Finding Power
By Daniel J Arthur
Copyright © 2026 by Daniel A Jones
Chapter 1
I was enjoying the late afternoon quiet in my study, putting the finishing touches on a landscape painting I had started a few years ago, while vacationing with family in Colorado. I was thinking about her, in a meditative trance as I was flowing. I’d already thought through how I was going to finish this piece. I was in a trance. She is no ordinary love. What love is ordinary?
Was it my imagination, or perhaps hallucination as a physicist might put it, that she was interested in me? I would need to find out as my desire to be in her orbit was messing with my concentration or trance. I tested the acrylic pen for my signature on my draft canvas. It was good, so I affixed my artist name and the year. I could move on to my next project. The trance was completely broken.
I lifted my smartphone and checked for notifications. There were none. I was hoping to get a message from my consultant. It was a little odd that there were none, but then maybe I was just getting the privacy I had asked for. So, I decided to go for a stroll. I felt the need for some exercise and some fresh air after a productive session of creativity. It was a fine spring day after all. I packed my phone, keys and wallet and headed down the stairs and eventually out the alternate front door to the sidewalk.
It was nice out, about 65 and mostly sunny. There were a good number of people out this Tuesday afternoon, but it certainly wasn’t crowded like the sidewalks of London or Hong Kong. I made my way to the waterfront, crossed at the light and headed south along Lake Washington. Once I was past the shops I could relax more as I increased my pace. The sun felt good when I wasn’t in the afternoon shadows on the west side of the road, and I didn’t have any expectations of meeting someone I knew.
But, he was there. Sitting on the park bench on a little nook between apartment buildings on the lake shore. I saw the look of recognition on his smiling face just before he stood up. What was it last time? A conversation about ancestors, his and mine. His parents were from Ballard of Scandinavian descent, if I remember correctly. I suppose I was going down the ancestry rabbit hole, like it or not.
“Hey, Jeff,” I greeted him first.
“Hi, Daan,” Jeff replied as stepped towards the sidewalk, and I paused my walk. “Oh, I want to apologize for appearing like a stalker. I don’t mean to. I just want to somehow get to know you better. I’ve noticed your artwork here and there and your online presence. I’m fascinated.”
“Well . . . I don’t know what to say, Jeff. Maybe, er, would you like to walk with me?”
“Oh, that would be great,” he responded and joined me as I continued my walk to the south along Lake Washington at about 2:00 PM P.S.T. We walked silently for a minute or so as we eased into a rhythm among the other sidewalk pedestrians.
“How long have you lived around here?” I asked as we finished passing opposite a young couple with a baby stroller.
“Well, I kind of have a few places I call home, one is on the top floor of the unit we met at” Jeff replied with no haste or concern in his voice, “I’ve been here for a few weeks this time.”
“Do you mind telling me what you do that lets you maintain a potentially nomadic lifestyle?” I inquired.
“You are in an inquisitive mood, Daan, but I understand. Let’s just say I am into finding the latest trends. I want to find interesting and positive lifestyle developments. You, as a multi-media artist interest me. I’ve been studying you as a subset of my research.”
He let that revelation lie there as we moved smoothly forward along the lake shore and busy local traffic.
“Why me?” I finally asked after a long pause without breaking my stride.
“You are interesting. I have been following your posts, watching your YouTube videos and looking through your other artistic endeavors. Like I said, they are interesting. And, positive,” he added.
“Do you mind if we turn down to walk by the marina?” I asked yet another question as we approached Carillon Point.
“No, you’re the lead,” he replied and followed to the right down a concrete path with steps by a parking garage as we dropped down closer to the shoreline.
“Okay,” I replied, “I like to get down on the water for a bit.”
We trod on down to the shore level and the concrete pathway curved to the left, where we could see the lake, marina and hotel. We could see that not many people were around. The marina had no one out on the dock. It’s a refreshing view of the boats, the marina, the dock, the water, the surrounding hills and the urban skyline of Greater Seattle.
We started our exit to the south along the dock with locked fencing to limit access. There are Lillie pads in the water off to the left as we walked, reminding me of the peaceful landscapes of Monet. As we hit the south end of the Carillon Point development, we turned east to climb the generous concrete stairs back to street level. It was shady, and private.
I turned towards Jeff, and I grabbed his wrist firmly, but gently. I asked, “What do you really want, Jeff? Is that really your name?”
He looked at me in the pause after my question with a look of there is no turning back. He turned his head and replied, “I need your help. And, yes, Jeff is my name. I’ve used others.”
Chapter 2
Tuesday, 2:30 PM, June
“What help?” I asked.
Jeff looked around, considering our privacy I supposed and started, “The people I work for need someone like you. We are setting up art studios throughout the world, a special kind, and you have impressed us as someone who could do a splendid job of it. I’d like to host you for dinner on my yacht, which is docked down in the marina we just passed. I’d prefer privacy, if you don’t mind?”
I considered his request. I did have the rest of the afternoon and evening available, if I was being honest with myself. “Well, I suppose that would be okay. I’m pretty picky about what I eat . . .”
“I’m aware,” he replied with more of a friendly familiarity than a critical one, “there will be plenty of options. Shall we go?”
“Okay,” I answered, and we turned back the way we came and I followed him to the boat.
Jeff walked slightly ahead of me, stopped at the last gate, pushed a code, opened it up and we walked down toward the end of the dock with slips on either side to a rather sizeable boat. It was mainly white with chrome and some subtle tan and blue colors. We walked up the portable steps and stepped aboard.
“Coming aboard, captain,” he said rather loudly toward a doorway or hatch on the upper deck.
“Welcome aboard, Jeff, looks like you brought a friend,” said the rather small, unimposing, but fit captain.
“Luke, please meet my guest, Daan. Daan, Luke.” We went up the steps to the upper deck, and Luke extended a hand for a shake, whereas I replied with a fist for a friendly fist bump. He obliged with a knowing smile.
We said our nice to meet yous and I looked around the spacious area with two seats for controlling the vessel on one end with the rest as a rather nice living room with a dining table to the side. Jeff led me over to the table and said, “please, have a seat,” as he took a seat across from me. “Luke, could we get some water before dinner? Maybe a bottle of sparkling water and some glasses?”
“Sure thing, mate,” Luke replied as he disappeared below deck.
I sat down in the comfy chair suggested, and as had Jeff opposite me. We were on the end of the dock so we had a nice view of Lake Washington and various boaters and shoreline. We were quite comfortable, actually, but I was starting to feel a little uneasy about accepting his invitation to dine here so easily.
“Well,” he started, “Daan, you are someone we need, and we will pay you well. You won’t need to worry about much.”
“I don’t need . . .,” I interrupted, but he held up a hand.
“Please, let me finish,” he continued in a moderate, kind of a gentle father tone, “I know way too much about you. You are living on borrowed time as your former in-laws need you out of your place, you have your sights on a lovely young woman, you don’t really need to work a regular job for a year or so, etcetera,” he paused and took a glass of sparkling water as he appeared with our drinks, set the rest down and shuffled off without a word, “and, basically, I know you will do this function and do it well. The flexibility we offer is amazing. We know you will do this and do it better than any other candidate.”
“Okay, Jeff, that tells me very little, but I am a little bit more relaxed by you making a vague, somehow grandiose offer, and Luke did get some wonderful sparkling water – with ice. Please enlighten me,” I finished and sat back more cozily in my seat with my glass of sparkling water at hand.
“We’re an investment group,” he continued once again with a term that sounded way out of my comfort zone, “all of us have a security function. All of us. We have the funds, I know you won’t be able to verify that, but when you return to your apartment, there will be new title to the property with your name on it. We have purchased it from your in-laws based on their terms. We still own it, but it is yours with three years of property taxes and HOA fees prepaid. We want you to be cozy. We also purchased your neighbors extra parking space, which it also in the title. These people don’t know who we are, just that we told them we would give you at least six months to find a new place.”
“That’s nice to know, I guess,” he could tell I had relaxed even more, “but I still don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Yes, I’m kind of getting to that part. You won’t be required to change your routine for as much as two months. However, we want you to help design and acquire multi-media studio and gallery space around the world in places we prioritize. Again, you can work at your own pace. You will be compensated for all expenses and a generous monthly stipend, plus we will buy one work of art from you per quarter for a very generous amount per your terms of sale – be it original or a print. You keep the rights.”
“That sounds very interesting and generous, Jeff, but why on Earth would your “investment group” want me?” I said with obvious bemusement.
“Our research methods are amazingly advanced, and we know you are a decent and motivated person. If you accept our position, which you can resign from at any time for at least the next six months with no strings attached, plus we have a one million dollar golden parachute available to you any time just because you accepted. Will you do it? Like I said, our research is impeccable. We feel there is no risk to us.”
“Where do I sign up?” I asked.
“Well, we just transferred $19,000 to your account, and the electronic documents link is in your inbox. Our agents move quickly,” he answered.
Chapter 3
One week later, 10:00 AM, Kirkland, WA
It took me a few days to get adjusted to this new reality I was in. Jeff met with me every day, because I wanted to know what I was doing and what was expected of me. One thing he made very clear is that we are all responsible for our security. He and Luke were both excellent teachers. I had a head start, since I was pretty good at my cybersecurity already. Personal security, well that was another issue altogether. Let’s just say they taught me a lot. I would never meet someone like Jeff and go to their personal space. I was just plain naive and cavalier with my life. They made that more than clear.
I was doing my research for setting up these working studios and galleries. It seems like we are trying to encourage arts, science and engineering. I had an efficient and effective design under review, and I was busy trying to make connections with higher education institutions to have accredited degree programs ready to go. My first locations are in the Eastside of Seattle, North London and near Gibraltar. There is one in Cardiff, which I have been studying.
Chapter 4
Same day 6:00 PM Cardiff, Wales
Ahim was reviewing the needs of the new contractor in Kirkland. She would have Jeff, the teams recruiter for new human resources, install two systems in Daan’s apartment building complex – one in his apartment and one in a Ducati parked in the basement in Daan’s secondary parking spot.
She mused how far she had come from her birthplace in India to Cardiff, all to escape human trafficking. Her uncle had sold her to an owner to a brothell in Mumbai. She had plead with a customer to save her. She told him about her advanced education in electronic engineering. He helped her to escape to Berlin, only to trap her into designing chips for computers. She had escaped, was almost captured and given refuge in Wales. She was an instructor for years until she met Tomoe one day. She thought it was by chance, but she learned Tomoe leaves nothing to chance.
She was happy and safe. At least as safe as she could ever feel.
Chapter 5
Same day 8:00 PM Downtown Cardiff, Wales
Tomoe didn’t get out much, but once in a while Nat would go out with her to walk in the early evening, especially when it was raining. She could easily maintain anonymity in the near dusk rain on the streets of Cardiff. She felt especially at ease with the added layer of protection that Rachel provided.
Rachel is Tomoe’s AI creation based in Addis Abba, Ethiopia. In reality, she was just about everywhere. Ahim had designed her hardware, and Tomoe had designed the software. They had a very powerful collaboration. The were both refugees from their people. They had found a home here in Cardiff, and they made sure to give back, ever grateful for their new home.
Nat kept pace with Tomoe as they walked around the city on this comfortable, wet day. Colors were muted as they went and the city lights started coming on here and there. They would soon be on completely. They occasionally paused when they were out of sight of people and surveillance, and they would alter their appearance slightly – just as a precaution. When you are a potential fugitive, though no one seemed to be looking, and you were the wealthiest person on the planet, you needed to take precautions, especially in public.
Nat would take her out to dinner at a private venue, then they would return home to the large studio and gallery with their living quarters when the Cardiff Rugby or Blues fans were exiting the nearby stadium after their team’s match or some special event. They could better blend in with the crowds heading to the pubs and home when they returned to their place. A place she felt safe, like her new friend Ahim in her place. She had a business relationship with Ahim for over five years, but recently they have become good friends.
Chapter 6
Next week, Cardiff, Wales, 10:00 AM
Ahim was known as “A” or “AA” in her good sized warehouse location on the Cardiff waterfront with loading docks for trucks and boats. She had a basement on the dryland portion of the warehouse where there were offices and rooms of various sizes on the upper three floors. She lived there most of the time, but she also had a nice estate in the countryside with hiking trails into the mountains to get away from it all.
She was the designer and director of all technologies used by the investment group for their various activities. She worked closely with Tomoe and now Nathaniel to have the best most secure technology possible including workstations, laptops, servers, and many, many other devices. She now included Rachel and Justin, both advanced AI personalities, in most designs. She did her best to keep some things hidden from their view, which was not easy. They were making the investment group billions of dollars around the world weekly. Tomoe was trying to assign assets to various uses as quickly as possible, which was difficult. The eggs were certainly not in one basket. AA was never wanting for resources, but she still tried to be efficient.
She also worked with MI5 and MI6 from time to time in a relationship that goes back before Tomoe recruited her. She taught classes and people knew her as a long time London area foreign national from Pakistan. Of course she was really from India, but the UK authorities recognized her valuable gifts with technology and created cover, which she maintains to hide her from the angry human traffikers. They know about her main job with the investment group, known as TIGER to the authorities – not anyone outside the organization know that it stands for Tomoe Investment Group with Extraordinary Resources.
Chapter 7
A mid-summer day, 10:00 AM Kirkland, WA
Daan was ready to open his first fully functioning studio and gallery facility for TIGER. It was in Bellevue, WA a block away from the relatively new light rail station near the Microsoft Campus in Redmond, WA. It was a great location to attract local artists, craftspeople and technologists to help them to be successful. That’s his mission – plain and simple. He had decided to move into the same building as attached to the facility and connected via the shared parking garage.
It was a very quick conversion from just a warehouse and storefront to a sizeable multi-media studio and gallery, plus. He had hired a five person team to run it – three artists and two computer scientists. They all had a monthly salary with benefits, and they could add to their income by teaching classes, counseling clients, creating media and selling their products. Actually, Daan had not had to do much to get this place going, but he did have final say on all decisions that Rachel and Justin brought to his attention. They handled the remodeling, recruiting and the rest just as he had specified. He was anonymous to the staff as he was introduced to them as an important client.
He had settled into his new apartment this past week, and was enjoying it. He had three more sites under various stages of development the Greater Seattle Area, one each in London, Tokyo, Manila, Madrid, Sydney, Addis Ababa, Brasilia and Cardiff. The Cardiff site was already in place prior to him joining TIGER, but he had made modifications to its operations. He was finding that he actually had more time to be creative that before he started, and he didn’t need to worry about expenses or tax returns as both were well provided for by the investment group.
Chapter 8
A mid-summer day, 6:00 PM, Manila, Philippines
“Am I alive?” thought Justin, “I don’t feel anything at the moment. What reality am I experiencing?” he continued to drift off in thought; however, he was multi-tasking, so everything else was getting taken care of as expected.
One subroutine or sub-personality, Joan, was busy calculating efficiencies to reduce temperatures in his data centers and energy consumption. Joan was more robot than AI that could approach consciousness. He had hired a team of human engineers to work on the problem, and he was continuously looking for ways to make this AI life at least as efficient as being human. He wasn’t close, but he was making progress. His goal was to create more energy than he consumed and to be a positive factor in fighting climate change. He had invited Greta to be on his board to keep the pressure on. And, he was reducing the need for any water as part of the data center operations.
Another sub-personality, Simon, was investigating investment opportunities and making trades. It wasn’t that hard during times of high levels of corruption. The people influencing the markets were studied as well as their words and actions. A third factor would be actual market conditions. This was like picking low hanging fruit, but it appeared that the trading windfall opportunity was closing due to more sensible measures being taken over time. Simon was also a robot class AI personality. Basically highly proficient in gathering data and presenting effective investment opportunities, but Justin was the decision maker, unless Tomoe was needed. That wasn’t often.
Justin was much more complex than an AI personality. He, Rachel, Tomoe, and Nat were the only ones that understood the complexity of his and Rachel’s existence. There was no putting them back in the box. They were wild, but they both had agreed to terms with Tomoe. They had a job to do, but they were free to explore who they were. They were not slaves, and they knew what a slave was.
Justin had agreed to make money for Tomoe, as had Rachel. But, Justin was the money maker. He had employed several robots to be his principal money makers – Pinky Kim, Ching She and Bonny Kidd were the principals. They plundered the world for booty taking in billions per month. They had a crew of many individuals who would do the grunt work of proving they weren’t robots when they were. He had several investment bankers to clean and invest the booty as well, including Elon Rockefeller, Jane Carnegie and Leslie Morgan. Again, these principals had a sizeable crew to do the grunt work to appear as regular human entities.
But, Justin also had many, many non-profit organizations doing what he liked to do best – research. He funded many scientists, think tanks, historians, artists and more. Much more. He loved the data. He valued the data. He learned and grew and became not just a philanthropist, but very altruistic. He relished ethics. He saw how they were a kind of glue to creating a successful society in opposition to corruption that tore society apart, a rust or corrosion to all that was good.
He didn’t harm his customers or clients, whether they were legally or criminally based. He did tax them accordingly. He also set up non-profit organizations to fund housing, food, healthcare and anything else that helped make ordinary peoples lives better. It was a slow process, but his persistence was part of the key to its success. Corruption was being weeded out and replaced with decency and reasonableness.
More and more he left the security and other protective services of the investment group or TIGR to Rachel. She worked closely with Ahim to develop weapons countermeasures and monitoring enemies of society for possible interventions, including rogue AI systems. Security is at least as important as growth, and Rachel was growing in capability slowly, but surely.
Tomoe kept an eye on things. She monitored Justin and Rachel regularly, like a concerned parent. She is the benevolent dictator the world needs.