NOT SO DEAD
NOT SO DEAD
A Sam Sunborn Novel, Book 1
Charles Levin
Munn Avenue Press
Copyright © 2017 by Charles Levin
All rights reserved under Title 17, U.S. Code, International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, scanning, recording, broadcast or live performance, or duplication by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the publisher, except for the inclusion of brief quotations with attribution in a review or report. To request permissions, please visit the author’s website (www.charleslevin.com).
Note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Edition
ISBN: 978-0-692-91416-8
Dedicated to Amy,
now and forever.
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1 — The Idea
Chapter 2 — Meeting Einstein
Chapter 3 — Who am “I”
Chapter 4 — Who’d a thought?
Chapter 5 — Maybe Not Such a Good Idea
Chapter 6 — The Image in the Mirror
Chapter 7 — Earth to Lisa
Chapter 8 — Hmmm . . .
Chapter 9 — The 2nd Grenade
Chapter 10 — Damage Report
Chapter 11 — Digital Frank
Chapter 12 — Inside the Network
Chapter 13 — Schrödinger’s Cat
Chapter 14 — Rule Breakers
Chapter 15 — Killer
Chapter 16 — War Room
Chapter 17 — Kevlar
Chapter 18 — The Visitor
Chapter 19 — Ping
Chapter 20 — Desert Air
Chapter 21 — Fly-fishing the Gorge
Chapter 22 — Hitting the Fan
Chapter 23 — The World According to Frank
Chapter 24 — Homeland Security
Chapter 25 — The Day of Battle
Chapter 26 — End Run
Chapter 27 — Conference
Chapter 28 — The Same River Twice
Chapter 29 — Countdown
Chapter 30 — Who’s There
Chapter 31 — Intercept
Chapter 32 — Accidental Tourist
Chapter 33 — So Now What?
Chapter 34 — Awakening
Chapter 35 — Blown Up
Chapter 36 — Innocence
Chapter 37 — 50/50
Chapter 38 — Tracer
Chapter 39 — The World Upside Down
Chapter 40 — State Of Mind
Chapter 41 — Clear
Chapter 42 — The Barbeque
Chapter 43 — Spy Vs. Spy
Chapter 44 — What Are The Odds?
Chapter 45 — Stop The Presses
Chapter 46 — ATC
Chapter 47 — Visiting Mr. P
Chapter 48 — Boston UA 226
Chapter 49 — What’s Next?
Chapter 50 — 30,000 Sleep
Chapter 51 — Near Miss
Chapter 52 — Signal and Noise
Chapter 53 — Keep the Change
Chapter 54 — Quantum State
Chapter 55 — A Stroll
Chapter 56 — 40/70 Rule
Chapter 57 — Not A Cop
Chapter 58 — The Cub
Chapter 59 — Last Chance
Chapter 60 — American Coffee
Chapter 61 — Rook To Queen Eight
Chapter 62 — Return Fire
Chapter 63 — Run Silent, Run Deep
Chapter 64 — Backscatter
Chapter 65 — Cut It Now
Chapter 66 — Rewind
Chapter 67 — Signal Lost
Chapter 68 — Knockdown
Chapter 69 — Good News—Bad News
Chapter 70 — Finding the Light
Chapter 71 — The Cub is Dead
Chapter 72 — Backstroke
Chapter 73 — Monica
Chapter 74 — Multitasking
Chapter 75 — Thank You for Your Service
Chapter 76 — Three Times
Chapter 77 — The Rumble Down Under
Chapter 78 — The 9th Circle
Chapter 79 — The Number 2
Chapter 80 — Sherlock
Chapter 81 — Skype Me, Baby
Chapter 82 — Look What I Found
Chapter 83 — Alphabet Soup
Chapter 84 — Possibilities
Chapter 85 — Big Time Anyway
Chapter 86 — Cold Shower
Chapter 87 — Acela
Chapter 88 — Roll Up Your Sleeves
Chapter 89 — My Fair Lady
Chapter 90 — Ms. Marple
Chapter 91 — The Doctor
Chapter 92 — Swan And Hamed
Chapter 93 — Pretty
Chapter 94 — Grab Her
Chapter 95 — Routine Inspection
Chapter 96 — Pick Up
Chapter 97 — FaceTime
Chapter 98 — Interrogation
Chapter 99 — Wise Ass
Chapter 100 — Michelle Returns
Chapter 101 — Indian Point
Chapter 102 — Update
Chapter 103 — Back Early
Chapter 104 — The Vaccine
Chapter 105 — Security
Chapter 106 — Spy Stuff
Chapter 107 — The Moon
Chapter 108 — Sit Room
Chapter 109 — No Buts
Chapter 110 — Breaking News
Chapter 111 — Exfil
Chapter 112 — Code Complete
Chapter 113 — Not Funny
Chapter 114 — Tattoo
Chapter 115 — Mr. Clean
Chapter 116 — Plan B
Chapter 117 — Damage Report
Chapter 118 — And Then It Hit Me
Epilogue
“Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”
—Mike Tyson, Former World Heavyweight Boxing Champion
“In time, you will discover ways to move your mind to more durable media.”
—Nick Bostrom, Director- Future of Humanity Institute
“Just when you thought you were dead, look what happens . . .”
—F. Einstein, Scientist and Co-Founder of Digital3000
PROLOGUE
San Francisco, Near Future — March
Only the faintest scent of burning wires ruffled the still air. Viktor could feel the room rumbling as a subway passed overhead. A half-full water glass rattled close to the edge of a table. A door opened and a dark figure appeared. All eyes looked up and then away in fear. Ahmed LaSalam, better known as the Leopard, entered the room full of young men clicking away. Their faces were only lit by the glow of their computer screens. He was conducting a new kind of war in this bunker ten stories underground.
Stroking his head like he actually had hair, Viktor stood nearby. His dome was as smooth as a bowling ball with a high shine. He stood out with his Slavic features, blue eyes and very white skin. “Who are these people?” he said looking over a young man’s shoulder at the monitor.
The Leopard’s face reddened, “It appears that they have invented something that could change the world and I want it. Besides we have even bigger plans and I don’t want them or anyone else getting in our way.”
“When do we move?”
he said.
“As soon as we have eyes on the target.” LaSalam stood over the room like a schoolmaster with his students taking their final exam. When one of the hackers silently raised his hand, LaSalam moved down the rows of clicking computers. “What is it?”
A young man, who looked about twelve with no facial hair, said, “I have our target at his office with the scientist and his partners.”
“Very good. Can you get into their systems?” LaSalam said.
“I’m trying but the security is excellent. I can only tell that there is some unusual activity.”
“Time to move!” the Leopard said.
Viktor stood by watching the feed from the security cameras fixed on his target. He knew what he had to do.
CHAPTER 1
9 months earlier
I don’t know how it started—I remember dying. It was sometime in the early 21st century. Let me think…My name is Sam Sunborn and I made my fortune digitizing lives. It all began when a client came to me with the idea of starting a website to memorialize people’s lives and to pass on their after-death messages and instructions. Like a virtual scrapbook, users could set it up before they died and leave messages and things like, “I stashed the cash under the…” Friends and family could then upload pictures and other digital memorabilia plus express their feelings about the deceased. Seemed pretty straightforward and useful at the time.
I said sure. I always said sure. It’s gotten me into trouble plenty of times—this being no exception. So we designed and built InTheEventOfMyDeath.info. What do you think of the name? I thought it was a little blunt, but the intention was clear. Good for the search engines too. We did get “found.”
Well the website did very well in fact and was profitable. We ran it with a small staff of four and felt we were doing some good. Keeping people’s memories alive at least, passing on their last words, etc. Sitting around with my staff in the office one day, I blurted out, “What if we could do more than upload pictures and text. What if we could actually digitize and upload people’s personalities?”
Julie, one of our bright, and not unattractive, young interns said, “You mean something like the old Facebook Timeline or Lifeline or whatever they called it back then?”
“No, I mean like actually download people’s brains so they could live on…virtually forever.”
“Yeah, as long as nobody pulled the plug,” said Bart, my sarcastic chief engineer or head geek, as we like to call him. Bart pecked away at his keyboard while he talked, the screen reflecting in his three inch thick glasses.
“Ever hear of backups?” said Loretta, our lead salesperson. Loretta was always the adult in the room.
“Now you’re getting into it,” I said. “Look. Can you imagine a world where we can live on beyond our physical lives in a digital world? Where we could still interact with our loved ones, read and enjoy all the ‘pleasures of the mind’ just like we were alive?”
“You mean no sex?” Bart said.
“That might be Version 2.” We did solve that one, but that’s a story for later.
“That’s some programming skills that go way beyond what my team can do,” Bart said. “Nobody has done anything close to that before.”
I thought about it. “True, but what would it take? If it is possible, who and what would it take to do it?”
“Uh, oh,” said Loretta. “I hear the wheels of Sam’s inner entrepreneur spinning.”
I ignored her reality check. “Really, what would it take? Who could help us?”
I could see Bart’s eyes going up and to the left. He was already working the problem. “I know a digital-neuroscientist at the university who has been developing some really cool stuff to connect your brain to a computer. I mean they’ve been able to have you move a mouse and type for years just by thinking it. But he tells me he thinks he can actually capture and digitize your thoughts, and they are working on digitizing your memories.”
“No shit,” I said. I have to tell you I avoid four letter words, especially since using one in a client meeting in Minneapolis that lost me the client. They don’t like that stuff in the Midwest. But I’m a New Yorker. Fuck it, I was excited.
“When can we meet this techno genius? With his technology and your uber programming ability, we might really be able to make this happen,” I said.
“Whoa, that’s a big leap. Even if it’s true, Frank is doing his research under a DARPA grant and you know how the Department of Defense gets with security. Especially since 9/11.”
“Does this Frank drink coffee?” I persisted. “Let’s just meet for coffee.”
Maybe that’s where it all started.
CHAPTER 2
MEETING EINSTEIN
Bart, Loretta and I met at the office so we could drive to the university in one car, my old Jeep. Parking at every university sucks, and BU is no exception. We found a spot quickly. I’ve always had great parking karma. After all, parking is just a two-dimensional packing problem. Hard, but not unsolvable. We went to BU’s retro 90s coffee house and waited for Frank. I could smell the aroma of fresh coffee brewing. I loved that smell.
A disheveled, gray-haired man with a boyish face and rimless specs appeared minutes later. He wore a rumpled tweed sport coat around his ample frame. He definitely looked the part.
Bart said, “Sam, Loretta meet Frank Einstein.”
“Ha, ha—you’ve got to be kidding,” I said before I could stop myself. What if that really was his name?
“Ya, ya—nobody believes it. My parents were hippies and had a warped, or probably stoned, sense of humor. Just call me Frank and don’t worry, I’m not that smart.” As I found out shortly, nothing could be farther from the truth. We shook hands.
Well do I launch right into it, like a typical American, or do I make small talk, order tea and let the conversation emerge old-world style. Screw it—I couldn’t wait. That’s not me. “So I hear you have been working on some interesting research?” Hoping this would be an innocuous leading question.
Frank took a deep breath. “I’m sure Bart told you I am doing my research under a DARPA grant, and so I can’t talk about it.”
“Yes he did,” I said. “Funny how university government-funded research works. There’s usually three buckets: the government stuff you can’t talk about, the university stuff you want to publish and the stuff you do on the side. Sometimes the lines get a little blurred and some things spill over from one bucket to another. I don’t know who expects anybody can compartmentalize their knowledge and creativity that way.”
“You must have worked here.” He laughed.
“I’ve had a little experience in that arena, but I never liked the feeling of being indentured to some large organization. It’s one of my personality flaws. I always want to be the boss. Tell us about some of the interesting stuff you’re doing ‘on the side.’”
His obligatory DARPA warning out of the way, Frank seemed anxious to talk. “My defense work has to do strictly with digitizing thoughts. That’s all I can tell you on that one. My other interest is digitizing memories and emotions.”
Bart jumped in, “I bet the government wants to use your research to get info from terrorists without torturing them. Just hook ’em up and bingo!”
I love Bart—he always has a different angle. “Bart, he already said he can’t comment. But you just made me think of a funny oxymoron– ‘humane torture.’ That’s how the big bad government would sell the idea.” I continued, “So how’s the research going?”
Frank looked animated. “I’m very excited, I just made a big breakthrough last night, but I’m not ready to go public yet.” He seemed to really want to tell someone but choked back his words.
“Frank, I promise we’ll keep whatever you tell us just between the three of us. We’re not here to pump you for sensitive information. We have an inkling of an idea that relates to your research. It might be a way to take what you do and what we do and change people’s lives—literal
ly forever.”
Frank took this all in. “I’m intrigued. You tell me your idea and if it makes sense and I’m comfortable with it, I’ll share some of what we’re doing. So, you first.” He smiled an impish smile like we were kids back on the playground and, in a way, we were. A very big and potentially dangerous playground.
CHAPTER 3
WHO AM “I”
To really understand how I got here, you need to know a little bit about me. I grew up without a father. He died on my first birthday.
My mother had to go to work to support three kids. It was tough. She did the best she could. Money was always tight. He was only forty-nine and died of a sudden heart attack. My older sister did CPR to no avail. That must have been traumatic. Hey, but I was only one. I think I stayed oblivious until I was sixteen.
Fortunately my dad was good enough to leave a college fund for the three of us. My sister became a doctor. She may have wanted to save lives as a way to make up for the loss of our father. My brother became a lawyer and I was off to college. In high school, I won the graduation award as “most likely to be a successful engineer.” Ironic—they gave me a slide rule as a prize. If you’re too young to know what a “slide rule” is, Google it. Mine might turn up in an archeological dig someday.
So off I went to Cornell with the notion that I would study physics, which I loved. Some people picture words in their brains. For others it’s music. For me it was always numbers. I must have had a thousand phone numbers memorized.
Somebody turned me onto the Trachtenberg System, where I learned I could add, multiply and divide long columns of numbers in my head and fast. Won quite a few bets with this parlor trick. Anyhow, it was my first week in college and we took placement tests to see where they should place us geeks. For physics, they put me in junior year. I thought—cool—I am smart. But after three weeks of watching the professor race across the blackboard (yes, it was a blackboard) writing what looked like hieroglyphics to me, I dropped the class and took up philosophy on a lark. What an awakening. To learn and think conceptually instead of procedurally. The world was no longer just numbers for me.
So I got a degree in Philosophy and by default went to law school, like my brother whom I always looked up to. I hated it. While sitting in Constitutional Law class, I would look out the window at the graveyard next door. Frequently, I saw funeral processions during class. I took that as a sign.