Daemon

composer who first discovered this principle.’
    Gragg was feeling slightly faint.
    ‘This is only the beginning of what you will learn. You do wish to learn, don’t you?’
    ‘Yes,’ he blurted.
    ‘Then we must determine your sincerity.’
    The whir of a precise electrical motor came to his ears, and Gragg glanced around the room. A small console had opened up in the wall next to the door. Gragg warily approached it, his feet squishing mud onto the concrete floor. He saw no other muddy prints. He must have been the first to make it this far. A smile stole across his face, and he approached the console with more courage.
    The console appeared to be an array of biometric devices – a hand-print reader, a camera lens with a rubber viewfinder, and a microphone. There was also a small LCD screen – like the type found on the backs of airline seats. It was not illuminated.
    The voice was right next to him. ‘Place either hand on the reader. Place your eye against the viewfinder, and adjust the microphone to a position approximately three inches to the right of your mouth.’
    Gragg did as instructed. It was not the most comfortable setup, but he didn’t think complaining was a good idea.
    ‘Very good. I can administer this test in one of seven different languages. Is English your primary language? Answer “yes” or “no.”’
    Gragg cleared his throat. ‘Yes.’
    ‘Good. I am going to ask a series of questions. You must answer truthfully – even if you think the truth is not the optimal response. This is not a test of your skills as a hacker. It is an effort to determine if you bear us ill will. A pattern of falsehoods will terminate the test. Early termination of the test will cause the air to be pumped from the room. This will create a partial vacuum that will cause the nitrogen to bubble out of your blood – resulting in an excruciating death. An MPEG video of your death will be placed on the Internet as a warningto others. Do you understand? Answer “yes” or “no.”’
    ‘Fuck!’ Gragg pulled his head up from the viewfinder and looked back at the featureless cinder-block wall.
    ‘Stop!’ The voice was so loud that it actually hurt. Then it returned to a comfortable volume. ‘Your earlier work was impressive. Your future lies ahead of you. Not behind you. Please return your eye to the viewfinder.’ There was a pause. ‘I will not ask you a second time.’
    Gragg was suddenly sweating. He felt his palm damp against the hand reader as he quickly returned his eye to the viewfinder. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck …’
    ‘Stop talking until you are asked a question.’
    Gragg bit his lip and couldn’t stop shaking. The phrase excruciating death kept running through his mind. This was not an idiot he was dealing with here – he was the idiot. And he was truly afraid.
    ‘Answer truthfully or die. Do you know who built this place? Yes or no?
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Speak the name slowly – first name, then last.’
    ‘Matthew … Sobol.’
    ‘Do you dislike Mr Sobol? Yes or no?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Do you admire Mr Sobol? Yes or no?’
    ‘Yes. Very much.’
    ‘Answer just “yes” or “no.”’
    The sweating returned. ‘Yes!’
Jesus H. fucking Christ
…
    ‘Would you be interested in playing an active role in Mr Sobol’s plans?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘If you were generously rewarded with power, knowledge, and wealth, would you be willing to break the law and expose yourself to personal risk as required to fulfill the plans of Mr Sobol?’
    He didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes.’
    ‘Do you believe in God?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Would you be willing to follow the instructions of a dead person?’
    Ahhhh … The feelings welling up inside of him surprised even Gragg. Here he was strapped to the polygraph from hell, and he still hated taking orders from anyone – and yes, he had a subtle prejudice against the dead. They had no skin in the game. Sobol was impressive, but Gragg wasn’t going to spend the rest of his fucking life serving a macro on steroids.
Goddamnit
.
    ‘Answer “yes” or “no.”’
    Fuck!
‘No.’ Gragg closed his eyes and waited to die.
    ‘Keep your eyes open.’
    He complied immediately.
    There was a pause. ‘To clarify. Your powerful intellect will be required to define the precise path to reach objectives set by Mr Sobol. There will be a considerable degree of freedom in the means. The outcome will be all that matters. Knowing this, would you still have a problem performing in this role?