Chapter 3: Grandfather’s Offices

I would like to say I woke up with each of the girls tucked in beside me, one to each side. Yes, I very much would. However, I woke up alone with a mild hangover and no girls. Who am I kidding with the hangover I had? I thought I might have been better off had the assassin been successful.

No rest for the weary, I guessed. Getting up, with my morning ablutions out of the way, I dressed and went in search of Nick. I had left him with my briefcase. And those files were not going to read themselves.

I usually was a hearty breakfast sort of person. However, today I wished I had never heard of the word fried eggs and bacon. I was about to scream out Nick’s name when he suddenly appeared. He had my briefcase in hand, along with a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

After handing me the hot coffee, Nick said, “There is a private office for you. Mr. Wolfenstein. If you would follow me. It has been swept of bugs.” With the hangover and not feeling all that good, I asked, “It’s not going to smell like ‘Raid,’ is it?” before realizing he wasn’t speaking of those types of bugs. Hangovers, what can you say? I was not at my best.

Nick replied, “No, Sir, but if you wish, we could look for those as well.” Sake was not my drink. Note to self, stick to high energy or soft drinks. Taking a sip of my coffee, and oh yes, and add coffee to that list.

Then Nick handed me a piece of paper. “What’s this?” I asked.

Nick cleared his throat, “It’s the WI-FI password.”

I looked at the paper again, then back to him, “Ahhhhh, yes...” drawing it out.

Looking at that stone face, I couldn’t be sure if he was joking or not. OH, sure, like I’m going to tell you, what WI-FI password was.

Nick left me to my work, and within a short period, I had determined that it had all been a waste of time. Thick as those files had been, there was nothing in them that couldn’t be gleaned from a quick reading of their online home page or latest Quarterly Report. So why had grandfather wasted my time? Oh, they had been informative. The thing that was missing was why grandfather placed so much importance on them. Maybe that was the point that I would have to learn to read between the lines.

The only thing I could do was simply go to each facility. What I did gather was my grandfather wanted me to see each of these places in person. But not a clue as to why.

Come to think of it. There had been nothing written. Nothing to indicate they more than just holdings Grandfather had chosen to leave me. Like the car, nothing of importance. Their importance had only been stressed on that tape that was now destroyed.

Damn it, grandfather, do you still need to play these games with me? I may have been bright, but apparently, I still have a lot of growing to do yet.

“NICK.” I took it for granted he could hear me, bugs, or no bugs. Moments later, he walked in. “Nick, get your ‘New car’ ready. We’re going to take it on a short trip.”

Nick didn’t flinch, “Yes, Sir, Mr. Wolfenstein, it is ready now, Sir.”

I sat back and looked back at the pile of notes and folders on the table. Contemplating having them burned or not. “Crap!” I swept them into the top drawer and locked it. Then picking up my much lighter briefcase, announced, “Let’s go then.”

The trip was actually shorter than I anticipated. This couldn’t have been a coincidence. The first place I was to investigate?

We were there in a matter of minutes. Surprisingly, someone, I gathered a publicity person was waiting for me as I walked through the door. I wondered about that.

I was given a tour of the facility. It smacked of having been just put together. You could almost smell that the paint hadn’t completely dried. Everything seemed brand new like it had all been unpacked yesterday. That didn’t make any sense.

The tour seemed to have hastily been put together. The presenter almost seemed like a new hire. The labs looked small, and it seemed like to work being done was just busywork. Someone who had never worked in a lab might not have noticed.

This was a sham. Whatever was being shown was a cover for something else.

I hadn’t been here before, so I wasn’t expecting much, but I thought I would be shown something more than I was. Still, it wasn’t much more than what had been in the file. The file had said this was a Lab working on Nanotechnology. From what little I had seen of Julia’s work. This wasn’t it. Various Medical applications. Nothing that perhaps a dozen other labs were working on as well. This was all for show. Why?

Using nanomachines to deliver drugs to specific locations in the body could be more effective than consuming pharmaceutical drugs by injecting drugs dosing the entire body.

Nanites or nanobots could absorb toxins and remove these toxins from organs and clean fat from blood vessels reducing chances of heart attacks and strokes. Break down clots.

I hadn’t heard much since Julia had expounded on them. If for no other reason, I would keep this work moving ahead. But not in this particular lab.

All good, but for the fact they hadn’t been able to do any of it yet. If I had to guess, this Lab was simply a front. But it was on my grandfather’s list for a reason.

Then I was surprised, “I suppose you have come to collect Mister Wolfenstein’s thing from his office?”

I hid the surprise on my face. Had my grandfather maintained an office here? It was hardly likely. Okay, that was definitely a giveaway. This facility was too new. There wasn’t even any actual work being done here. He wouldn’t have done that if it weren’t necessary. So, the office had to be bogus. If nothing more, maybe a lead to what I was looking for. Rather noncommittally, I said, “Yes, take me to his office.”

Damn it, grandfather, you give me a mission. Leave out the details. Stressing this place was important to you. Why?

I was led to the office and left alone. Again why? I thought to myself again. It wasn’t an overbearing sort of office, similar in many respects to his office in his manor. More functional than anything, not meant to impress.

As I said, similar enough to his other office in the manor. It could have been a copy.

I tried the desk’s drawers. Locked as expected. And I hadn’t been given any keys. However, this was the reason I was here. I just knew it.

Okay, drawing a deep breath. Thankful that I had had hours to get over my hangover. Grandfather wanted me to find something here. Or he would never have asked me to visit it. Come on, come on, now was not the time to be obtuse in my thinking.

I looked for the usual things, hidden safes or panels, concealed switches. There was nothing visible I could put my finger on as being a key to the future. But then there wouldn’t be.

Taking out my phone, I called Nick, “Nick, I will be here for some time. Go get yourself a cup of coffee or something.” I thought about saying get yourself a sandwich. But I let that idea go.

It never really occurred to me that I was what kept him busy. He wasn’t going anywhere. Nick was probably calling in reinforcements even as we spoke. But, hey, being the new undeclared ‘Family’ head wasn’t something I was used to. I can’t say I was used to any of it.

To top it off, I was only alive because of Nick’s watchfulness. And I hadn’t even known he was there. Had I thanked him for that? Come to think of it, he had been there for years, and I hadn’t known it. And before him, there had been others. All of them had been inconspicuous. So, did I want to get on his bad side?

Had the assassin not made a try on my life, I still might not have known he was there. But, God grandfather, couldn’t you have given me a slight hint, a heads up maybe, something?

Where was I? Oh, in my grandfather’s office beating myself up. With a sigh, I leaned back in his chair. I was going to have to get a chair like this for myself. What was I missing?

Grandfather had put it on the list as a must-see. In fact, my grandfather had stressed that it was a priority that I do so. Why?

After sitting in his chair, I got up, meddling my way to the middle of the room again. I quietly stood there, wondering what had been going through my grandfather’s mind when he had sat in this office. Finally, it came to me that he hadn’t ever been in this office.

Something was tugging at me. Something was not right. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something here. I sensed Grandfather had left me another message, but one he wanted me to be alone to figure out.

It struck me that this was important enough that he had maintained the fiction of an office here. It meant he had spent more than just a little time on this project.

Everything about the office felt out of place. Yes, it looked like my grandfather’s office. Well, it would to anyone who had been in his office. But I had spent more time than most in it, and I knew my grandfather.

Such an odd position. It had the appearance of a corner office, but the windows were all covered. When I went to look behind them, it confirmed what I had already felt - that the position was closer to the center of this vast building. Why was that? I went back and sat once again in his chair.

Grandfather, as I was learning, was not merely cautious. He had become downright paranoid! This thing with his ‘Last Will and Testament’ was just the tip of the iceberg. I had mistakenly chalked it up to his becoming older and sickly. I should have known better. He was more intelligent than that, and so was I.

I looked around once again, slowly turning, wondering what had been so important that he kept an office here. Then it came to me, ‘His Office!’ Then I spotted it. On the far side of the room from his desk, there sat an old-style ‘ticker-tape machine. He hated the damn things as meaningless. He’d recognized them for what they were: a means to manipulate other people into reacting one way or the other in their business dealings, sometimes to their own detriment. They were not all that informative, showing gains and losses, often inciting excitement or fear, and often without any objective justification for it. Men were literally jumping to conclusions and out of windows when it showed the terrible news of the choices, they had made because of one.

More than one Family Head of the Thirteen had died because of them. So now, why would it be here, where he couldn’t help but see it when he despised them so?

Then my grandfather’s words came to me. He would often joke, “some things are better hidden in plain sight,” and there it was. A ticker-tape machine with an old tape that grandfather knew that I would recognize as not belonging.

With the message I found on the tape itself, I quickly found the rest of the clues and put them together with the desk unlocking. Then, after I sat there reading through my grandfather’s notes, I hit the intercom button and asked for one of the doctors by name. When he entered, I stood to greet him, offered him a seat and a cigar, and asked about the weather; -- a code sequence.

Dr. Bellows smiled, looked up, and spoke one word, “Adam?”

After a moment, a voice out of nowhere spoke. “The building and room are secure.”

I was startled to hear the voice, and more so of realizing its meaning.

He then turned back to me, giving me his full attention.

This wasn’t expected, and I looked back at him questioningly. “Okay, Doctor, I’ve had the tour, read the files, can you now show me what my grandfather really wanted me to see?”

Dr. Bellows again smiled, got up, and went back to where the ticker tape machine was. He gave it a slight twist, and a section of the wall lifted into the ceiling. Behind the opening, there was a small but well-equipped lab. He went in, and the same voice that had said the room was secure called out, “Welcome back, Doctor Bellows.”

Again, I was startled to hear the disembodied voice. Welcome back?

I walked in behind him, and the same voice said, “Greetings, Mr. Wolfenstein, please confirm your identity by placing your hand on the glass panel before you.” So, it had called me Mr. Wolfenstein. How had it been known?

I saw the palm reader and did so. I watched a line of light move up and down under my hand, wondering how it knew my name. I then felt a pinprick, causing me to jerk my hand back.

A moment later, the incorporeal voice said, “Sample confirmed. You will no longer be required to provide additional samples. Your Biometrics have been recorded. How may I be of assistance?”

Assistance?

Dr. Bellows said, “Adam, if you would be so kind, please show Mr. Wolfenstein our progress.”

I was at a loss, was this a machine or not, yet Dr. Bellows was speaking to it like it was a person. Having given it a name.

The voice said, “Affirmative. If I may direct your attention to the monitor...” as a monitor came to life.

Thus, I began my briefing, which was anything but brief, on the status of the medical nanobots program. Of which, up to that point, I had thought was a dead end.

While still out of reach for the masses, they had advanced far beyond their so-called press releases, far enough for human testing.

Dr. Bellows indicated that he was hesitant to allow me to become the first guinea pig. Ah, Dr. Bellows was quick to rephrase that. I mean full-fledged test recipient. So was I. While I believed he didn’t want to lose the source of his funding should anything go wrong.

I, on the other hand, with the idea of becoming a guinea pig. With my body being injected with experimental medical nanobots. Like what could possibly go wrong?

He explained that while animal testing had proceeded well. Each of those tests required much of the, so far, produced nanobots.

Those then needed to be recovered at the conclusions of each phase of the testing. That recovery did not always go well with the test subjects. For some, the stress of removal killed the subject.

“Okay, why was that?” I asked.

I was told. The nanomachines had resisted extraction.

Ah, wait, what was that again?

Dr. Bellows repeated the statement. The nanomachines had resisted extraction.

Did they have a choice?

Resisted? How could that be? Weren’t they just mindless machines? Programed to do a specific function. They shouldn’t ... it was too much for me. Did the nanomachines have a choice? A choice might indicate Sentience. I shook that off as being impossible. Computer intelligence hadn’t reached that far...

... But then, neither had medical nanomachines. Until I entered this building, that is. And they had gone beyond animal testing and were ready for human testing. Something told me this would be no simple test.

“Okay.” Stretching that word out in my mind. What did that mean for me? After the conclusions of each phase, would the medical nanomachines need to be extracted from me for study? Would I be so studied?

My grandfather would have been first, but with his death, it was now on me. This was something I had learned from reading his notes. He had intended to be first to try them out, with me being second. When enough of these medical nanobots had been produced. I was now to receive them all.

The need for the nanobots to be recovered after each phase of the testing was what troubled me. Was that going to happen this time, and to what effect would that have on me? The details had been rather vague on that aspect.

The animal test subjects hadn’t been able to communicate their distress other than show outward signs. Would I be subject to these same stresses equally unable to communicate as they removed the medical nanobots from me after each test? In addition, some of the test animals had died.

My mind redirected itself. I now knew that the appearance of the medical group was meant to make it look like a poor business investment, this one more so than others. That was most likely to keep the hostile takeover types from taking an interest in it. But a more minor part had indeed delivered. Where was the real lab that had developed this?

I realized the rest had become mere camouflage. But, again, this was another reminder from my grandfather and one that was not lost on me.

Recalling the detailed listing of the group’s lab officers didn’t list my grandfather or me. Ownership was all deeply buried under shell company after company. Even when an individual shareholder was called, it wasn’t a person’s real name but a legal identity representing the investor. I was well aware of the drill. It was now mine, but there was nothing to definitively link it to me.

My mind was brought back sharply with the words, “ ... Results positive on stage 1037. Animal testing concluded. Nanomite program is now ready for advancement for human testing. Testing to me meant there were unanswered questions, and I was to somehow provide those answers.

“Under ‘Prime Directive Omega.’ human testing of Subject James Adam Wolfenstein, Family Alpha Prime, has been approved for the Immediate implantation.” I was startled. I wasn’t the ‘Family Prime,’ my father was. I then heard a printer at work as forms appeared, and the voice instructed, “If you would, please sign the release forms.”

With the voice making the request, I was a little stunned, and for some reason, I started to look for a pen to sign with.

I was caught up short when I heard my grandfather’s recognizable bark of laughter.

Then his voice, as I heard my grandfather say, “Now, Son, did you really think a release form is, or would be, necessary, or that it would even do you any good?”

Puzzled, I asked, “Grandfather?”

There was a pause before Grandfather’s voice said, “Well, Yes and no. I made this tape ahead of time. A ’just in case I wasn’t alive’ thing. I’m afraid that I threw in a bit of my humor into it.”

Dr. Bellow added that Adam was entirely humorless. I was becoming curious about just what Adam was. And why would Dr. Bellow say Adam was ‘entirely humorless.’ That was my grandfather’s voice, wasn’t it, and not a computer simulation?

It was not until after I had agreed to the nanobots implantation. And to a tiny implant that guided them.

That I realized that Grandfather’s paranoia was based on genuine threats to his life.

“Jim,” my grandfather’s voice said, turning serious, “I do not wish you to delay this. If we had reached this stage while I was still alive, I might still be alive and not in the unfortunate position I now find myself in.”

I guess being dead and buried could be called an ‘unfortunate position.’ I think the only thing that could make it worst is if he owed me money. Bad for me, almost certainly good for him.

I found it curious that my grandfather spoke in the present tense and not in the past tense or future. As if he was here and now. I supposed that at the time of the recording, it was the present.

The voice of Adam assumed the commentary at this point with, “On reports of your grandfather’s alleged death, my programming initialized, ‘Prime Directive Omega.’

On determining your grandfather’s actual death, I was able to retrieve tissues from the autopsy. Following intensive DNA testing to determine the authenticity of the sample.

An in-depth analysis was made to determine the cause of death. Results of toxicity screening indicate poisoning with substances that, in combination and with prolonged exposure, resulted in his demise. Such combinations do not occur in nature—no known industrial use for such a combination exists. Conclusion Mr. Wolfenstein was deliberately poisoned by unknown entities. Recognition and countermeasures are now incorporated in the medical database of the implant, along with all other known toxins.”

Murder!

My grandfather was murdered! It was shocking. Everyone had thought it was an illness that had defied treatment. But to learn it had been a premeditated Murder was chilling.

“Can the results of your findings be used in a court of law?” I asked. Sheesh, was I asking a computer voice a question as if it were a person?

The voice responded, “Negative, the accumulated process occurred over many years. A vigorous defense might argue that any number of causes not related to those compounds might have taken place. In fact, poisoning couldn’t be proven as it would take a long-term study. Something a Judge might not be inclined to give.”

‘Hmm,’ murdered. So, I knew it had been done, yet I couldn’t offer proof of it, nor did I have any idea yet who was responsible.

A long-standing code between the Thirteen Families precluded assassination because, without that caveat, the families would have been wiped out ages ago. That left someone within the family as a possible culprit, a family member. But which one, and did I really want to know that some family member was capable of such an act?

That wasn’t really a question. Whoever it was had already made an attempt on my life. Would one be made on father? Not likely so soon after the reading of the will. My death might have been chalked up to a tragic traffic stop. Yes, those things still happened

YES! Whoever it was, friend or foe, God help them, for they would receive no mercy from me!

Grandfather had been targeted for death. Considering the attempt on my own life, it stood to reason that others had as well. Who and how many? It was something I’d have to consider right away. Should I inform father? Grandfather may have suspected he had been targeted and hadn’t told him. For that matter, he hadn’t informed me. I took that as my cue; I would not say as well. The lesson here is, don’t tip your hand about knowing what you know. It was a case of the Enigma machine code being broken in World War two and keeping that information secret from the enemy.

I hadn’t been poisoned; would I even know if I had been with that compound of ingredients? While I now knew my grandfather had been poisoned/murdered. I had no idea how it had been done. I would have to find out if I had been.

I had moved out of the dorm, memories of Julia, the same with the apartment. Grandfather had gotten me a new place to stay and, with it, a small staff that took care of me. I guess my days of rebelling were coming to an end. Or I just didn’t care enough to continue struggling against it.

Can’t say I had much to complain about. I stopped eating junk food and had lost some weight and, thanks to an excellent personal trainer, was in the best condition of my life. However, memories of Julia once again pushed into the recesses of my mind where they would cause the least pain. Note to self: Nick is to assume the search for Julia now that grandfather is gone. Grandfather was gone. I didn’t want to think of him as dead or having been murdered.

The tapes had helped in some respects, but they were as spooky as they were sometimes helpful.

So, back to the problem at hand. This was about as bad as it gets. The last time something like this happened was over 1350 years ago. There had been fourteen families then; now, there were thirteen. Everyone knew that lesson, yet someone dared to try it again. The other twelve would note another family’s internal conflict and be looking for opportunities to exploit it. There was the scent of blood in the water, and the sharks would be circling.

Then there was another danger. The heads of the family’s branches may start noticing mysterious deaths and act. With Grandfather dead, they would be taking matters into their own hands, and maybe before they even knew for sure who was responsible.

One attempt had been made on my life. So, I wasn’t in the clear. Had I ever been? Sooner or later, another try would be made. I would be deemed a loose end that needed attending to. Grandfather knew. He must have known this was about to happen. Even now, he was doing his best to preserve the family from extinction and protect me.

I hadn’t known I was in danger before. In shock, I wish I could have remained in that blissful state of ignorance, but that was foolishness now. While I had no real love for my family, other than my grandfather, I didn’t wish anyone’s death either. Now I knew at least one of them would sooner or later seek mine.

I asked the faceless voice, “Adam, I - can call you that?”

Adam responded with, “Affirmative, that is my designation.”

Then strengthening my resolve, asked, “What is known of those responsible?”

Then Adam responded with, “Insufficient data. Analysis ongoing. There has been acquirement of signal intelligence upon your entry into the building.”

What? “What kind of signal are you talking about,” I asked. “Why wasn’t I notified immediately.

The voice explained, “Shortly after you entered the building, the building was pinged. Within moments there was an answering encrypted microburst emanating from your proximity. Unfortunately, sensors were not that precise. Exactly where on your body it came from is still undergoing analysis. A second ping has occurred since the room and building were secured. No answering microburst was detected. In conclusion, security at present is adequate. Research into enhancements will be implemented on an ongoing basis.”

“What’s a microburst,” I asked.

The voice answered, “In telecommunication, a burst transmission or a data burst is the broadcast of a relatively high-bandwidth transmission over a short period of a millisecond or less. How much data would depend on the compression techniques.”

This technique is popular with the military and spies. Wishing to minimize the chance of their radio transmissions being detected, a low probability of intercept (LPI), and minimal likelihood of recognition (LPR).

Ordinarily, such transmission is undetectable. But I was alerted by the ping. And was analyzing it when the microburst was broadcast. As it was nondirectional, I was unable to locate the receiver. But given the power, I was able to determine a maxim range of one. It is nearby.”

“How nearby?” was my immediate reply.

“Maximin range would indicate less than one kilometer. Thus, statistically, such a receiver would be much closer to avoid interference.”

This was not my field. “Can I inform Nick?”

“Affirmative but not as long as the room and building remain secure.”

Damn.

“Contact with this ‘Nick’ has been initiated. It may alert those watching. But he has been notified that you have been bugged.”

Adam, “I have hacked his phone and reported what I know. He has made calls, and electric countermeasures are on their way.”

Again, not my field. “What can be done?”

“Insufficient data. Analysis ongoing. There has been acquirement of signal intelligence upon your entry into the building.” The voice repeated. Under ‘Prime Directive Omega.’ Your personal security has been enhanced. While I have only been online for a short while. And only recently has Mr. Wolfenstein been confirmed deceased. My ability has been limited to piggybacking on your people’s security measures.

“Your acquisition of Mr. Wolfenstein’s car was very instrumental in increasing my surveillance. Since you took possession, I was able to hack your phone and keep in contact twenty-four/seven.”

“YOU WHAT?”

The voice went on Nonplussed, “‘Prime Directive Omega.’ Dictated on Mr. Wolfenstein’s death that your life is to be safeguarded at all costs. Whatever means that can be used to accomplish are to be taken!”

There was a pause.

Alert! The vehicle receiving the microburst has been identified. I have notified and advised your security people against direct contact.”

“Nick seems to have other ideas. A man posing as a parking lot enforcement officer is checking cars for parking permits. Tagging those that don’t have them. The tags have a tracking microchip. FYI your vehicle has been tagged. What’s more, is that the surveillance is parked next to yours.

“What? That seems pretty cheeky of them.” I thought.

I asked, “Okay, you advised what and why. And didn’t you say I couldn’t contact Nick?”

Adam, or the machine I was now thinking of as ‘Adam,’ spoke up. “You are correct. You can’t. However, I can. Much of my programming was dictated with Mr. Wolfenstein’s input. While my knowledge of human reasoning is currently limited, I’m directed to follow his. One of those instructions was to observe without alerting those observed.” While it hadn’t been stated so, that had included me. Okay, that sounded like my grandfather.

“Intercepts have been initiated. Tracking such has been initialized. Current probabilities of identity now stand at point .3%.” I mulled that over. It didn’t seem like much, but it was more than I had an hour ago.

The voice went on, “the .3% is due to the vehicle having moved. Improvements will be made as soon as satellite observation has been acquired.” So, this Adam had access to the Families satellites? My life was now in the hands of a computer. Does an AI have hands?

The voice spoke again, saying, “Stage 1038 of the study of nanobots program of human implantation of nanobots and testing awaiting approval.”

Having been startled out of my contemplations of Grandfather’s death. And the possibility of my own. The realization I had been under observation by more than one entity. That now, the ones doing the observing were themselves being watched. And I had no control over any of it.