Wired (16 page)

“Dad!” Matthew's voice boomed out from the remote speakers attached to the kitchen walls.

“Yes, son. The entire family is sitting here around the table.”

“Listen, everyone! I've discovered the most amazing things that I've ever heard.”

Mary looked at her father. Graham's face had switched from the dismal look of despair to a flash of optimism. What in the
world was Matthew talking about? She frowned.

“I went to a meeting with a girl I knew from high school,” Jeff said. “They call themselves the New Seekers. Wow! You won't
believe what I learned. I need to talk to the whole family as soon as possible.”

Her father leaned forward. “Sure, Matt. We want to hear the complete story. When can you come home?”

“I've got to study for a test tonight. Is tomorrow night too soon?”

Graham laughed. “Not for us! We've been sitting here hoping that someone could tell us something to clarify what is going
on out there. You heard about what happened at Harding School today?”

“No. I've been in the library all afternoon and haven't seen a television.”

“You'll see the news on television tonight. I'll tell you my version tomorrow.”

“How about seven o'clock tomorrow?” Matt asked.

“We'll be looking forward to seeing you,” Graham said. “Take care.” He clicked the phone off.

“Let's hope Matthew has learned something important for us,” Graham said. “Maybe this is the spark we've been looking for.”

Mary didn't like Matthew's ideas in general and this one didn't sound encouraging to her. Maybe she could find some way to
avoid being at home tomorrow night. She had twenty-four hours to work it out and would start immediately looking for the exit
door.

S
INCE MARIA'S DEMISE
and the school attack, the possibility of unexpected death had almost become an obsession with the Peck family. Graham awoke
at three o'clock in the morning after a painful dream about the entire family getting lost in an endless maze inside an impenetrable
forest. The Metro train ride to work seemed little more than an extension of that nightmare. For two hours Graham struggled
to write various alternatives for the mayor to present when he spoke at a rally in the ghetto off the Eisenhower Expressway.

A loud buzz jarred him. Graham glanced at his computer. The red light on top of the small QuickCam video camera flashed that
someone wanted a face-to-face conversation. He switched on the Web camera attached to his computer and the screen sprang to
the life. Mayor Frank Bridges's face loomed across the monitor.

“Graham,” Bridges began in his usual demanding tone of voice. “We've got to do something more about these attacks. Your home
situation was frighteningly close to what many other people have experienced recently.”

“Really,” Graham said with a twist of irony in his answer.

“Graham, I think we need to guard ourselves at all times. Who knows when any of us could get hit next.”

“You are just now getting concerned?”

“Come on, Graham. I went with you to the school yesterday, remember? You know I've been worrying about these problems ever
since those terrorists' bombs exploded out there in Long Beach harbor.”

“Okay.” Graham nodded. “What's up today?”

“I want you to spend some time thinking about new ideas for how we can improve security around our city. Then, you and I are
going to have a private conference in my inner office.”

For a moment Graham didn't answer. Seldom had the mayor held any conferences in his inner sanctum. He always used the big
conference room. This issue was different.

“Something new happened?” Graham asked.

“No! I think the time has come to up the ante. That's all.”

“Okay, Frank. I'll be there in about thirty minutes.”

Graham flipped the camera switch off and the screen faded. He had spent too much time with the mayor, and developed a sixty
sense about whatever Bridges said. Something was going on and Bridges wasn't being completely candid with him.

Graham hit the buzzer on his intercom. “Sarah, please bring in my file on the Chicago city security systems.”

“Yes sir. I'll be right there.”

Graham booted up his word processing software and got ready to type, but he couldn't. An image of Maria's face emerged from
out of nowhere and he could only sit there, blankly envisioning his late mother.

“Here you are!” Sarah Cates came bounding through the door. “I think everything is here.” She handed him a computer disk.
“Hope this helps.” She smiled affectionately.

“Thank you.” Graham avoided eye contact. He quickly stuck the disk in his computer.

“Let me know if you need anything else. I'll be here in a flash.”

“Thank you,” Graham repeated himself without looking up.

The file opened, laying out various kinds of apparatuses they had used in the past. Graham studied the electronic devices,
surveillance equipment, and computer systems for identifying people. Thirty minutes passed quickly. Switching off the computer,
Graham got up and walked quickly down the back stairs.

“Good morning,” Graham said to the secretary. “The mayor is expecting me.”

“Certainly.” The young woman pushed a button on her desk and a wall panel slid open, revealing a hallway. “Please go on in.”

Graham walked through the opening and the wooden panel closed behind him. The hallway was covered with a thick-pile carpet
and elk horn lamps hung on the walls, but the corridor still left him with a sense of foreboding, as if he were only a piece
in some gigantic human puzzle. Ten feet ahead he walked through a large ornate wooden door.

“Graham!” the mayor said. “Come in, my boy! Sit down.”

Graham had not been in the mayor's private office many times. The large room had only a few objects, but the office had such
lavish furnishings that it felt daunting. Mahogany wallboards from the floor to the ceiling concealed the bookcases behind
them. Once punch on the computer panel on Bridges's desk could open up any section of the room.

“I want us to talk about an upgrade of security, a more comprehensive surveillance of our population,” Bridges began. “We
discussed turning to gadgets the size of one hundred nanometers to be painted on people's forehead. Brilliant suggestion!
I think the moment is overdue to crack down.”

“Yes sir.” Graham sat down on the severely stylized chair in front of Bridges's desk. “Why are we talking privately?”

“I trust you completely, Graham. I can't say that about many people today. Our considerations can only be known within an
extremely limited circle. Only my secretary knows you are here.”

“I see,” Graham said slowly. “I appreciate your trust.”

Bridges leaned forward over his desk with his hands folded in front of him. He had on his red suspenders and a tie designed
to give him an aura of power. “You will be only one of three people who know about the electronic surveillance system I'm
about to put in place.” He lowered his voice.

“Yes sir.”

“Most Americans are unaware that a couple of decades ago the government linked these systems together in an interconnection
that would assist in the technical prerequisites for a national surveillance system. Not long after the turn of the century,
the government came up with a program called Total Information Awareness that was operated through the Defense Advanced Research
Projects Agency, or DARPA, as the government called it.”

“I know very little about these matters, sir.”

“And you're an insider, Graham. Most Americans
know nothing
.”

“Of course.”

“During the last couple of decades, the government made remarkable progress in tying all of the information in these computerized
systems together.” Bridges leaned back in his chair. “The first generation of computer work was the simple transfer of information
across the Internet where electronic mail was sent around this country. The second generation increased the outreach around
the world via the World Wide Web.”

“I am aware of these systems.”

“But you never heard of the transformation of the Total Information Awareness project into the Complete Alert Complex?”

Graham shook his head. “No!”

“This latest system now connects computers to computers with the capacity to access data and sort out what is being communicated.
Buzzwords are fed into the system and any transgressions in those areas will come up in government computer systems.”

“Really?” Graham frowned. “Doesn't that tread on the invasion of privacy issues?”

The mayor shrugged. “We've been manipulating data for years, son. Is this really any different?”

“I think so, sir. We're talking about the ability to enter people's homes through their private computers.”

“And that's the beauty of the system, Graham. We now have the ability to check on what
anyone
is doing! It's like we have planted the big eye in everyone's living room.”

Graham learned back in his chair. “I take it this is basically secret material?”

Bridges nodded. “You bet!”

“How'd you learn about this system?”

Bridges beamed. “Graham, back at the turn of the century a software designer who also was the inventor of the Lotus Notes
operation came up with an approach that allowed analysts within government agencies instantly to share intelligence data.
Since then, computer experts have figured out how to break into isolated databases and access that information. They do it
all the time.”

“Frank, where did you find out all of this information?”

“That's one of the reasons I invited you in here today, Graham. I want you to know what is going on.” He punched a button
on the panel inlaid in his desk. Instantly an entire wall panel shot up into the ceiling. A strange, black electronic unit
sat about two feet off the floor behind the panel. It looked like the bottom of an old electric blender. “Take a look.”

Graham stared. “What am I seeing?”

“It's a holographic transmitter.” Bridges flipped a switch and a brilliant beam of light shot up out of the base. “You're
looking at a new means of communicating around the world on an extremely personal basis. We are about to talk to a person
whom you will see in three dimensions via laser transmission.” He stood up and slipped his coat on. “Now, doesn't that beat
anything you've ever seen?”

Graham stared in amazement. “You actually talk over this thing?”

“Not only do I talk, we converse with a light image like friends sitting in a restaurant, even though the individual is on
the other side of the world.”

Graham blinked several times. “Exactly what are you saying?”

Bridges winked. “You need to know precisely what my plans are.” He glanced at his watch. “We've got an important holographic
call coming through in a few minutes, but I want you to know all of this is part of a much larger plan. Graham, I'm looking
far beyond this coming reelection. I have larger plants that could possibly involve the presidency of the United States.”

Graham's mouth dropped.
The presidency!

“Many things have been happening behind the scenes, Graham. I have been contacted by some powerful people who want to push
me forward. It's one of the reasons that we need to win the reelection campaign by a big margin.”

Graham realized his earlier suspicions were being confirmed. Bridges hadn't leveled with anyone; the man was working from
another agenda altogether.

“And that's the reason we are having a conference today over the holographic transmitter. You'll note that the man's image
will be in color. It's time for you to meet the key player in this big game.” Bridges began pushing buttons. “You will find
this man to exceed your wildest expectations of what a human being can be.” The light shooting upward from the base of the
machine became more intense. “I want you to meet Borden Camber Carson.”

“Carson?”
Graham blinked several times. “You're kidding?”

“I realize no one knows what he looks like, but you're being given entry into quite a limited circle.”

The laser beam abruptly took on a greenish glow and a shape began to appear in the center of the light. A man emerged wearing
a coat with a high formal collar that buttoned around his neck like a Nehru jacket, sitting in a large leather chair. His
hair appeared to be black and his skin dark or deeply tanned. He was handsome add had black eyes with piercing intensity.
His nationality was not obvious, but he had a Mediterranean appearance that could have allowed him to pass for an Italian,
a Palestinian, a Jew, or someone of Arab descent. He smiled and instantly radiated a magnetism that drew everyone toward him.

“Dr. Carson.” Frank Bridges stood and bowed at the waist. “We are so pleased you could spend this time with us.”

“Frank,” the deep resonant voice almost had a lyrical musical quality, “it is my highest pleasure to see you once again. I
trust all is going well in Chicago?”

“We are having our problems, sir, but we are enduring.”

“You are a man of strength and cleverness, Frank,” Carson said. “I know you will be able to handle these trying times.”

“Thank you, sir.” Bridges bowed his head slightly. “I want you to meet one of my closest colleagues, Mr. Graham Peck.”

“Welcome, Graham.” Borden Carson extended his hand. “I welcome you to the fraternity of the Inner Circle.”

Graham felt himself being strangely drawn to this figure appearing out of the dancing light. “Thank you,” he answered awkwardly.

“Mr. Peck, these are most difficult times for all of us,” Carson continued. “Those of us chosen to direct the affairs of nations
must be armed with prudence as we seek to thwart the intrusion of diabolical opponents. I am sure you will appreciate the
complexity of these difficult matters.”

“Of course,” Graham answered.

“Sir,” the mayor said. “Can you update us on what is happening with this terrible war that has broken out with the Russians
fighting Muslim terrorists. We understand it has spilled over into Israel.”

Carson nodded knowingly. “You are correct. For some time now we have been concerned that our oil fields could be vulnerable
to attack. For that reason, we encouraged many of the countries in this area to arm for a possible missile response. The Russians
simply overstepped themselves and got reckless.”