Twenty-Nine Cozy Bears

07

The man watched with a detached interest as NATili moved with the speed of a enraged angel through the bitstreams and packets searching for her pray. That she could not adjust her parameters or act in more decisive ways was not a fault, it was by design, he explained to the President.

"It is designed to error?" the President asked.

"It is designed to be able to error. You can not know that you have gone too far until you do. A.I.s are created to discover what we can no longer see, because we don't go too far, in every pursuit. Implicit boundaries are not their thing. But what is happening here has more to do with lack of intuition and risk choice."

He leaned forward and typed into NATili's console,

:]> Nat, it is difficult figuring out where they are coming from?

:[> Yes

:]> Then prune first where they defiantly are not from. Remove from your search all routes they are defiantly not using. They are not from Mongolia. They are not from Siberia. They are not from Chile or the Congo, or South Africa.

The streaming lines of trace routes which flooded the consoles began to thin.

:[> Yes. I understand. It is working.

The leader looked to him, "That is an interesting suggestion."

He shrugged, and then remembered who he was addressing and sat up straighter. "Thank you sir, but it is ... how do you say... placebo? Yes, that is the word."

"How is that?"

"First she needs to learn that pruning her searches is possible, that it is an option and even a preferred option. Then she will learn how to prune. I could not think of a better suggestion to demonstrate the first need — so I used what I had, but it is not a logical approach,. If they are using the onion routers, and coming in from the dark net, which they most certainly are, they could be coming in from Siberia or from anywhere else, bouncing from one computer to another."

The President nodded, "Of course, of course. Still it is impressive, this insight you have."

"Thank you sir. I hope to be more useful in this area in the near future."

"Do you believe she will find them?"

"It is possible. She can perform more than forty-thousand simultaneous connections a minute. It is stunning to think about something like that hunting you in the dark."

There was a clear sparkle in the President's eyes as he turned his attention back to the consoles — ten of them, like glass tiles spread out on the screen, reporting NATili's activity.

After a minute the President leaned back, his eyes still alive with the possibilities and the reality of what he witnessed. "I have often debated if it was a blessing or an annoying restraint that we can not punish through the computer screen. Even if she discovers them, and her maelstroms chase them back to their home, what then? They turn off their computer and NATili goes away. It is a route to information, but nothing beyond what can be communicated. Vaporware, ultimately. There is no substance."

"I don't know. Taking four million out of a bank, or slashing the credit rating of a US Senator isn't exactly nothing. But I understand your meaning. Luca and I have been toying with an idea to close that gap a little more. But it is only a hovering step above locker room pranks. to be honest." the man said, and before his listener could question him, he added, "But then again, we don't wipe our butts with hand guns. To focus on the limitation often buries winning strategies in plain sight. This intruder could be anyone, but whoever they are, and however they managed to get this far through military grade barriers, they are a proven resource. And a valuable one."

The President nodded. "True, but tell me about the locker room joke you and Luca have been working on."

Luca's eyes widened but he recovered, "Have you heard of infrasound? Low bass notes at the 22mgz or less range. Or infra-strobe the fast flicker rate of light?"

"Yes, I have," the President mused, "the light flickering is at 1Hz to 20Hz strobes using bright searing light. The combination is very uncomfortable. Done right the victim is shot through with terror and might shit himself as well."

Luca frowned and sat back, his thunder stolen.

The President laughed, "It is called being old, Luca. Some day much sooner than you believe you will have all your precious secrets told to you by someone else." He laughed and Luca grinned helplessly. "But yes, when I was in the KGB these ideas came up several times with possibilities hung on them, but they soon hung as shrouds. Intriguing ingredients, but ultimately, they were military grade pranks."

"And hardware dependent," the man added, as he studied changes in the presentation rates and stream shapes. "She may have found something. Still to early to tell, but she's on the right track and far faster than I could track them."

"Yes, I am impressed. Good that you chose to bring this out even thought it is not quite ready for prime-time. It will prove to be an asset for Russia. Good work."

"Thank you sir."

"But let us discuss your assignment. Your trip to Iran, which you leave tomorrow for. I estimate you will not be back for at least a month. Perhaps longer."

Luca sat up with his full attention on the President. The man looked to Alek and then back to their leader, "What target is going to require such persistence?" he asked.

"You are going to hack their nuclear power plant, and destroy all of the data for the project. A full wipe of everything."