Interface: A Techno Thriller (21 page)

"He was on an MI5 watch list but it's classified above my level of clearance. I couldn't find out why."

"So what
can
you tell me?"

Croft sighed. "I looked into the name Tantalus but I found absolutely nothing. Not in the police records. Not in MI5's databases."

"That seems unlikely if Armstrong was right and people died?"

"I agree. As I see it, there are two possibilities. One is that there was a system failure and the electronic records were lost or deleted. The other is that someone deliberately deleted them." He shook his head slowly. "What is this neural interface that Lentz was working on? Is it some way of controlling a computer with your brainwaves? Like a headset or pads taped to your forehead?"

"I believe it may have been more... invasive than that. An implant of some sort, though that's still just a guess."

"How does Tom Faraday fit with all this? Because he seems to be key."

"He is, but not out of choice. It started when he was abducted after the CERUS launch event. I had proof – CCTV footage – but... well, it was wiped and Tom has no recollection of the weekend. I think someone took him and experimented on him."

"And he didn't visit a doctor after he 'lost' an entire weekend?"

"He did. His name was Chatsworth."

"Oh."

"Anyway, his flat-mate and I persuaded Tom to get a second opinion."

"The doctor in Harley Street?"

"That's right. The test found something metallic in his head. Tom took off to confront Chatsworth, then everything went crazy."

"So you're saying he had some sort of experimental brain op? Even if it were keyhole surgery, surely that would have been apparent even without tests?"

"That's the part that doesn't make sense."

"And what does this have to do with nanotechnology?"
 

"I have no idea. All I know is that's what Armstrong was so worried about."
 

Croft leaned back in his seat. "Look, I'm on your side, but I need actionable proof. I need Tom. Do you have any way of contacting him?"

"Not that wouldn't risk others finding him first."

Croft sighed, looked around and stood up. "When you're ready to really trust me, give me a call."

"Wait." Kate reached into a pocket. "This is my gesture of good faith." She placed a small plastic box on the table. "It's what Armstrong gave me. He claimed it was intelligent nano. I was going to try to get it tested myself, but I'm sure you've got access to far better labs than I do."

Croft carefully picked up the box. "I'm not sure whether to hope you're right or wrong."

"There's one other thing I hoped you could follow up. If someone's making something like intelligent nano, they're usually making it
for
someone. There must be a customer."

Croft nodded. "Suddenly I'm not hungry." He pulled a twenty pound note from his pocket and threw it on the table. "You stay and enjoy. And try to stay out of trouble."

◇
◇
◇

Kate picked at the two plates of bacon and eggs, but her brain was buzzing too much to concentrate on the food. It was time to go somewhere less public. She needed to speak with Geraldine and work out what to do next. In her pocket, she tapped her mobile: the one that Tom had called briefly from his new burner phone. She had memorised the number then deleted it. Now she, and she alone, could contact him if it became necessary. Standing quickly, she moved to the rear fire exit, which she'd noticed was standing ajar for ventilation. She stepped through and onto the street, slipping on her cap.

"Hello, pretty." someone said from behind her. A woman's voice.

Kate spun on reflex, her muscles corded, ready for action. A flurry of movement registered. Her arms lifted to block the incoming blow.

She did not succeed.

SIXTY-FOUR

TWO SMARTLY DRESSED FIGURES STOOD in St James' Park, wearing long overcoats and feeding the ducks.

"Why here?" asked Reems. "It would have been simpler to meet in my office."

"I wanted to give you a different perspective," said Croft, patting his briefcase, "when I update you on the CERUS situation."

"What update? I'm told the police haven't located any of the three persons of interest."

"They haven't. But I've been conducting some off-book investigations."

Reems frowned. "George, you know about my reservations. There's no need for us to make things even more complicated by treading on the police's toes."

Croft shook his head. "Why are you so resistant even now the situation has spiralled out of control?" He paused. "Why did you tell Business Week News to stay out of it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The editor had been told not to cooperate, before I even got there. Very few people could have exerted that kind of influence: fewer still would have been aware of a need to do so."

"And you think it was me?"

"I looked at your file. Twenty-seven years in the Security Service: an unblemished career during which you've risen to the highest levels. But there's a six-month spell when you apparently did nothing. Why does the blank part of your file coincide exactly with a CERUS project called Tantalus that also seems to have been wiped from the records? Curious that it seems to be cropping up now and
you're
the person who doesn't seem to want anything to do with it, no matter how many bodies pile up."

"That part of my file is classified for a reason, George. I understand your frustration and I sympathise, but you know you don't have the full story. Why don't you trust the person who
does
?"

"People are dying and CERUS is involved. We need to move on the Tower. And for that I need a warrant."

"Bring me proof and we'll go straight to a judge."

Croft reached into his briefcase and produced a metal case. He unhinged it and lifted the lid to reveal a small glass vial. "Intelligent nano. Produced by CERUS."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is it indeed?"

"The source is credible. Get it checked out." He closed the case lid and handed it to her.

"I will. But remember, all we have for certain is some glittery water and your determination to go digging into your boss's personal file. I'll look into these nanites, if that's what they are, but we're overdue a serious conversation about your future."

"So no warrant. Will you at least let me try to join up some of the dots?"

Reems glared at him. "Cautiously, George. Tread very cautiously." She turned away and left him standing by the water. When she reached the road, she pulled a phone from her pocket and dialled a pre-set number.

"We need to meet," she said. "Today."

SIXTY-FIVE

SEVERAL HOURS HAD PASSED AT Lentz's hideout and they had achieved a great deal. Outside nothing had changed, but inside the barn was now considerably less barn-like. The van had been moved inside so as not to alert any passers-by. They'd emptied it of its substantial amount of computing tech and brought up more from the hidden basement, which held a range of supplies and equipment, including large quantities of tinned food, bottled water and other long-life supplies. If necessary they could remain here for weeks.
 

Lentz was busily setting up and networking a phalanx of computer servers and laptops. Standing ready for connection were a number of other pieces of scientific equipment, most of which Tom could only guess the purpose of. "I'm not sure if you're a scientist or ex-special forces," Tom said, peering at the nearest contraption.

Lentz stood up. "Can't I be both?"
 

"You tell me."
 

She took a deep breath. "I used to work for CERUS. Before that I worked for the government. British Intelligence, to be specific. Technical field agent."

"That's quite a CV."

"It's had its low points."

"What have you been doing since leaving CERUS?"

Lentz paused. "Mostly I've been dead."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "But now you're not?"

"It's a long story. And if I'm going to tell it, I need more coffee." Lentz searched among some cardboard boxes then pounced on a small one and tore off the tape sealing it. Reaching in, she removed a percolator.

"Filter coffee?"
 

She looked at him. "I know you're probably an espresso child, but this is the best I have."

"I just haven't seen one in a long time."

"The way we do things changes when we learn better ways. Although sometimes better is a matter of perspective: something that is particularly relevant to your situation."

"What do you mean by that?"

She didn't reply, instead taking the glass jug over to a grimy looking sink and turning the tap. There was an alarming banging sound, but the water ran out clear.

"Well?" he said.

"How are you feeling, Tom? How is your head?"

"It's fine. Can I take this tinfoil hat off yet?"

"I need to perform a procedure first."

Tom flinched back. "Like the one that got me into this mess?"

"No, no. Nothing invasive." She emptied the jug into the percolator then added filter paper and coffee and switched it on. Coffee started to drip through almost immediately. "OK, the smell is enough for starters. Why don't you sit down and I'll tell you what I know."

Tom found a chair and lowered himself into it.

"Twenty-five years ago," Lentz said, "I worked for MI5. I had quite a promising career. But in a moment of madness I was tempted to join the private sector."

"You sold out?"

Lentz gave him a glare. "I was enticed to join what was then just an exciting start-up. The company was called CERUS Biotech and the men who recruited me were a silver-tongued young entrepreneur named William Bern and his head of research, Stefan Heidn. They had been commissioned to develop a Brain-Computer Interface, or BCI, and needed a technical team leader. It was a radical new idea, very expensive, very controversial."

"Brain-Computer Interface? Sounds like science fiction?"

"Twenty-five years ago, it was. Now, not so much, but the systems that exist are still rudimentary and unidirectional. The project, which was codenamed Tantalus, began well. Immodestly, we were brilliant and soon developed a solution: a microchip that could be wired directly into the brain. But someone authorised testing before we were ready and all four test-subjects died after implantation. As a result, the whole project was shut down. The client pulled the funding and ordered all the records to be destroyed." The coffee percolator had finished its cycle and Lentz paused while she poured them each a cup of the thick brew. "Despite this colossal set-back, CERUS' subsequent growth was stratospheric and Bern became a billionaire. Tantalus was forgotten until a few weeks back when something caused CERUS to start the project up again."

"But how? You said the files had been deleted."

"Apparently not. One of my former team members discovered this and was going to go public."

Tom swallowed. "You mean Richard Armstrong."

Lentz nodded. "I don't think he anticipated what he had stirred up." She sipped from her coffee. "From files he left behind I learned that CERUS has created a new version of Project Tantalus using a radical approach. Instead of inserting a microchip, they were using another cancelled CERUS project involving nanotech to solve the problem. You see, the nano project wasn't cancelled because it had failed: it was blocked by the regulator – something that's happened to them quite a bit over the years."

"So what is Tantalus about?"

"Tantalus is about dealing with the problem of inefficiency in communicating with computers. Instead of using a keyboard or a touch screen or even speech recognition, you just think what you want the computer to do. Even today, 90% of the time you spend using your computer is wasted." She paused. "And I don't mean gaming, where 100% of your time is wasted."

"So they're going to sell it to computer manufacturers?"

"Tantalus has many uses, but the most lucrative are military in nature. And when I say lucrative, I mean enough to make even Bern salivate."

"So what's the crossover between nano and Tantalus?"

"Instead of inserting a chip, as in the original Tantalus, they're injecting subjects with a quantity of pre-programmed nanites, feeding them with raw materials and then allowing these tiny machines to construct the interface inside the subjects' heads. It's far more precise and doesn't involve surgery."
 

"But what's to stop the nanites getting out of control?"

"It's all in the programming of their base code. Kind of like Asimov's Three Robotic Laws on a micro level. There are certain things they fundamentally cannot do. But that doesn't mean the concept was infallible even through they've already been implanted in four new subjects."

"Three other people like me?"

"
Four
other people: volunteers who didn't understand what they were really signing up for. But before they started testing on the four subjects, there was an initial 'proof of concept' phase involving a Subject Zero."

Tom stared at her.

Lentz sighed. "You are Subject Zero."

SIXTY-SIX

STEPHANIE REEMS' JAGUAR XJ SENTINEL glided to a halt on the runway of the RAF airbase behind a large SUV with darkened windows, watched by four armed military personnel. Reems' bodyguard climbed out from his front seat and gave a hand signal. Immediately two men exited the SUV, one of them huge and bulked up, the other slim and wearing an expensive suit. The bodyguard opened one of the Jaguar's rear doors and the man in the suit climbed in, flashing a smile.

"Good evening, William," Reems said. Her bodyguard closed the door.

"Always a pleasure, Stephanie," Bern replied, as he sat next to her. "Although it's been much too long."

"Has it?" she replied. "I'd say it's not been long enough."

"Straight to the insults? No small talk first?"

"Nothing you say is ever small talk."

"And
I
don't doubt that national security threads through everything you say and do." He smiled. "If I may say so, you've certainly done well for yourself, coming from such humble beginnings."