The Pieces of My Self

36 - Remembrance and Resolve

NKUMBRA

LESA, 14 June 2174, Tuesday

William Nkumbra was in his LESA office wearing a sensor-free jump suit, inside the yellow-taped border of the avatar safe zone.

Was the safe zone safe? He wasn't sure.

For all his thoroughness, and despite three certified electronic sweeps, he still didn't feel secure. So, he scribbled with a pen on paper, wondering whether avatars could be vessels for Manglotte's madness. He decided to destroy the note. It would be too incriminating.

More troubling was the idea that a new version of the avatar was hidden somewhere on a dark network—a version that invaded and corrupted Mangalotte's avatar.

In early December, the year before Mangalotte absorbed Blackbird into LESA, Knightly had stood next to the president at a Christmas party in the Dome. They were on a suspended walkway above a circular promenade where employees gathered to hear their leader's speeches.

Knightly talked about how the company had achieved social and economic stability in Loumissala, and how, in the future, the country would dominate its rivals. His words seemed, at first, nothing more than brazen boasts—plans to be developed; promises to be kept; a future to be constructed. But after Knightly finished his speech, Nkumbra asked for details.

"We export electrical and computing power to the world," Knightly had said. "That gives a conduit for our avatars, and for control."

Nkumbra remembered being surprised by the statement. On the one hand, there was a bold assertion, almost hubris, that somehow the company's technology could invade other networks, enabling domination. On the other hand, the statement seemed financially reckless, and he told Knightly so: "If they discover us, we lose huge markets."

Nkumbra's memory was clear and vivid. Knightly had placed a hand on his shoulder. "We must be brave, my friend. They will never see us coming. They will never know it was us influencing them. I already have a solution under development."

He remembered thinking, A solution? I'm your Chief Technology Officer. Why wasn't I informed? Who is developing it? Did you create the solution yourself?

Knightly certainly had the expertise. And in his last year, the CEO had been delegating more and more duties to other executives to carve out R&D time in his private lab.

The man always seemed ten steps ahead of everyone. That worried Nkumbra. If Knightly had gone rogue, he could subvert the entire economy and social fabric of the country. And his creation could be autonomous and uncontrollable. Is it possible we're not dealing with a hacker who found a back door into the avatars, but with an intelligent, stealthy, and powerful agent able to hide its tracks?

The concern weighed on Nkumbra as he joined his Apate project team. Members were dressed in vintage "stupid" garments to avoid infection from the network. As a double security measure, they were working from a shielded room that blocked all signals except the ones they had weaponized. They were using the most powerful machines at the Agency's disposal, scrubbed of all traces of the avatar, and with a minimalist hypervisor operating system—one side monitoring the operation; the other side executing, as they attempted to expunge all traces of the avatar's cyber-DNA.

He studied the operational dashboards that showed his team was winning the war. But what if Knightly had foreseen their moves? And countered them? That was the risk in this game.

What made Nkumbra nervous was his upcoming report to Mangalotte about LESA's effort. He would have to certify the results with his life.

* * *

When the time came, he was sweating, even though the command center was a cool 65 degrees Fahrenheit.

On one wall, floor-to-ceiling diagrams described the systems the team had interdicted. On another wall, maps showed the geographic extent of the intervention. The attack surface was huge, covering the Loumissala mainland and islands in the Florida archipelago. Red, yellow, and green circles dotted a satellite image representing the severity of the intervention.

The picture showed a few surprises. The systems most heavily infected, requiring the bulk of the remediation effort, were within the arcology. Nkumbra expected it would be a target since it housed LESA and was the head-end of the national power and information grid. However, he had no idea the breech would be so extensive. He thought LESA's defenses would hold, but they didn't.

The other surprise was the absence of infection. The presidential palace, the seat of government, was virtually untouched. Nkumbra wondered whether this was a real result, or a trick.

Given the recent breech of security in the President's automobile—a breech that nearly killed Mangalotte—Nkumbra expected to find networks in the presidential palace penetrated. That was not the case. A puzzle.

The Dome was also untouched. It was where Knightly developed the avatar technology. A few of the research labs there still drew power from an on-site wind catcher. Maybe the prison site was a target of lesser interest.

The two quiet zones intrigued him. He made a mental note to continue to dig.

With one minute to go before the briefing, Nkumbra had a clear idea of what he wanted to tell the president. His full team stood by to back him up in the unlikely event Mangalotte wanted a technical deep dive. And the president's personal attorney, Tony Brown, whom he had pre-briefed, could discuss the political ramifications.

When the president's logo flashed on the video wall, the friendly chatter in the Ops Center died. The image of President Mangalotte filled the screen. Every person in the room voiced the oath of loyalty in unison, as if chanting the Apostle's Creed:

I am your loyal servant.

They all bowed their heads as a sign of submission, looking up only after Mangalotte gave permission to do so.

"Rise," Mangalotte said. "Tell me the status."

Nkumbra spoke for the team. They had decided he should say the words, since no one else would take the risk. "Mr. President, your avatar is clean. We are conducting final checks and should have it operational within the hour."

Strictly speaking, what he said was true. He was unaware of any counterfactual evidence.

Mangalotte voiced his skepticism. "Can I now trust the avatar with my life?"

Nkumbra remained calm, using tricks he learned at LESA to mask emotion. If Mangalotte's analytical systems replayed the video stream, they could detect uncertainty and lies through gestures, body language, heartbeat, and facial flushing. He had to be convincing.

"Yes," he said with certainty.

"You're sure?"

He knew his answer would be a nail in his coffin if proven false. Still, he had no choice. "The infected avatars are dead, Mr. President. We reinstalled clean versions."

"Very well. I will count on their integrity. Please inform your team I am grateful for their efforts. I hold you personally accountable for the success. Congratulations."

As Nkumbra watched the image dissolve on the screen, he wondered about his future. And he wondered whether Knightly's cryptogram held a piece of the puzzle. He wondered if the fix would hold, and he would still be alive a week from now.