by Peter Tylee
Hans scanned his instruments to refresh his memory on the sate of the previous experiment.As usual, it was fubar. Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tempted to start pulling it out. Okay, what’s going wrong here?He knew what the original material would do if gathered in large enough quantities; Hans was striving to fabricate something that had the same desired properties but none of the disastrous side effects.
Kat distracted him by entwining herself around his legs in gratitude for the first smidgeon of kindness anyone had shown her. Hans couldn’t begrudge a smile and he flopped onto the couch and petted her until she was twitching in a dream-filled sleep. Although he didn’t know it, he was indebted to the animal for nudging his mind from the endless cycleof failed experiments. Okay: cat food, kitty litter, a basket to sleep in, something to play with – like a ball, a plate…It was the first time he’d truly relaxed in months and it felt fantastic. And, as many great inventors would testify, the best ideas usually came when something completely different occupied the inventor’s mind.
*
Thursday, September 16, 2066
World Economic Forum
14:45 Washington DC, USA
The heat was sweltering.
At least, it was for Nathan Bradford as he struggled to focus on the proceedings. He nervously adjusted his tie and collar then mentally rebuked himself for the outward manifestation of his anxiety. Why’s the environmental control set so damn high?He didn’t enjoy having sweat trickle down his back and soak into his underpants. And neither his suit nor the starch his drycleaners had ironed into his shirt was helping. It left him feeling like a potato crisp.
Their seating in the WEF conference hall was arranged in concentric semicircular rings with a daunting stage pinned at the focal point. A screen that reminded Nathan of the last time he’d visited a cinema was hanging on the far wall, behind the French dignitary who was blabbering about the images projected there. If Nathan had bothered to plug in his earphones he would have heard the English translation, a poor approximation of the Frenchman’s flamboyant speech, but a translation none the less. The hall designers had spared no expense; they’d splurged on exquisite upholstery and the most ergonomic chairs they could find. But Nathan’s discomfort had little to do with the physical appointments in the hall.
The people around him were enthralled. Some nodded at seemingly random intervals, wearing their most scintillated expressions while doting on every word dribbling through the audio system. Whatever the Frenchman was prattling on about it must have been mesmerising. Nathan snuck a look to his right and saw his CEO, Neil Walker, leaning forward, eagerly awaiting the next slide that would fade onto the screen. He didn’t appear nervous. How’s that possible?Nathan wondered, sitting on his hands to stop them from fidgeting. It didn’t work. A few seconds later he was rearranging the papers that had cascaded over his generous desk. The black velvet folder at the bottom of the mediumsized stack sent chills through his fingers whenever he touched it. The last time Nathan remembered being so jumpy was before a debate in high school. Year eight history if I’m not mistaken.In any other circumstances he’d be grinning at the memory, but instead he clamped his jaw shut to stop his teeth from chattering,just as he had then.
The thought of delivering bad news to the most powerful people in the world wasn’t something he relished. Oh shit, they’re going to eat me alive.He cast another glance toward Neil, admiring him for his outward calm. They’re going to chew him up too.He had no difficulty imagining them lynching everyone in the PortaNet corner.
He’d been trying to summon the couragefor weeks. He had topresent PortaNet’s research findings but had shrunk from the task at every occasion, always ending up thoroughly disgusted with himself. Today’s the day.His breathing deepened as a fresh wave of adrenaline tingled his innards. Years of public speaking didn’t appear to be paying off.
Deep down, he knew today wasn’t his day and he despised himself for it. He took self-loathing to a completely new level and wondered whether he should start a drug habit to conform to his pitifully low self-opinion.
Next time.He’d used the same consolation before. But this time I mean it. Sadly, he’d meant it last time too.
*
Jackie sucked in her stomach and puffed out her chest before shoving the doors open. Nobody paid her much attention, save for a few bored members at the back of the hall who broke off their game of hangman to snigger at her tardiness.
She absorbed the scene in an instant and determined that she hadn’t missed anything important. She rarely did. At least, nothing vital to the smooth operation of her company. With a determined stride that could shrivel the penis of a horny chauvinist, she wove a path to her seat, three rows from the front on the right side of the partial locus. And with measured movements she laid her agenda on the desk, which curvedto the right and merged with her armrest. Next, sheopenedthe dainty earphonecanister and plugged the earphones into the intended socket.
“…that it’s not important. I think it clearly demonstrates this.” It was a young woman’s voice, which seemed wrong when the speaker was a fifty-something man. Who co-ordinates these things?She wished she knew. She’d have some harsh words to deliver from her forked tongue if she could find the appropriate people to spit at.
“I would like to thank you for permitting me this opportunity today…” The interpreter paused, hesitating with her translation. “I hope you have a better understanding of the intricacies involved in American-European trade relations.”
The spectators started clapping. Oh God, not again.Jackie hated it when people clapped. It was so… thirties.But the age distribution in the room fit perfectly with the antiquated custom. Haven’t we grown out of that yet?She, for one, had never clapped at a WEF meeting. And she never intended to either.
She curiously scanned the meeting’s agenda for anything of interest while the French orator left the stage to make way for the chairman. She knew she had a while; the man was more lard than anything else. What a fat tub of shit.It filtered through her callous mind in a matter-of-fact tone. He’d be the perfect candidate to test Xantex’s oh-so-miraculous weight-loss drug.He was too large to walk – he waddled. And he soured the appetite of anyone near him in a restaurant.
Unsurprisingly, there was nothing on the agenda that tickled Jackie’s fancy and she contemplated leaving. After all, she had importantthings to do. Then she remembered – she needed the WEF. She needed the status and power that membership into the secretive invitation-only organisation conferred. It amused her to think how it’d wrested so much influence from the old-style governments and come to dominate the world. Genius, pure genius! Invite the rich and powerful to a private cubbyhole, stand back, and watch them change the world.She was inwardly impressed by how far the WEF had come since its infancy in the late twentieth century. Now it closely resembled a world government – TheWorld Government – or so it purveyed. The fact that it harboured only the first world’s interests didn’t matter. Concern over the squalor-bound third world was dwindling due to floundering public pressure. She thanked the TK-Media Empire for that, specifically the seven men and two women in the first row on the left side of the arc. And the fact that the WEF was non-democratic flowed like water off a duck’s back – she was one of the invited. Sure, UniForce currently has only one seat, but soon we’ll have more.Still in its relative infancy, UniForce was one of the newest giga-corporations on the well-beaten block.
Corporate-driven issues consumed a hefty chunk of the agenda. A button on her control panel would place her in a time-slice queue if she pressed it, but she couldn’t think of anything worth raising. No, today I watch.The concerns dredged up by her fellow corporate leaders were usually more interesting than the scheduled presentations, which explained why Jackie wasn’t shy of turning up late to WEF meetings. She didn’t really give a flying fuck what some pretentious French attaché thought about Euro-American trade relations. It was far more interesting to sit t
hrough the snarling and clawing of inter-corporate bickering on matters that ranged from mundane copyright infraction to exotic hostile takeovers. Besides, it was her duty to interact with fellow Important People. Sometimes she thought she spent too many hours buried with tedious matters that nobody else seemed competent enough to deal with. She inwardly sighed when a Xantex drone plodded to the stage. I need to find someone reliable, someone to make those decisions without me.Her skin crawled when she thought of PaulSavage taking more initiative. And,she thought brutally, I need someone clever enough to keep him on a tight leash.
The man at the podiumwas proposing a new law to make it easier for Xantex to access sealed patient records. Jackie wondered whether anybody in the room was paying attention. People were muttering in dozens of private conversations that spread like wildfire across the hall. The Xantex representative, possessing such a timid voice, found it difficult to maintain order. Jesus, haven’t you got any balls?Even the sensitive microphone and audio loop equipment weren’t helping. The man spoke the way he walked – plodding along in monotone with a painfully regular cadence. When it was time for the vote, Jackie watched less than a third of the attendees reach for their controls. So she took pity on the man and decided to boost his voting turnout. But that meant she must also decide how to vote, and she’d paid no attention to the details of his proposal. I bet you have a small dick.She thumbed the button marked ‘negative’ and impatiently waited for the voting window to lapse. The results projected onto the screen: motion rejected. He required a 50 percent majority and, being incapable of enthusing 50 percent to vote, passing the motion was unlikely.
Little of interest turned up during the remainder of the meeting and Jackie was almost relieved when the chairman announced the closure of the meeting. Resembling schoolchildren released from class after an intensely boring day, a wave of WEF invitees shuffled for the portals, Jackie among them. She wasn’t in the mood for hobnobbing and she’d already registered her presence. She’deven participated in several votes and that was what counted. Participation was a vital component to acceptance in the WEF community.
It was a relief to get back to San Francisco, but a drain on her patience at the same time. PaulSavage ambushed her as soon as she stepped from the portal.
“Ah, there you are.” Paul smiled affably, turning on his cheap charm. “I wanted to talk to you about, uh, the shareholder meeting.”
“Good.” Jackie was already looking forward to the end of the conversation, but the meeting was in less than three hours and she had to set things straight in Paul’s muddled mind before then. “Now’s perfect. My office?”
“Sure.” Paul meandered unsteadily through the corridors, frustrating Jackie that she had to slow her pace on his behalf. “I’ve been reviewing, uh, the figures.” He paused to rub a hand across his face once he was occupying the seat opposite Jackie’s desk. “I think the shareholders will be pleased.”
Jackie nodded for the benefit of their work relationship, inwardly itching for the opportunity to replace him. She didn’t want the limelight for herself, but she had to select his replacement carefully and time the transition to perfection.Shareholders were finicky. If their feelings were even slightly out of tune, they’d dump UniForce stock with joyful abandon. Jackie attributed it to their mental instability. That was why Paul Savage was so important; he had a certain quality that shareholders loved. He was a harmless-uncle figure with which they would trust their hard-earned investment Credits. Jackie hated shareholders even more than she hated Paul. Her ideal company had unlimited capital and no shareholders. A dream. A pleasant dream that left her warm and fuzzy inside, but reality always came crashing through like a pail of cold water, rather rudely she thought. “And you’re comfortable answering questions about our new direction?”
Paul’s bushy eyebrows twitched, announcing that he had no such comfort, but he nodded regardless. “Uh, yes. I think we’ll do well to reinforce the theme of our return to, uh, grassroots.”
What a stupid thing to say.Jackie had to bite the inside of her cheek – hard enough to draw blood – to stop from saying the flood of venomous things that popped to mind. Grassroots? Our grassroots are in criminal apprehension, not private security.She leanedback in her inflate-a-gel cushioned chair while she thought of how to tell Paul he was an idiot. “Maybe instead you should say we’re heading in a brave new direction. Tell them we’re poised with the opportunity to raise UniForce to the next synergetic level.” She would have offered him a sour smile if it didn’t stretch her skin like a mannequin. “I don’t think people are interested in grassroots anymore. The past is over and people are dusting their palms and looking to the future for salvation.” She leant forward, placed her elbows on her desk, and stared into his puppy-dog eyes. “And that’s what we can sell, an image of UniForce providing the salvation they’re so desperate to find.” Didn’t I set up a marketing department to come up with this crap?It sickened her to think they were employing an entire floor of marketeers and this pathetic scrap sitting in front of her hadn’t consulted them about the shareholder meeting. She couldn’t fathom that the marketeers would recommend the grassroots approach. It was extinct. It hadn’t been successful for over a decade. The marketing department, not a true company branch since it lacked a co-ordinator, was being woefully underutilised. She planned to fix that at the next co-ordinators’ meeting.
It took Paul a while to process the idea. “Uh, yes… I suppose that could work.” He flipped open the folder on his lap and scratched away with a chewed pencil, which Jackie thought was unbecoming of the company’s public CEO.
Her temper-thermometer was so hot it was melting. “I’m glad you like the idea,” she said between clenched teeth, as though she had icicles in her veins. Little wonder she didn’t trust herself in the same room as the shareholders. If one of them asked a stupid question she was liable to chew his or her head off, and shareholders always asked the dumbest things.
She was relieved when Paul went to prepare for the meeting, leaving her alone in her big, empty office. Maybe I need a holiday?She promised herself one as soon as she found a solution for her staffing issue, and she jotted in her calendar the date by which she intended to be in her little cabin in the mountains.
*
Thursday, September 16, 2066
UniForce Headquarters
14:48 San Francisco, USA
James felt fresher after his three-hour nap. It’d revitalised his mind, which he now reapplied to the problem. He’d contacted his wife at 7:30 in the morning, the time she normally woke up, and she’d told him he sounded drunk. Tired, yes. Drunk? No.James wished he were. Drunk is more fun.She hadn’t been angry though, which was surprising. He wondered why.
The critter in his network was still there. He was sure of it. The constant blip from his implants warned of the anomaly, but it was nothing his systems could collar. It was unspeakably frustrating and his legs ached from a night of sitting. He was too scared to think about his back, every time he did it sent a spasm of dizzying pain past his lumbar region and into his hips. So he focussed on his network instead, like a dedicated employee. He hoped the overtime would entitle him to something special. Like a week’s vacation, or a bonus.Sure, it was his job to protect the network from outside – and inside – attack. But he was putting in at least 200 percent.
He checked Echelon’s central nervous system, pleased to find it ticking over as usual. It purred in his implant, like the rumble of an idling V8. He remembered the deep-throated growl of powerful engines from his sojourns to the motor show Detroit City put on every December to bask in their glorious history. He’d pestered his wife for three weeks before she’d agreed to go with him, not that she’d appreciated the fine automobile specimens on display.
At least they haven’t gone for Echelon.It provided little comfort, for all he knew they were scheming a way to shatter it now. He’d find them if they tried, but by then it might be too late to prevent the damage. And Echelon was UniForce’s
most precious system. He’d naturally be able to repair whatever they did, but his pride would take a beating – and his arse a chewing – if that happened.
He felt godlike, having direct control over the most devastatingly powerful system in the world. And it’s mine… all mine.Sure, he took his orders from above, but they never knew whether he modified their search terms or filtered Echelon’s catches. In a sense he had even more power than the CEO, despite her WEF contacts. Jackie Donald’s pitiful technological experience wasn’t a tenth of what she would need to maintain Echelon. That was why she always ensured James was happy and under control. He snorted. A rogue system administrator could cripple a network-dependant company.
His euphoric feeling of ultimate power brought his arduous years at university into focus.Ever since accepting the position of information technology co-ordinator, life had actually made sense. This is why I studied so hard.And his years of meticulous study enabled him to crack the shell of his current problem. He found evidence to conclude the hacker had penetrated the last barrier. Shit. He’s good.He tracked the entrance hole and sniffed through his roster of logs to see what the intruder had been doing.
But this doesn’t make sense.James screwed his eyes shut in confusion, concentrating harder on the information stream in his head. He spent days hacking in and then stopped as soon as he got inside. It posed a number of troubling questions. Has he gone already? What was he here for? Did he copy files?He initiated a consistency scan of UniForce’s database. It usually took five to ten minutes, depending on network traffic and the current compaction of the database,so he left it running in the background. In the meantime, he began plugging the hole in the network’s inner layer. It wasn’t difficult. He simply shut down an application, restored a file from backup, and then restarted the application. Of course, nothing was ever thateasy on a UG7-rated network, not even for the system administrator. There were another six layers to mend, but he intended to save them for later. First he wanted to ascertain how much damage the hacker had inflicted.
