Algorithm (Nanoverse Book 1) by Theophilus Monroe

Author:Theophilus Monroe [Monroe, Theophilus]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2021-10-27T16:00:00+00:00

Dr. Flat relaxed on a chaise in his study, gripping his tablet with his left hand. He used the index finger of his right hand to navigate the nanofeeds he was monitoring. Nauhaus was drunk again. Hail to the Chief. He still couldn’t locate Goff’s feed—he was somewhere in the resistance. Even the short reading he’d received the day before, the moment the Resistance broke into Leavenworth, was broken up, each disjointed bit of data separated by a slew of error messages. Still, it was enough.

Flat knew that Goff’s ability to command the nanobots would prove too alluring for the resistance to ignore.

Flat also knew what it felt like. The earlier Nanovax prototype that he’d received, himself, had difficulty restraining its communications to a single body. The prototype, in fact, was more powerful than the model eventually used for Nanovax.

Still, Flat couldn’t explain these gaps in the data feed. The same gap had happened just before Flat had ordered Goff’s seizure from the park. Now, the gap happened right in the middle of the resistance’s attempt to rescue Carlos. It just didn’t make sense.

Flat took a deep breath and set his tablet on the end table beside him. Placing each of his hands on the seat of the chaise, Flat rose to his feet and stepped toward the window overlooking the White House’s majestic front lawn.

A light breeze forced the blades of grass on the lawn to flutter. A group of tourists posed for a picture in front of the White House gates. A group of three or four protesters—libertarians, who objected to the mandate, even though they were now all injected—carried signs objecting to the martial law declaration, still in effect, that had allowed the use of the algorithm. Flat looked a little more closely. “Free Goff,” one sign said. “The Algorithm is a Communist Lie,” said another.

Flat chuckled. With the swipe of a finger, he knew he could identify the protestors and have them each arrested. Protestors in front of the White House, planning a terrorist attack. The narrative practically wrote itself.

Flat walked back and grabbed his tablet from the end table where he’d laid it down before. With a few taps and swipes on his tablet, he quickly identified the protestors.

“This is too easy,” Flat said out loud to himself. But then another idea occurred to him. Flat swiped his finger across the screen and selected an individual from the group of tourists, now gathering their things.

A large man—that will do.

“My apologies, sir,” Flat said. “But I only require your services for a moment.”

A few more swipes and Flat noticed the man, earlier laughing and carrying on with his friends, now standing, stoically, against the fence. Flat spoke into his tablet.

“Proceed down the sidewalk toward the protesters,” Flat ordered as he watched the man move as directed. Flat chucked a bit to himself as he noticed the man’s family turn and shout something in the man’s direction.

“Charge the protestors,” Flat spoke into the tablet, “tackle the first one you meet.

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