Goliath

Rocky sits back. “Goliath was designed big because she’s a prototype, Mr. Secretary, the first of what was to be a new generation of unmanned submersibles. The ship was designed to be operated by Sorceress, a supercomputer called a CAEN system, a Chemically Assembled Electronic Nanocomputer. Sorceress was designed by Covah and Dr. Elizabeth Goode, to be built in a joint venture between American Microsystems Corporation and DARPA’s Distributed Robotics Program, funded entirely by the DoD. The science is called nanotechnology, first proposed by Nobel physicist Richard Feynman back in the 1950s. The name is derived from the word ‘nanometer,’ a unit of measure equaling a billionth of a meter. In fact, a nanocomputer’s fundamental components measure only dozens of atoms. The smaller size of the computer circuitry allows for a tremendous increase in memory capacity, while breakthroughs in biomolecular-silicon interfacing dramatically improve computing speed.”

“How dramatic?”

“Potentially billions of times faster than a silicon chip.”

“Billions?”

“Yes, sir. Imagine packing the power of today’s supercomputers into packages the size of pinheads. The technology is housed in Sorceress. Essentially, we’re talking about a miracle of engineering—an artificial computerized brain constructed from both silicon and carbon-based molecular components. Information is harnessed using bioengineered bacteria, which coat themselves with a thin layer of silicon.”

Rocky pauses, wondering if she’s getting too technical.

“Go on,” the president urges, “we’re with you. You say this bacterium is coated with silicon?”

“Yes, sir. The bacteria represent what had been the missing link between traditional silicon hardware and the new bioware. With Simon Covah’s help, Dr. Goode successfully developed genetically altered clones of an original bacterium, each species capable of performing distinct computational tasks. These programmable critters, as she called them, evolved independently, allowing them to search a solution space for answers, performing evolutionary algorithms at unprecedented speeds. What’s more, they interface perfectly with silicon components. Silicon chips incorporate a binary code of zeros and ones. DNA code is digital, utilizing four symbols: A, T, C, and G, which correspond to the four nucleic acids which make up DNA.”

Rocky stops, realizing from their looks that she has gone too “high-tech” on her superiors.

“Commander, in a nutshell, what can Sorceress do?”

“The question is what can’t she do. The system’s DNA strands enable its biochemical brain to process and store far more information—approximately ten to the tenth power greater—than even the most massive electronic supercomputer made.”

“Incredible …”

“Sorceress is a prototype, sir. The system was to represent the birth of a new generation of computers, designed to reproduce, evolve, and improve itself every moment it was running.”

“Evolve?” The president looks concerned. “Evolve in what way?”

“Dr. Goode designed Sorceress to be self-repairing, its components engineered to self-improve in accuracy and efficiency with each new generation of bacteria processed. The bacteria themselves were engineered as facultative anaerobes, which thrive in a variety of environments and can efficiently metabolize nutrients, which are constantly generated by Sorceress’s internal recycling system.”

More confused looks.

“In essence, sir, Sorceress was programmed with a simple prime directive: to learn.”

“Not sure I like the sound of that,” the president says. “Sir, without Dr. Goode involved, I seriously doubt Simon Covah could have completed the computer’s engineering.”

Nunziata does not look convinced. “Where is Dr. Goode? How do we know she isn’t involved in any of this?”

The Bear glances down at the Secretary of State. “Dr. Goode is apolitical and averse to any sort of violence. I can assure you, she had nothing to do with Covah’s espionage.”

“She designed Sorceress, General,” the president retorts. “She should be at this briefing.”

“Mr. President, Elizabeth Goode vehemently opposed placing Sorceress aboard the Goliath, or any weapons platform, for that matter.”

Secretary Nunziata stands, circling the conference table like a predator. “Director Pertic says this Covah character hijacked the sub with a crew of seven. How many men does it actually take to operate Goliath?”

“Seven would be sufficient,” Rocky answers.

“Potentially none,” Gunnar states.

“None?” The secretary looks shocked. “A sub this large—without a crew? Is that true, Commander?”

Rocky shoots Gunnar a hard look. “No, sir. Not without Sorceress.”

“Assume the worst, Commander. What if this computer brain is on board the Goliath?”