Page 100 of Mastermind

“I think that’s a question for a lawyer. But would said app work in exactly the same manner as a contact-tracing app and within the same legal boundaries?” I ask.

“That would be a question for a courtroom. Let me put it this way: right now, the only thing standing between us and Heywood granting us access to his system is you. He wants a conviction. Obviously, we can’t promise him an outcome,” says Elliott.

I know where this is going. “But you can ask me for a confession, a guilty plea, and a waiver of my right to a trial.”

“This is bullshit,” says Jessica.

“Agent Blackwood, you were allowed to sit in on this on the condition that you remain quiet,” snaps Elliott.

She stands and points at Elliott. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Blackwood!” shouts Gerald, jumping to his feet. “Out of the room, now!” He ushers her to the door.

“Don’t do it, Theo. There’s another way. There has to be,” she says before the door shuts.

“As you know, Dr. Cray, there is another way. That way is called time,” says Wheeler. “Unfortunately, as we wait for alternatives, people die. What Heywood has presented us could accelerate research by decades. If we can prove the model works, we can get funding to build quantum clusters and systems much more powerful than what he could cobble together.”

“We’d ask for the federal minimum,” says Elliott, returning to the issue at hand. “We can expedite you to a minimum-security prison.”

“We can give you access to research,” says Wheeler.

“All I have to do is take one for the team?” I ask.

“There’s another matter,” adds Elliott. “When Agent Blackwood retrieved you from Myanmar, she forged several government documents to get you out of the country.”

I look over to Gerald. His expression is stone-cold. Did he know about this? Jessica may have intercepted a request, but I’m not aware of any forgery she committed. She’s too smart for that.

I notice that Gerald has underlined something on his notepad and is tapping his pen lightly on it for me to see.

THEY ONLY WANT YOU.

I understand. If I don’t make the choice they want, they’ll come down hard on Jessica and force me.

Fine.

I was ready to die in prison before she found me. I’m ready to die in prison for her now.

“Whatever you want,” I tell them. I feel like adding in that if Heywood’s system doesn’t work out the way they plan, then maybe they should spring me sooner than later. But that’s not the way it works. Worst case, he’ll show only modest improvements to the tech and they’ll keep hoping for a miracle. Best case, his system delivers. Either way, these folks will forget about their promises to me.

“Director Kieren, tell your agents that the IDR can take Dr. Cray into custody,” says Elliott, already breaking one promise.

CHAPTER FIFTY

COLD STORAGE

Lagrange comes to move me. That’s not his name. None of the guards in the Death Star have names, at least not ones they tell us. And by us, I mean the other inmates I assume are in this black-walled detention center. I’ve only passed by the others in the halls. Or at least I assume I have. When they move you from one room to another, they put a hood over your head.

Shortly after Kieren had me escorted out of the conference room, I was hooded, placed on an airplane for three hours, and brought to this facility. A government lawyer explained from the video screen behind the thick sheet of glass in my cell that I would be held indefinitely as a security risk because I had access to state secrets.

Apparently, you can have your citizenship taken from you when the right judge signs a certain document. I’m sure it was a well-intentioned rule to help fight a war on terror through a legal system not meant to fight wars, but like any power, it has the potential for abuse, and whoever holds that power will avoid relinquishing it at any cost.

Lagrange shoves me against a wall. “Stay here.”

His footsteps fade on the concrete floor, and a door closes. My hands are still bound and the hood is still secure around my head.

The Death Star is an interesting place. It’s incredibly efficient, cruel in certain ways, but not in others. I’ve never been brutalized by a guard. The meals are adequate, and my health is checked weekly by a physician. I get the feeling that this is the product of the government learning from other black sites and detention centers.

Somewhere in this facility, I’m convinced there’s an office where they have Christmas parties and plan baby showers. The inmates are numbers on a board and somebody types up a weekly report, then checks Facebook.