23
Fort Bragg, North Carolina
USA
I LIKE THE NEW DIGS,” Smith said, entering a room that didn’t look much bigger or more luxurious than a storage closet. Maggie Templeton frowned but didn’t look up from the laptop she was working on. Without her massive monitors and battleship-bridge of a desk she looked kind of naked.
He’d received orders to immediately report to this forgotten corner of Fort Bragg right after wrapping up his training exercise. The smart money was that it was General Pedersen screwing with him and he was a little shocked to see Covert-One making an appearance outside its Maryland hideaway. Klein—and by extension President Castilla—were clearly taking the Merge seriously.
Maggie thumbed behind her and Smith started obediently toward a doorway with a missing door.
The room he entered was slightly larger, but even more full of junk—stacked folding tables, rusting file cabinets, and even a few old footlockers. Somehow, though, Fred Klein’s presence made it all feel like polished mahogany and portraits of George Washington. The man had a way of creating his own gravity.
“I hear you got the flag.”
“I was down to my last man, but yeah, we won,” Smith said, falling into a rolling chair with a broken wheel.
“So what is your initial impression of the Merge’s field capability?”
“Well, I just took out an entire Delta team with one ranger and four noncombat personnel—a couple of whom probably get winded taking out their garbage. I think it’s fair to say that my initial impression is positive.”
“Then you believe this is something the Defense Department should be putting resources into.”
“No question. The advantage in a simple ground-combat scenario where one side has it and the other doesn’t is incredible. I proved that today.”
“Downsides?”
“Dresner has a fair amount of control. He could decide to walk away from his agreement and start selling it on the open market. Or he could flake out and refuse to let us add apps to the system. Is there anything we can do about that?”
“Probably not,” Klein admitted. “My hope was that we’d just be able to crack the encryption and keep that in our back pocket if Dresner tries to shut us out. I gave the NSA one of the prototypes, though, and they don’t even know where to start with breaking into it.”
Smith nodded. It was basically the same thing his people were telling him. “As far as him opening up sales, it’s a risk we have to deal with anyway. Foreign militaries are going to use the commercial version and we’re going to have to develop countermeasures. While we’re at it, we’ll be thinking about how to defend against military versions, in case they ever hit the street. Worst case, we get a significant head start on countries like China. Also, you have to consider that we’re focused on unsophisticated opponents right now and it’s going to be a huge advantage against those kinds of forces.”
Klein leaned back and lit a pipe. The elaborate ventilation system that he had in Maryland was lacking, though, and a moment later Maggie Templeton’s shout came through the door. “Smoke!”
He frowned and put it out. “You spoke directly with Dresner, didn’t you? What’s your take? Assuming he doesn’t stab us in the back, how hard is he going to be to work with?”
“It’s going to be a constant give-and-take. We’re going to lean hard toward defining everything as military-specific and he’s going to come up with fifty civilian uses for whatever we propose. The ability to connect directly to weapons is pretty objective, though. That’s never going to filter down to the civilian version.”
“So your advice is to bend over and take it.”
Smith shrugged helplessly. “’Fraid so, Fred. The world keeps moving on whether we like it or not.”
“So much for military budget cuts.” Klein sighed.
“Tell Treasury to fire up the printing presses because I can personally guarantee you that we’re going to want a hundred percent penetration in combat personnel.”
“What about the technology itself? Downsides and dangers?”
“Obviously, that’s something we need to evaluate, but I don’t see many. I can tell you from personal experience that the body modifications are pretty much irrelevant—a couple of days of discomfort that a few aspirin will knock out. I’ve talked to a number of top neurologists and they see no real potential for physical or psychological damage. The audio and video signals created by the Merge aren’t any different from the ones generated by your eyes and ears. We’ll have to guard against soldiers getting overly dependent on it, but that’s true of any technology: Guns jam, Humvees break down, planes crash. Basically, it’s just a question of what the tech gurus can develop and how practical it will be in the field.”
“You mean what you can develop.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ll be heading up the development of the Merge’s military potential.”
“Me? I’m a medical doctor, Fred. A microbiologist.”
“False modesty doesn’t suit you, Jon. You’re a gifted leader and an extremely capable scientist with extensive combat experience. Who better?”
“I really don’t think this is going to be workable, Fred. General Pedersen will go absolutely ballistic if I end up running this thing.”
Klein’s expression turned thoughtful. “And yet, the president still doesn’t care.”