Start at the Prologue and First Chapter here
Dimitri Federovich Ustinov told himself he had no reason to feel tense. He was, after all, a respected civil servant. Still, he was sitting in a waiting room at the central offices of the Federal Security Service, waiting to see a senior member of the FSS, and he did not know why.
Precisely at the top of the hour, a door leading into the interior of the Service opened, and he was summoned by an aide who ushered him down long hallways and through many turns before being deposited in an empty meeting room. And then he waited. For a long time.
When at last the door opened, not one but two men entered. One was short and portly, with dome rising above his round face that was so shiny as to suggest a liberal application of floor polish. He wore a more cheerful expression than Ustinov would have expected to find within the bowels of the FSS. The second entrant was tall, with close-cropped hair graying at the temples and a serious expression in between. Ustinov wondered which one was Aleksandr Isayevich Shukov.
“Ah, Dimitri Fedorovich,” the short man said. “I am Sergei Ovechkin. A pleasure to meet you. I am so sorry to keep you waiting, and for so long. Please forgive me.” He gripped Dimitri by both shoulders as he spoke, as if he was a long-lost brother. “And this is Aleksandr Shukov,” Shukov smiled slightly and shook Ustinov’s hand. “Now sit,” Ovechkin said, “Sit – and we shall talk.”
Ustinov did as he was told, sitting stiffly across the conference room table from Ovechkin. After they were seated, Shukov took a seat several places away at the head of the table, behind a pad of paper which had been in place when Ustinov entered the room. “So!” Ovechkin said, “Now you will tell me about the Russ.”
“Of course I would be happy to do so,” Ustinov said. “Are there specific aspects that are of interest to you? Current transactional volumes? It’s current technical status, perhaps?”
“Everything,” Ovechkin said, slapping one hand lightly on the table. “Assume I know nothing and wish to know everything.”
“Alright them,” Ustinov said uncertainly. “Would it be appropriate for me to begin by describing what a blockchain is? Yes? Well -” he embarked on that topic, but it was awkward trying to speak to both men at the same time. Ovechkin was smiling and engaged, while Ustinov’s face remained expressionless, so Ustinov unconsciously began speaking only and directly to Ovechkin.
Ustinov waited to be prompted after he exhausted his shallow technical knowledge about the blockchain. But Ovechkin only smiled and nodded, so Ustinov launched into a description of how international transactions in Russ were conducted. He glanced at Shukov and noticed that he had not taken a single note yet. Was he even listening?
Halfway through that topic, Ustinov was relieved when Ovechkin once more slapped a hand on the table. But his relieve lasted only for an instant.
“This is all very interesting, of course,” Ovechkin said. “But you have not yet told me about the leader of the Russ project, Oleg Lupanov.”
Ah. So that was why he was here. Ustinov instantly began to perspire.
“No Sir, I have not.”
“And why is that?”
What could he say? If the FSS was interested in Lupanov, it likely knew volumes more about him than Ustinov did. Was it possible this was not true?
“Uh, he works remotely, you see, which…”
“Exactly,” Ovechkin said. “I am sure you will not be surprised to learn we are interested in learning whether the western BankCoin blockchain has vulnerabilities. As an expert in such technologies, we believe Oleg Borisovich would be able to provide useful insights to us in this regard. We wish to speak with him and you must arrange this.”
Ustinov’s mind was racing. The less he committed to here in this room the better. “I would certainly be pleased to convey that request on your behalf,” he said.
“Excellent!” Ovechkin said, standing up. “I’m sure we can rely on you.” Ustinov was not, but gratefully rose as well.
As an aide escorted Ustinov down one corridor after another on his way to the open air, he had a hard time thinking past the reality that he knew nothing more about Oleg Borisovich Lupanov beyond his email address. Thank goodness he at least had that.
* * *
The weather had improved considerably from the last time Ustinov stood waiting outside the anonymous lobby of the building at 52 Savushkina Street. This time, Filitov ushered him immediately into the world headquarters of RussCoin.
“It is good to see you, my friend.” Filitov said. “How are things in Moscow? With your family?”
“All good. And with you?”
Filitov laughed. “I sit alone here in this little room for a few hours a day. I have been divorced for years. My daughter has not yet given me grandchildren. What is there to tell?”
Ustinov decided not to waste further time on pleasantries; better to emphasize the seriousness of the topic that had brought him there. “Ah – that’s the question, isn’t it?” he said. “Last time, you told be almost nothing about Lupanov. I asked for a full report on RussCoin then, including full details regarding all Russ programmers and staff. I will say your report was most satisfactory in almost all respects. But still there were no details about Lupanov, nor any address for the gentleman. This gap must now be filled.”
“Your concern is understandable,” Filitov said. Then he held up one finger. “But first, a toast to your promotion!” He trundled over to the small table in the corner and returned with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. “I am delighted,” he said, uncorking the bottle and half filling the glasses, “that your able leadership of the Russ project has been recognized. To your health!”
Ustinov did not enjoy the Russian custom of drinking over business, especially in the morning. But he could hardly refuse such a toast. “Nostrovia!” he said, lifting his glass, and drank the minimum amount possible to avoid rudeness. Filitov avoided any possibility of rudeness by draining his own drink. He refilled both their glasses.
“So!” Filitov said. “Now we talk business. May I know the reason for this sudden urgency to know more about Oleg Borisovich?”
“Unfortunately, no – I am not at liberty to say. And my need is not to know more about him, but to speak with him.”
“As I believe I indicated in the past,” Filitov said, “this may be difficult. I have never personally spoken with Lupanov, nor do I have a number to call if I wished to. I believe that I gave you his email address, however. I am afraid that I can do no more.”
“But you could introduce me,” Filitov said, taking a bigger drink from his glass this time.
“I could do this, yes.” Filitov said.
“You could emphasize, also, how important it is that he accommodate any requests I should make.”
Filitov laughed. “I could emphasize, also, how important it is too brush his teeth. I expect he would give equal attention to both requests.”
Ustinov frowned. He could think of no leverage to use over Filitov, and Filitov knew it. The bearded Russian also knew he was Ustinov’s sole link to the developers upon whose good graces and performance his career rested.
“I’m sure you will do your best,” was the best Ustinov could think to say. “And I will be grateful to you for doing so.”
Filitov smiled and raised his glass. “In that case, let us drink to your further success. Come – and you must do better this time!”
Ustinov drained his glass and departed, head mildly spinning, hoping for the best. It was all he could do.
* * *
Author’s Notes for This Week:
I’m hard at work on my second draft now, with all of the subplots shuffled back into the main text, although I’ll be adjusting and readjusting where each bit goes for a while yet, trying to get the best flow and pacing. The length is a bit over 83,000 words, so this may end up as the shortest book to date; usually my adds roughly offset my drops of text as the revisions process continues.
If you haven’t been keeping up with the news, you might be interested in this story. While the Iranian government has been cracking down on cryptocurrencies generally, when it comes to getting around US sanctions, though…I’m sure you just can’t guess. Perhaps the Ayatollah and Hassan Rouhani have been reading along here chapter by chapter as well.
One question that’s been nagging at me is whether the story needs more action. What do you think? See Rob’s comment and my reply below.
And finally, if you didn’t notice my blog entry earlier this week, you can now purchase The Alexandria Project at Amazon or Audible.
Next Week: Most likely we’ll be joining A Bee and B Bee back inside Crypto’s head.
“The length is a bit over 83,000 words, so this may end up as the shortest book to date; ”
You could add a hike into Mexico to hack a forign bank? Looks like USA, but is “alien”.
Thanks, Rob. Your comment suggests another challenge I’ve been struggling with in Book 5 – how to get more action in? In each of the previous books, there’s been a jaunt in Frank’s camper to provide action, color and tension, but I decided there’s only so many times I can keep using the same approach. So no road trip this time around.
In The Turing Test, I had something of the same issue – how do you get action into a story where the antagonist is a computer program? I solved that by sprinkling multiple attacks into the plot line. That, I think, worked reasonably well, because the attacks could be varied and graphic – attacks on mines, ships, and so on. The plot line in The Doodlebug War provided good fodder for the same approach, yielding bomb attacks on Manhattan and plague attacks across the US and Europe.
This time around, though, I’m dealing with a technology that really doesn’t lend itself well to death and destruction – yet, anyway. A blockchain is basically a repository of information, and it’s a bit of a stretch to concoct a situation where tampering with or destroying one would have a very dramatic impact, except in the case of the financial system itself. But I expect I could come up with something if I need to.
So here’s a question I could use some help with. It’s hard to tell, I’m sure, when you’re reading this draft a chapter at a time, but do you think I need to come up with a way to get more action and suspense into it for it to make a good read? I’m inclined to think I do, but I’d love to have some additional opinions.
Blockchains are information. But they only become interesting where they touch people. An a blockchain is basically also a repository of trust and wealth. Trust and wealth lare at the heart of human drama. If rumours arise that there is a backdoor into the Bank/Ruscoin, I could think of several parties with a ruthless interest of getting hold of the key.
You already went somewhat in the direction of more action:
1) The spying on Frank. Think haunted houses and comparable horror
2) A character is recruited by the Russians. Let her become a double agent that must be protected.
3) Frank becomes suspect, say, his enemies transfer cryptocurrency to him, and he has to avoid arrest. Or even better, they try to drag his daughter and husband into it.
4) Crypto tries to put the FSS onto the trail of someone else, say, make them believe Frank is Lupanov?
Just some off the cuff remarks.
Excellent ideas, Rob. You’ll see parts of some of them in the chapters ahead, where the action picks up, but I can see how to pick up on other parts of what you suggest at an earlier point in the book, which is where I need more tension/action. I like #3 in particular, as I could work that in much earlier.