Free Rogue Oracle by Alayna Williams Page A

it. And I’m applying it to social systems, not physical ones. And instead of the topological mixing assumed in physics, I’m assuming social contagion from the social sciences, using network theory.”
    “What about periodic orbits?” Tara asked. Veriss had spent the last hour talking down to them, and she was beginning to get irritated. “In classical chaos theory, materials move in dense periodical orbits. Do you have a parallel assumption for human systems?”
    “Actually, Ms. Sheridan—”
    “That’s Dr. Sheridan, Dr. Verris.” Veriss had insisted that everyone address him by title. Tara felt it was fair to request the same consideration.
    “Dr. Sheridan.” Veriss chewed on the inside of his lip. “I account for that by mapping social interactions using an evolution function. Would you like for me to show you?” He tugged a whiteboard closer to him and brandished a dry-erase marker.
    Harry kicked Tara under the table. His expression said: Don’t egg him on.
    “Not necessary. Just trying to keep you honest, Dr. Veriss,” Tara said primly.
    Veriss cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I also use elements of game theory. I treat the commission of crime as a strategic situation in which the choice to commit a crime is dependent on the behavior of others. For example, a criminal may choose to offend against a victim who, by his own choice, places himself in the offender’s sights.”
    “Yeah,” Harry said. “The better bait hypothesis.”
    Veriss capped his marker and cocked his head. “I’m not sure I’ve heard of that one.”
    “Criminals take the easiest mark. It’s a no-brainer.”
    “It’s much more complex than that, in the aggregate.” Veriss switched slides. “It’s really a simultaneous game in which decisions are made by both parties along a time continuum …”
    Harry rolled his eyes. “Professor,”—Harry refused to call Veriss “Doctor”—“this is all very interesting, but do you have a working model for the crimes we’re dealing with?”
    Veriss clicked to another slide. “This is what I have so far for a working model … subject to revision, of course. These data points show disappearances of all intelligence personnel in the U.S. for the last fifty years. The assumption is that these patterns would hold true for our current cases. Ranked in order of prevalence, the disappearances were accounted for by line-of-duty deaths, defection, personal mental breakdown, unrelated random crime events, accidents, and unknown causes.
    “I’ve added some other factors to the model, such as economic opportunity and absolute value of the intelligence held by the operative.”
    “You’re assuming that some intelligence is more marketable than the rest.” Tara crossed her arms over her chest. She glanced beside her and noticed that Harry was drawing pictures of devils on his notepad.
    “Yes. And I determine this by the addition of several factors in world upheaval. With the ending of the Cold War, for example, there’s just not that much market for mind control techniques anymore. There wasn’t much market for nuclear secrets until the current situations with Iran and North Korea. That’s caused the value of that intelligence to skyrocket.”
    “So, you’re suggesting defection?” Harry asked, continuing to color in the goatee of his cartoon devil. “That they’re all, I don’t know, having a beach party in Tehran?” Harry grinned and kicked Tara under the table.
    “That comes out at the top of my model. And there are no beaches in Tehran.”
    The door to the conference room cracked open, admitting a blinding wash of light. Tara and Harry’s heads swung toward the door like starved sunflowers kept in a darkroom.
    “Agent Li? Forensics would like you to take a look at some of their results.” The office manager’s voice was like a salvation from a benign god.
    Harry was already on his feet. “We’ll continue this later, Professor.”
    Tara snatched up her notebook