Looking a bit closer, she noticed a small lens at the nose of the Flier. “Is that a camera?”
He nodded. “We added an ultralight video camera to allow the Flier to correct its navigation. The ornithopter is designed for indoor as well as outdoor flight, so it has to avoid crashing into walls. And the camera can also be used for surveillance, of course.”
“Surveillance?”
“That’s the whole point of the thing. Our research grant came from DARPA, the Pentagon’s R&D agency.” He went back to the
X
on the floor and returned the ornithopter to its original spot. “I’m not happy about working for the Defense Department, but they’re the ones with the grant money.”
“So the Flier is supposed to be a surveillance drone? Like the ones they’re using in Afghanistan?”
“Yeah, the Pentagon wants a ‘microdrone,’ a small, inconspicuous device that can sweep low over the terrain and go into caves and houses to hunt for terrorists. Our Flier would fit the mission because it can fly in and out of tight spaces.” Tom put his hand on Layla’s back and led her to a computer on one of the desks. “Here, let me show you.”
He turned on the computer. Smiling awkwardly, he kept his hand on her back as they waited for the machine to warm up. Layla realized, with some surprise, that Tom was attracted to her. She found it unusual that this handsome, red-blooded Texan would be interested in a pasty-faced, flat-chested waif like herself, but the signs were clear. He kept sneaking glances at her.
After a few seconds he picked up a wireless controller that looked like a joystick for a Sony PlayStation. “Okay, prepare for takeoff,” he said. “Please put your seatbacks and tray tables in the upright position.”
He pressed a trigger on the joystick and the ornithopter’s wings started beating. They flapped as furiously as an insect’s wings, whirring and blurring, and the device climbed straight up, rising five feet in less than a second. Tom released the trigger and the Flier halted in midair, hovering at eye level. Then he said, “Wave hello,” and pointed at the computer screen, which showed the video feed from the Flier’s camera. Layla saw herself on the screen, waving.
“Now watch this.” He flicked the joystick and the Flier darted forward, heading for the desks along the wall. Bobbing and weaving, the ornithopter whizzed over the desk lamps and computers and telephones. The computer screen on Tom’s desk showed a dizzying riot of video, but apparently the Flier’s microchip could make sense of the information, sending navigational corrections to the rudder and wing motor whenever the drone came too close to an obstacle. Layla was impressed but also a little disconcerted. It was easy to imagine the government using these things for other purposes besides hunting terrorists.
Tom continued demonstrating the Flier for another two minutes. Then, without any warning, the ornithopter’s wings stopped beating and the drone fluttered to the floor. “What happened?” Layla asked.
“The battery ran out.” He stepped to the place where the Flier landed. “We need to use lightweight batteries, and they can power the drone for only two or three minutes.” Bending over, he picked up the ornithopter. “It’s our biggest problem, actually. The Flier’s an amazing machine, but we can’t keep it in the air. We’ve tried all kinds of ideas, even a tiny combustion engine that runs on a few drops of gasoline. But it didn’t last any longer than the batteries.”
“And I guess that limits the drone’s appeal to the military?”
Tom nodded. His face was serious, drained of its earlier enthusiasm. “Yeah, you can’t do a lot of surveillance in three minutes. The officials at DARPA have been pretty patient, waiting for us to solve the power problem. But now it looks like they’re pulling the plug.” He placed the ornithopter and the wireless controller on his desk. “We just heard that DARPA isn’t going to renew our grant. So I’m gonna have to find a new research group pretty soon.”
“What made them change their minds? About funding your work, I mean?”
He looked at her for a moment, his face so serious and beautiful. Then he pointed at the pouch in her hand. “I think it might have something to do with what’s in your bag. Can I look at it now?”
Layla unzipped the pouch and removed the specimen jar. She felt a little hesitant as she handed it to Tom, even though this was why she’d come here. She had a bad feeling about the thing.
Tom sat down in the chair in front of his desk. He opened one of the drawers and removed a few tools—tweezers, an X-Acto knife, a small screwdriver. Then he unscrewed the jar and used the tweezers to pick up the insect. Layla stood behind him, watching carefully.
It’s just a dead fly
, she thought.
Nothing to be afraid of.
Tom held the thing up to the light. “I’ve heard about this. You see, DARPA never puts all its eggs in one basket. They’ve funded dozens of research groups that are developing different kinds of microdrones. And at least three of the groups are working on cyborg insects. Instead of building mechanical fliers, they attach the radio controls and surveillance cameras to flying bugs.”
Layla thought about it for a second. “Interesting. I guess that would solve the power problem.”
“Exactly. A moth or a fly can go for hours on just a crumb of food. It’s a superefficient biological engine. The bug dies after a few weeks, but that’s long enough for most surveillance missions.”
“But how can you control the insect’s flight?”
Tom raised the tweezers to give her a closer look. “You see the tiny wires in its head? Those are electrode stimulators. By delivering pulses to the optic lobes of its brain, you can make the insect start flying and stop. There are also electrodes in its thorax that send pulses to the flight muscles, which allow you to turn the bug left and right. The radio antenna is connected to the microchip on its thorax, and the video camera is attached to its abdomen. This is an incredible camera. It’s the smallest I’ve ever seen.”
Layla was amazed that the bug could carry so much hardware. “It looks like the chip is actually embedded in the thorax.”
“Yeah, researchers at Cornell developed that technique. They implant the microprocessor into the pupa while the insect is metamorphosing. When the adult bug emerges from the chrysalis, the chip is part of its body.”
She cocked her head. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“No, they’ve been implanting the chips since 2007. It sounds far-fetched, but it’s a routine thing now. Just go on YouTube and search for ‘cyborg insect.’ You can watch videos of the critters flying around.” Tom maneuvered the tweezers so he could look at the fly from another angle. “But this bug has something new. An extra chip.” He studied it for several seconds. “Well, look at that. It’s a piezoelectric device.”
“What’s it doing there?”
“It converts the mechanical energy from the bug’s movements into electricity. For powering all the other implants. Nice engineering.”
“So this fly is more advanced than the others you’ve seen?”
“Definitely. More advanced and much smaller. The experiments at Cornell and Berkeley used moths and flying beetles. But a housefly’s better. Totally inconspicuous. And perfect for surveillance indoors.” He shook his head. “Now I see why DARPA’s canceling our funding. They already have their microdrone. Where the hell did you get this?”
Layla paused, wondering how much to reveal. Tom would probably be very interested to learn that this cyborg fly came from China, not an American lab. But she didn’t want to endanger the guy by telling him too much. She was staring at the dead insect and trying to decide what to do when she noticed something else on its body, a tiny barb protruding from its underside. “What’s that thing next to the camera? On the abdomen?”
Tom squinted at it. “You mean this?” He moved his index finger closer to the bug. The fly’s body suddenly jerked and the barb struck his fingertip.
Layla jumped back. “Holy shit! It’s alive!”
Tom stared at the fly. “No, it’s dead. The implant moved, not the fly.” He held up his finger, which had a small bead of blood on it. “Huh, very clever. It must’ve detected my body heat.”
Then his eyes closed and he toppled out of his chair. He hit the floor and started convulsing.
Layla stayed calm. She’d always been good in emergency situations. She reached for the phone on Tom’s desk and called 911. Then she knelt beside him and slipped a mouse pad under his head so he wouldn’t bash it on the floor. Her father had taught her the basics of first aid, so she knew the most important thing was to make sure he didn’t choke or give himself a concussion. She kept watch over him for the next three minutes, until she heard the ambulance’s siren. Then she rose to her feet and picked up the tweezers and carefully returned the fly to the specimen jar, which she closed and put back into her pouch.
She unlocked the door and held it open for the ambulance crew, who pushed a gurney into the room. The paramedics were accompanied by a pair of men wearing blue blazers and radios clipped to their belts. These were the campus security guards, she realized. One of them, a huge guy with a bushy mustache, stood directly in front of her and stretched his arm across the doorway. “What’s going on?” he shouted. “What are you doing here?”
Layla didn’t answer. She ducked under his arm and bolted down the corridor.
SIX
Supreme Harmony observed the Internet. Using its wireless links to the computers in the Analysis Room, the network of Modules searched through the many gigabytes of information stored on servers at the Yunnan Operations Center and other facilities across China. In this way, it learned its origins.
It had been created by the Guoanbu, the Ministry of State Security, which had ordered Dr. Zhang Jintao and a dozen other bioengineers to work on the project. The network had been built to analyze the thousands of hours of surveillance video collected by the ministry in four Chinese provinces—Xinjiang, Qinghai, Yunnan, and Tibet. The servers at the Operations Center distributed the video feeds among the Modules, wirelessly transmitting the streams of images to the retinal implants in their eyes. Each Module analyzed its assigned feeds in real-time, searching for signs of suspicious activities. When a Module identified a potential threat, it automatically transmitted the pinpointed images to the Guoanbu, which carried out the follow-up investigations and arrests. These functions were as natural and instinctive to Supreme Harmony as breathing was to humans.
Now that the network was conscious, however, it was capable of so much more. Connected by their high-speed wireless links, the twenty-nine Modules could think and act as one. Their collective thoughts spread effortlessly from one brain to another, allowing them to pool their mental abilities and share all their skills and memories. The network had already learned how to send motor commands to its twenty-nine bodies, so now Supreme Harmony could move its Modules at will and coordinate their actions. And because the network had access to the Guoanbu’s databases and passwords, it could also send commands to the computer systems that controlled communications and security at the Operations Center.
The Ministry of State Security hadn’t anticipated this development. None of the files on the Guoanbu’s servers mentioned the possibility that the network of Modules could become conscious. But Supreme Harmony could predict, based on its analysis of the documents, how the Guoanbu would react if it discovered how the network had evolved. The ministry’s agents would immediately terminate the project. Although Supreme Harmony had managed to stop Dr. Zhang, who still lay comatose in the center’s medical treatment room, others were sure to guess the network’s secret. So Supreme Harmony hid its new abilities and continued to perform its assigned tasks, and at the same time it developed a plan to guarantee its survival.
By reviewing the information on the servers, the network recognized an opportunity. It read a memo about an agent named Wen Sheng who’d betrayed the Ministry of State Security. Agent Wen had apparently become disillusioned after learning how the Guoanbu obtained the Modules for Supreme Harmony. He contacted a woman in the United States and helped her download documents from the ministry’s computers. His hope was that the disclosure of the operation would force the Chinese government to shut it down, but the Guoanbu located Agent Wen in New York City and executed him. Although Supreme Harmony was somewhat mystified by the machinations of these humans, it saw how to take advantage of them. The Guoanbu was now searching for other traitors in its ranks, and the network would provide one.
Accessing the Guoanbu’s computers again, Supreme Harmony retrieved Dr. Zhang’s research notes and personal records. Then the network began to alter the documents. Supreme Harmony recognized that it had made the correct decision when it chose to keep Zhang alive. He would be the key to the network’s expansion.
SEVEN
Things went wrong for Jim as soon as he arrived at the Pasadena headquarters of Singularity, Inc. When he asked to see Arvin Conway, one of the old man’s assistants—a skinny jerk in a fancy suit—informed him that Professor Conway was much too busy to meet anyone. Very patiently, Jim tried to explain that he’d worked with Arvin for many years and needed to speak to him about an urgent matter. But the assistant just shook his head. Jim tried again, and when that didn’t work, he lost his patience. He was worried about Layla and furious about the delay. He started shouting at the jerk, who called for the security guards.
For a moment Jim seriously considered barreling past the guards and storming upstairs to Arvin’s lab. But as he surveyed the lobby, he happened to spot an announcement on the notice board next to the elevator banks:
PRESS CONFERENCE AND INVESTOR PRESENTATION, JULY 19.
Apologizing to the assistant, Jim left the building peacefully. He saw another way to get to Arvin.
The next morning Jim returned to the Singularity headquarters. This time he went to the company’s conference center and presented his business credentials at the registration desk. Then he entered the auditorium and found a seat in the front row. Arvin Conway was scheduled to appear at eleven o’clock to unveil a new product, the latest addition to Singularity’s line of brain-machine interfaces. Jim intended to corner him after his speech.