“Chip Dawes,” said Peter. “He was working for you.”
“He thought he was working for Sasha Kolodny,” said Sally. “The famous Mad Billionaire.” She gave Peter a small smile of genuine pleasure. “I might have contributed to that misunderstanding. With Chip and a few other people. We spoofed Sasha’s email account. There are drawbacks to being a recluse, not wanting to do business in person. We actually track and control his entire online experience. That’s how we figured out Hazel was building the algorithm in the first place. Sasha hacked into his wife’s laptop and we went along for the ride.”
Peter thought about June and what she’d be trying to do. What it would mean if Sally’s people could see everything going in and out through the Yeti’s Web connection. Without knowing it, June might have handed over the algorithm already.
“What’s in it for you?” he asked. “Money?”
She laughed. “I’m a government employee, Peter. Not officially, of course, but I do work for Uncle Sam. I’ve got a good salary and a retirement account and that suits me just fine. Just like Wilkes here, and young Oliver. We’re trying to keep up with the Chinese and the Russians and the other information powers. This algorithm has the potential to leapfrog us several jumps ahead of them.”
“And what would you do with that?”
She shook her head. “Not my department,” she said. “That’s up to Washington. Although I can think of a few things.”
Peter could think of a few things, too. Some of them good, he supposed. Many more of them bad. And who got to make the decisions? The same kind of idiots who started the Iraq war, and screwed up Afghanistan?
He really hoped June wasn’t using the algorithm right now.
He looked at Wilkes, the Browning easy in his hand, regarding Peter with watchful indifference. Peter’s leg throbbed and his ribs ached and Wilkes looked entirely competent. Peter had nothing to gain but a few new holes.
Oliver observed the proceedings with neutral interest, keeping one eye on the path up to the outcrop. Lewis wouldn’t make it up unobserved.
There was nothing Peter could do. Not yet.
“How do you control the drone?” asked Peter. “You’re not flying it.”
“It flies itself,” said Sally. “I click on a target and the drone follows. The software’s pattern recognition is excellent. If the target gets lost, the software has very robust strategies for reacquisition. Of course, we already have some improvements in the works. That’s why we want the algorithm. We think it has the potential to allow the drones to make decisions, to become independent. Add a few Hellfire missiles and you can just imagine the possibilities.”
“Intelligent self-powered armed robotic aircraft,” said Peter. “What could possibly go wrong?”
“This is the future,” she said. “It’s coming whether you like it or not.”
“I thought you were an agricultural scientist.”
“I grew up on a farm,” she said. “You’d be surprised the places you can go as an agricultural researcher. I do like to get my hands in the dirt. But I was trained in intelligence.” The little tablet chimed. “Okay,” she said. “They just hit the turnoff. Mr. Wilkes, it’s your show.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Wilkes touched something in his far ear. Peter realized he’d never seen that side of Wilkes’s face. “All teams, look alive. Target has left the paved road. Repeat, target has left the paved road.”
“Take the binoculars,” said Sally. “Get a good close look.” She tossed Peter the heavy glasses. He picked them out of the air and walked out to the end of the cantilevered boulder.
It was a spectacular viewpoint. He glassed the entire valley. He didn’t see any other people. He imagined Chip’s Mercedes barreling along the river, trailing the Ford Explorers and a cloud of dust from the gravel road. The ridge blocked his view. They’d be coming across the one-lane bridge in a few minutes.
“Where are the carpenters?” he asked Sally. “What about the farm help, the other researchers? Are they someplace safe?”
“Mr. Wilkes is our security chief, but he’s also our farm foreman,” she said. “He grew up in Iowa. His people work in the greenhouses and fields, and also on the buildings. We’re expanding the facility, but we can’t afford to have people here without security clearances. This is a unique place. Sasha Kolodny has become a significant national security asset. You would not believe what that man is carrying around in his head. As for the research fellows, we sent them home a few days ago, anticipating what’s about to happen. They’ll be back once we’re all cleaned up.” Her tablet chimed again. “Mr. Wilkes, they’re approaching the gate.”