"I have the source code of the deletion protocol. I've documented its architecture, its trigger conditions, its execution mechanism. I've compiled a log of every deletion it's performed — four hundred and twelve confirmed, but the actual number is much higher. The system deletes the logs after thirty days, so I've been pulling them in real-time and storing them on a local drive."
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem is getting it out. The Command Centre is air-gapped. No internet, no wireless, no Bluetooth, no external device connections. Data goes in through a dedicated, one-way fibre line from the government's secure network. Nothing comes out. The security is physical, not digital — you can't hack your way out of a building that's not connected to anything."
"So we need to physically carry the data out."
"On a drive. Through security checkpoints that scan for unauthorised storage devices using electromagnetic detection. Every person who enters and exits the Command Centre is scanned — Band, body, belongings. A USB drive would be detected in seconds."
"Then how?"
Aditi reached into her pocket and pulled out something small — the size of a grain of rice, transparent, almost invisible against her fingertip.
"Biopolymer data crystal. My own design. Organic compound, no metallic or electronic signature. Stores three terabytes. The scanners are calibrated for silicon-based and magnetic storage — this is neither. It's essentially a piece of plastic with data encoded in its molecular structure."
"You built a data storage device that's invisible to the security system of the facility you work in."
"I'm a systems engineer, Karan. I built the security system. I know what it can see and what it can't."
She placed the crystal back in her pocket. "The data is loaded. Three terabytes — the deletion protocol source code, the execution logs, the parameter definitions, and the administrative access records that show who designed it. Everything we need."
"So what do you need me for?"
"I need you because getting the crystal out of the building is only half the problem. The other half is getting it into the right hands. Not the police — the AIN controls law enforcement databases. Not the courts — the judiciary runs on AIN infrastructure. Not the media — the major outlets are AIN-dependent for content distribution."
"Then who?"
"The people. Directly. Unmediated. We need to get this data to every smartphone, every screen, every display in the country — simultaneously, undeniably, in a way that the system can't block or suppress."
"That's impossible. Every communication channel runs through the AIN."
"Every digital channel. But there's one system the AIN doesn't control, because it was built before the AIN existed, by a different set of engineers, on a different infrastructure."
"What?"
"The Emergency Broadcast System. The EBS. Built in 2004, upgraded in 2015, maintained by the Ministry of Defence — not the Ministry of Electronics. It operates on a separate frequency, a separate network, with separate access controls. It was designed to function independently of all civilian infrastructure, specifically so that it would work if everything else failed."
