The GoldenCity

The Nighthawk lowered his head slightly. He dropped the sarcastic tone and appeared to be considering the information. “A quantum computer? Really? If that’s true, then traditional code is not going to work. Ordinary computers have to test coded messages sequentially in a brute force attack. But a quantum computer can test all alternatives at the same time.”

“In other words, they can break any code we throw at them.” Maya turned to Gabriel. “This trip was a waste of time.”

“It could be a waste of time, if you speak rudely to the Nighthawk.” Pushing down on the armrests, Vinsky struggled to sit up straight. “I anticipated this particular development in the Internet war, and I’ve already come up with a solution.”

“You just told us that this new machine can test all answers,” Gabriel said.

“That’s true. A quantum computer can defeat all codes-except for those that use quantum theory. When you look at a quantum particle, it alters its state. My code operates the same way. If anyone tries to read your message, both sender and receiver will know instantly.”

“So will you help us?” Gabriel asked.

“How much will you pay me?”

“Nothing.”

“I see.” The Nighthawk frowned. “Then we have nothing to talk about.”

“Perhaps you want something other than money,” Gabriel said.

“And what could that possibly be?”

“I think you’d like to extend your influence all over the world and annoy those in power.”

“Perhaps. You might be right about that. Annoying other people is the only way I know I’m alive. That’s the troll morality. And I’m the King of the Trolls.”

“So you’ll help us?”

“Would you buy me a new modem?”

“We’ll buy you three bloody modems,” Maya said. “Just deliver what you promise.”

“Oh, I’ll deliver. I can promise you that.”

“There’s another problem you might be able to solve,” Gabriel said. “I want to communicate with everyone in the world who owns a computer. The message can’t be blocked or filtered. It will simply appear.”

“Understand something. This is an act that is vastly more ambitious than a putting up a video of dancing kittens. The authorities won’t be amused. They’ll be very angry. If the message is traced back to me, I could end up in prison.” The Nighthawk gestured at his room. “My cell would be as small as this hole, but there would be one terrible punishment-they would take away my computer.”

“I need your help, Eric. It’s important.”

“I realize that the Resistance is against surveillance and control, and I agree with that philosophy. But you want me to risk my freedom. So what is the Resistance for? What’s your plan?”

“I can only describe the ideal. I realize that it’s hard to achieve ideals, but they do determine the direction of our journey.”

“Go on…”

“This is a mass movement with a simple goal. We want people to acknowledge the fact that each individual life has value and meaning.”

“Even my life, trapped in this chair?”

“Of course.”

“And what gives you the right to say that?”

Maya glanced at Gabriel and shook her head slightly as if to say, don’t tell him anything. But Gabriel deliberately ignored her.

“I’m a Traveler. Do you know what-”

“Of course I know. But all the Travelers are dead.”

Maya touched the tennis carrier that concealed the shotgun. “This one isn’t dead. And we’re going to keep it that way.”

“Really? So what tricks can you do, Mr. Traveler? Can you glow in the dark? Do you fly? Can you heal me?” The Nighthawk’s voice was both sarcastic and plaintive.

“I have DMD-Duchenne muscular dystrophy. Even with the drugs, I’m going to die in five or six years.”

“I can’t heal you, Eric. I don’t have that power.”

“Then you’re completely useless, aren’t you?”

The Nighthawk lowered his head and Maya wondered if he was going to cry. Gabriel’s voice was soft, comforting.

“We wander through our lives and then we die. But for all of us there is one moment, one crucial point, where we have to make a decision between what’s right and what’s wrong, between different visions of who we might be. This might be that moment for you, Eric. I don’t know. It’s your choice.”

The Nighthawk stayed silent for almost a minute and then he turned back to his computer. “It would have to be a worm, not a virus. A virus attaches itself to an existing program. What you want is a self-replicating code that would sit around in a computer-unnoticed-until it was activated.”

“What happens next?” Maya asked.

Pushing his control stick, the Nighthawk spun around in a circle like a madman looking for a vision. Suddenly, he stopped and laughed with pleasure. “It does something quite extraordinary. Something that would be useful to a Traveler…”

***