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“Black Inc. will buy it from you,” Black said instantly. He saw, like Pierce, the massive utility of a program like that, in a future that would be full of deepfakes.
“No,” Riley said, peering into the screen, navigating her way to somewhere. “I told you before, I’ll gladly give it to you and to ASI. And I’ll train your people if you like. If I ever get out from under this massive weight.” She stopped navigating and lifted her hands. “I am also going to show you images taken from the NSO database, which is absolutely illegal. I shouldn’t have them and I am subject to instant termination of service if discovered, and on top of that, I have broken a dozen federal laws.” She gave a harsh laugh that morphed into a sob, stifled by a hand over her mouth. She coughed, took a moment, began again. “Though frankly, that is nothing compared to the trouble I am currently in.”
Riley looked so miserable Pierce reached out to touch her hand. He couldn’t help himself, and didn’t give a shit that Black saw. It was unprofessional, but he didn’t work for Black, and could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
But Black didn’t look disapproving. If anything, he looked a little sad, which was weird on that tough face.
“Sorry,” Riley said, shaking her head and sitting up straighter.
“Told you there was no need to apologize.” Black smiled. Black, smiling. It was really rare. It looked like it hurt.
“Anyway, when I saw the video, which was making the rounds of people working in national security, I immediately recognized it as one of ours, from one of our satellites. Identifying it as NSO satellite footage is complex and highly technical. I can run through it if you like, but can you take my word for it? Speed things up?”
“Absolutely,” Pierce said. Felicity, Hope and Emma had always maintained that Riley was perhaps the best of them. That was more than good enough for him.
“Yes,” Black said.
Riley blew out a breath. “Good. So, the first time I saw the video there were some anomalies, like the six fingered hands I showed you. I saw two more iterations crop up in the space of a couple of hours and each iteration was better than the last. Like I said, that is how deep fakes are created – they are GANned. Generative Adversarial Network. The system goes back and forth, eliminating anomalies, making the image better and better. My program does the opposite—it strips the image of the improvements and takes it back to the original.”
She worked the keyboard, then sat back. “Look.”
Pierce and Black leaned forward. It was exactly as Riley had said. Her program stripped the image, over and over, until the Chinese soldiers disappeared and Sommers Group soldiers appeared.
“Here is where it gets interesting.” Riley was manipulating the video. “So you know AI can invent people who look very plausible? You’ve all seen those articles with photos of ordinary-looking people, who are all invented by AI?”
Yeah. Pierce had seen them and thought it was creepy. He nodded and Black did too.
“Well, here’s the thing. AI can make those faces up because it references literally millions of photos. But there aren’tthatmany photos of Chinese faces available, so they were stumped. But as I told you earlier, you know who has a huge database of Chinese faces? We do! The NSO. And it just so happens that for the past year I have been assigned the China desk, which is what it would be if we were CIA. Actually, what I do is study shots and videos taken over mainland China and over equatorial Africa where the Chinese are very active, and flag things of interest. Here, let me show you.”
Her fingers blurred over the keyboard. The monitor split into two. On the right-hand side was a freeze frame of the Chinese soldiers marauding. One by one, their faces were highlighted and brought up as a close up. On the other side of the screen, were the same faces, only normal. Not screaming, not attacking. One at parade rest, one getting into an off-road vehicle, one practicing at a gun range. All normal scenes of soldiers’ lives.
“What you see are the Chinese faces their AI were able to use. And since these images are top secret, the inescapable conclusion I came to is that the whole GAN, everything, was done in-house, at the NSO. I can hack and try to find out who there did the deepfake video—if it was someone in-house, he or she would know how to cover their tracks. Whoever it is did it for a lot of money, obviously,” she added bitterly.
“Lot of people will do a lot of bad stuff for money, and Adrian Sommers is rolling in it,” Black said. “He can buy just about anyone.”
Pierce knew he was right. Black himself would never whitewash a video showing a massacre, and Pierce knew that he and his teammates back at ASI would never be tempted by any amount of money. Not a million dollars, not a billion dollars. He knew that because he’d been offered an obscene amount of money for covering up a murder. Murders. After he and Raul had watched their new commanding officer shoot up civilians in country. For sport.
When Pierce and Raul reported him, they knew it would be hard, but not how hard. Captain Fuckhead’s uncle was a really powerful politician. Chairman of the Armed Forces Committee. Uncle Fuckhead had come down on them like a ton of bricks, threatening a court martial, dishonorable discharge, loss of pension, the works. Not before trying the easy way. Offering a cool five million each to withdraw the report.
He and Raul hadn’t needed to consult with each other. They were both nauseated at the idea of being part of Captain Fuckhead getting away with murder.
But a lot of people had urged them to take the money and duck.
A lot of people would have been willing to take the money.
“Well, no one can buyme.”Riley looked up. “So someone at NSO, which is charged with safeguarding the country’s security from the skies, sold out. We might go towarover a lie to cover someone’s ass.”
Riley had white nostrils, lines bracketing her mouth. This idea affected her deeply, that a security agency harbored people who’d sell out their country.
It affected him, too. And Black. Though it wasn’t a new idea to them, as it was to her.
“Here.” Riley handed him and Black a piece of paper each, on which she had written a string of letters and numbers.
“What’s this?” Pierce glanced at it. Long, random, impossible to memorize, which was probably the point.
“I just now set up a site in the darknet and I just gave you both the password. Without that password, no one will ever find it, so guard that password with everything you’ve got. Memorize it, if you can.”
Pierce had a good memory, but he couldn’t could trust his memory that much. If Riley said to memorize it, it meant that she had. But to her, and to her friends back at ASI, numbers were like friends.
