Lock In

  “So we have this developed in some NIH institute as busy work,” Vann said.

  “The U.S. government has been known to pay farmers not to plant crops,” I said. “No reason that principle couldn’t go high tech.” I turned to Tony. “Any maybe that’s why it’s not in the registry, since it was never intended to be commercial.”

  “That’s great,” Tony said. “But it still doesn’t explain how this”—he gestured at the network—“got into someone’s head.”

  “Working on it,” I said again.

  “Work harder,” Tony suggested.

  “What about the software?” I asked.

  “I’ve only glanced at it,” Tony said. “I was going to get to that next, but I thought you might not want to wait for a hardware report. From what I can see it’s programmed in Chomsky, which makes sense because that’s the language designed specifically for neural networks. The software’s got substantially fewer lines of code than most Integrator software I’ve seen. Which means it’s either really efficient, or that whoever programmed it only wanted it to do specific things.”

  “When will you be able to tell us which it is?” Vann asked.

  “I should be able to give you a general report this evening,” Tony said. “If you want more specifics, you’ll need to let me take the code home with me tonight.”

  “That would be fine,” Vann said.

  “Uh, I should tell you that when I work in the evening I get time and a half.”

  “Of course you do,” Vann said. “Just as long as you have an early report ready for us by seven.”

  “Can do,” Tony said.

  “And you,” Vann said, looking at me. “You think you’ll be back from Arizona by then?”

  “I should be,” I said.

  “Then fly, Shane. Fly.” Vann walked off, reaching into her jacket for her e-cigarette.

  Chapter Seventeen

  IN THE OFFICES of the Window Rock Police Department is a conference room. In the conference room today was a display, with a password-protected video file waiting to be opened.

  I was also in the room. So were May and Janis Sani. Klah Redhouse and his boss, Alex Laughing, sat across from the two women. Standing the back of the room were Gloria Roanhorse, speaker of the Navajo Nation, and Raymond Becenti, its president.

  It was the last two who had been making Redhouse jittery when he spoke to me earlier in the day. It’s one thing to have your boss breathing down your neck about a case. It’s another thing to have the two most powerful people in the Navajo Nation doing the same thing.

  I glanced over to Redhouse. He still didn’t look entirely thrilled to be in the room.

  “I don’t know any password,” May Sani was telling Redhouse. “Janis doesn’t either. Johnny never told us any passwords.”

  “We don’t think he did,” Redhouse said. “We think maybe he wanted to give it to you but then he died before he could do it. But we do know he wanted the two of you to see this. So maybe the password would be something that meant something to you, or something only the two of you would know.”

  Janis looked over to me. “You couldn’t just break the password?” she asked.

  “We didn’t want to do that,” I said. “It would be disrespectful to Johnny, and to the two of you. If you want, we can try. But it might take a long time. I agree with Officer Redhouse here that before we try doing that, you should take a few guesses.”

  “When people make passwords, they sometimes use the names of family members or pets,” Redhouse said, and went over to the keyboard that was wirelessly connected to the display. “For example, ‘May.’” He typed in the word. It came up wrong. “Or ‘Janis,’” Redhouse said. That one also came up blank. “Any pets?”

  “We had a dog when Johnny was a boy,” Janis said. “His name was Bentley. Our mom named him.” Redhouse tried it. It came up blank. Several combinations of the three names likewise came up uselessly.

  “We’ll be here all day,” Roanhorse whispered to Becenti, who nodded.

  “Did Johnny know any Navajo?” I asked. “Did he speak or write the language?”

  “A little,” Janis said. “We were taught it at school, but he didn’t do very well in school.”

  “He loved the stories about the Code Talkers,” May said. “The ones from World War Two. There is that old movie about them that he used to watch when he was a boy.”

  “Windtalkers?” Redhouse asked.

  “I think so,” May said. “I didn’t like watching it. Too much blood. One year for his birthday I got him a Code Talkers dictionary. He would read that a lot.”

  I pulled up a Navajo Code Talkers dictionary online. It had several hundred words in it, a number of categories, including names of airplanes, ships, military units, and months.

  “Tah Tsosie,” I said.

  Everyone in the room looked at me strangely. “What did you just say?” Redhouse asked me.

  “Tah Tsosie,” I repeated. “I just looked up the Code Talkers dictionary. The month of May is Tah Tsosie. I am aware I’m pronouncing it terribly.”

  “You really are,” Redhouse said, smiling.

  “Johnny called me that for a little while after I gave him the book,” May said.

  “It’s worth a shot,” I said, to Redhouse. He typed it in.

  The file opened.

  “May, Janice,” President Becenti said. “Do you want to see it alone first?”

  “No,” May said. She reached over to her granddaughter, who took her hand. “Stay.”

  Redhouse hit the keyboard again to play the file.

  And there was Johnny Sani, alive to me for the first time.

  “Hello, Grandma. Hello, Janis,” he said, staring into the lens, which he held close to his head so that it obscured most of the background. “I think maybe they can hear what I do on my phone so I went and bought a camera. I’m going to hide this for now, so if something happens to me you’ll find it.

  “I think there’s something wrong with me. I think maybe something they did to me is making me sick.

  “You remember I went in to look at a job for a janitor. After I did that I got a call from someone who said he was a recruiter for another job. Said that it would pay really well. He said to go back to the computing facility and that there would be a driverless car waiting for me. All I would have to do is tell it my name and it would take me to my job interview. So I did and the car was there and I told it my name.

  “The car drove me to Gallup, to a building where a threep was waiting for me. He said his name was Bob Gray and that the job would be acting as a personal assistant for an important man. I asked them what that meant, and he said it mostly meant running errands and taking him to places he wanted to go. He said I would get to travel and see the world and it would pay well, and all that sounded good to me.

  “I asked Bob, why me? And he said it’s because I was special in ways I didn’t even know about. Then he gave me two thousand dollars in cash and said that was the first week’s salary right up front and I could keep it even if I said no. He said the job paid cash so I wouldn’t even have to pay taxes on it or nothing.

  “Well, I took the job right then. Bob said that the CEO liked his privacy so I shouldn’t tell people anything but that I got a job. So I did.

  “And then after I said good-bye to you, the car drove me to California. Bob met me and showed me my apartment and said it was mine now. Then he gave me some more money.

  “The next day Bob took me to meet my boss, who was named Ted Brown and who was also a threep. He said that as his assistant I would become an Integrator, which is someone who took people places in his head. They would need to put a computer into my brain for that to happen. I was scared at first but they told me it wouldn’t hurt and that Ted would only need me to do it every once in a while and the rest of the time I could do what I wanted. But because my job was secret they would have me use a code name, named Oliver Green.

  “They took me to a doctor’s office and I went to sle
ep and when I woke up they had cut all my hair off my head and said that they had put a computer into my brain. I had headaches for the next few days. They said it was the computer getting used to my brain. They said it would take a couple of weeks for it to get used to me.

  “When that was done Ted and Bob came over and said it was time to try integrating. Ted said that he would come over into my brain and move my body around. I said okay, and then I felt a little sick, and then my arm moved by itself. That scared me but Bob told me to relax and not to worry. Then Ted walked my body around my apartment for a while.

  “After that Ted would use my body a little bit every day. We would go to the store or the library and once he even mailed a money order for you at the post office. And I thought, this isn’t so bad, I just had to remember to relax.

  “We did this for three months. I asked him when we would travel and he said soon.

  “And then it started to happen.

  “One day I was watching a show and I blinked and the show was over and another show was on. And I thought I must have fallen asleep and not even known. Then the next day I put a burrito in the microwave and pressed a button to start it and I blinked again and it was dark outside and the burrito was cold. I could tell I cooked it because stuff leaked out of it. But it was done cooking for so long that it got cold again.

  “It started to get worse. I would be doing something and then I would be somewhere else, doing something else. I would put on one shirt and then another shirt would be on me. I once went to put on a show that is on TV on Monday and it was Tuesday, and it was morning, not night.

  “I didn’t tell Ted about it because I was worried I would get fired if he knew I was sick. But I finally got so scared that I had to tell him. He sent me to the doctor and the doctor said I was fine and that sometimes people who were Integrators had what he said were ‘dropouts.’ He said they would stop and that when they did I would get my memory back. I tried not to worry but it kept happening.

  “Then one day I looked up and I was in a group of men I didn’t know and one of them was talking to me and I had no idea what he was saying. Then he said something about killing someone. I don’t remember the name. He asked me a question and I didn’t know what he was talking about so I stayed quiet and didn’t do anything. And then one of them said, ‘He lost the connection,’ and another one said, ‘shit,’ and then another one asked if that meant the other guy was in the room. I was pretty sure he meant me. I just stayed quiet and did nothing and then it was the next day. Bob came by to ask me how I was doing. I lied to him and I said I was fine.

  “I think I figured it out. I thought I was having dropouts because they put the computer in my head. But I think it’s really that Bob and Ted are using the computer in my head to give me dropouts.

  “The thing is, the dropouts are getting longer now. The last one I lost three whole days. I don’t know if I can do anything about it. I thought about trying to run away but I have a computer in my head now. I know they will find me. And they can make me drop out any time they want. And I think when they drop me out they use me to do bad things. Or they are going to make me do bad things.

  “I don’t know what to do now. I’m making this so that if you find out that I’ve done something bad, you’ll know it wasn’t really me. You know I wouldn’t do that. I don’t know if I can stop them from using me to do something bad. But I promise you if I can I will.

  “All I wanted was a job. I wanted to give you someplace nice to live, Grandma. And you too, Janis. I’m sorry. I love you.”

  The picture wheeled from Johnny Sani’s face, showing the interior of his bedroom in Duarte. Then it went blank.

  * * *

  “Who in goddamned hell does something like that?” Becenti said. It was fair to say he was fuming.

  By this time May and Janis Sani had left the conference room, distraught. Captain Laughing had escorted them out, motioning to Redhouse that the conversation should continue in his absence. President Becenti did not need any prompting.

  “Is that actually even possible?” Redhouse asked me.

  “To black someone out and then control their body?” I asked. Redhouse nodded. “I’ve never heard of it ever happening.”

  “That’s not the same thing as it not being possible,” said Speaker Roanhorse.

  “No, ma’am, it’s not,” I said. “But if it was something that was possible, it’s surprising that it hasn’t been done before. Neural nets are built to be resistant to hijacking,” I said, and paused.

  “What?” Redhouse asked.

  I briefly debated what to tell them, but then thought, screw it, this is the Navajo Nation’s leadership. I wasn’t blabbing to just anyone. “The neural network in Johnny Sani’s head is one of a kind,” I said. “It’s entirely possible it’s fine-tuned for something like this. It would make him a unique case.”

  “Why him?” Becenti asked. “Why do this to Johnny Sani?”

  “Anyone else leaves a trail,” I said. “Johnny Sani never left the Navajo Nation. All his medical records are here. He has no outside identification except for his Social Security number, and he’s never used that for anything. He doesn’t appear to have ever had a job that wasn’t paid in cash, under the table, including this one. He doesn’t have a whole lot of friends, and very few family members.”

  “In other words, if you want to use someone for a medical experiment, he’s perfect,” Redhouse said.

  “That’s about right,” I said.

  Becenti fumed some more. “I knew Johnny Sani,” he said, to me.

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “I had heard that.” What I had actually heard, from Klah Redhouse, was that in his earlier days Becenti had carried a torch for Johnny and Janis’s mother, June. It was never reciprocated, as far as anyone could tell, but that didn’t make it any less real to the current Navajo Nation president. Old flames die hard.

  Becenti pointed to the display, which had reset to the beginning of the video, with Johnny Sani’s head in the frame. “I want you to find out who did this,” he said. “And then I want you to snap their head off.”

  “I will do what I can, Mr. President,” I said. I was not entirely sure if protocol called for “Mr. President,” but I didn’t think it would hurt.

  “Anything we can do to help, you let us know,” he said.

  “Officer Redhouse has already been an immense help,” I said. “I’ll let him know if there’s anything else I need.”

  Becenti nodded and left the room.

  “When are you going to release the body to the family?” Roanhorse asked, after Becenti had gone.

  “Soon,” I said, to her. “Our specialist is finishing up his examination of the network in Sani’s head. As soon as that’s done I think we can release the body.”

  “I understand you’re helping the Sanis get Johnny back here,” she said.

  I glanced over at Redhouse at this comment. His expression was blank. “Arrangements will be taken care of, yes,” I said. “The person helping has asked to remain anonymous to avoid any possibility of spectacle.”

  “I’m wondering why this anonymous person decided to help,” Roanhorse said.

  “Because somebody should help, and this somebody could,” I said.

  “You do understand what ‘anonymous’ means,” I said to Redhouse, after Roanhorse had left the room.

  Redhouse pointed after her. “That’s the speaker of the Navajo Nation and also a good friend of my mom,” he said. “You try to keep a secret from her.”

  “Don’t let it get back to the Sanis,” I said.

  “It won’t,” Redhouse said. “And now you better give me something to do to help you, because you put a target on my head with the president.”

  “I was trying to make you look good!” I protested.

  “I appreciate the gesture,” Redhouse said. “But you’re not the one he’s going to be calling, asking for updates.”

  “There is something you can do for me,” I said. “Go through
the Nation’s medical records. See if there’s anyone else like Johnny Sani. Someone who got sick with Haden’s, got meningitis, but then recovered.”

  “What do I do when I find them?”

  “Tell them not to take any jobs from strangers, for one,” I said.

  Redhouse smiled at that and departed. I called Tony.

  “Trying to get a report ready,” he said, as soon as he connected.

  “I won’t try to stop you,” I said. “But I do want you to check something specific for me.”

  “Can I charge extra?” Tony asked.

  “As far as I’m concerned, sure.”

  “Then tell me what it is.”

  “Check the code for anything that could knock out the Integrator,” I said.

  “Like, make them unconscious?”

  “Yes,” I said. “The Integrator unconscious but the body still functional.”

  “Can’t be done,” Tony said. “Integrators aren’t just passive receptacles for their clients. They need to be aware to assist.”

  “I believe you,” I said. “Check anyway.”

  “And I suppose you want this for the seven o’clock.”

  “That would be nice,” I said.

  “I’m charging you holiday rates,” Tony said.

  “Works for me,” I said. “Get to it.”

  “Already gone,” he said, and disconnected.

  I looked up and saw Johnny Sani looking at me. I looked back him, silently.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “ALL RIGHT, YOU are not going to believe this shit,” Tony said, walking up to our standing table at Alexander’s Café, in Cady’s Alley, Georgetown. Vann had designated it as her place to interrogate Brenda Rees in a relaxed atmosphere. We were at a standing table because cafés disliked threeps hogging chairs, a small piece of technological bigotry that I didn’t really give a crap about one way or another.

  “Who are you?” Vann asked the other threep, walking up with Tony.

  “Tayla Givens,” she said, before I could answer for her. “Tony and Chris’s roommate. Tony told me we were stopping here on the way to a movie.”

  Vann looked at me to see if I cared if Tayla heard what we were about to talk about. I gave her a small body movement that effectively communicated the thought meh. Vann turned back to Tayla. “This is a confidential discussion, so don’t talk about it.”