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CONNECTIONS

signed as Norman Lance

CHAPTER 1

March of 2001

The ring of the telephone broke the silence of the night. Despite the late hour, Adrian was awake reading one of the most disturbing books ever written: The Great Grimorium. Nobody knows exactly where the book comes from. The most accepted theory is that the book was written in the 13th century by a certain Alibek the Egyptian and published in Cairo. The Great Grimorium’s fame is partly due to the rituals of necromancy described in detail. And that was what attracted Adrian. He was interested in ancient forms of knowledge derived from sources like Goetia, Hindu Sutras and Sufi’s revelations, and their possible links to modern science. Some contemporary scientists would even say that modern science is nothing more than a new interpretation of the truths found in mystic manuscripts. The followers of this line of thought have strong arguments. The Vedas books, for example, stated thousand of years ago that the universe is billions of years old and made of an infinite number of planets. The Vibration Principle found in the Corpus Hermeticum, a book written two thousand years ago by Egyptians masters, affirmed something that would be proved by quantum mechanics: the vibration of all particles. Findings based on the theory of relativity were foreseen in Zen scriptures, and every day new evidence surfaces.

While Adrian didn’t believe that science was just a new way of expressing ancient knowledge, he tried to find links between his neurosurgery research and methods found in ancient societies, such as the Incas, Sumerian, Persian and Dravidian. He was a man of science but shared his precise scientific methodology with the study of occultism and mythology.

Adrian got up when the phone rang for the fifth time. He hated to be interrupted when he was studying, especially when he felt so inspired and the words he read seemed clearer than ever. However, when he looked at the screen he saw a number that made him pale. His voice was trembling when he said Hello.

On the line was the vice-president and the real leader of a giant new technology company, the TNA.

‘Adrian Loth?’ said Boris Dortman in a dark voice.

‘Yes. Any problem?’

‘The third hangar is on fire.’ And hung up.

That was a simple message; Adrian should go straightaway to an emergency meeting. There was no third hangar, that was a code, so was “fire”, which meant attack. Adrian tried to figure out what was going on. He immediately imagined what would happen if a hacker had invaded TNA’s system… that was a frightening thought. In less than two minutes he was in his car speeding to the meeting, measuring all possibilities. A physical attack was out of the question. Nobody could get into the fortress that was TNA. Even with help from an insider there was no way to pass through TNA’s security troops. They had the best technology on their side, were well trained and acted under direct orders from Boris, a man known for his perfectionism. Another option was a virtual attack. TNA had a team of highly skilled hackers checking and improving its system continually, but everybody knew that a virtual attack could come at any time, from anywhere, by anyone. That’s the great dilemma of big corporations. Computers are vital. They store mountains of data, can show any information in seconds and execute many different functions. However, once a hacker gets into the system, secret files, strategies, internal information and much more may be lost.

If a virtual attack had happened, how much had been revealed? Who was behind it? But for Adrian the most important question was whether the Nova Project had been invaded. It seemed so, otherwise he wouldn’t have been called. When he thought about the consequences of an invasion of his beloved Nova Project, his throat went dry and he feared the worst.

There was more. When Adrian was near TNA’s headquarters, his mobile rang. But it wasn’t his usual mobile. It was a special one; 24 hours a day, 365 days a year for the last two years he had it on. Only one person had his number and Adrian shouldn’t make any calls or talk from it; he should only listen.

The mobile rang a second time. Adrian pulled over. He was one mile away from TNA’s headquarters. He answered, keeping quiet. On the other end of the line a woman said in a firm voice.

‘The stars are falling.’

The message, another code, left him even more disturbed. Now it was clear that the Nova Project had been attacked, and more than that, a top-secret project, known only to Adrian and that woman, was in danger.

In less than 20 minutes two calls left him facing his biggest nightmare. If he got caught, his career, image and reputation would be destroyed. Not to mention a great chance of being arrested.

Despair won the battle against calm. Without a second thought he called back.

‘What are we going to do? They caught us, we have to leave!’

Adrian heard a deep sigh and an answer filled with anger:

‘You fool!’

He agreed in silence, dropped the phone and sped to TNA’s headquarter.

CHAPTER 2

The security guards were waiting for Adrian. They had noticed something was wrong but couldn’t tell exactly what. As usual, only Boris knew what was happening.

‘Good night, Dr. Loth.’

‘Good night.’

Digital, retinal and voice identification, and then metal detector; that was the procedure to get into the Érich Tower, TNA’s headquarters.

‘Thank you. Take the central lift. Have a good night.’

The lift had no buttons. It was large and decorated with satin cushions and a Victorian mirror that sharply contrasted with the tower’s high-tech ambience. The security guard sent the lift to the second basement floor. Not even Adrian knew exactly how many floors the tower had and this was the first time he had gone to any of the underground floors.

The floor was a single, long corridor. There was a double door at the end with a sign hanging on it:

Meeting Room – Restricted Access

Adrian walked heavily. He felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. Has Boris found out about the White Dwarf project? He thought. Is this meeting a trap?

There was a huge circular table in the room, where Marcel Nasser, a physician and expert on Micro-Mechanic-Electronic Systems, was sitting next to Leida Novaes, a well-known psychiatrist. Boris was leaning over the table. His eyes were on fire, his facial expression scarier than normal. He greeted Adrian coldly.

A few minutes later Eugenia Constante, Nova Project’s leader and a foremost researcher, opened the door and said:

‘Thomas is passing through the main gate.’

Boris looked at his watch. ‘He is always late.’

Sitting to one side was a guy in stained jeans, black shirt and basketball cap. He was in charge of the electronic security and liked to be called X3. Despite his casual look and childish manners, he was a genius. He built digital security systems worth millions.

Thomas Urman opened the door and said freshly:

‘Good morning! What a time for a meeting!’

Boris Dortman walked around the table, locked the door and started talking:

‘Our system was attacked at about 2:40am, nearly an hour ago.’

While Boris was talking X3 became more and more uncomfortable.

‘We don’t know exactly which information leaked but we are sure Nova Project was attacked.’

‘That means we lost data?’ Thomas asked.

‘No. We have a backup of all data, of course. The problem is that someone now knows a lot about the project.’

‘And this person could sell the information to a rival company.’

‘Or it could go straight to the media. The data can destroy TNA and us all.’ Boris said.

‘Has any other project been attacked?’ Adrian asked.

‘Maybe. Our team is working on it but it’s difficult to say right now. It’ll be necessary to take hard measures to cope with the threat. Eugenia, please.’

Collecting her papers and clearing her throat, Eugenia started:

‘The best option now is to make our project known. We have to strike back. We have to nullify the enemies’ main weapon: surprise. We will be in serious trouble if the newspapers get to know what is in those files and spread prejudices. That will destroy our work.’

‘That’s only one of the risks.’ Thomas interrupted. ‘What about the electrodes copyright? With the correct data any company could recreate my electrodes, I mean, our electrodes.’

‘That’s a concern but you know that even if another company got the data it would take a long time to recreate them. And that’s exactly what I’m saying, we must avoid surprises.’ Eugenia said.

Leida was annoyed. ‘Do you really believe people will think that what we are doing is right? They will lynch us!’

Boris interrupted. ‘That is a very unfortunate comment. I will not accept this kind of attitude. What we are doing can drastically change the lives of millions of people. The world will not be the same once we succeed.’

‘Most people,’ Eugenia carried on, ‘are ignorant and incapable of understanding complex issues. They won’t understand our aims unless we persuade them to listen and accept our views. I propose, as Nova Project’s leader, to start a campaign to make the public receptive to our ideas. I’ve written a statement that will be sent to the media as soon as we finish this meeting. Afterwards, taking into account the public reaction, we’ll start a campaign to change the way people see our activities. Listen carefully:

“We live in an age where technology dictates the way we live. However, very few of us know how the technology that solves our problems is developed. This lack of knowledge may create some prejudice. The work of scientists is not only to develop tools for a better tomorrow but also to show how we do it.

For a long time it’s been possible to implant small electrodes in the human brain to improve many aspects of our lives, such as, predicting epileptic seizures, reconstructing damaged brain tissues, establishing communication between brain and computers or even developing artistic skills. This technology already exists! In fact, since the 1960s electrodes have been implanted in patients to control certain types of mental disorders. It’s only prejudice and ignorance that prevents this technology from being further developed and reaching the public.

We live in the age of revolutions. In less than a century we created planes that cross a continent in a few hours, telephone networks that connect the world, we’ve entered space, we manipulate genes and atoms! Why not now focus our attention on the center of all that, the human mind! Why not develop our brain instead of only developing machines? We all know we only use a small part of our minds, it’s time to change this reality. It’s time to overthrow skepticism and backward values, and bring the future to the present.

Two years ago TNA launched a program with a clear aim: to improve certain mental conditions via electrode implantation. In the past this technique had some problems. The electrodes were able to receive electrical impulses for only a few months due to changes in blood pressure, the growth of brain tissue around the electrodes and the death of sending neurons. We have solved this problem using a system that allows the electrodes to move slightly to find the strongest signals without damaging the brain tissue.

Another problem we’ve solved is the energy to feed the electrodes. Instead of uranium, used in the previous decades, we use a clean technology that doesn’t threaten users nor the people around them.

We have tested the technology and the results are outstanding. While initially we focused on fighting depression and violence, the technique may be used for several ends.”

The room was in deathly silence when Eugenia finished. Nobody dared speak. Adrian breathed deeply. He looked at Eugenia. She seemed calm, no gesture could betray her real feelings. Adrian gritted his teeth, calmed down, waited.

Thomas was uneasy during the speech. Each word was the opposite of what he thought. He nearly interrupted Eugenia but preferred to wait and speak out his mind when the chance was given.

Eugenia knew she had shocked them.

‘I want to hear everybody’s opinion.’

They looked at each other. Thomas started abruptly:

‘This must be a joke!’

Eugenia looked at him seriously. ‘I am not given to making jokes.’

‘And I’m not hypocritical enough to say that the speech is wise and will convince the public. This will be the death sentence of the project, and more, of all us.’

‘Why?’ Boris asked.

‘Because this whole speech is shit!’ Nobody had ever spoken to the TNA vice-president like that. ‘We cannot disclose the project in this way. It’s inaccurate from a scientific point of view, pretentious and, at times, stupid. It’s true that the technology has been developed but we have not mastered it. The results are awful! We don’t really know how to use the electrodes in treatments. TNA cannot…’

Boris interrupted. ‘I called you because I want a technical opinion, nothing more.’

‘Technical opinion? No, scientific! If we are going to talk only about that, excellent! I can enumerate many mistakes. First, what is that nonsense about the use of electrodes for several ends? We don’t know how to use them to combat depression, which was our primary aim. We have failed time after time, and now you come and say that we have mastered the procedure? Of course there is a huge potential, and that is what attracted me to the project since the beginning, but it is still only a potential, there is a long, long way to go. Just another point, the electrodes I developed can’t be easily adapted to …'

Eugenia interrupted him. ‘TNA developed the electrodes, as you know.’

‘Ok, we developed. But tell me why the electrodes don’t carry TNA’s name nor have been approved by any medical council?’

‘You must know it’s a secret project.’ Eugenia answered.

‘So secret that not even those who are involved know what is really happening. You, Eugenia, are acting as a servant of Dortman’s tyranny.’

‘Thomas,’ Boris’s voice was almost satanic, a compound of hatred, threat and evil, ‘consider your words’.

Thomas cooled down. ‘As far as I know, Nova Project is aimed at improving the technique of electrode implantation in the human brain to cure depression and attacks of violence, using low voltages in a controlled manner.’

Dr. Leida took the word. ‘And that is controversial. You are assuming that violence and depression have only physical causes, or are somatic, as we call it. But there isn’t enough evidence for that. And attacks of violence and depression are words used to describe many different phenomena.’

‘Everything produced by the brain,’ Eugenia said, ‘has a physical base. Thoughts, dreams, taste, sadness, joy, fear, panic are all products of neuronal activity. We are a complex web of electric impulses, nothing more. Depression, the great mental illness of our century, is only one combination inside this web. Violent behavior is equally a product of neuronal activity. That is a fact! There is nothing beyond the matter. Let’s focus on the problem we are facing now.’

Thomas started from where he had stopped. ‘The electrodes have been developed to prevent attacks of violence and to eliminate depression. They monitor neural activity and, when it’s needed, they discharge electrical impulses in certain areas of the brain. To use them for another end, as Eugenia has suggested, is, to use a soft word, imprudent.'

‘I disagree. The technique is the same. We can use it in almost any area of the brain.’ Eugenia replied.

‘But there are other questions.’ Thomas continued.

‘What?’ Boris shouted.

Thomas looked at him coolly. ‘The patients. They had all kinds of reactions except those we expected them to have.’

Leida couldn’t control herself. ‘Of course! It is ridiculous to think that the brain can be manipulated like that. We cannot divide it into pieces. The brain is a totality. All parts are integrated and we don’t know how it works, how it connects its many parts to create the mind.’

Eugenia took the word. ‘I am the only person who can say how the patients have reacted. I am the only one with access to their records. I conduct the interviews, examinations and tests and I say Nova Project has been a success.’

Thomas and Leida looked at each other perplexed. That was a dirty lie. The project was passing through a critical juncture. Three patients had died in the first implantations. Others developed psychotic disorders and inexplicable behaviors.

‘As Nova Project’s psychiatrist I say we must further test the technology before offering it to the public.’ Leida said resolutely.

‘I accept your point of view. However, I have the final word in scientific matters.’ Eugenia said looking at Leida firmly.

CHAPTER 3

It was 2:31 a.m. when a hacker nicknamed Mephisto saw TNA’s database on his computer screen. That was the crowning moment of long hours solving virtual puzzles that could give him the most valuable thing of our time: information.

Mephisto didn’t waste time. He knew nothing about new technologies but deduced which files were important based on the cryptography they had, levels of security and number of users with permission to access them. His fast fingers soon reached a folder called Nova Project.

Download Started

More files accessed, more downloads.

2:34

Sweat covered his face. He imagined the different ways of making money out of the information.

2:37

The fear of getting caught increased. You can’t play with companies like TNA because their games are deadly.

‘Take it easy, Mephisto, take it easy.’ He repeated to himself.

2:39

The screen showed two downloads completed, five on the way. Nova Project: 87% completed.

‘Come on, come on.’

He saw a folder with a weird cryptography. His instincts said there was something in there. He started up three decoders.