the studio to a plaza near to the scene of the shooting. A minimalist podium was set up in the middle of the frame, and behind it stood an older man with a gray goatee in a senior police uniform.
He was introduced as the city’s police chief by a bit of text at the bottom of the screen.
“This shooting is being actively investigated as a terrorist attack,” he began. It seemed like he had said something before the camera was on him and the audience was joining him mid-sentence.
“One of the suspects immediately divulged some crucial information to detectives arriving on the scene. There will need to be more serious investigation before all facts are uncovered, but what we do know is this: the attackers claim to be mercenaries hired to perform this atrocious act rather than extremists themselves. Without hesitation, they provided a name which is believed to be connected to the attack.”
“Isn’t that just hearsay?” a reporter shouted from the audience. Everyone reacted with annoyed expressions. “Don’t forget the Boston Bombing!”
“Of course,” the police chief continued. “We would not divulge any suspects merely at the behest of terrorists, but the information provided was backed up by a recent discovery in the security systems of the Lower Denver Center of Cybernetics and Programming. At this time, we believe the attacks to be connected, possibly orchestrated by this one individual.”
“What individual?” a man even older than the chief hollered.
“Our current suspect is a former researcher with the Denver lab,” the police chief answered. “An I.I. psychologist named Dr. Karl Terrace.”
Karl’s blood turned solid. His mind began to feel numb. He could feel Thompson’s eyes burning on the side of his head, but he was too dumbstruck to meet the hacker’s gaze.
“We have found multiple pieces of evidence that suggest Dr. Terrace hired the gunmen to perform both attacks, using his own identification info to let the shooters into the lab,” the chief read from a report on the podium. “It is believed he not only helped the attackers, but was in fact the ringleader behind them. He is currently at large, though police are narrowing in on his position. Any information leading to the arrest of Dr. Terrace will be heavily rewarded.”
The stream clicked back to the host at her anchor desk, staring at the camera with what one might describe as a “poker face.” The psychologist sat in that numbing silence for a few moments, contemplating why they wouldn’t mention his previous incarceration and escape on the news.
Finally, Karl looked over at his friend.
Thompson was staring at him with eyes that looked like they saw his old friend for the first time. Karl could read the horror in the hacker’s eyes—a sense of wounded trust.
“Thompson, I had nothing to do with those attacks,” Karl said. “You know that.”
Thompson looked over the psychologist for a full minute, as if examining him within a police line-up.
“You promise?” he asked Karl.
“I promise,” Karl said.
“Tell him I can vouch for you,” Maynard whispered.
It won’t matter, Karl thought.
Thompson took another long, silent moment to watch his friend’s face. Then his own expression relaxed.
“I believe you,” Thompson said. “At least, I think I do.”
“I just don’t understand, why are they framing you, of all people?” Maynard asked.
Karl repeated the question aloud, then added, “Did you find anything about me in the code?”
“No, nothing,” Thompson said. “Though it seems the police did.”
“But how?”
Thompson shrugged. “Someone could have planted the info. Or there’s a rat on the force. Anything could be possible,” he said.
Just then, the report changed scenes again and drew their attention. Each shushed each other as they slid the volume up.
“An encrypted manifesto was discovered this morning, around the same time that Dr. Karl Terrace’s name became connected to the Miami shooting,” a tall white man with a fashion sense from a 1940’s catalogue said. He was positioned just outside the lab Karl used to work at. The police line that had once been there was removed, but the doors still appeared to be closed to business.
“Experts weren’t sure what they’d found until breaking the code about fifteen minutes ago,” he continued. “It appears to be a two-hundred-page document written by Terrace in which he attacks the anti-I.I. movement and the Humanity Party. According to preliminary examinations, Terrace aimed to frame the Humanity Party for the attack on the Denver lab in order to destroy their reputation. As a ‘safety measure,’ Terrace also detailed a mass shooting he wanted to commit in order to ‘crush the morale’ of the anti-I.I. movement and ‘allow them to be dehumanized for once.’ ”
The reporter carried a printout of the alleged manifesto as he spoke about its contents. Some of the words printed themselves out onto the screen as he read them.
“In the manifesto, Terrace goes on to say that ‘the anti-I.I. movement is
