Hard Reboot Episode 01

Prologue

The elevator doors slid open and Dr. David Jones stepped out into the desolate hallway of the 2nd-level sub-basement. He ignored the flickering light down the hallway. He strode across the linoleum flooring to the double-doors of the central conference room, stepped inside and shut them. The beige rectangular room was ringed with tall gun-metal lockers on one wall, spare chairs stacked on another, and a third contained a fully-stocked bar. The center of the room held a large hexagonal table with four chairs set around it. He set a 3-ring binder down at the head of the table and sat waiting. His smirk grew into a wide smile as the doors opened and three men walked in carrying various papers and clipboards.

"You can't mean that?" Dr. Zachary Smith said, looking at one of the others. "Radiation leaks could compromise more than just the intended targets. The devastation would be insurmountable!"

The three noticed Dr. Jones sitting and each nodded in greeting.

"Tell him, Davy. Radiation isn't viable." Each took a seat at the table placing their documents in front of them.

"Au contraire, Zachary. Mr. Brown has a point. Radiation would serve our purposes well." Dr. Jones turned to Matthew Brown, "The problem, however, is the collateral damage is incalculable. Finding a substance that would effectively irradiate the intended population spectrum without inundating the remainder would seem to be - difficult."

Dr. Jones went to the line of lockers, unlocked one, removing a small metal box, and placed it beside the binder at his seat. "For example," he said, placing both hands on the table, "cesium-137 could be effective, if it can be implemented in some soluble form in all locations, such as a simple dish of water. It is readily integrated into the system. However, the results are easily remedied and inconsistent."

Colonel Philip Greene shifted in his chair, his slick-black hair shifting the highlights from the fluorescent bulbs hanging from the ceiling. His furrowed brow belied his growing smile. "I like the radiation angle." He stroked his bare chin, "We could do some major damage with easy distribution. The only obstacle could be distribution without contaminating our own people." He shrugged, "Not that I'm opposed to it."

Dr. Jones frowned, "Colonel, that seems hardly fitting. Besides," his smile returned as he glanced at each of the others. "I have the solution."

Dr. Jones lifted the lid to the box. The others jumped to their feet, scrambling from the table. "Relax, gentlemen." He pulled one of the vials from the foam packing material and held it up. "It is completely inactive."

Dr. Smith tilted his head, looking the liquid filled vial over. Small metallic glints reflected as the clear liquid spun within the vial. "What is it?" he sneered.

"This," Dr. Jones lifted the vial a fraction, "is the answer that I like to call The Plan." He returned the vial to the box, closing it. "It contains nanobots designed with three tasks."

He placed his hands in the pockets of his suit coat and strode around the table. He stopped at the bar, and opened the mini fridge. Removed a bottle, and four glasses from the adjoining cabinet.

"First," he said, pointing a single digit towards the ceiling, "the nanobots, upon activation, are to seek all proteins in the body, and alter them."

"Alter them?" asked Mr. Brown, jumping to his feet. "What are you talking about?"

"In a moment, Mr. Brown." Dr. Jones cleared his throat and resumed adding a second finger to the first. "Second, it acquires the raw material necessary to replicate itself from the host."

He paused a moment, glancing at each turn. "And last, it has a termination point of 30 minutes to prevent spreading of the virus beyond the target population."

Dr. Smith stepped forward. "Astounding, Sir. What are your projections? Has it been tested?"

Dr. Jones poured champagne into each of the four glasses, and set one in front of each of them.

"We should effectively reduce the population of the planet by some 7 billion people, with a margin of error plus or minus 5%. We will have a more accurate estimate once we have completed the trials."

Each member of the group stood awestruck, staring at one another for several moments. Dr. Smith's smile grew with each second that passed basking in their astonished admiration.

"Gentlemen." They turned to look back at him. "As of this moment, we are no longer the Secularists Social Society. We can keep our monikers of misunderstood scientists, but the rest is history. I now dub us," he cleared his throat and raised his glass of champagne, "the Ubiquitous Reboot League."