Wired - Douglas E. Richards [77]
Desh’s eyes narrowed. “Smith knew you had slowed the aging process by half. He also said your ultimate plan on the road to immortality was to design nanobots to patrol the bloodstream, and then find a way to transfer consciousness.”
“That’s right. This general plan was recorded on my computer. It was my initial thinking before I realized what a disaster even the first step would be. Exactly as Smith described.”
“Interesting,” said Desh. “So do you think he’s Moriarty?”
Kira considered. “Maybe, but my intuition tells me no. I think he’s just Moriarty’s lieutenant.”
“Go on,” said Desh, pushing his barely touched dessert to the side, having concluded that he couldn’t split his focus between Kira Miller and the entrance and eat a dripping sundae at the same time.
“I knew as soon as Moriarty realized I’d discovered the fountain of youth he wouldn’t rest until he had it,” continued Kira. “Which meant I was in big trouble. I put the flash drive in a stainless steel pill bottle and buried it where I thought no one would ever find it. I memorized its GPS coordinates. And then I enhanced myself. I was panicked, and my thinking was scattershot, so even though I had just promised myself never to do it again, I felt I had no other choice.”
Desh nodded sympathetically. Under the circumstances he couldn’t blame her.
“Once I had transformed myself,” she continued, “it became clear what I needed to do. The instructions for reconstructing my therapies were dozens and dozens of typed pages long. To be absolutely certain that the secret was safe, even if I was under duress, I imprisoned my memories of the formulas and the GPS coordinates to the buried flash drive: even the memory of the general area in which it was buried. I partitioned these memories behind an impenetrable mental wall.” She sighed. “It wasn’t easy.”
“I don’t doubt it,” said Desh.
“Even enhanced, finding and isolated specific memory traces in my own mind was an extraordinarily difficult challenge.”
“But you were able to do it?”
“Yes. I structured these memories so I could only access them if I made a powerful, conscious decision that I wanted to. And like a Chinese finger trap, I set it up so the more I fought to get at the memories while under duress, the stronger the barrier would become.” She paused. “As it turned out, I didn’t do this a moment too soon.”
Desh leaned forward intently.
“A few hours later Larry Lusetti broke into my condo and took me hostage,” said Kira. “He wanted the secret to extended life and told me he wasn’t leaving without it. He used truth drugs on me. They were very effective. I told him about the discovery and why I hadn’t shared it with the world. But when he asked about age retardation, I told him I didn’t remember the recipe.”
“Which was now absolutely true,” said Desh.
Kira nodded. She took a final bite of her sundae, her spoon clinking loudly against the sides of the tall parfait glass as she retrieved it, and pushed it aside. “Unfortunately, I was unable to hold anything else back from him. Under the drugs I told him about the flash drive. I told him exactly how I had partitioned the GPS coordinates in my memory so I couldn’t retrieve them under duress. He dutifully reported this to Moriarty.”
“And did Moriarty believe you?”
“I assume so. If not, I think he would have had Lusetti use torture in addition to truth drugs, which he never did.” Kira paused as if bracing herself to continue, dreading the prospect.
Desh could sense something was very wrong. “What happened then?” he prompted gently.
“I woke up the next morning, still a hostage.” She looked off into the distance and a tear slowly formed in the corner of one eye. “And Lusetti told me they had my brother, Alan.”
Desh’s eyes widened as the connections became obvious.
“Lusetti told me his boss was in Alan’s home in Cincinnati,” she whispered in horror, “and would burn my brother alive unless I gave