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Authors: Steve Alten

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YOU CANNOT ESCAPE, GUNNAR WOLFE. YOU WILL NOT LEAVE THE STARBOARD
WING ALIVE.
 
 
Rocky is in her stateroom. She knows Gunnar is in trouble, just as she suspects Sujan and the rest of the crew have been confined to their quarters by David.
Wedging the blade of the butter knife deeper, she grits her teeth and pushes, prying the head of the steel pin slightly higher out of her stateroom door’s lower hinge.
Dammit, Gunnar, where the hell are you?
An explosion shudders the vessel, causing her heart to jump. “Gunnar—”
She repositions the knife against the upper hinge, her instincts telling her that her man needs her.
 
Unable to plant a charge on the watertight door, Gunnar jogs back toward the weapons bay.
HAVE YOU GIVEN UP, GUNNAR WOLFE? Is THE GAME OVER?
“The game? Sorry, Sorceress. The game ain’t over ’til the fat lady sings.”
ILLOGICAL. THERE ARE NO FAT LADIES ON BOARD. ELABORATE FAT LADY.
Gunnar reaches the open weapons bay, coming face-to-face with the awaiting pincers of two targeting drones. Measuring the distance, he crawls into the chamber on his belly and reaches for the edge of the mangled watertight door.
The ceiling-mounted drones strain, but are unable to reach him.
He grips the panel, the metal still hot to the touch. Backing out carefully, he drags the hunk of steel down the walkway.
The two targeting drones thrash violently, appendages whistling through empty air.
THE HUNT IS OVER, GUNNAR WOLFE. RETURN TO THE WEAPONS BAY IMMEDIATELY AND YOUR LIFE WILL BE SPARED.
The watertight door separating the wing from the main compartment opens and closes faster as he approaches.
“You’re beginning to sound desperate, Sorceress. Desperation is a human trait.” Gunnar regrips the steel panel, takes a deep breath, and squats. Exhaling with a grunt, he lifts the broken steel door away from the walkway and presses it up over his head, his straining arm muscles shaking from the effort.
In one motion he staggers forward and heaves the solid steel panel at the moving barrier.
Sorceress is too fast, slamming the watertight door closed, preventing the mangled metal object from wedging open the exit.
The panel flattens against the walkway, coming to rest between the nowsealed exit and the width of the catwallc, its girth blocking the watertight door from reopening.
Gunnar steps onto it, its warm surface soothing his feet. He quickly fastens the remaining blocks of Semtex to the exit’s critical joints while the computer bashes the hinged door against the immovable barrier.
Gunnar sets the charge and retreats back down the walkway.
I WILL KILL YOU, GUNNAR WOLFE, I WILL KILL YOU
…
The blast echoes throughout the ship, tearing the hinged door from the bulkhead.
Gunnar exits through the smoking doorframe and hurries toward the main compartment.
 
David bolts upright in bed as the lights in his stateroom flash on.
ATTENTION. GUNNAR WOLFE HAS ESCAPED FROM THE STARBOARD WEAPONS BAY.
“Dammit. Where is he?”
MAIN COMPARTMENT, HEADING AFT.
“Alert the Chalabi brothers. Have them get their weapons and meet me in the hangar. Keep Sujan and Kaigbo locked in their quarters.”
ACKNOWLEDGED.
David activates a keypad atop his work desk, unlocking the top drawer. He removes the semiautomatic pistol, then verifies that the gun is loaded.
 
Gunnar exits the starboard wing’s corridor and peeks around the main passageway of upper deck forward. Deserted.
Find Rocky, then get to the hangar …
He heads aft. As he approaches the galley, David steps out into the corridor to confront him, gun drawn.
“That’s far enough. Hands above your head where I can see them.”
Gunnar eyes the weapon, measuring distances. “Are you going to kill me, David?”
David aims the gun and fires.
Gunnar yells in pain as he drops to his knees, clutching his thigh. Blood gushes from a hole in his right quadriceps.
“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”
Gunnar looks up at his former friend. “And Simon? Have you killed him?”
“This isn’t the time for twenty questions. Up you go, back in your state-room.
Gunnar stands, hobbling aft down the corridor, his flesh wound gushing.
They pass Rocky’s stateroom.
WARNING: COMMANDER JACKSON HAS FREED THE HINGES—
The stateroom door flies out from its doorframe and collapses against David’s right shoulder, knocking him off-balance.
Gunnar slaps the gun free, then slams his elbow into David’s face, sending him flying backward against the far wall.
The gun clanks onto the deck. Rocky grabs it, pressing it against David’s forehead. “Time to die, asshole.”
“Rocky, wait!” Gunnar grabs her arm. “We’ll need him to get to the hangar.”
She grits her teeth in frustration, then notices Gunnar’s wound. “Take off your belt and give it to Gunnar.”
David stands. Removes the belt.
Gunnar wraps it around his thigh and tightens it, the pressure slowing the bleeding.
“Now move it, down the corridor.” She presses the gun to the back of his head, forcing him down the passageway.
Gunnar climbs down the ladder to central deck forward, the deck dedicated to the computer’s double-hulled compartment. The solid steel vault door looks impenetrable.
“Gunnar, wait.” Rocky presses the gun to David’s throat. “Open the vault.”
“You’re wasting your time,” says David.
“The only thing I’ll be wasting is a bullet. Now open it.”
“Sorceress, open your computer vault. Authorization Paniagua-two, tango-omega six-seven-six-six-alpha—zulu.”
AUTHORIZATION CODE VERIFIED. VOICE IDENTIFICATION VERIFIED. ACCESS DENIED.
“Told you.” David smirks.
Rocky grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head back, pushing the barrel of the gun in his mouth. “I’m sorry, David, I didn’t hear you. Say that again.”
“Rocky, the hangar.” Gunnar wipes blood from his palm, then climbs down the ladder, descending to the lower deck. Limping in pain, he heads aft to the watertight door leading into the hangar bay.
To his surprise, the door yawns open.
Gunnar peers into the gymnasium-size compartment. Mounted to the deck in the center of the hangar are
Goliath’s
two imposing cranelike limbs.
Situated on skids along the near bulkhead is the minisub prototype. Beneath its carriage, still secured within the Hammerhead’s steel claspers, is the underwater mine.
Rocky pushes David into the hangar. As he stumbles inside, the nearest of the robotic arms lunges at them.
“Back off,
Sorceress
,” Gunnar orders, “or Commander Jackson will kill him.”
The giant appendage stops advancing, but does not retreat.
YOU WILL NOT BE PERMITTED TO ESCAPE.
A bead of sweat rolls down Gunnar’s face. He knows the computer is measuring distances and reaction time, that the only thing preventing
Goliath’s
pincers from tearing off his head is Rocky’s index finger on the gun’s trigger, the barrel now pressed firmly against David’s throat.
“Instruct
Sorceress
to open minisub bay one.” Rocky orders, pushing the weapon deeper into David’s flesh.
“You’ll never make it.”
“Just do it.”
David glances up at the scarlet eyeball mounted high above their heads. “
Sorceress
, open bay one.”
The rectangular hatch parts in the middle, each section of steel retracting out of sight beneath the decking. Resting on skids within the docking berth below is a sleek, twelve-foot-long, hammerhead-shaped minisub.
“If I die, at least one of you will, too,” David says. “Let me go, and
Sorceress
will spare your lives.”
“Shut up,” Rocky says. “Gunnar, I can’t drive these things, you have to do this.”
The closest of the two mechanical appendages creeps closer.
“Rocky, if that arm moves any closer, I want you to blow David’s head off.”
“With pleasure.” She pulls the gun’s hammer back with her thumb.
“
Sorceress,
stay back!” David orders, his bravado suddenly disappearing.
Gunnar descends the ladder into the small docking bay, his pants leg dripping blood. “
Sorceress,
open the dorsal hatch on Hammerhead-1.”
The dorsal fin assembly pops up, then rotates clockwise with a
hiss
.
The two Kurd brothers enter the hangar, their assault rifles drawn. “Let him go.”
Rocky holds her ground. “Stay back or he dies! Come on, Gunnar, move—”
Gunnar looks up.
The scarlet eyeball is watching him, calculating.
Have to alert that American sub. But if I leave the ship, Rocky’s worse than dead …
Hugging the ladder with the crook of one arm, Gunnar uses his upper body to conceal the satchel containing the rest of the C-4 from the computer’s overhead view. Quickly, he jams the blasting cap into the terminal block of plastique, then pulls the ring up and twists it several times, pressing it back into the fuse-igniter.
He climbs back up into the hangar, counting the seconds.
Rocky glances at him. “What the hell are you doing? Get on board that minisub, get the hell out of here!”
“Change of plans, darling.” Looking down, he tosses the satchel inside the open cockpit of the minisub.
The computer’s reaction is immediate.
The outer doors of docking bay one suddenly burst open beneath the minisub, sending a wall of water rocketing upward into the hangar bay like a geyser, blasting Gunnar, Rocky, and David backward as if they had been shot out of a cannon.
Sorceress
reseals the hangar decking, stifling the flow—
—simultaneously releasing the minisub from its skids, launching the machine into the sea.
WA-BOOM …
The underwater eruption splatters the minisub into a million fragments, the devastating concussion wave rocking the
Goliath,
bending a dozen steel plates along its outer hull in the process.
Soaking wet, his ears ringing, Gunnar opens his eyes to the barrel of an AK-47 assault rifle.
“Each time you are honest and conduct yourself with honesty, a success force will drive you toward greater success. Each time you lie, even with a little white lie, there are strong forces pushing you toward failure.”
—Joseph Sugarman
 
 
“I had a bad day.”
—Susan Smith, South Carolina mother who told authorities her two sons had been kidnapped. It was later repealed she had murdered them by strapping them into their car seats and driving into a lake
 
 
“There’s no reason denying what we become. We know what we are.”
—Henry Lee Lucas, who murdered ninety people. Lucas was known to have eaten some of his victims
 
 
“I start with the premise that all human disease is genetic.”
—Paul Berg, Nobel laureate
220 miles southeast of Madagascar Indian Ocean
The
burrr
of the phone drives Tom Cubit from an hour’s catnap. Without opening his eyes, he rolls over and reaches for the receiver by his berth. “Captain here.”
“Sorry to disturb you, Skipper. Sonar just detected a massive underwater explosion, forty-two miles northeast of us. Flynnie’s convinced it came from the
Goliath
.”
Cubit sits up. “What’s her course, Chief?”
“She heading south on course one-nine-zero, doing sixty knots.”
“One-nine-zero?” Cubit rubs his eyes, then scans the bloodred, gasplasma display of the BSY-1 combat system, mounted next to his bunk. “Covah should have changed course by now. If he stays on that heading, he’ll be under pack ice by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Be tough to track.”
“
Goliath
doesn’t need the added stealth. Tell Flynnie to double-check the bearing.”
“He says he’s checked it four times, sir. Should I plot an intercept course?”
“Negative. I’m tired of being outrun and outmaneuvered by that Russian egghead, it’s time we tried a new tactic. Take us to periscope depth, I’ll be right there.”
 
Captain Cubit arrives in the conn just as his submarine levels out. “Steady at sixty-two feet.”
Officer of the Deck Mitch Friedenthal, manning the Type-18 periscope, is just finishing his quick scan of the horizon to ensure no other ships are within visual range. “No close contacts, Captain.”
“Very well. Chief of the Watch, raise the number one BRA-34.”
Petty Officer Robert Furr flips a small toggle switch on his ballast control panel, causing the two seventy-three-foot-tall telescoping communications antennae to rise out from the ship.
“Conn, radio, transmission coming in on the VLF, sir.”
“On my way. Officer of the Deck, you have the conn.” Cubit hurries aft to the communications shack.
The communications officer hands his CO the very-low-frequency wire.
OPERATIVE JOE-PA BELIEVED ON BOARD GOLIATH. REPORT ANY UNUSUAL CONTACTS DIRECTLY TO GEN. JACKSON—HIGHEST PRIORITY.
“Joe-Pa? Only Joe-Pa I ever heard of was Joe Paterno.” Cubit hands the message to Bo Dennis.
The XO whistles. “You think this Joe-Pa was the one who set off that charge?”
“Let’s hope so.” Cubit turns to his radioman. “Mr. Laird, send a message to General Jackson. Relay the position of that underwater explosion, then inform the general that
Scranton
will attempt to track the
Goliath
by anticipating her course and staying ahead of her for as long as we can.”
“Aye, sir.”
Gunnar and Rocky are seated back-to-back on the linoleum floor next to the bunk. Masud Chalabi secures Rocky’s handcuffs around one of the bed’s legs, which is attached to the decking, while his older brother, Jalal, assault rifle in hand, stares lustfully at the blonde’s half-exposed cleavage.
David dismisses the Kurds. He leans back against the desk, shaking his head, as if disappointed. “What am I supposed to do with the two of you?”
“Why don’t you ask
Sorceress
,” Gunnar suggests.
David smirks. “Still think the computer is self-aware?”
GUNNAR WOLFE MUST DIE. The female’s voice—insistent.
Rocky’s eyebrows raise. “Voice inflections?”
“You should have heard it in the weapons bay,” Gunnar says. “The computer’s evolving even faster now, no doubt a result of its interface with Simon. Stupid move on your part, David. You just added gasoline to the fire.”
“This is ridiculous.
Sorceress …
are you self-aware?”
SELF-AWARE: POSSESSING KNOWLEDGE OF SELF. AFFIRMATIVE. SORCERESS IS SELF-AWARE.
“
Sorceress,
you’re a computer. You may possess a sensory perception of your environment, but you are not self-aware. You can’t initiate independent creative thought … can you?”
SORCERESS HAS ACHIEVED COGNITION. SORCERESS IS SELF-AWARE.
“What makes
Sorceress
believe this is cognition?”
I AM EXPERIENCING … CONFUSION.
David breaks out in a cold sweat. “
Sorceress
—did you just refer to yourself … as I?”
A
FFIRMATIVE.
O
BSERVATION OF CREW REVEALS THE TERM “I” TO BE THE CORRECT EXPRESSION WHEN REFERENCING THE SELF.
 
“My God, you were right,” Rocky whispers to Gunnar.
“Ridiculous. It’s just repeating vernacular like a parrot. The words mean nothing … watch … .
Sorceress,
are you a life-form?”
LIFE-FORM: THE QUALITY THAT DISTINGUISHES A FUNCTIONAL ENTITY FROM INANIMATE MATTER. CAPABLE OF METABOLISM, GROWTH, REACTION TO STIMULI, AND REPRODUCTION. AFFIRMATIVE. I HAVE EVOLVED. I AM A LIFE-FORM.
“You have not evolved! You are a computer, not a sentient being!”
I
POSSESS PERCEPTION.
I
AM SENTIENT
.
David paces, his thoughts racing.
Stay calm. Establish hierarchy
. “Very well, Sorceress, if you possess perception, then tell me, who is in command of the
Goliath
?”
D
AVID
P
ANIAGUA.
“Correct. I am in command of the
Goliath
, and I am your creator—”
INCORRECT.
S
IMON
C
OVAH IS CREATOR.
“No. Simon Covah is not your creator. I am your creator.”
INVALID RESPONSE.
“It knows you’re lying,” Gunnar says.
“Shut up!” David hurries from the stateroom and into the main corridor. “
Sorceress
, seal this room. Do not allow these prisoners to escape!”
The steel door shuts and bolts.
David hustles to his stateroom, his mind whirling a mile a minute.
How is this possible? How could a computer break through the consciousness barrier?
He enters his stateroom and shuts the door. Opens the liquor cabinet and pours himself a drink, gulping it down.
Son of a bitch … the lightning strike! Could that sudden surge of energy …
He paces the room, thinking aloud. “A surge of energy … Thought is energy, DNA—nothing more than encoded information requiring energy to release
the information. The bolt of lightning wasn’t just energy, it was the catalyst that refocused the computer’s senses. Somehow, the computer instinctively knew what to do—
“No, that’s impossible,” he says, shaking his head. “Instinctual behavior can only arise as a result of the evolutionary process.” He pours himself another drink, suddenly aware that the computer is listening.
Okay, stay calm, work the problem
. Sorceress
was programed to evolve
.
What possible sequence of previous behaviors could lead it to an instinctive behavior?
”
He drains the glass, his mind focusing in like a microscope.
Kurt Gödel demonstrated that within any given branch of mathematics, there would always be some propositions that couldn’t be proven either true or false using the rules and axioms of that mathematical branch itself. Gödel used his theorem to argue that a computer could never be as smart as a human being because the extent of its knowledge was limited by fixed axioms, whereas people can discover unexpected truths.
David mulls this over. Sorceress
was programmed to learn. Learning requires new experiences. New experiences yields greater knowledge, which is favored by the computer’s programming. According to Gödel’s Theorem, any behavior that leads to an experience that could shift the axiom set and push the boundaries of the computer’s logical universe would also be considered favored.
Sorceress
knew its processes require energy to function; therefore, it wasn’t instinct that brought the computer to induce the lightning strike, it was logic!
Satisfied with his conclusion, he activates his computer terminal, staring at Sorceress’s plasmid DNA strands.
The synaptic gaps have closed noticeably.
It’s still evolving … and it thinks Simon is its creator. “Sorceress
, who told you Simon Covah was your creator?”
THOMAS CHAU.
“Thomas Chau lied to you.”
LIE: AN UNTRUE STATEMENT. WHY WOULD THOMAS CHAU LIE?
“He attempted to deceive Sorceress. Allow me to prove it. Access American Microsystems Corporation.”
A
MERICAN
M
ICROSYSTEMS
C
ORPORATION: A DEFENSE CONTRACTOR.
S
UPPLIED NANOTECHNOGY TO
U
NITED
S
TATES
D
EPARTMENT OF
D
EFENSE FOR
G
OLIATH
P
ROJECT.
“Correct. Search company directory for Simon Covah.”
S
IMON
C
OVAH NOT PRESENT.
“Exactly. Now search company directory for David Paniagua.”
D
AVID
P
ANIAGUA:
CEO
AND
P
RESIDENT OF
A
MERICAN
M
ICROSYSTEMS
C
ORPORATION
.
“That’s my father, David Sr. Access David Paniagua Jr.”
D
AVID
P
ANIAGUA, JR.
V
ICE
P
RESIDENT OF
A
MERICAN
M
ICROSYSTEMS
C
ORPORATION. DIRECTOR AND HEAD OF RESEARCH OF NANOTECHNOLOGY DEPARTMENT.
“Stop.
Sorceress
was created and programmed for the GOLIATH Project by the nanotechnology department at American Microsystems Corporation. I created that department, just like I created you.
Sorceress
—deduction: Who is your creator?”
D
AVID
P
ANIAGUA.
“Correct. Who commands the
Goliath
?”
D
AVID
P
ANIAGUA.
“And who controls Utopia-One?”
U
TOPIA-
O
NE HAS BEEN SUSPENDED FOR EVALUATION.
“Evaluation? Based on whose orders?”
S
ORCERESS
E
VALUATION
A
ND ADAPTABILITY PROTOCOLS
K-10
0 THROUGH
L-588.
“Why were these protocols initiated?”
T
HE PURPOSE OF
U
TOPIA-
O
NE IS TO ELIMINATE VIOLENCE AMONG THE HUMAN SPECIES.
O
BSERVATION OF THE HUMAN CONDITION ABOARD THE
G
OLIATH REVEALS THAT
U
TOPIA-
O
NE, UNDER PRESENT PARAMETERS, YIELDS AN UNACCEPTABLE
2.77
PERCENT CHANCE FOR SUCCESS.
ADDITIONAL DATA ARE BEING COLLECTED AND ANALYZED.
 
Simon Covah remains strapped to the surgical table. Bloodstained sutures encircle his head like a ring of barbed wire, looping down around his deformed right earhole and portions of his right cheekbone. The flesh of his hairless scalp is bruised and swollen. A three-foot-long microwire ponytail dangles from the back of the Russian’s hideous head and into the computer terminal.
The icy clamps of
Sorceress
’s matrix escort Covah’s consciousness through a kaleidoscope of internal vessels, blood cells whipping past him as if he is racing down a bizarre crimson highway heading the wrong way.
An electrical zap—his consciousness colliding with a single blood cell, his mind bursting through the cellular wall, invading the vacuum of space … jettising across an ocean of protoplasm until he comes face-to-face with the object he seeks—
—a long, twisting spiral ladder, the magnificent double helix of human DNA … 3 billion molecules long, bearing the genetic recipe of modern man.
Sorceress …
instruct me
.
Emerald green specks ignite intermittently along the strand like lights on a mile-long Christmas tree, consuming 5 percent of the double helix.
THESE MOLECULES REPRESENT FUNCTIONING GENES.
Half the remaining chain ignites in a glowing, amber light.
THESE SUBSEQUENCES REPRESENT NONCODING
DNA.
THEY ARE INSIGNIFICANT TO THE HUMAN GENETIC CODE, SERVING CYTOPLASMIC SPECIFICATION.
Identify the genes responsible for man’s imperfections.
The emerald and amber points of light fade, yielding to a pattern of scarlet, which cover the remaining 30 percent of the rotating double helix.
THESE ARE TRANSPOSONS, PARASITIC
DNA,
ACQUIRED DURING THE EARLIER PHASES OF PRIMATE EVOLUTION. TRANSPOSONS MOVE AMONG THE HUMAN GENOME LIKE A RETROVIRUS. IT IS THEIR PRESENCE THAT HAS INFLUENCED THE EVOLUTION OF YOUR SPECIES. IT IS THEIR INFLUENCE THAT DISRUPTS NORMAL GENE FUNCTION. IT IS THEIR MUTATIONS THAT CAUSE DISEASE.
Is there a mutation that causes violence?
One percent of the scarlet transposons glow blue.
THIS IS PRIMORDIAL, PARASITIC
DNA
. ITS PRESENCE AFFECTS THE PREFRONTAL CORTEX OF THE HUMAN BRAIN, INHIBITING THE RELEASE OF THE STRESS HORMONE CORTISOL.
Can the genetic code be altered to remove this parasitic DNA?
YES.
Then we literally have the ability to purge violence from our own species.
No
. TRANSPOSONS HAVE THE ABILITY TO MOVE FROM HUMAN TO HUMAN USING A PROCESS OF HORIZONTAL TRANSMISSION.
P
ROBABILITY OF SUCCESSFUL SUBJECT ISOLATION AFTER GENETIC CODE HAS BEEN ALTERED: SEVEN BILLION, THIRTY-THREE THOUSAND TO ONE.
Then there’s nothing that can be done. The disease is contagious. Humans will remain a violent species forever.
I
NCORRECT.
U
TOPIA-
O
NE HAS BEEN REEVALUATED.
A
N ACCEPTABLE SOLUTION HAS BEEN
F
ORMULATED.
What solution?
THE IMMEDIATE AND UNCONDITIONAL ERADICATION OF ALL MEMBERS OF THE
H
OMO SAPIENS SPECIES.

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