by Scott McEwen
“Are you familiar with the term ‘IoT’?” Darsie asked. “The Internet of Things? Let me show you.” Darsie moved the chessboard to the table between them and scattered pieces around it. “In the early days of the internet, you had computers and people who created a network that would intercommunicate.” Darsie pointed from pawn to pawn. “Creating a network for the open flow of information. With this model, the computers did the thinking and the network served to transfer the information. Today, the model has shifted.” Darsie pulled out a bottle of Fiji and put it next to the chessboard. “The thinking occurs in the cloud, where the processing and storage power is far greater than on any one local device. In this model, the cloud, or those who control it, become master and the device is slave.”
“Okay, I get it. I can tell my computer to do something from the cloud.” Wyatt pointed to an iPad. “But how can you weaponize that tablet? It’s not like it can come over there and attack me.”
“Well, it could blow up and harm you. Or if you were a pilot using that iPad to navigate, it could harm you or others. But the iPad is just one device. Today we put computers or processors inside everything, from light bulbs, to door locks, to robots on a factory floor. We call these devices ‘smart.’ They’re controlled, quite often, through the cloud. Should anyone have access to that thing called the internet, they could, in theory, tap into the cloud and make these devices do their bidding. This, in my opinion, is the most dangerous weapon created by man. And I’m not alone in thinking this.”
Wyatt squinted, trying to follow. “The weapon is the cloud?”
“The cloud is the system, Wyatt. And the warheads are the ‘smart’ devices on the network.”
“I’m still struggling to see the horror movie you’re describing,” Wyatt said. “So what—a light bulb? You’re acting like there are little Terminators running around chasing us.”
“Not yet … but that, of course, will come. If we make it that long. A light bulb can be infinitely dangerous. Just depends where it is. If it’s in an oil refinery, it could create a spark that’s lethal. Look at the Austin attack: a smart truck, programmed to be magnitudes safer than the typical truck, kills fifty-three people when its smarts become psychotic, when the device is taken over. There are currently nine billion smart devices in the world. They’re in everything—our TVs, headphones, power plants. We’ve put these weapons in our homes without even knowing it.”
“My head is hurting,” Wyatt said. “Bring this back to Julie Chen.”
Darsie maneuvered the pieces on his chessboard. “At Red Trident, we have a project to weaponize the internet called Infinite Warhead. To make Infinite Warhead work, we built a platform that can hack into almost any system and hijack the smart devices on it.”
Wyatt knew the answer to the next question, but he wanted to hear Darsie say it. “And Hi Kyto works on it?”
“Hi Kyto is it. I made her the chief designer in building the model.”
“She’s fourteen,” Wyatt said. “Should she have that responsibility?”
“She’s a genius. And coming from you—a proud Valorian—I’m surprised that age is an issue.” Darsie smiled.
“I’m not sure I’m a proud anything,” Wyatt said, feeling his anger build. Men like Darsie also played games with the world. They were not too dissimilar from the Encytes who wreaked havoc on it. He tried to refocus. “So could Hi Kyto have stolen the software?”
“No, thank god. No information can get in or out of our lab without us knowing.” Darsie reconsidered, obviously thinking about how he would do it. “It’s nearly impossible, though in her case … she wouldn’t need to steal it. She’s smart enough to copy it and build her own version.”
“Jesus Christ,” said Wyatt. “You taught her how to weaponize all the devices in the world if she wanted to.”
“I didn’t teach her. I just gave her the tools and asked the right questions. She taught herself. But in practice, you’re right.” Darsie nodded. “She could. And now you see why I need to know. If she’s Encyte, it’s not just my exposure—the very world is in danger if that girl wants to do it harm. And I’ll be damned if that is going to happen on Red Trident’s watch.”
Wyatt wanted to reach out and choke this man, whose ego and ambition had put the world at risk. Like Victor Frankenstein, he had created a monster, a fourteen-year-old child prodigy, who slipped out from his lab and sowed the wind.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He looked over at Wyatt. “I played god and now we are in danger.”
“Yes.”
“What you will learn, if you stay in this business long enough, is that we’re always playing god. It’s how society advances. Messes are made. Genies get out of the bottle. It’s up to people like you to put them back in. To clean up the spills.”
CHAPTER 14
Darsie looked at the black digital window, millions of bits and bytes flowing past, and studied his own face in the smudgeless glass. “If Hi Kyto is Encyte, I need to be the first to know, and I need you to help me.”
“I’ll talk to my father. This sounds like the perfect mission for Valor.”
“No!” Darsie snapped. “You can’t ask your father.”
“Why?”
“For starters, Valor will be inoperable this summer.”
“What do you mean?”
“Trouble is coming and Valor’s going to find its hands are tied.”
“So what do you want me to do? I’m on the island. I’ll be there all summer.”
“Blow the horn. You need to leave the program.”
“What? Hell no. I’m not a quitter. And if I do that, I’ll never be able to come back,” he said, rising to his feet. “We have other missions besides Encyte—”
“Look, I know it’s not an easy decision, but you need to think about this. If Hi Kyto is the killer, I’ll dissolve Red Trident immediately. I’ll go to jail—I don’t care. That’s not the issue. I need to solve this my particular way, and that brings me to the offer I have for you…”
Wyatt looked over, arms crossed but listening.
“Mr. Yellow and the Golden One Hundred are in the middle of a search, but I don’t think I need to tell you that they’re stuck.”
“Then you know about Hallsy?”
“Of course I do. And the girl he killed.”
Wyatt’s jaw again stiffened and his face flushed. “How do you—”
“Dolly Allen was her name, if I remember right…”
Wyatt glared.
“I’m sorry,” Darsie added flatly. “You loved her, huh? Look, there’s very little I don’t know.”
“Then you know where he is?”
“Right now, no. But that’s only because Sergeant Eric Hallsy is not a priority.”
Wyatt took a step toward Darsie, fists balled, still feeling the switchblade tucked in his belt.
Instantly, the security was on him, guns drawn. Reflected in the glass screen of the phony windows, Wyatt saw the dots of laser sights on his forehead, neck, and chest.
“Ease down, all of you,” Darsie said. “Wyatt, I understand you don’t want to leave Valor, but the world needs you.”
“It does—at Valor.”
“Sounds like something Eldon would say. You’re better than that.”
“I’ve only completed Group-C. I need more training to truly be of value.”
“Not so,” Darsie said. “Why do you think I made it so difficult for you to find me? Security, of course, but it was also a test. Now, if you will help me, either clear or close Hi Kyto as Encyte, I promise I’ll help you find Hallsy.”
Wyatt sat back in the chair.
“I don’t expect you to tell me now. You can’t just go up to Hi Kyto. She’s too closed off. I need to find the perfect intersection for you two to meet. It must be organic.”
“But if I blow the horn, they’ll wipe my memory. I won’t even remember this meeting. I mean, how will I even remember you or our plans?”
“Good question,” Darsie said.
“First, this is Year Two for you. With time, it’s harder for the camp to erase it all. Besides, I know the chemical formula they use to erase memory.”
“Then you know how to counter it…”
“Exactly. There’s a chemical compound I can give you. It’ll lessen the effect of the memory-erasing agent. I’ll need something to jog your memory to reverse the loss completely.”
Wyatt thought a minute. “There’s a photograph stitched in my backpack. But,” he quickly corrected himself, “I didn’t say I was helping you.”
“If you leave, I’ll meet you and apply the antidote, and your memory will return. Most of it, anyway. There’s a reason I remember Valor,” Darsie said. “When I blew the horn, I did the same thing to myself.”
“Feels a lot like you just want to cover your ass.” Wyatt watched the 4K screen, contemplating. Darsie was right. All efforts to find Hallsy had fallen flat. He had no faith in Mr. Yellow, or even the Golden One Hundred. If he wanted to avenge Dolly’s death, the torture his father had been through, and the attack on Valor, he would need Darsie’s help. “How will I give you my answer?”
“You won’t. Words mean nothing to me. Either you do it, or you don’t. I’ll see if you leave. Either way, there’s one last caveat. You cannot tell anyone about this mission. And if you do, I will know, and I won’t give you the memory-reversing agent. I’ll let you drop out, and it will be like this meeting—and Valor itself, for that matter—never existed. You’ll just go back to being a regular old teenager, frustrated by the nagging sense that you could have done and been more. But you’ll never be able to put your finger on why. Do you understand this?”
Wyatt nodded.
“Good boy.” Darsie glanced at one of his assistants, and the train began to slow.
CHAPTER 15
Wyatt looked at his compass and then at the sky. The train had effectively taken Wyatt back in the direction of Valor. The ride home would be shorter. He would race along the railbed to a dirt road, which, at midnight, would be empty. The train was gone now, disappearing into the forest, and he did not know where it would end up.
The night was wet and cold and thick with fog. No longer negotiating a narrow hiking path, Wyatt’s mind could wander slightly, but the mist was no easier to navigate than his own mind—the quandary of morality and ethics, duty and responsibility. Would he ring out? When would he do it—and how? And Jalen? Had he recruited the kid only to abandon him before the summer started? At least Cody would have his dad if Wyatt left him behind.
The main issue, he supposed, was the finality of it. If he sounded the horn, one thing was certain: he could never, ever return. Camp had been his crucible. In its fires, he’d gone from a delinquent, angry teenager to something that looked a lot like a man.
Wyatt slowed, tabling his thoughts, and he turned toward Logan’s Point. He ditched the bike and pushed the Jet Ski back into the icy Lake Tecmaga. He waded to his ankles and pulled out his phone: a text from Avi. He followed the instructions, speeding across the black water until he found the Sea Goat.
“Did you see him?” Avi asked before Wyatt had even stepped aboard.
“No,” Wyatt blurted out. “I missed the rendezvous.”
The boat floated in dark waters, the rain now having stopped. Mary Alice drifted away from the boat’s side, fired up the Jet Ski, and disappeared across the water.
Mary Alice now gone, Avi pressed, “You were away for several hours … and missed the rendezvous?”
“Yeah. With the weather … there were too many obstacles. Wild-goose chase. I’m sorry.”
Avi stared at Wyatt in the pilothouse, then shifted his eyes to Mackenzie, who was also staring at Wyatt. Both of them clearly not believing the story.
“Suppose we’ll never know what he wanted,” Avi said, holding his hand out. “Your gun, please. I’ll see that Cass gets it back.”
Wyatt unclipped the Sig Sauer and slapped it into Avi’s waiting palm, then handed the switchblade over to Mackenzie.
“Let’s go,” Mackenzie said and he bumped the throttle into gear.
* * *
The first campers began arriving on the fourth day. They came in waves, and it was evident from their looks which group they fell into. Group-A and Group-B were clearly the elite. Polished, confident, they moved with a crisp definitiveness of those in the know. At the opposite end of the spectrum were the Mounties and Rovers. Generally wide-eyed and innocent, these were the youngest and freshest on campus.
Most potential campers were selected for the camp based on a blend of potential, skills, and a penchant for mischief. Although the straitlaced were by far the minority, there were other kids, like Cody, whose parents were Valor graduates or fallen warriors. Not surprisingly, this category of camper actually had the highest rate of completion. But by and large, Camp Valor recruited delinquents and incorrigibles. Children whom society had deemed “bad seeds.” In some ways, Valor was an Island of Misfit Toys.
Still, the younger campers, for the most part, had less of a criminal bent. Maybe they’d broken into a neighbor’s house, maybe they’d stolen a car and gone joyriding, maybe they’d hacked into a teacher’s computer to get answers for a test. These displays of poor behavior from eleven- and twelve-year-olds could be simply misguided potential. However, the older campers, those trying out for Group-C, generally were a more evolved class of criminal youth. Many of their crimes were violent (breaking into a neighbor’s house to steal a gun), or dangerous (crashing a car in a police chase—which was true for Wyatt), or pathological (hacking into multiple systems—schools, banks, and government records). While there were no set rules for recruitment, the deeds or misdeeds that attracted the attention of Valor recruiters generally involved noticeable creativity or courage, out-of-the-box thinking. Intelligence, propensity for risk-taking, aggressiveness—these qualities were silver that could be mined from the dross of troubled youth. But perhaps most important of all was the motivation. Camp Valor was a chance to get out of jail free, to start again, and failure meant going back to the foster care system, juvie, or worse.
But having potential was just the beginning. In order to truly become a part of Valor, campers had to complete a rigorous series of trials and trainings. And as is true for most elite military units, there’s always the opportunity (and sometimes the incentive) to drop out—and most do: over eighty percent leave. The rest press on to complete the summer and are given the opportunity to return and serve their country when a need arises.
Wyatt had known the new campers were arriving and made sure to be waiting when the plane touched down.
“Dude, what’s been up with you?” Cody walked behind, nearly clipping Wyatt’s heels. His energetic demeanor was downright obnoxious.
“What do you mean?” Wyatt yawned.
“You’ve been out of it all day.”
“Just a lot going on. New campers coming in.” Wyatt nodded at the wide-eyed kids stepping off the jet and onto the rollaway ramp.
“Blindfolds off. Come out and line up!” Viktoria called.
Jalen was the first off, stepping out into the green, glistening world.
Wyatt waved at Jalen, then turned to Cody. “You’re right,” Wyatt said. “Just had a long night. Now, go join your group.”
“Those are the Rovers?” Cody asked as the group filed out. He suddenly looked like what he was—a little kid. A scared boy on the first day of school.
“Just get over there.” Wyatt put his arm around Cody’s shoulder and walked him toward the group. “Hey guys, I’m Wyatt. That’s my brother, Cody. He’ll be joining you for Indoc.”
A sullen delinquent, Rayo Hernandez, who was thirteen but whose ’stache made him look more like fifteen, took one look at Cody and laughed. “Who’s this soft-ass punk?”
“You just heard,” said Jalen, “his name’s Cody.”
“And who do you think you are? The Equalizer? I’ll set both of y’all straight.”
“I’m just saying.” Jalen stepped bac
k.
“How about you don’t speak?” Rayo said. “That work?”
Cody and Jalen edged away and Rayo laughed.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Rayo called after them.
It was clear that neither Cody nor Jalen had had much experience dealing with kids like Rayo. Wyatt thought about interceding, but decided to let his brother and Jalen fight their own fights. They’d need that in order to survive and thrive at Valor. At least they had each other.
“Okay, everyone,” Avi called the group together. “In order for you new campers to be processed, we’re going to need some biometric data.”
Out of nowhere, a drone hummed into view.
“First order of business,” Avi continued. “Eye scan.” The drone buzzed up to one of the candidates—a goth-looking girl—and stopped. “A simple picture of your iris is all that’s required.” Avi turned to the girl. “Okay, Dragon Tattoo, let’s start with you. Your eyes look strangely green. Are you wearing contact lenses?” he asked.
The girl nodded.
“Well, take them out.”
She obeyed and tucked them into a case in her purse.
“Okay, hold still.”
“Scanning now,” the drone bleeped out. “Five seconds … four seconds … scan complete.”
The drone continued through the other half dozen kids who laughed nervously as the robotic bird weaved between them.
“All right, now the fun part,” Avi said blandly. “A blood and tissue sample.” He pulled out an EpiPen-like device and motioned for goth girl to remove her hoodie.
“Right shoulder, please.” Avi prepared the needle.
“Why am I the guinea pig?” the girl said.
“’Cause you just a pig,” Rayo cracked. “No one jabbin’ me with a needle unless it’s for a tattoo.”
Wyatt was about to teach Rayo a lesson when Cody stepped forward. “I’ll go first.”
Wyatt felt a surge of pride.
“Fine,” Avi said and stabbed Cody’s upper arm.
“Ouch.” Cody drew back, but Avi was already taking another needle from its sanitary wrapper.
