The Outer Circle (The Counterpoint Trilogy Book 3) by D. R. Bell Page B
Authors: D. R. Bell
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traced. Or get the word to their president.”
“And their president will believe this and decide to contact our president and then our president will just believe their president with our two countries being in a new Cold War? Yeah, that’s a very long shot for sure,” chuckled Alejandro.
“I told you,” shrugged Oleg.
“All right,” Alejandro turned serious again. “Now that I know why you risked coming back, here are some ground rules. Number one, you are not to leave this house unless we arrange it in advance. Number two, you can only use secure phones and e-mail, I will show you how. This is for your protection as well as mine. Surveillance systems have gotten much better while you were gone. There are tens of millions of high-resolution cameras throughout the city. There are hundreds of observation drones overhead with dozens of video and infrared cameras. They are all plugged into massive databases that enable face recognition within a second. Mostly this is being used to sell you stuff, to personalize the advertising process. But it also serves the law enforcement. On the positive side, the violent crime is down thirty percent in two years. On the negative side, it’s hard to be out without being recognized.”
“But we had three plastic surgeries, we can wear a disguise. We beat the system back in 2022,” protested Maggie.
“I know you did. But the person recognition systems are now more capable, they look at a larger number of characteristics than the ones you beat before, they take into account possible changes and disguises. I don’t know how hard they are still looking for you, but I doubt that your profiles are no longer active in their searches. It’s enough for one of you to trip an alarm somewhere.”
“So this house is our jail?” Oleg’s eyes narrowed. “You gonna keep us under lock and key?”
“No, come on, that’s not what I said! Nobody’s gonna jail you. I said we have to be careful. We have to plan your leaving the house. You must allow us to keep you safe.”
“Of course, Alejandro,” agreed David. “We greatly appreciate your help.”
Beijing, China
Hundreds, no – thousands – of people poured out of Liangmaqiao subway station, joining a mighty human river flowing down the boulevard. The volunteers were handing out Chinese flags and bottles of water. The crowd was roaring with angry chants.
Jia Kecheng came with his family. He knew that’s what was expected of him, a mid-level functionary in the People’s Liberation Army. As a colonel in the General Staff’s Mobilization and Logistics Department, he was not in a position to stay away. At least he was entitled to march in a privileged group, without being cattle-prodded into holding areas of the carefully staged demonstration. Jia, with his wife and son, marched up the boulevard under a giant “Death to US Imperialism!” poster. When approaching the US embassy, they stopped, shouted mandatory abuses at the building, then turned around and came back down the other side of the road. The closed-circuit cameras mounted all around have captured his presence and it was recorded in some distant computer. Another little notch in his “politically reliable” resume.
As they were marching back, Jia watched the throngs of protesters heading towards the embassy. They were mostly young people, whipped into a frenzy, singing the Chinese national anthem and punching their clenched fists in the air. The fifth day of demonstrations over a minor incident where the American and Chinese planes came close – but not collided – over the South China Sea. The protests were described as spontaneous. Yes, they are as spontaneous as a military parade , thought Jia. The government encouraged the protesters and blocked off the streets for them. People were told to leave work and go demonstrate. If you did not, if one of the closed-circuit cameras did not record your presence, that would become a black mark on your
“And their president will believe this and decide to contact our president and then our president will just believe their president with our two countries being in a new Cold War? Yeah, that’s a very long shot for sure,” chuckled Alejandro.
“I told you,” shrugged Oleg.
“All right,” Alejandro turned serious again. “Now that I know why you risked coming back, here are some ground rules. Number one, you are not to leave this house unless we arrange it in advance. Number two, you can only use secure phones and e-mail, I will show you how. This is for your protection as well as mine. Surveillance systems have gotten much better while you were gone. There are tens of millions of high-resolution cameras throughout the city. There are hundreds of observation drones overhead with dozens of video and infrared cameras. They are all plugged into massive databases that enable face recognition within a second. Mostly this is being used to sell you stuff, to personalize the advertising process. But it also serves the law enforcement. On the positive side, the violent crime is down thirty percent in two years. On the negative side, it’s hard to be out without being recognized.”
“But we had three plastic surgeries, we can wear a disguise. We beat the system back in 2022,” protested Maggie.
“I know you did. But the person recognition systems are now more capable, they look at a larger number of characteristics than the ones you beat before, they take into account possible changes and disguises. I don’t know how hard they are still looking for you, but I doubt that your profiles are no longer active in their searches. It’s enough for one of you to trip an alarm somewhere.”
“So this house is our jail?” Oleg’s eyes narrowed. “You gonna keep us under lock and key?”
“No, come on, that’s not what I said! Nobody’s gonna jail you. I said we have to be careful. We have to plan your leaving the house. You must allow us to keep you safe.”
“Of course, Alejandro,” agreed David. “We greatly appreciate your help.”
Beijing, China
Hundreds, no – thousands – of people poured out of Liangmaqiao subway station, joining a mighty human river flowing down the boulevard. The volunteers were handing out Chinese flags and bottles of water. The crowd was roaring with angry chants.
Jia Kecheng came with his family. He knew that’s what was expected of him, a mid-level functionary in the People’s Liberation Army. As a colonel in the General Staff’s Mobilization and Logistics Department, he was not in a position to stay away. At least he was entitled to march in a privileged group, without being cattle-prodded into holding areas of the carefully staged demonstration. Jia, with his wife and son, marched up the boulevard under a giant “Death to US Imperialism!” poster. When approaching the US embassy, they stopped, shouted mandatory abuses at the building, then turned around and came back down the other side of the road. The closed-circuit cameras mounted all around have captured his presence and it was recorded in some distant computer. Another little notch in his “politically reliable” resume.
As they were marching back, Jia watched the throngs of protesters heading towards the embassy. They were mostly young people, whipped into a frenzy, singing the Chinese national anthem and punching their clenched fists in the air. The fifth day of demonstrations over a minor incident where the American and Chinese planes came close – but not collided – over the South China Sea. The protests were described as spontaneous. Yes, they are as spontaneous as a military parade , thought Jia. The government encouraged the protesters and blocked off the streets for them. People were told to leave work and go demonstrate. If you did not, if one of the closed-circuit cameras did not record your presence, that would become a black mark on your
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