10
Overnight Delivery

Saturday 2040.11.03

At the Indian Consulate in Shanghai, the more-perfect-than-nature diamondoid data cube was slipped into a Faraday-lined pouch, which itself was then tucked into a second compact Faraday cage, no larger than a purse, for good measure. The resulting bundle was locked inside a tamper-resistant diplomatic case, protected from search and seizure by treaty and international protocol, which was then handcuffed to the wrist of a senior courier. The courier, accompanied by two members of the Consulate’s security force, was driven immediately south and west towards Shanghai’s smaller Hong Qiao Airport.

With the massive disruption caused by the cyber calamity – the cyber-attack according to Indian intelligence – they would take no chances with the closer but more seriously affected Pudong Airport.

The black Opal sedan – the vehicle of choice for diplomats and aristocrats throughout Asia– sped across the roads, minimal traffic providing no obstructions, diplomatic immunity rendering it oblivious to local traffic laws.

At the rear security gate to Hong Qiao, armed guards and imposing barriers brought them to a halt. The driver lowered his window, showed diplomatic papers to unsmiling soldiers with improbably large fully automatic weapons. Tripod mounted cameras and robotic defense systems tracked them. The car beeped, scrolled data across the driver’s display as the airport’s security AIs interrogated it, validating authority. Tense moments passed.

Then the unsmiling soldiers tersely handed the papers back. Lights turned green, and they drove directly out onto the tarmac, towards the fully fueled, ready-to-fly, diplomatic jet bearing the emblem of the Indian Ministry of External Affairs. The courier and the security men exited the sleek black Opal and boarded the Indian jet, the stairs retracting behind them.

Within minutes they were taxiing down the runway, a flight plan filed for New Delhi, a landing less than six hours away.

And a call was placed, informing certain people that a package was on its way.

Five thousand kilometers away, in the southern Indian city of Bangalore, on a campus that once belonged to the Defense Research and Development Organization of the Indian Ministry of Defense, a scientist named Varun Verma received the call.

“Now?” he asked into his handset. “You’re sure?”

Afternoon sunlight illuminated the boyish, clean-shaven face of a man in his 30s, on a tall lean frame, in a white shirt and grey trousers.

“I see.”