Digital Mindhunters (eBook)

Chapter 3

Riley stepped into a spacious windowless conference room which enveloped her in an atmosphere of power and authority. The high walls were covered with grand tapestries depicting moments from Russia’s storied military history, showcasing iconic battles and heroic figures from Peter the Great to the Patriotic War. Russian military insignia filled every available space.

The massive round table at the center of the room commanded attention. Microphones were strategically placed around its engraved mahogany surface, ready to capture every word. Small identical Russian flags stood proudly by each microphone, reminding of the unquestionable uniformity of thought and opinion. The heavy black chairs meticulously arranged around the table acted as the perfect complement to the gravity of the setting. Name placards in front of every chair indicated the seating arrangement, ensuring order and hierarchy.

About a thousand leather armchairs for the audience were positioned symmetrically in concentric circles around the round table. Fancy brochures were placed on each leather armchair. The glossy prints were titled Agenda and Participants. Riley located an empty armchair, cautiously approached it, picked up the brochure and sat down.

A six-foot tall soldier sitting to her left leaned towards her and struck a conversation.

“Good day, Miss,” he said and looked at her.

“Hello,” she said briskly and buried her face into the Agenda and Participants to avoid a chat. She knew well that she could not disclose who she was.

But the soldier persisted.

“You look like you’re here from the Ministry,” He observed while scanning her figure.

Riley pretended that she didn’t hear him, but he tried again.

“Which department are you with? Psyops? Or tech?”

“I need to focus on the talks, thanks” she finally replied in her perfect Russian and buried her face into the brochure again.

The soldier looked at her for a few moments hoping for a warmer response, but Riley didn’t give him one. He eventually gave up and started a conversation with the person sitting on his other side.

“Phew, this was close,” Riley whispered to herself while clutching the brochure and trying to steady her racing heart.

As soon as her neighbor was sufficiently distracted, Riley put the brochure in her laptop bag, cautiously lifted her eyes and looked around. As she took in the scene, she observed the military officers taking their designated seats around the central table with stern and focused expressions. Each wore their uniform with pride, decorated with medals that spoke of their achievements in battle and rank.

Riley felt the weight of the moment. This was no ordinary meeting; it was a gathering of the most powerful voices in Russia’s military.

Riley immediately recognized all of them. They were members of Russia’s top military leadership. All except for one, the Patriarch of Russia’s Orthodox church himself. Clad in his traditional black robes, he radiated a sense of calm and spiritual strength. He added a solemnity to the room and served as a reminder of the intertwined nature of faith and power in Russian culture.

As the guests were taking their seats, a few military officers passed by Riley and scanned her suspiciously. She felt panic but suppressed it and continued to pretend like she belonged. She smiled at them with her usual cheer and openness which gave them confidence that she was authorized to be there.

The only other woman in the room was sitting at the head of the table. She was dressed in a green military uniform. Her blond hair was pulled back in a bun as if to hide any traces of her innate female fragility. Despite her attempts to appear less feminine and more authoritative, her beauty and young age could hardly be concealed with a stern hairstyle. Yet, she seemed oddly unbothered in this ocean of military legends. Riley carefully observed the movements of that woman. A few of the men around the central table walked to her and struck up a short conversation as if to acknowledge her and pay their respects before they quickly returned to their designated seats. She mingled with the crowds slowly and elegantly, yet with the stern confidence typical of a Russian woman.

After a few more minutes, the lights in the room were dimmed and the last guests hurried to take their seats.

On top of the hour, the uniformed woman didn’t even have to raise her voice and announce that it was time for everyone to maintain silence. She simply adjusted her microphone at the helm of the massive table, lifted her eyebrows, and while not looking at anyone, subtly nodded her head. Riley was fascinated to see that no one in the entire room missed this little, almost imperceptible gesture. Even the most senior generals around the central table instantaneously stopped their conversations and focused their attention on her, ready to speak if the female asked them. Riley was fascinated to see how this woman tamed Russia’s military leadership with zero effort.

In this atmosphere of dead silence, with all eyes focused on her, the female moderator started:

“Colleagues, humanity is entering a new age of warfare, where people’s minds are the primary target of destruction and defeat. Our enemies know that. They threaten our government, our sovereignty, and our way of life. We must defend not only our country but our culture. They are waging an information war in the information space against us. They are using the digital space to confuse us and divide us, spreading falsehoods about our leaders and our policies on social and traditional media. They launch cyberattacks to break into our networks and threaten our lives. We must protect our motherland.”

Riley has heard this female voice before. She suddenly recognized the woman – Ksenia Shoigu. She was the daughter of Russian Defense Minister Sergey Shoigu. She was climbing the ranks of Russia’s Ministry of Emergencies, where her dad had started his government career. Like father, like daughter – this was a typical example of how Russian leaders try to turn their children into clones of themselves to perpetuate their legacy.

Riley listened to her speech intently. No wonder all top brass in the room stood still on her command. They were not answering to a young female in uniform but to their Defense Minister’s heir.

“Today,” Ksenia’s voice pierced through the silent room of military uniforms like a high-speed missile through space, “we will hear from several distinguished military scientists who will describe these threats. They will report how we can harness the power of artificial intelligence to spread our point of view and defeat our enemies. First, we will talk about how to increase the volume and reach of our message. Admiral Kotyunov will explain how we can use the artificial intelligence tool Topol-II to rapidly generate variations of articles with our view which can reach more readers faster. General, you have 30 minutes to give your talk.”

Ksenia paused and looked at the General who was sitting on the edge of his chair ready to speak.

“This is classic Russian strategy,” Riley thought to herself. “Russia accuses other countries of doing to Russia exactly what Russia is doing to them. All you must do to understand Russia’s malicious acts is listen to how Russia claims others are acting against it. It’s nuts but predictable.”

Admiral Kotyunov cleared his throat and nervously brought his parched lips closer to the microphone in front of him. He might have fearlessly led the Russian naval fleet against the Syrian opposition fighters during the Russian military intervention in Syria and during Russia’s war in Ukraine, but he couldn’t hide his fear of the lady at the helm. Riley understood him well, and so did everyone in the room.

“Honorable guests,” the Admiral commenced, “I am humbled to be here and present to you Topol-II. This technology can truly revolutionize our ability to fight back against aggressors. We named this technology Topol-II, after one of Russia’s most devastating intercontinental ballistic missiles Topol-M. That’s the pride of our nuclear arsenal. We added II at the end of the name. It stands for Искусственный интеллект.”

Riley rapidly translated the concept in her mind, “It stands for artificial intelligence in English.”

Deafening applause followed his last words, as if everyone understood the imperative to show absolute and unapologetic appreciation or else face the peril of prison.

The Admiral took a moment to soak in the sea of approval, and then continued, “We gave the tool such an honorable name because we are convinced that its impact against our enemies will be equally overwhelming to the backbone of our nuclear arsenal. Topol-II will put the effect of AI-tools on par with the effect of our nuclear weapons. Our most senior generals have already argued that. Now we are proudly operationalizing it.”

Everyone in the room applauded again.

When he finished his speech, Ksenia gave the floor to another military leader who delivered an...