The Doomsday Code

CHAPTER 12

1994, UEA campus, Norwich

Maddy checked her watch: they had a few minutes to spare before the portal was due to open. The return coordinates were outside, beside a service entrance behind the university’s pool building. It was gone 2 a.m. and the hustle of life after dark on the campus had died down to the snuffling of a fox going through bags of rubbish nearby and the far-off wail of a police siren.

‘Becks?’

‘Yes.’

‘I need to discuss something. It’s something that — ’ She frowned as she tried to find the right words. ‘It’s something I’ve been keeping from the other two, because … well, because I have to. But I need someone else to talk to about it. It’s driving me nuts.’

‘You wish to talk to me confidentially?’

‘Yes … but I know everything I say to you becomes data. Everything you see, hear, becomes data that’s available to the others.’

‘I can partition my hard drive and create a folder that is accessible only after a certain code word is used. Data that is acquired while the partition is open will be stored there. The partition can be closed again and access-locked with the use of the same or a different code word.’

‘Do you mean everything you hear, see …? If we were to have a conversation while this partition is open, the memory of it would remain in there? Would remain a secret?’

‘That is correct. My normal functioning AI would also not be aware of those memories until you activated them with the code word.’

Maddy understood. It would almost be as if Becks was operating as a schizophrenic: a person with a multiple-personality disorder, unaware of the actions of the other personality. A little bit weird, to be honest. But she needed someone to help her make sense of things, someone to help her connect the dots. Something was going on out there, someone wanted her to know something … just her.

‘Do that, please, Becks: set up your separate partition.’

‘Affirmative.’

Becks’s eyes blinked rapidly, her cool emotionless gaze lost and far away for a moment.

‘Information: partitioned drive ready. Please provide an access code.’

‘What — anything? Any word?’

‘Recommendation: three words one after the other that would not normally appear next to each other in sequence during a normal conversation. This would provide adequately strong security.’

‘What, like … banana — alien — jigsaw?’

‘Correct. Is this your code-word sequence?’

‘No, hang on. I’d forget that. Let me think.’ She rubbed at her chin thoughtfully as the police siren faded, leaving the night still, quiet.

‘OK, this’ll do: iPad — Caveman — Breakfast.’

‘This is your code-word sequence?’

‘Yes.’

Becks blinked again. ‘Security measure activated. The partition is open.’ She turned slowly to look at Maddy. ‘I am listening, Maddy.’

‘OK.’ Maddy puffed a breath. ‘OK … this is what I’ve been keeping from Liam and Sal. When we went to get some new clone foetuses, back before that whole dinosaur mess — before you were grown, Becks — we got the foetuses from the San Francisco drop point, the one based in 1906. There was this secure deposit box where we found a crate of refrigerated embryos. But also there was this note … all scribbled, like somebody had tried to sneak it in real quick. It was a message addressed to me, for my eyes only. Liam didn’t see it. So it’s just me knows about it.’

Becks nodded. ‘Do you wish to tell me what the message was?’

‘You promise me this is all secret?’

She nodded. ‘It is password protected. When you have finished discussing the matter with me and speak the code-word sequence, my normal AI will only be aware that a duration of time has passed without sensory data being collected.’

‘Right. OK. Well, this was what the note said: Maddy, look out for “Pandora”, we’re running out of time. Be safe and tell no one.’

Becks nodded and looked at her. ‘This is why you instructed Liam not to come along on this mission?’

‘That’s right. And … obviously, when I saw the phrase this Adam guy decoded and posted publicly, it contained the word Pandora.’ She bit her lip for a moment. ‘My God, Becks … I can only think it’s someone trying to contact me through this Voynich thing?’

‘The Voynich Manuscript is approximately nine hundred years old.’

‘I know! I know! That’s what’s so creepy! Somebody nearly a thousand years ago wants to talk to me! Why?’

‘I have no data to answer that.’

‘And what was that weird stuff Adam said he had to tell me?’

‘Seek Cabot at Kirklees in 1194.’

‘What’s a Cabot? Or who?’

‘I have no data at this time.’

‘We have to go back there, Becks. If “1194” is a year! We’ve got to go back to that time and find out what Pandora means, what it refers to. And why it’s me — me, of all people, who needs to know.’

‘That would seem the logical next step.’ Becks raised a hand. ‘I am detecting tachyon particles.’

Maddy looked at her watch. They’d run out of time to talk this through; the portal was moments away from arriving. ‘Becks, can we talk about this again?’

‘Affirmative. You should close the partition with the code-word sequence now. When you wish to resume this conversation, repeat the sequence to open my drive.’

‘OK. Here it is, then: iPad — Caveman — Breakfast.’

Becks blinked rapidly several times, then her head cocked on one side, curious. ‘I appear to have two minutes thirty-two seconds of unlogged time.’ She turned to Maddy. ‘Did I malfunction in any way?’

The air in front of them pulsed, stirring plastic bags and newspapers into chasing each other in the dark. Ahead she could see the shimmering forms of their colleagues: Sal waving, Liam doing bunny ears behind her head.

‘No, you’ve been just fine, Becks. Perfectly fine. Let’s go home, shall we?’