The Gods We Make Page 4

  “Did you consider asking them to share?”

  Sara’s jaw fell open. She stared at him for an eternity and a half. “You’re serious?” she finally managed.

  “Well, I don’t mean straight up ask them to give away their secrets. They unlocked something precious. Our governments haven’t been on friendly terms for oh, since I was about your age I suppose. If you think about it, all the back and forth has been about security. Not national security. Psychological security. They laid claim to vast resources in the South China Sea. From their point of view, they struggled desperately, as a people, to catch up to the West’s standard of living. Those resources secure that future. As a whole, we reacted to their aggressive territorial claims as a threat to the security of our allies and indirectly to us. We threatened each other’s security. Sara, what happens when two parties do that to each other?”

  “It creates distrust.” Sara gently bit her cheeks. “It creates the environment for escalating tension.”

  “Exactly,” Abel said. “How do you break that spiral of escalation?”

  Sara thought for a moment. “You reinforce the other’s security. But I don’t see how I can do that as the Deputy Director of the NSA.”

  “I don’t either.” Abel laughed. “But that is the real problem. The real solution is to restore a mutual sense of security. Since we can’t do that today, I suppose you want to talk about how we can spy on them. Ratchet things up, if you will.”

  “Did you have to put it that way?” Sara groaned. “Your point is well taken. Maybe somewhere down the line, I’ll be in a position to restore some faith. Today, I need answers.” And I need them soon.

  “Well…” Abel took his last bite of omelet, deliberately savoring it with eyes fixed on Sara. “I have been working with nanosats for the past year. We can pack a dizzying amount of sensor equipment into a tiny footprint. In fact, we have a whole swarm of them out around Jupiter, studying its radiation environment among other things. We could probably re-purpose those instruments into small autonomous drones. They’d be stealthy enough to avoid radar even close in over a major city. Or over a key facility.”

  “How large would these drones be?”

  Abel thought for a moment. “The size of a butterfly. Maybe a tad smaller.”

  “If they broadcast their data, won’t the Chinese pick up the transmission?”

  “That depends on how you send the information. We developed a few techniques that would help us transmit undetected. The nanosats beam information to a relay station using a precision-targeted laser. That lets us reduce their power consumption, but it would also make it difficult for anyone to intercept the signal. We could use that same approach to beam the information from drones to an overhead communications satellite.”

  Abel, I can always rely on you. “That sounds amazing. How long would it take to adapt the technology?”

  “Oh, hire a decent military contractor. It should be done in a year or two.” Abel smirked.

  “Very funny. How long will it really take?” Sara laughed and smiled ear-to-ear.

  “With the president pushing for this? Put the right man in charge, let him pick a team that actually knows what they’re doing? With the design and manufacturing automation we created for the Jupiter program? A month or so.”

  “A month? You’re amazing.” Sara put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll speak with the president this afternoon. You’ll be attached on temporary duty to the NSA by dinner.”

  The two talked of pleasant but inconsequential things for another hour. “Abel, as always, it was a great pleasure.” Sara stood to leave.

  Abel stood too and rested both hands on her shoulders. “You bring that young man around to visit. I don’t want to hear the word ‘no’ from you.”

  Sara glanced down and blushed. “We’ll see.”

  “No ‘we’ll see,’ either. Bring him around. I’m old, you have to listen to me.” Abel chuckled. “Take care, Sara.”

  #

  Sara’s plane flew high over Charlottesville. Her face was pressed against the window, each breath steaming the glass around her nose. Everything is so peaceful up here. So beautiful. And I’m so tired. It’s been a long couple of days. Heck, a long couple of months. Jake wanted to spend some time, too. She frowned, weary. I need sleep… He’ll understand. Won’t he? “Captain,” she called, “how long until we land?”

  “We touch down in twenty minutes.”

  She spoke in a tone her aiDe recognized as a command. “Tell Jake I won’t make it.”

  A virtual image of herself appeared in her ocular implant. The aiDe projected words onto the cochlear nucleus of her brain. “Your message reads, ‘I’m so sorry Jake, but I can’t make it this time. Catch up soon?’ Ready to send?”

  He’ll be disappointed. He was so excited to go on a real date. Did he call it a date? Not a date. An hour of quality time. Sara peered out the window. So many people down there, leading normal, happy lives. “Yes, send it.”

  Captain Hayes glanced at her from the cockpit. “You should take up flying.”

  Sara’s head snapped up. “Hmm? Who, me? No.”

  “I can see it,” the Captain said. “You have the bug. You stare out the window every chance you get.”

  “The view from up here is amazing.”

  “I noticed your interest on the way out,” Captain Hayes said, “so I took the liberty of flying home using Visual Flight Rules. VFR is great when you want to fly low and enjoy the view.”

  Sara perked up. How thoughtful. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Captain.”

  “If this were a two-seater, I would let you take the stick. If you like, I can take you for a discovery flight sometime.”

  “If only there were more hours in the day,” Sara said.

  “There are twenty-four hours in each day. The beauty is, each of us can choose how we use them.” Captain Hayes grinned in the cool, confident manner that only career pilots seem to have mastered. He spoke into the radio. “Washington Center, November Seven Three Tango. Requesting descent to three thousand five hundred feet.” After a few seconds, he eased the nose down and banked smoothly to the right. “I’ll take us low enough for you to get a good look.”

  Moments later, she could make out cars and people, tiny dots, going about their business. The Potomac River came into view and the plane followed the river’s course toward Washington, DC.

  The pilot radioed, “Potomac Approach, November Seven Three Tango. Fifteen miles south of GRUBY gate, VFR, inbound to Tipton.”

  The aircraft turned right, to the northeast. Washington appeared in Sara’s window. The trip from DC to the NSA campus at Fort Meade in Maryland would take forty minutes by car. It was ten minutes by air. Their path carried them over forested hills, rare for the over-developed DC metropolitan area. The sun glistened through the trees revealing a hidden stream. The aircraft flew in a wide arc, lined up with Tipton’s only runway, and settled down without the slightest bump. The Captain steered to the small terminal then shut down the engines. He opened the door, converting it to a narrow stairway and stepped out.

  Sara followed, resting a hand on his elbow. “Thank you. The scenic route was thoughtful. Who knows, maybe I will learn to fly someday.”

  “You’re welcome, Director Wells,” he said with that pilot’s grin. “Here’s my card for when you want that discovery flight.”

  Sara took the card then glanced at the terminal building. Jake stood there, next to a hover platform, with a tentative smile on his face.

  “Jake!” Sara waved. She nodded goodbye to Captain Hayes and jogged over to Jake. “What are you doing here?” A weary grin crossed her lips.

  “I planned to show you volunteer work I do in my spare time. The work still needs doing.” Jake glanced at the Captain then looked back at Sara. “Since we’re both here, why don’t you join me? It won’t take long.”

  Her smile broadened, some of the fatigue replaced with curiosity. “What’s this work?”

  “Yo
u flew over the Patuxent Wildlife Research Center.”

  “The forest? I saw it. It’s lovely.” Sara smiled again then pursed her lips. Stop smiling so much. I probably look dopey. At that thought, she had to smile once more.

  “They have a sensor network I help maintain. I thought it would be fun to spend an hour there. We can go behind the scenes.”

  Those puppy dog eyes. Who needs sleep, anyhow? “That sounds fun.”

  Jake pointed at a ten-foot-long craft, a carbon-fiber platform atop four electric-powered propellers. A chest-high rail ran along its perimeter.

  “We’re taking that?” Anxiety and excitement vied for control of Sara’s facial expression.

  “I hope you’re not afraid of heights?”

  “No, not at all,” Sara said. But maybe just a little terrified of flying on that thing.

  They stepped aboard, Sara close behind him, clutching the rail. It was warm to the touch and offered a solid grip. The craft lifted off smoothly and was much quieter than she expected. They floated straight up and, with permission of the tower, crossed the runway southbound. Sara relaxed her grip on the rail then let go. The flying platform was amazingly stable. They were exposed to the elements, and cold air streamed through her hair chilling her hands and face. She looped her thumbs through his belt loops and used his tall body as a windbreak. That’s better. Just in case there’s turbulence. Warm. Safe. What’s that scent? Cinnamon. Cozy.

  “You doing all right?” They were flying slow, mere centimeters above a stand of yellow poplars twenty-five meters high.

  “All right?” she asked. “It’s wonderful. Like flying in a dream.”

  Jake set down on a grassy patch next to a small river a kilometer south of Tipton Airport. He opened a cargo box attached to the rear of the platform and pulled out four disks, handing two of them to Sara.

  “What’s this?”

  He flicked his wrist, unrolling one disk into a wader. “So you don’t get your work clothes wet. Besides, the water’s pretty cold.”

  “Water?”

  “Yep. We’re going to check up on the American Shad.”

  “The American Shad?” Sara asked. This sure is a unique first date. No, not a date. Quality time.

  “They’re a migratory fish that spends most of their life in the Atlantic Ocean but return to freshwater rivers to…” Jake said. It sounded like something he had repeated many times. “Look at me, babbling on.” He blushed.

  “No, tell me. You mean these fish migrate like salmon?”

  Jake smiled at her interest. “Yes, that’s right. Our shad die after spawning, though the shad population up north can survive the trip and return to the ocean.”

  “Why do they need checking up on?”

  “Human activity decimated the shad’s habitat and threatened their existence.” Jake seemed like a man championing a cause far beyond his ability to repair.

  “I see,” Sara said, staring at the sun-speckled, gently rippling water. She pulled on the waders and stepped into the chilly water, running her fingers over its surface. “Do you suppose we could be someone else’s shad? I mean, what if there is some super-intelligent creature mucking with our environment, watching us, making sure they don’t quite kill us off?” She laughed, her eyes widening with amusement. That would explain so much of the intelligence briefings I get each day.

  “Wow, that’s deep.” Jake whistled. “But I suppose you could have a point. How would we know? At least, any more than the shad know about us. I’m sure some of them see us at the river yet can’t possibly comprehend how our need for water diminishes their rivers, or how the poisons we use affect their spawn.” He pinched his chin.

  “I didn’t mean to get all philosophical on you.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just a random thought.” She slid her hand across his back and grasped his other shoulder, then pulled him closer. “What’s the plan?” This is fun. Reminds me of fishing with Dad.

  Sara’s aiDe lit up. An analyst had a routine update for her.

  “Work, Sara? Can’t you step away from the office for even an hour?” Jake lowered his head, shoulders slumped.

  “I suppose I can,” Sara said. “Route non-emergency aiDe traffic to voicemail.” She smiled. “How’s that?”

  Jake smiled, too. “Wonderful. That’s wonderful.”

  “So, what are we doing for the next hour?” Sara asked.

  Jake stepped into the bone-chilling water. “We keep an eye on the returning fish. A few of the sensors went out, so we’ll replace them.” He stepped deeper into the frigid river. She followed close behind. His hands and upper arms searched for something below the water. “Here it is.” He pulled a transparent, spherical object a centimeter in diameter out of a pouch, placed it under the water, and pulled out a similar sphere.” He rubbed his pale white hands vigorously together. “Cold!” He turned to Sara. “Want to do the next one?”

  “Sure!” They walked downstream. An overlay feeding into her aiDe displayed the location of the next sensor. Jake, without her advanced technology, tracked their progress on a wrist display. Sara slipped on a loose rock, nearly losing her balance. Damn, he’s going to think I’m a klutz. He reached out and steadied her elbow. They walked another with arms locked.

  “It should be here. The sensor sphere is attached to a nanotube filament. Just reach around here until you find the wire.”

  She searched for a moment. “I… I found something, but it won’t come loose.”

  “Here, let me see.” Jake leaned in.

  Sara cupped her hands under the water and pushed up as much as she could, right at Jake. Water fight!

  “Hey!” he shouted. “Two can play at that.” He stiffened his right hand, reached far behind his back and swung forward, skimming the water. At the last moment, he brought his hand down into the river, raising a wall of icy wetness. It soaked the back of Sara’s head.

  She laughed loudly. “Seriously, though. I found it. Give me the replacement!” He handed her a sensor sphere, warily eying her hands. “It’s not easy to unhook the old one. My fingers are numb. Hold on…” She focused, staring at the water. “There we go!”

  He took her pale hands, placed a heating pouch between them then wrapped her hands in his. “How’s that?”

  “Better!” Her eyes were wide open, studying his face. “Much better.” They walked through the river for another forty minutes, checking on three more sensors. Her aiDe reminded her it was time to return. “Jake, this has been fun. More than fun, a wonderful change of pace. I haven’t had such a relaxing time in ages.”

  Her phone, which she kept as an emergency means of contact while disconnected from her aiDe, rang. Cyan letters spelled out Nancy Kido.

  “Oh, shit.” She held a finger to her lips. “Hello, Ms. Kido.”

  “Sara. We’re assembled in VIRCOM. Are you going to join us?” Ms. Kido asked, no trace of emotion in her words.

  “I’m sorry. I was delayed returning from NASA. I’ll ask Elena for a summary. I’ll be in my office in thirty minutes.”

  “Understood,” Ms. Kido said. She hung up.

  “Trouble?” Jake asked.

  “I need to get back.”

  He looked wistful. “Of course. You did warn me you wouldn’t have much time.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Really, it’s fine. I’m glad we spent the time that we did.”

  They climbed out of the river and pulled off the waders. Jake clipped the wet boots to the side of the flying platform. She held tightly to his waist on the return flight, her cheek resting against his back.

  The short hop was relaxing, serene. A respite from days and weeks of caffeine-fueled intensity. Sara let her mind drift, and she was at peace. The platform set down with a clunk. Real life rushed into her consciousness like a flash flood.

  “Are you OK?” Jake asked.

  “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “We’ll do this again soon.” He chuckled. “Maybe not this exactly. But we’ll spend time t
ogether.”

  Sara threw her shoulders back and smiled, not her trademark smile, but a radiant expression that came from deep within, from a genuine place. That would be wonderful. That would be complicated. She took his hand with both of hers. “Thank you again. This made my week.”

  China

  Major Long Wei pulled off his gloves and rubbed his hands briskly together. His breath turned to wispy clouds in the dry, frigid Beijing winter. A pair of military jets flew far overhead, the thunder of their engines no more than a muted rumble.

  The Major inspected a J-28 autonomous strike fighter parked on the tarmac of Huairen Air Base. Pristine snow was piled high on either side of the two-mile runway, four inches of fresh powder covering dirty ice chunks scraped away after the previous storm. The weather had finally calmed. Clear, cold skies watched over the fighter’s maiden test flight. A plow pulled onto the far end of the runway and pushed glistening white snow aside. “Let’s see now,” the Major said. He inspected every detail of the ten-meter pilotless craft, from nose cone to jet ducts. “Perfect, exactly as you left the assembly room.”

  A sinewy man with short, graying hair approached with long strides from the flight control building, each step crunching in the fresh snow. He wore the insignia of an Air Force colonel on a thick uniform coat. The man dropped a dark-brown cigar, stomped it out, and cleared his throat to catch the Major’s attention.

  “Uncle! Good of you to come,” Major Long said, turning to the man. “We’re conducting final preparations for the first test flight.”

  “As usual, you are deeply engrossed in your work.” The colonel beamed, satisfied. “Your work ethic brings honor to our family.” He removed his glove and ran his fingers along the leading edge of a wing. “This is a fine craft. Your leadership in this matter created a significant advantage for the People's Liberation Army Air Force.”