Page 33 of Mastermind

“Yes. People talked about how the weather made the situation even worse. There were a lot of comparisons to the New York 1966 smog event and London’s killer fog of 1952,” she says.

“Killer fog?” asks Lilith.

“Yeah. Prior to air-quality standards in the US and Europe, the smog problem got critically bad when weather kept pollutants trapped in one area. Our void coincided with a similar weather event.”

“And yours,” I tell Lilith.

“We get those kinds of fogs more frequently now,” Lilith replies.

I check my data. “There’re a lot of places with similar climates where this could be pulled off. Seoul and Singapore getting hit on the same night may be a matter of convenience.”

“They were waiting for the weather?” asks Lilith.

“I assume so. For maximum impact.”

“We’re getting closer,” says Jessica as she looks at the monitor.

The Void takes up the entire screen now. The only indicator that the monitor’s not switched off is the highway and the streetlights visible in front of us. They stretch ahead for several miles, then simply end.

“Can we get out and look?” I ask.

Lilith calls to the driver, and the vehicle comes to a stop. Jessica opens up the door, and we step out onto the deserted highway to view the Void with unaided eyes. My first reaction is pure awe.

The mental model that comes to mind is that of a massive glacier made of black ice that has swept across the city. At the outer edges, the lights of emergency vehicles flash as they try to evacuate people from inside the cloud.

Occasionally I catch the glimmering purple flashes that reports have attributed to EMPs being triggered like aftershocks.

“Who were the first into Manhattan?” I ask.

“Firefighters,” says Jessica. “They were the ones with the right gear.”

“Do you want to get any closer?” asks Lilith.

“Yes,” I respond without hesitation.

“Okay, any particular place?”

I read an address from a browser window on Jessica’s iPad. “Can we go there?”

“I think so. What’s there?”

“That’s where the lights are on. Or at least they’re on right now,” I reply.

“How do you know that?” asks Jessica.

“I pinged a list of Seoul internet addresses. This one answered back. They’re still connected to the internet via a fiber-optic cable that wasn’t affected.”

“And you think that’s intentional?”

“Maybe. The fact that not all the EMPs went off at once was either accidental, a way to interfere with first responders—like yourself—or intended for some other purpose,” I say as we climb back into the vehicle.

Lilith tells the driver where to go, and we start moving forward again into the maelstrom.

As I speak, all eyes are on the monitor.

“Think of a squid,” I explain. “It uses its ink as a means to escape predators, right? Well, it turns out that ink isn’t only a defensive weapon like we thought. We’ve observed Japanese pygmy squid using ink to confuse and distract shrimp. A feeding strategy. Which makes sense. So whenever we find a useful tool with only one application, I assume that we haven’t been watching the animal that uses it closely enough.”

Ray listens attentively while Dr. Gap-Kyum nods.