Chapter 5: Birthdays

“Wow, dude,” Alan quipped after hearing Peter’s litany of curses, frustrations, and colorful metaphors. “I think somebody needs to switch to decaf. Costco has a new green tea extract that—”

“I don’t get it!” he grumbled after a deep breath, “Code is code. It shouldn’t matter the language, sequencing, or attributes! But every time I run a string through the Tumbler, it defaults to one of the three fault errors.” He was sitting back in his chair with his feet on the desk, gazing at the ceiling, with his cell phone to his ear. They developed the ‘Tumbler’ program to test code blocks before copying them into a program. They named it after the phrase GIGO, ‘garbage in—garbage out,’ while creating Kathy’s game, Oingo Bingo. They envisioned a tumbler cage to dump code into to see the output. As it evolved, the Tumbler would flag and correct errors to make the language strings valid.

“It’s hard to look over your shoulder from nine hundred miles away,” the Korean student sighed. “But, knowing you, I can guess where you’re fucking it up.”

“Gee, thanks for the ego boost,” he muttered.

“You’re welcome,” Alan replied nonchalantly. “There are three issues: either your code is fucked up, or the tumbler is. And since I built the tumbler, I know it’s not that.”

Peter clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to ‘force-choke’ his friend through the phone or hang up. “It’s not my code,” he muttered. “And that’s only two things.”

“Exactly, Sonny,” the Asian mused.

“Huh?”

Another patient sigh, “If your code is precise, but it doesn’t tumble ... then the two aren’t...”

“They aren’t compatible,” he groaned, smacking his forehead. “The tumbler was developed for gaming applications, and I’m writing a binary/non-binary programming language!”

He didn’t notice Alan’s continued silence as his brain thrashed the problem from different angles. “I either need to reconstruct the tumbler...”

Alan made a game show noise, “Negative Ghostrider, the pattern is full...”

“ ... or I need to rethink this from a gamer’s mindset...”

“DING-DING-DING! Vanna, show our contestant what’s behind door number THREE!” the Asian geek quipped, merging two game shows.

Peter was on another level and ignored the bait as he processed the new insight. “But it’s not a game. Gaming code offers fluid interpretation and variable output reactive sequencing—but wait a minute...” he squeezed his temples with one hand as he stared blankly at the ceiling. “Is it possible...?”

Alan stayed quiet, knowing how his friend’s brain worked. He chewed a licorice stick as he paged through a thesis on his dorm room computer.

The silence lasted nearly a minute when Peter suddenly took a sharp breath, “Fuck me! Those brakes! They aren’t sequencing flags! They’re chorus blocks!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

“Chorus, what?” The Asian interjected with a frown. He was only paying fractional attention as he studied. But that fraction was a hundred times the attention span of an average person.

“Kathy said they resembled what she calls chorus breaks! You know how she programmed the musical scores for our games! Whenever there was a scene break or a screen refresh, she’d insert a chorus break. This was a command for the program to play a different action score, like combat or discovery, et cetera!” He began pacing the bedroom, stepping around furry bodies sleeping on the carpet or bed. He reached out to scratch Snowball’s head, where she lay curled up on Kathy’s side and froze.

“Holy shit! That’s it!” he exclaimed. “Dude, I gotta go!”

“Later,” Alan replied offhandedly, knowing the feeling of an epiphany striking and having to bring all your mental faculties to bear on it. He shrugged, grabbed another licorice as he set his cell down, and began scrolling through his thesis.

Hours later, the truck pulled up behind the house. Kathy knew when to leave her husband undisturbed. So, after breakfast, she herded the other two females and babies into the vehicle—with Antoine, their bodyguard for the week—and headed to town to drop Charity off at school and take Lenna for mani-pedis and shopping. They entered the main room late afternoon and gawked at the scene.

Peter sat on the living room floor with notes scattered around him. Instead of studying them with a dour face, he sat benignly wadding up one page at a time and tossing it to one of the dogs, who happily shredded it or into the open fireplace, burning brightly as it consumed the tinder. He turned to look up at their astonished faces and lifted a can of Colt 45 in salute before taking a swig. Three other empty cans lay on the floor amidst the rubbish.

“What the hell...?” Kathy exclaimed as she took it all in. Snowball and her raucous kids began barking and running around happily on their arrival, taking a break from their collateral shredding duties.

Peter belched loudly and struggled to his feet.

Lenna stared at him open-mouthed with one eye arched.

“Howdy!” he blurted drunkenly, accidentally kicking an empty can. “Oops,” he murmured and bent to retrieve the cans for the recycle bin.

“Jesus, babe,” Kathy giggled as she carried two large grocery sacks into the kitchen. “What ... why?” she was at a loss for words as she cautiously hugged him, wrinkling her nose at his breath. “Are you drunk?”

He considered her question, then said, “Buzzed ... yes. Drunk? No.”

Charity shuffled in last, carrying Abi in her arms. She halted in the open doorway as the animals raced by her to check for dangers in the dark. “Holy crap, dude!” she laughed. “You are so busted!”

Lenna set the one-year-old onto her socked feet and bent to take her coat off. “What the hell is all of this?” she asked disapprovingly.

“Um, well,” he replied carefully. “I was gonna ask if you could buy more beer for Brad since I drank a few of his—”

“Why are you...?” she stopped to shake her head as he finished the can and tossed it with the other empties. She stepped carefully around the pile of wadded-up and shredded notes. “Why...?”

“Seriously, sweetheart,” Kathy said while putting the freezer stuff away. “Why are you destroying all of your ledger notes?”

He hiccupped, belched, and winked at Charity, who was grinning at him. “Because I don’t need them anymore, and they must go bye-bye.” He tossed several more wads into the flames before placing the safety gate back in place. “It’s all hush-hush now.”

Kathy gazed at him in sudden understanding, and her eyes widened. “You, did it?” she gasped. “You figured it out?”

He nodded smugly toward their bedroom. “Check it out.”

Charity handed the baby to her mom as they entered the bedroom. Peter’s computer sat on a desk to the right, where he could work without glare on his monitors. They found the screens flashing as lines of characters scrolled vertically faster than the eye could follow. Square frames would appear on each screen to reveal more character sequences before disappearing. The black tower beside the monitors made buzzing sounds and scratchy clicks as it worked.

All three women stared at it in amazement. “What is that?” Charity asked, staring in awe.

“That,” Peter replied proudly. “Is Genesis.”

“What is it doing?” Kathy breathed as she held onto his arm.

“It’s building itself,” he replied eagerly.

“What?” she balked. “How?”

“That is some real, no-bullshit artificial intelligence,” he nodded. “I’m talking big-bang shit!” He was gushing like a proud new parent.

“What do you mean?” Lenna asked.

He stepped back and faced her while gesturing. “Most computer programming follows a linear sequence,” he explained with flat, sweeping side-to-side gestures. “You build it into a block-like structure. Like a building ... you make on the floor, then add another, and so on.

“They can operate side-to-side, up-and-down, front-to-back, and in circles.” He finished his gestures and pointed at the monitors. “That’s quantum-level shit right there!” He cupped his hands and pulled them apart diagonally. “It’s literally exploding outward in all directions.”

“Holy shit,” Kathy breathed as she rested her head against his shoulder, gazing at the busy monitors. “All of that came from the black ledger?”

He laughed, “No, babe,” he smiled. “The ledger was like a book of instructions...” he frowned. “No ... maybe like the musical sheets a composer uses to direct a huge symphony. Then he ... or she tells all the other components or instrument players ... whatever—the conductor tells these things to do something according to the specific instructions (or music sheets) for that instrument. Altogether, it causes an opera or concert that fills an auditorium. Then ballet dancers perform to their scripted choreography based on the music created by the conductor ... Only Genesis is infinitely bigger!”

“How long will it take to build itself?” she asked.

He grinned and shook his head. “I have no idea,” he replied. “I suspect it will go on indefinitely. But hopefully, it’ll reach a point where I can use it to figure out what Jeremiah crammed in there. Could be a Genie in a bottle,” he replied casually. “Or Pandora’s box.”

“ ... so, call Bob “Firemaker” Bodaway ... for all your crop-dustin’ needs...”

Peter looked across the living room to the large television that Charity was sprawled in front of with Frodo and Pippin, two of Snowballs’ pups. She drew on her sketch pad, with pop-up videos providing background noise. She snatched a colored pencil from Pippin’s mouth and lightly bopped his nose.

A flamboyant Native American man in jeans, cowboy boots, and a leather bomber jacket, with a ‘Fly-Navy’ ball cap over his mirrored aviator sunglasses, gave two thumbs up toward the camera before the screen flickered to show a bright yellow biplane skimming across a field at less than twenty feet above the ground, spraying a cloud of chemicals behind it.

“And be sure to come out and support me at the Reno Air Races, going down September 20th, at Sky Ranch, Nevada ... Apache Proud!”

The screen switched to show older military planes roaring across the sky in a loose non-formation, swooping between tall telephone poles with brightly painted drums on top. They were loud and powerful, and a couple trailed white or colored smoke as they banked widely and roared after each other.

He turned back as the phone rang in his ear.

“Sup, slim?” he heard from the other end.

“I did it,” he replied smugly.

“Ah! Congratulations, Cher!” Maggy replied with mock gravity. “I hear that first shave is quite the rite of passage for a young man...”

Walked right into that one! He rolled his eyes.

After an awkward silence, she capitulated, “I’m just playing with ya, Cher,” she added contritely. “If it’s about the security detail next week, Linette is orienting with Gerald and Stewart the week after. She served in the FFL—can you believe that?”

He waited quietly.

“Erm ... none of which is germane to this conversation—” she hesitated. “So, what did you...” He heard a gasp. “Oh!” she stammered. “You mean you REALLY did it?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Holy...,” she whispered. “Please tell me you’re serious. I swear I’ll come over there right now and sit on your face!” she promised.

He grinned. “Might want to hit the road,” he replied. “This is unbelievable, and we need to talk. About a lot of things.”

He heard a burst of activity on the other end. “I’m catching a helicopter to Whiteriver airport. Can you send Antoine to get me?”

“Got it.”

“Oh God! Is it...?” she asked with bated breath.

“Not over the phone,” he warned. “And yes. It is.”

Lenna was upset with him for not giving her sufficient notice about their ‘dinner guest.’ So, she raced into town for groceries and returned with all the fixings for lasagna, salads, and garlic bread. While Kathy helped her in the kitchen, Peter slipped behind the distraught Apache woman and placed his arms around her waist. Kathy glanced over and smirked.

“What are you doing?” Lenna asked nervously as he kissed the back of her head.

“I don’t thank you enough for your hospitality and everything you’ve done for Kathy and me these last couple of months,” he crooned into her lustrous black hair.

She stopped working and placed her hands over his. “It’s nothing,” she murmured, leaning back into him. “After everything you’ve done for me ... for all of us—Jac, Abi, Charity ... and the community.” She turned around in his arms and welcomed his tender kiss. “I don’t thank you enough,” she pressed her cheek into his chest, looking at Kathy, “Either of you.”

Kathy set down her knife and vegetables and wiped her hands on a tea towel before stepping over to gently hold the woman’s face. She kissed her and hugged them both. “God, I love you!” she whispered. They stood in a group, hugging momentarily before she stepped back and resumed cutting and dicing.

“If you want to...” Lenna stammered. “I’m okay with...” She suddenly lost her words as she swallowed nervously.

“What?” Peter encouraged.

Kathy looked back at her curiously.

Lenna pressed her forehead onto his chest and knotted her fingers in his shirt. “Oh God,” she breathed. “I feel so stupid right now!”

“What is it?” he asked earnestly.

She sighed in frustration. “If you want to breed me!” she said in a rush. “You have but to ask, and I’ll stop my birth control...” her soft voice faded meekly.

Peter and Kathy glanced at each other in shock. “Breed?” he repeated.

She moaned and pounded her fists lightly against him. “Ugh! So stupid!” she growled. “I meant ... not like a dog! I meant ... you know,” she sniffed and pulled away to look in his face and then over at Kathy. “I’m sorry, that sounded stupid. I know you guys are married now, so maybe our—”

“Threesomes?”

She nodded as the other woman regarded her nose-to-nose with a warm smile. “I don’t plan on giving up the greatest sex I’ve ever had,” Kathy stated clearly before leaning in and kissing the woman again. “You are always welcome in our bed. With or without me.”

Lenna nodded with relief in her soft eyes. “It’s just that you guys are just getting started, and you’re both young with so much to do before you decide to ... you know,” she stammered in Peter’s arms.

“We’ll have children soon enough,” he replied confidently, gazing into Kathy’s vibrant gray eyes. “When the time is right.”

She nodded, shivering in his arms. “I know. I’m excited for you both. But as I was um...”

He kissed her head again. “Oh sweety, your offer is a wonderful gesture...”

“I want another baby!” she blurted nervously.

Peter blinked in surprise and saw the same amazement in his wife’s eyes.

Lenna gently pushed away and gazed into his startled face worriedly. “But only if it’s yours,” she added emotionally. “I love you!” she whispered. “I love you both!”

Kathy set down her utensils and pulled the woman into a tight hug. “Oh my God!” she whispered back.

“I promise, I’m not asking for anything more,” she sniffed. “You both have given me so much, and we have more than we will ever need—”

Kathy laughed tearfully as she clung to the woman and turned her face to gaze at her husband. ‘Please say yes, ’ she mouthed over Lenna’s shoulder.

He felt a rush of emotion as he nodded back to her.

Magdelaine entered the Living room, past the dark-skinned Nigerian security guard, as he held the door for her.

“Thank you, Antoine,” she murmured politely as Peter took her coat. She wore an exotic floral and leopard print silk blouse with a white silk skirt and heels, which she promptly doffed after kissing Kathy’s cheek. She gave Lenna a similar peck and handed her a bouquet and a bottle of Italian Pino Grigio.

Lenna was stunned by the gesture and blushed as she put the bottle on the table and searched for a suitable vase.

“It’s wonderful to see you again,” Maggy said, looking around. “What a lovely home!” Her eyes lit up when Charity charged out of her room, followed by four fluffy dogs, nearly bowling her over with a hug.

“Antoine, will you join us for dinner?” Kathy asked the guard warmly.

He smiled back at her, showing teeth that seemed whiter in contrast to the darkness of his skin. “Alas, Miss Katherine,” he replied in a soft voice thick with his native accent. It took her most of his first week of rotation to get him to address her by her first name. “I must decline your gracious offer as I’ve already eaten.”

“Dessert?” she persisted, “Lenna made bread pudding again. Char will bring it out to you.”

His eyes sparkled with mirth. “And that is an offer I cannot refuse,” he bowed his head and backed out, closing the door.

“Come!” Charity demanded urgently, pulling Maggy’s arm. “Check out my room. I made something for you!”

Peter and Kathy smiled as they went to help Lenna set the table.

“After dinner, we’re going to take Maggy into our room and close the door for privacy,” he said quietly. “Please don’t be offended, but we must discuss some sensitive things.”

Lenna nodded, “I understand. We’ll leave you alone.”

“Oh, Mon Dieu, Cheri!” Maggy’s voice exclaimed from the teenager’s room. “Magnifique!” She reappeared incredulously, “Have you seen this child’s art?” she exclaimed. She held a large sheet from one of the girl’s sketch pads. She gazed back at it with wide eyes, holding a delicate hand over her mouth.

Peter stopped in the room, holding a large salad bowl. “Don’t just stand there all Gob smacked ... show us!”

Charity followed her out with a bright, cherubic smile.

It was a hand-drawn portrait of the woman, with fine detail and exquisite shading. It was almost like a mirror image of the Creole woman. It captured her chiseled Mediterranean cheekbones, nose, and soft, penetrating eyes that, even now, gazed in wonder at the image. Her jet-black hair had wavy curls and spiked ends. The black-and-white sketch had incredible shading for character and depth. Charity added subtle coloring within her irises, perfectly capturing her gunmetal gray-green eyes. She highlighted the eyes with light pastel blue, pink, and gray streaks to render the upper eyelids in dusty mauve. Deep blue lines in her dark hair gave it a glistening sheen. The picture captured the intense spirit, energy, and intelligence in her features.

“Wow, Char,” Kathy cooed appreciatively. “That’s pretty good.”

Maggy regarded her with a scandalized expression, “Pretty good!” she balked. “It’s incredible! I absolutely love it!”

“Meh, not bad,” Peter quipped. She glared daggers at him.

“I’m going to frame this!” she declared as she sat demurely on the loveseat. “And hang it...” she tapped her chin thoughtfully before smiling at the girl. “I know just where to put it!” Then she hugged the teenager and kissed her cheek. “Thank you so very much for this, Charity! I will treasure it always.”

The girl assumed an ‘ah shucks’ pose before plopping beside her.

“It almost seems alive,” Maggy breathed as she looked over the Genesis program at his desk. The idle screen showed a rotating Canterbury Consortium logo with alternate wedges detaching and reattaching. Pressing any key dispersed the logo and revealed a busy screen full of multi-colored frames, with flashing cursors and text blocks that seemed to demand action by growing and shrinking.

“It is,” Peter replied, standing over her shoulder. “Think of it as an electronic brain programmed to gain knowledge, discover secrets, and access the most secure networks globally.”

“Why is it so ... restless?” she asked, lacking a better term.

“Aptly put,” he chuckled. “And because I haven’t ... erm, released it yet.” He held up the disconnected phone cable. “I was waiting for you before I went online. I don’t know what will happen when we do.”

She sat back and tapped her teeth with a nail as she considered his words. “I’ve trusted Jeremiah’s character and judgment above all else. I still do,” she muttered. “And I’ve known him far longer than you.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled. “Before we do this...” He ejected a shiny disk from his CD-ROM, slipped it into a mylar sleeve, and handed it to her. He grabbed a writing pad. “Pick the PC you’ll use to install this,” he said, writing an alphanumeric code. “You’ll need to enter this code when prompted.” She nodded after memorizing it. “Enter it precisely, or you’ll be shopping for a new computer,” he warned. She glanced at the code again, nodding. He tore the printed sheet and several others from the pad, wadding them up. “Be right back,” he said, tossing them into the stove. After closing the door again, he grabbed the modem cable. “Once you load the disk and enter the code, it will pull Genesis off the net and install it. The CD will be useless afterward, but destroy it anyway.” He held up the cable. “Shall we?”

She took a deep breath and nodded.

He plugged the cable into his modem and used the mouse to activate a pulsing button in the corner of his left monitor. With the single click of his mouse, in a simple, nondescript triple-wide home in the middle of nowhere, he forever altered the course of the electronic age.

They heard the tower start the scratchy dial-up and synchronization sequence, and the monitors became active. Text boxes flashed confirmation messages and spiraled off the screen to disappear and be replaced by others. Dozens of frames initiated commands and shot into cyberspace, allowing dozens more to repeat the sequence. As the minutes passed, the system became familiar with its environment, and the process sped up.

They sat back and watched—each wondering what the hell they had unleashed.

“File search and retrieval seems intuitive and redundant,” she remarked while experimenting with the program. It worked under a unique operating system and incorporated multiple databases and spreadsheet formats, with a global search engine that narrowed your parameters as you input them.