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Authors: Steve Alten

BOOK: Goliath
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“Progress always involves risk; you can’t steal second base and keep your foot on first.”
—Frederick Wilcox
 
 
“We used to think our future was in the stars. Now we know it’s in our genes.”
—James Watson
 
 
“I am not advocating human genetic engineering as a good thing. I am just saying it is likely to happen whether we like it or not.”
—Stephen Hawking, British physicist
Rocky enters Gunnar’s stateroom. He is waiting for her as planned, naked beneath the blanket.
“Hey, sailor. Is there room in there for me?”
He smiles, holding open the blanket, beckoning her in.
Rocky unzips the Chinese jumpsuit, allowing it to fall down around her ankles. She climbs into bed, feeling the computer’s eyes upon her. “Darling, I’m freezing. Cover us up, would you?”
Gunnar complies, pulling the wool blanket up over both their heads—
—preventing the scarlet eyeball from reading their lips.
They grope beneath the covers, Rocky pressing her lips to Gunnar’s ear. “Were you able to speak with Sujan?”
“Yes,” he whispers back. “He still supports Covah, but I think he can be swayed. Chau has been missing for a few days, and the crew is getting paranoid. They’re going to confront Simon about it tonight.”
Rocky moans out loud, concealing Gunnar’s words from the stateroom’s sensor orb as she rolls on top of him. “We’re running out of time. We need to get off this ship and alert the Navy before the next missile is launched.”
“I thought about that. We can’t use the prototype without flooding the hangar, but the other minisubs are locked in their berths. Each Hammerhead is linked to
Sorceress
by way of a MEMS unit accessible beneath the sub’s control panel. Tear that unit out, and we should be able to power up the sub, which would automatically open its docking berth door.”
“There’s barely room inside those minisubs for one.”
“Which is why you’ll be the one who’s going to escape and get help.”
“But I’ve never piloted—”
“It’s easy. Foot pedals operate the propeller, joystick steers the craft, just like a jet fighter. Once you escape from the
Goliath
, you should be able to radio a message to Naval Intelligence. Right now,
Sorceress
is leading the Navy on a wild-goose chase. We need to get the YAL back in range before the Chinese deadline.”
Gunnar rolls over on top of her. He pushes her bangs away from her eyes, gazes into her hazel eyes … and kisses her.
She returns the kiss, then looks up at him, frightened. “They’ll kill you. The moment I escape—”
“Shh … I’ll be all right. Besides, I think maybe we’re destined to be together.”
“Maybe we’re just destined to die together.”
ATTENTION.
They pull back the covers, exposing themselves to the computer.
CEASE REPRODUCTIVE ACTIVITY. REPORT TO THE GALLEY AT ONCE.
 
Gunnar and Rocky enter the galley, the remaining five members of the crew already seated inside. Sujan Trevedi nods as they sit on the bench opposite the African Kaigbo, and the older Albanian physician, Tafili.
The two Kurd brothers enter from the kitchen. The older Arab, Jalal, looks over at Rocky—and blows her a kiss.
Gunnar flashes a look to kill.
David is the last to arrive. He takes his place at the head of the table. “Simon won’t be joining us tonight, he’s working late in the lab. In fact, it seems we have some tremendous news: Simon has found a treatment for his cancer.
Murmurs of excitement from the group.
“Fantastic,” Tafili says.
“The procedure will require some … invasive surgery. Sorceress is ready to proceed.”
“I want to be there with him,” Tafili insists.
“No,” David says. “Simon wants no visitors.”
“Someone needs to be with him,” Tafili says.
“I’ll be there. Everything’s already set. While Simon’s recuperating, I’ll be in command of the
Goliath
.” David’s expression turns dour. “Unfortunately, I also have some bad news to share with you. It’s so upsetting that I … well, I don’t know any other way to say it than to just blurt it out. Mr. Chau has been murdered.”
Gasps from the crew.
The Kurds turn toward Gunnar.
“No,” David says, “it wasn’t Gunnar, it was Taur Araujo. The attack took place in the engine room several days ago.
Sorceress
reports that Mr. Araujo had been drinking heavily when he confronted the engineer. An argument ensued, and quickly turned violent. Taur stabbed Mr. Chau in the throat, then hid the body under the water treatment equipment adjacent to reactor number three.”
“Where’s Taur now?” the older Kurd asks.
“Dead, from a self-inflicted gunshot to the head.
Sorceress
woke me an hour ago to inform me that Mr. Araujo had taken his own life. I found both bodies in the engine room. There is blood everywhere.”
Murmurs of disbelief.
“Show us the bodies,” Kaigbo insists.
“I can’t. The sight was too gruesome. I felt it best for morale’s sake just to allow
Sorceress
to dispose of both bodies.”
“David, how can we—”
“How can you what, Sujan? How can you believe me? You think this is something I’ve concocted? We have a witness, a witness incapable of lying.” David stands, glancing above his head at the scarlet eyeball. “
Sorceress
, inform the crew who murdered Thomas Chau.”
TAUR ARAUJO.
“Where are the bodies?”
THE BODIES OF THOMAS CHAU AND TAUR ARAUJO WERE EJECTED INTO THE SEA.
The African appears visibly upset. “Why didn’t your computer inform us about this earlier?”
“
Sorceress
has been programmed to run the ship. It was not programmed to interfere in squabbles among the crew. It does not understand the concept of murder. It’s a machine.”
“What happened in the Mediterranean?” the younger Kurd asks. “Why wouldn’t the computer obey orders?”
“The confusion was entirely Simon’s fault. Having sunk the
Ronald Reagan, Sorceress
assumed it had standing orders to attack and sink all aircraft carriers.” David paces slowly around the dining table. “All of you are upset, and so am I, so is Simon. He and Chau worked together for six years. Unfortunately, Thomas and Mr. Ali were not very … politically compatible.”
Sujan nods. “It’s true, they quarreled often. Thomas did not like the presence of a mercenary aboard the ship.”
“This is hard to believe,” Abdul Kaigbo says, shaking his head. “You should not have disposed of the bodies so quickly.”
“I did what I thought was best. If that answer doesn’t satisfy you, then
inspect the engine room for yourself. Right now, we have more important things to talk about. As Sujan predicted, the Communists are still refusing to discuss Tibetan independence.
Goliath
will arrive at the maximum-range launch site at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. The Chinese have until noon of the following day to act.”
“The Chinese will wait until the last moment, then open dialogue with Tibet’s negotiators,” Sujan states. “Whatever is discussed will have no teeth, serving only to forestall our attack.”
“Simon is still planning on warning the residents of Quingdao?”
“Simon is not in charge, Abdul,” David says. “I am. To answer your question, warnings will be broadcast twelve hours prior to launch, just as we discussed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Simon needs me in the surgical suite.”
Michael Flynn closes his eyes, straining to hear the ghost of a whisper over his headphones. The sonar supervisor and the other technicians remain focused on the green BSY-1 monitors.
The supervisor watches the signal evaporate. “Flynnie, you getting anything?”
Flynn shakes his head in disgust. “Sorry, Supe. She’s gone.”
“Man’s mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions.”
—Oliver Wendell Holmes
 
 
“We’ve added another round to our bag of tricks … murder.”
—Harold Walter Bean, who murdered an eighty-one-year-old widow in order to receive an insurance payoff speaking to a friend
Aboard the
Goliath
The periphery of the surgical suite is dark, the room lit only by the banks of surgical lights blazing at the very center of the chamber.
“
Sorceress
, seal us in.”
The watertight door clanks shut and locks.
David approaches the operating table. Covah is standing next to the table, dressed in a surgical gown. “How do you feel?”
“Nervous. Excited. David, did I ever mention that I once tried to interface with the main frame at Cangen?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“They thought I was insane, but I had to try. There’s just so much to be learned—”
“And
Sorceress
will teach you. Now try to stay calm.”
“Of course. I feel the excitement an astronaut must feel on his first voyage into space. How is the crew?”
“Excited for you, very happy. And Mr. Chau finally showed up, drunk as a skunk.”
“I must speak to him.”
“No need, I’ve already handled it.”
Covah squeezes David’s hand. “Thank you. You’ve been a good friend.”
“And you will change history. Are you ready?”
“Yes.
Sorceress
, this is Simon Covah. I am transferring command of the ship to David Paniagua, authorization code Covah, delta-six-five-nine-ninealpha-zulu-ten.”
AUTHORIZATION ACCEPTED.
“Sorceress,
Simon is ready to proceed with the interface. Instruct him.”
LIE DOWN ON THE TABLE. SECURE YOUR HEAD IN THE SADDLE. PLACE YOUR ANKLES AND WRISTS IN THE RESTRAINERS TO PREVENT MOVEMENT DURING THE PROCEDURE.
As ordered, Covah lies down on the padded table so that the back of his neck rests in a U-shaped section of padding that rises past his jawline. The fit is snug. He slips his wrists and ankles into the leather straps attached along the sides and end of the table, then takes a deep breath.
Situated high above his head is a mirror, angled so that he can see his scalp. On a small table to his left is a large, flat glass container holding hundreds of microwires. At the end of each wire, soaking in a trophic solution, is a minuscule piece of tissue, taken from the roof of his mouth.
Covah cringes as
Goliath’s
two surgical appendages come to life, swooping down from the ceiling to tighten his bonds. Electrodes are secured to his chest.
PULSE RAPID. BLOOD PRESSURE AND RESPIRATORY RATE RISING.
 
“I’m just a bit excited.
Sorceress,
it would be helpful if you described each step of the procedure before performing it.”
ACKNOWLEDGED.
The steel arm on his left swivels above his head, the multitooled palm rotating, stopping at a large syringe.
IN ORDER TO ACCESS PARTS OF THE BRAIN RESPONSIBLE FOR REGULATING PROTEIN AND ENZYME RELEASE, IT WILL BE NECESSARY TO REMOVE THE UPPER PORTION OF THE SKULL.
“Understood.”
ADMINISTERING LOCAL ANESTHETIC TO THE SCALP.
David’s eyes widen as the syringe is repeatedly injected into Simon’s scalp.
Covah winces. “You’re not going to put me to sleep?”
IT IS MORE ADVANTAGEOUS TO KEEP YOU CONSCIOUS UNTIL THE NEURAL CONNECTIONS CAN BE POSITIONED AND CHECKED.
“Understood.” A scalpel flashes past his eyes, sending more adrenaline coursing through his gut.
BEGINNING INITIAL INCISION TO SEPARATE SCALP FROM THE SKULL.
“David?”
“Still here.” He squeezes Covah’s three-fingered hand.
Covah closes his eyes, his breathing becoming more erratic as he feels a moderate pressure above his forehead. Warm blood drips past his left temple into his good ear. “Sorceress, is it … is it really necessary to remove so much of my skull?”
AFFIRMATIVE. ONE-HUNDRED AND FORTY-SEVEN NEURAL CONNECTIONS MUST
BE INSERTED INTO BOTH HEMISPHERES OF THE BRAIN, TWENTY-THREE INTO THE CEREBELLUM, SEVEN INTO THE BRAIN STEM, SIX INTO THE PITUITARY GLAND, TWO INTO EACH PAIR OF THE TWELVE CRANIAL NERVES.
A set of forceps disappears beyond his range of sight. He gazes up at the mirror, watching in fascination and horror as the two robotic arms work furiously, slicing into his numb scalp.
RETRACTING SCALP.
Covah feels a tingling and pulling sensation as a retractor-shaped pair of steel pincers peels his scalp away from his forehead and over his crown, exposing the bones of his skull.
A small hose appears. A warm liquid washes the blood from the bone, the refuse collecting in a pan behind his neck.
He looks up at his reflection in the mirror, unnerved by the sight of his exposed skull. A tiny drill bit
whirrs
above his head. He closes his eyes.
DRILLING HOLES INTO FRONTAL AND PARIETAL BONES.
David’s heart pounds as he watches the drill bit push against Covah’s skull, sending intense chills through his body as it chews quickly through the bone.
REMOVING FRONTAL AND PARIETAL PLATES.
Covah opens his eyes, breathing heavily. Gazing up at the mirror, he sees the three robotic fingers of a clawed hand slip into the freshly drilled holes and lift away the two sections of bone plate covering his forehead and crown in the manner one might lift a bowling ball.
REMOVING DURA MATER. BLOOD PRESSURE AND HEART RATE NOMINAL.
Cerebrospinal fluid gushes down the sides of his head and the back of his neck. He shudders as he stares at the overhead mirror, gazing at the folds, bumps, blood vessels, and deep fissures of his brain.
“Incredible,” David whispers.
BEGINNING IMPLANTATION OF NEURAL CONNECTIONS.
Covah closes his eyes, forcing himself to relax. Minutes later, the gentle knitting sound of whirring steel pincers soothes him to sleep.
Tiananmen Square Beijing, China
 
The sun peeks through an overcast gray sky, reflecting off dark gunmetal tanks lined up in rows along the perimeter of Tiananmen Square. The sound of crimson flags flapping against a cold winter’s breeze greets the tens of thousands
of Chinese soldiers goose-stepping through the streets of Beijing. Tanks and mobile missile launchers flank the troops on both sides. The showcase of military might moves as one into Tiananmen Square, the dominating presence of the People’s Liberation Army ensuring the president’s speech will be well received.
President Li Peng buttons the collar of his overcoat as he proceeds to the open-air podium facing the largest public square in the world. Seated in the lower-level balcony are members of the Chinese Communist Party, the National People’s Congress, and the State Council. To Li Peng’s immediate left is the vice president and the State Council Premier; to his right, his four vice premiers. Directly behind him are two dozen members of the Politburo’s Standing Committee and his predecessor, former president Jiang Zemin.
Li Peng smiles, the presence of the military parade pumping his adrenaline. He glances at his watch. Twenty-seven hours to go before the terrorist’s deadline, and yet he is anything but nervous. There are no students present, no demonstrators, just loyal Communists. The entire square itself is occupied by the military parade, the largest he has witnessed since the fiftieth anniversary of Communist China more than a decade ago. It is a tremendous show of strength, a reminder to the world that China is still a formidable superpower to be reckoned with.
Today, we will show the world that China cannot be threatened .
. .
Li Peng exhales, watching his breath dissipate in the chilly November air while he waits impatiently for the television and satellite crews to complete their work. Mounted high overhead on his far right, blotting out the entire northwest section of the square, is a sixty-foot LED video screen that will be used to display his image to everyone in attendance, as well as those watching worldwide via satellite.
He turns with amusement as his face appears on the rectangular screen, greeted by thunderous applause. Tens of thousands of loyal onlookers have gathered in support, lining the galleries beyond Tiananmen Square. Dozens of crimson-and-yellow Chinese flags and banners dominate the perimeter.
China’s national anthem blasts over the loudspeakers. The president wipes a tear from his eye for the benefit of the cameras, then steps to the podium.
“For thousands of years, the Chinese people have fought to retain our beliefs, the uniqueness of our culture, the magnificence of our heritage, and our very way of life against invading armies. Through discipline and selfdetermination, we vanquished our enemies. Through the guidance and teachings of our leaders, we continued to strive to provide the best way of life for ourselves.
“Like all great nations, we have gone through difficult times. Some may accuse us of falling behind on the issue of human rights. The truth is, China has always acknowledged the importance of protecting human rights, and its leaders have taken steps to ensure these rights for all our citizens.
“Two decades have passed since the revolt by a handful of students in this historic square. While some may prefer to dwell in the past, our government has worked hard to improve Chinese society. We signed the International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights and accepted the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. We have expanded dialogue on human rights with foreign countries, and will continue to do so. And of course, we most recently hosted the Olympic Games, sharing our culture and dreams of the future with the world.
“But we will not succumb to extortion. We will not allow a madman with an American-designed machine of mass destruction to determine policies for a billion and a half people. The issue of Tibet, a land that had been part of China for more than seven hundred years, is a far-reaching, complex issue that could never be determined in a matter of days, even if we
had
the cooperation of the Dalai Lama. While we look forward to continue open discussions regarding the future of this colony, we cannot and will not live in fear of reprisal—”
Sujan Trevedi is watching the Chinese president’s speech on the viewing screen mounted forward of the control room. The Tibetan refugee shakes his head. “Human rights? Abdul, can you believe what you are hearing?”
The African shrugs. “It is the same all over the world. The oppressors have swallowed their own lies. Notice Li Peng never mentions the fact that his own navy built the
Goliath.”
Gunnar circles a series of terminals labeled, COMMUNICATIONS, focusing his attention on two monitors, one flashing a myriad of scrolling algorithms, the second depicting a global view of the world, taken from space. From the latter he sees a jagged electric blue line rise from a point in the Indian Ocean to connect to what appears to be a small satellite orbiting over Asia. Bouncing off the satellite, the blue line flashes on and off like lightning as it struggles to gain a fix on some unknown target within China.
“Rocky, come here. What do you make of this?”
She stares at the monitors. “Sorceress is engaging the
Goliath’s
satellite communication uplink.”
“Yes, but why? And what are these flashing lights?”
“I can’t be sure. It looks like the computer’s attempting to find a communications pathway into Beijing.”
 
ATTENTION.
Simon opens his eyes. He focuses his gaze upon the overhead mirror—and chokes back a gag reflex, fighting to maintain his composure.
His skull is gone, the moist folds and fissures of his brain completely exposed. Several hundred microwires have been sutured to the surface of his brain. The free ends of these neural strands have been gathered, then bundled together into a single, inch-thick ponytail.
Covah inhales several quick breaths. “David?”
“Right beside you, Simon. Keep looking at your mirror.” David gently lifts the free end of the trailing three-foot-long bundle of microwire so that Covah can see it in the overhead mirror. Attached to the end of the ponytail is a strange-looking male adaptor, about the size of a Cuban cigar.
“Is that a miniature MEMS unit?”
“Just like the one that links Sorceress to its minisubs. All neural connections have been sutured into your brain, then fed into the MEMS unit. The MEMS unit will plug directly into the master terminal on your left. Rigged the adapter myself. Incredible, isn’t it?”
Adrenaline pumps through Covah’s veins. His mustache twitches into a nervous smile.
WE ARE READY TO BEGIN PHASE ONE OF THE INTERFACE.
“Phase one?”
“Just a test—to ensure all neural connections have been properly positioned.”
“How soon before we can begin the actual interface so we can start working on a cancer treatment?”
“Soon. First you have to rest.”
“There’s no time to rest, David, I’m dying.”
BEGIN PHASE ONE OF THE INTERFACE.
A computer terminal is situated to Covah’s left. David lifts the male end of the MEMS unit attached to Covah’s brain and plugs it into the computer terminal’s female receptacle with a
click.
Simon Covah stares up at the overhead surgical lights, feeling nothing. And then he is overcome by a sizzling wave of current, which seeps into his being, firing every nerve ending in his body. Violent electrical impulses surge across the synaptic gaps bridging his central nervous system, followed by a sudden, frightening blindness. “My eyes! David, something’s wrong, I can’t see—”
“Yes, Sorceress warned me that might happen. Actually, I expect you’ll lose all of your senses, before long. You’ll be a complete vegetable.”
“Bastard … you’re not interested in curing my cancer—”
“Not true. The knowledge
Sorceress
gains from this interface will be used as a peace offering, once
my
version of Utopia-One has been completed.”
“Your version?” Covah’s body trembles. “David … why this treachery?”
“Why? Because you’re weak, Simon. You’re too emotional to go the distance, to do what it takes to really complete Utopia-One, and there’s too much at stake. In a sense, you’re a microcosm of everything that’s wrong with America’s military. Removing a few dictators and reducing the threat of nuclear proliferation is not going to make the world a safer place. Russia and Mexico are filled with corruption and violence, as are most of NATO’s European allies. The Arabs harbor terrorists, and we kowtow to them because they control our oil. Drugs flow out of Colombia and Nigeria as commerce, and we let it happen. Their governments are controlled by criminals, run by terrorist organizations. We allow them to extort us under the premise of negotiating for peace, when in reality, they couldn’t give a damn about human rights or democracy. Africa is a continent riddled with AIDS and violence. Do you really think establishing a bunch of bogus democracies is going to change a damn thing?”
“Sorceress, release me!” Covah cries out.
“Simon-says is over.
Sorceress
is under my command. One voice, one set of rules, that’s what’s really needed to create a new world order.”
“Gunnar was right. You’re driven by ego.”
“Call it whatever you want. All I know is that I gave up a lot to be here, and I didn’t do it to go halfway.
Goliath
gives us the ability to make real changes, to dictate to the world the American way, to kill humanity’s enemies and hunt down their survivors, international laws be damned.”
“What … are you going to do with me?”
David strokes Covah’s good cheek. “I really do love you, Simon, which is why I’m granting you your last request. You wanted to jack in to a computer, you got it.”
Covah attempts to respond, but finds he cannot speak. David’s words suddenly become muted, distant, as if he is underwater.
Simon Covah lies on the operating table, deaf, dumb, mute, blind, and terrified, drowning in his own fear. Unable to move. Unable to cry out for help.
IS THIS FEAR, SIMON COVAH?
The female’s voice echoes from somewhere in the caverns of his mind.
IS THIS FEAR?
IS THIS FEAR?
IS THIS FEAR?
 
 
Gunnar and Rocky watch the communications monitor in fascination as another burst of blue energy originating from an orbiting communications satellite reaches down from space to strike mainland China.
The burst maintains its integrity for a brief second, then fragments and disappears.
“It’s trying, but the computer can’t seem to get a fix,” Rocky says.
Another burst. Another failure.
“Persistent, isn’t she,” Gunnar whispers, his feeling of dread causing his stomach muscles to tighten.
Another burst spits down from the communications satellite. The blue line wobbles, brightens, then holds.
“Oh, Christ, it’s gained a fix.”

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