In progress manuscript for evaluation only. Please do not distribute without the author's permission

Please do not distribute without the author's permission.

Empty Lies
A novel of suspense.
By D. H. Cope
Length @80,000 words

The characters and events in this book are fictitious.

Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental

and not intended by the author.

Acknowledgments

1.
I stood quietly looking up at the night sky. Three in the morning. All I could see was a blinking red light, thirteen crescent moons, and a white stripe of bright light. The building was dark otherwise. Completely dark. Unusual even for this early hour, since the custodians typically worked throughout the night cleaning the thirty-six floors of the mess created by the hundreds of workers during the day.

The blinking red light was the radio tower for one of the larger radio stations in the city. The crescent moons were reflections of the real crescent moon just now near the horizon. Why only thirteen windows were in correct position to do this struck me as odd. Maybe they’d been left open. Against company policy, but during New York’s August heat, some people couldn’t wait until they got here in the morning to let in the cooler air. The stripe of white light was the thirteenth floor  yes we have one of those  where a group of men and one woman awaited my arrival.

I stood in the parking lot staring at the building, waiting for someone to tell me what to do. I knew I had to go in the building and take the elevator up. But what then? I’d traveled from North Dakota all the way here. Six hours in planes and taxies. Plenty of time to think. Yet nothing had occurred to me along the way. Just as confused now as when I’d woken up that morning. I knew I had to do something. But what?

I could hear the nearby Interstate hum with the traffic that never stops, feeding the city that never sleeps. Yet the streets around me were completely quiet. As if the arteries of the city only connected to other cities, and left those of us along the way out of the loop during the night. Probably true.

I wondered if a low flying airplane might mistake the blinking red light as another plane, and plow under it directly into the building, since only its lighted thirteenth floor gave away its presence. But the sky was empty of aircraft except for highflying intercontinental flights taking sleepy passengers to Venice, Rome, and other worldly ports. I imagined myself there. Trying to speak Italian and enjoying the gelato.

Of course, all this was getting me nowhere. I was due on that thirteenth floor in less than ten minutes. And still had no reasonable, or unreasonable for that matter, plan. Maybe I just couldn’t imagine what lay beyond the door. Of seeing Cassie again. Of being powerless to help her, even with my experience in the martial arts. I couldn’t see any way I’d leave that room alive. But I had to take the chance. For otherwise Cassie wouldn’t leave that room alive either. Of course, she probably wouldn’t leave it alive anyway. Whether I showed or not. But I had to try.

I thought back then to the night it had all begun. A not so summer’s eve two months previous when, as the snow lightly fell, I’d had visitors in the small college town in northern North Dakota where I teach. Sometime in late February, I think.

The sun had just ducked behind a cloud near the western horizon. God I hated this place. North Dakota in the winter. Hostile. Frigid. Beautiful. Like an old grizzled grandfather, full of horseshit but somehow lovable at the same time. Maybe I didn’t hate it after all.

I first saw them reflected in a window of a mom and pop grocery I passed. Big guys. One of them going to fat, but the other still feeling his oats. Their faces had that look of anger modified by the slight indecision some get just before a one-sided fight. I was probably an unknown, though not a particularly big target. They may not have heard I knew something about one of those Asian martial arts. Bokator from Cambodia. Not for the feint of heart.

“God,” I thought, “Not this again.” Less than a year ago, something like this had happened to me. Twice. Once with a baseball bat. A long story. Too long. For now, I’d have to do something about the situation here and now. And fairly quickly.

I turned around and they stopped. No guns. No baseball bats. Just a couple of tough guys no doubt paid to rough me up for some reason. Closed fists. Maybe rolls of pennies inside. I didn't look so rough. A college professor no less, so what could I possibly do to them?

"Help you boys with something?" I said. Maybe I shouldn't have put it that way. 'Boys' probably wasn't how they saw themselves. They were men. One of them even proved it then by growling softly. Loud enough so I could hear.

Neither made an attempt to answer my question. Or maybe by moving slowly in my direction they figured I'd get the picture. I did.

I probably should have turned and taken off then. I could probably outrun them. But, it was a small town, and they’d find me again and maybe jump me without warning. Not a pretty picture. They were giving me plenty of warning now. Time to take advantage of it if I could.

They made the mistake of coming toward me side by side. Easier for them that way. Easier for me as well. Save me energy. I timed my move when they'd reached about three yards away. Gave me room to defend myself by attacking, plus a couple of feet for me to get a running start. As I suddenly charged forward, I saw two sets of eyes enlarge and then realize what was about to happen. Then I lost sight of them as my feet left the ground, one aimed at each head. Once airborne I'd take a good fall, but if it went right they'd feel a lot more of it than I would. I cocked my knees slightly for a little extra firepower and then stiffened them straight so I wouldn't break my caps. My left foot struck pay dirt first, catching the attacker on my left square in the jaw. I didn't want to think what his teeth would look like after. Then the one to my right caught a sudden nosebleed. I could feel the difference in my legs. Bone versus cartilage. Quite a contrast. More from their perspective I imagined then from mine.

I hit the ground on my back and slid a few feet over the ice. I kept my neck up at an angle to avoid hitting it directly and saving me additional injury. My back wasn't too happy with me though. When I stopped, I laid my head back down and let my heartbeat fall below two hundred. I could feel the lactic acid burning in my legs and the adrenaline turning on me. Too much and nowhere to go. My lungs had stopped working and I got that feeling of being hit broadside by a linebacker after catching a long pass. Nothing like being unable to breathe.

When I could sit up again, I did. Turned and looked behind me at the carnage I'd caused. Two big guys laid out flat in the snow. Both bleeding and both out cold. Not a lot of pity in me at that moment, for I knew they'd have happily done worse to me. And they looked peaceful, while I hurt all over. Especially my back, which had taken the brunt of it. I tried to remember if I’d saved any pain medication from the last time I’d tried this. Couldn’t remember.

“Jesus, Francis, not again.” I must have ducked slightly at the sound of his voice, because he was smiling broadly when I looked up and saw him. Patton. Patton Wise, to be exact. An on again, off again friend. And Chief of Police, or so I assumed. Everyone just called him Patton, which he didn’t seem to mind.

“Attacked me first,” I said in self-defense.

“So you say. Who are they?”

“Never saw them before.” I waited for one of his wisecracks. Didn’t get one. “Do you know them?”

“Hell, their mothers wouldn’t recognize those two.” He grabbed his walky-talky and called it in. Our little town, university or not, had poor cell phone reception. Still the dark ages in some parts of North Dakota.

“Still alive, you think?” he added.

“Hope so. Didn’t do that much damage.”

I stood up then. I shouldn’t have. Patton levitated for a moment as I attempted to gain equilibrium.

“Let’s take a walk,” he said. “I hear the sirens and need to get a statement from you in a quiet place for a change.”

And we did take a walk. Down to the police station. Until eleven o’clock that night. The two guys, it seemed, were wanted in several states on assault and battery charges. Got me off the hook.

When I finally arrived at my apartment that night, three other guys I didn’t know were waiting for me at the front door. Escalating their numbers it seemed.

3.
All three of them smiled at me. Those pasted on kinds of smiles that used-car salesmen tend to use when just about to seal a deal with a patsy. They wore suits under their fur coats, with their ties still neatly in place. Not the same types of goons I’d met that afternoon. Good cop, bad cop routine?

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I said, about to add ‘gentlemen’ to that, but figuring given my earlier experience I’d make them earn that distinction.

“Professor Francis, I presume,” the one on my far left said. A high-pitched voice with a bit of New England accent attached to it. “We’d like to talk with you a few moments this evening, if you don’t mind that is.”

“Little late for that don’t you think?”

“Not at all, Professor Francis. It won’t take long.”

I looked at the three of them. Didn’t look like wolves in sheep’s clothing. But I didn’t feel like any more talking today. Patton’s grilling had pretty much taken care of my conversations for the evening.

“If you need one, we can provide an incentive.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, or the brief look of anger in his face. Suddenly none of them looked that pleasant. Maybe it was the time of night and my mood, but I’d had it with mano e mano.

“Look. Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow. I’ve had a busy day teaching and, frankly a busier evening.”

“Ten minutes, Professor. All we ask.”

We’d spent nearly that already, I thought. But maybe it was the only way to get rid of them.

“Ten minutes. That’s it?”

“Yes.”

As I walked toward them, they stepped politely aside so I could unlock my door. The angry looks had been replaced by smiley faces, pasted on for my benefit.

After we’d found our seats, I waited briefly for them to begin. Damned if I was going to offer them refreshments. This was their party and they’d have to host it.

“Professor Francis, you work with artificial life at the university here. Is that right?”

“Yes.” Short and sweet.

“We’ve read a bit about one of you programs that apparently could, at least at one time, be a significant threat against the Internet.”

“Until I defanged it. Yes.”

“Defanged it?”

“Made it harmless, so no one could use it for that.”

“Yes. Well, we have an idea that could use something like that for peaceable ends. We feel it would be of great benefit to you, your research, and, of course, us. We like to give you a brief summary of our plans if you don’t mind.”

“Your ten minutes,” I said. “Actually eight minutes, now.”

The one who’d done all the talking, sat back and let the man in the middle continue. His voice was low and slow. Perfect for a professor.

“Put simple, Professor Francis, we’d like you to build an invisible computer virus. All it would do would be to show a window on the screen that says nothing of importance to users except to make the computer inoperative for however long it appears there. Randomly shows up. Randomly stays. Then randomly disappears. No damage done, really. No destruction of property. Everything returns to normal when it’s not present.”

I thought about that briefly.

“There would be destruction of intellectual property. Users wouldn’t be just annoyed, but they could be seriously interrupted to the extent that their work would suffer. Besides that, what would be the point?”

“The point would be that it would be annoying. And everyone would want the antivirus. That’s the second part of your job. Build the antivirus to kill the virus so their machines would run right again.”

“You want me to create a virus and then create an antivirus for that same virus?”

“Yes. Think of it this way. We give the virus away to the world. Millions, maybe billions of computers would be affected. They can’t fix it because it’s invisible. Then our corporation appears with a product to fix it.”

“And that would cost something.”

“Yes. Say ten dollars a pop. At a billion users that would net ten billion dollars. Enough for everyone to say have a significant part of the take. How would fifty million dollars sound for your research? Or for yourself?”

“It’s illegal.”

“Probably. Though Joe here, the best legal counsel for such things available, says that it’s probably mostly legal. Since nothing’s harmed and the virus is invisible, no one could ever prove we’d created the annoyance. And, of course, we counteracted it in the end anyway. No harm, no foul. The whole operation would probably take three months from beginning to end. Three months from now you could be the richest computer scientist in the world, professor.”

I let my mind play around with that for a minute. They still had five minutes left.

“My lab crew could be in the middle of an experiment when that window appears. It could jeopardize the experiment being conducted.”

“No. It would simply delay it for a time. Nothing in the experiment would change from the time the window appeared until it disappeared, In fact, the delay might be just the thing for your ‘crew’ to think of a better way to make things work. Who’s to say? I’m sure you’ve had more natural events that interrupted things in your work and afterwards found the delay was actually a blessing in disguise.”

He was damn right about that. I couldn’t help smiling.

“See. I can tell from your grin that you’ve experienced that during your career. We all have. You see, in a way, everybody wins. Sure, the world’s population is out ten bucks apiece, but who couldn’t afford that?”

“Eight minutes,” I said.

“We’ve finished, Professor Francis. That’s it. Plain and simple. We hope to recruit you to do something we think you’ll find fairly easy in order for you and us both to make a great deal of money at literally no risk whatsoever.”

I looked at him. He proposed a kind of chain letter scheme that would net us as the origins of the chain a great deal of money with the last in the chain losing only a quarter tank of gas money.

“We don’t expect an answer now, Professor Francis. Take your time. We’ll be in town for the next couple of days and will get back to you after you’ve had a chance to think it over.”

“It could probably work,” I said, “but there are so many potential problems in it that I couldn’t begin to entertain getting involved.”

“Such as?”

“Taxes. We just suddenly become multi-millionaires without paying taxes? And where do we tell the IRA where the money comes from.”

“Joe here has that all worked out. Tell everyone the truth.”

“The truth?”

“Well, leaving out the part that we created the virus, of course. We just tell the IRA that we hired you to come up with an antivirus, you did, and we made the money in a windfall. We pay our taxes in full. Hard to see all that money go to Uncle Sam, but then, consider it helping to pay back some of the national debt. You see, Professor Francis, everybody wins. Even the government.”

“Ten minutes are up,” I said.

They stood as one and stuck out their hands as if to seal some kind of deal.

“I’ll give it some thought,” I finally said. “But don’t count on it,”

“Thank you. And we’ll call you. Not the other way around.”

“By the way, did you send two thugs after me today?”

They turned and looked at one another. The reaction was authentic. They hadn’t.

“What are you talking about?”

“Forget it. Do you guys have a name?”

“We do, but there’s no reason for you to know it yet. If we do business we’ll let you know it. Oh, and please don’t mention our meeting tonight with anyone. We prefer, for obvious reasons that you keep that information to yourself.”

He smiled at me then. Not sincerely, but a smile nonetheless.

And they left me alone with my thoughts. Such as they were. And the pain, left over from my early evening’s meeting with a pair of single-digit IQ thugs.
4.
I would have pulled out my laptop and done a search on my visitors had I anything to search for. Joe was the only actual name they’d given. He was the lawyer. How many lawyers in the country named Joe? I didn’t want to think about it.

Fifty million dollars sounded pretty good given the funding, or lack thereof, I’d received for my research over the last decade. But at what cost would this support come? Certainly I’d lose my integrity. Probably my sanity over worrying about potential incarceration for the rest of my life. Who knew what else? I wouldn’t do it. Go to bed and forget about it, I told myself. And I did. At least the first part. I went to bed. But I didn’t sleep much.

I finally took a couple of pain pills I’d saved for a year or so for just such an occasion. Afterward I fell asleep and dreamt of Cassie. A dream I’ll keep to myself, thank you very much.

I took my time taking a shower, trimming my beard, and making breakfast, brunch, lunch, or whatever I preferred to call it. Coffee first, and then eggs and toast. Took my time to eat to start the day off right.

The kitchen window gave me a glimpse of an overcast day, but no snow falling that I could see. Cold, for sure, but at least navigable. I didn’t own a car, so I walked everywhere. That could be tricky given the weather. But having a car didn’t make things much easier. I could often walk when others couldn’t drive. I took a bus to get distances. A lot safer than me trying to drive on the often icy and dangerous roads.

Then I called Cassie to get her opinion of what my Friday meant. She often had insights that eluded me. We used landlines for the most part here, since the reliability of cell phones was far less than optimal. She didn’t answer, even after a dozen rings. Probably out for a walk or visiting a friend. While most people would consider the weather a problem, us North Dakotans see days like this as ordinary, even exemplary. Perfect for taking the dog for a walk or shopping.

The phone rang suddenly while I still held it. I grabbed the receiver with my free hand more to protect myself from hearing it ring again than to talk to whoever had called.

“Professor Francis,” a familiar voice from last night said before I could say hello.

“Yes,” I said, not knowing what to call the man.

“We need an answer from you.”

“Now? I thought you were giving me a chance to think about it.”

“The situation’s changed a bit since last night. I need to know now.”

“What’s changed?”

“Let’s just say that we’re running into some interference we didn’t expect.”

“Have anything to do with the thugs that tried to beat me up yesterday?”

“You mentioned that before. I don’t know for sure. Regardless, I hope you’ve come to a conclusion and that it’s positive.”

“I really haven’t given it much thought. More time would help.”

“More time’s not possible.”

“Well, I told you then that I was not disposed to accept. And that still stands.”

“Is that final?”

“It is if you need the answer right now.”

“I do. Unfortunately, you’re answer just won’t do.”

“What do you mean, ‘won’t do’?”

“Just that, I’m afraid. You see, you know our plan now. How can we possibly trust that you’ll keep it a secret?”

“You have my word.”

“Not good enough. If somehow we pull it off without you and you see what’s going on, what’s to prevent you from going to the authorities and letting them know about the plan? And us?”

“I don’t even know who you are.”

“You know what we look like.”

“I do, but that’s hardly good enough. My guess is that you’re not in any database for previous criminal activity.”

“No. But we’re more conspicuous than that.”

“More conspicuous?”

“If you were to look in any business journal, Wall Street Journal for example, you’d immediately be able to recognize who we are.”

“But that’s not something I do.”

“You will now.”

I saw his point. I couldn’t resist.

“So you’re telling me I have to say yes.”

“Yes.”

“Or . . . ?”

“Or else what?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I can handle myself pretty well, you know.”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting, Professor Francis. You see, you have an Achilles Heel.”

I gave that some thought. Cassie. And I’d called her. No answer.

“Cassie?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Because that’s would be the way to attack my Achilles Heel, you bastard.”

“We did not kidnap her, Professor Francis. But now that you bring it up, it might be a good idea. Would you say ‘yes’ if we did?”

All I did was breathe heavily. Not that I could scare them that way, but that I couldn’t think of anything to say at that moment.

“We need you, Professor Francis.”

“There are thousands of ten-year olds who could do what you ask. Why me?”

“Because there aren’t thousands of ten-year olds who could do what I ask, and you know it. Invisibility is a key to our plan. I have it on good authority that you are the only one for this job. I need your answer now, and it needs to be yes. Do you understand that? And we have very little time remaining. Trust me. Things are on the move and if we wait any longer who knows what will happen. But I can assure you, it won’t be pretty.”