Firewall

by R. M. Olson

  Everyone turned to look at Jez.

  She grinned, winced, and leaned back, shoving the heels of her hands against her eyes. “OK, but here’s the thing,” she groaned. “I’m not totally sure I’m going to be alive after today, to be honest with you.”

  “You’ll be fine,” said Ysbel heartlessly. “I’m very, very sure you’ll be fine.”

  Jez lifted one hand and glared at her, then sank back into her seat.

  Lev was shaking his head resignedly. “Alright. But the thing is, everyone on this ship knows Jez. So we can’t just send her in there to play—there’s no way they’d let her in, first of all, and second, they’ll know immediately that whatever she does, it’s going to mess with their system.”

  “So, what do you suggest?” asked Ivan.

  Lev smiled. “I suggest this—we find a way to get Jez in the room, but hidden somewhere. We send Tanya and Olya in as well, and Jez tells them what they need to do to rig the games. I assume you could do that, Jez?”

  Ysbel sucked in a quick breath, but Tanya put a hand on her arm.

  Jez lifted the hand off her other eye and glared at him as well, then nodded sullenly.

  “And knowing Tanya and Olya, I don’t think we need to worry about putting Jez’s instructions into effect.”

  “Lev,” began Ysbel, her voice grim.

  Tanya shot her a quick glance, then turned back to Lev. “We’ll do it,” she said quietly. She paused a moment. “Even if this means I tell my daughter to take instructions from Jez,” she added, looking at the hungover pilot with some distaste.

  Ysbel’s heart was beating a little too quickly, but she bit her tongue.

  This was a conversation she and Tanya could have afterwards.

  “Thank you, Tanya,” said Lev. “In the meantime, I’m going to go over the information Tae and Ivan brought me, and I’ll try to figure out which games we’ll have to rig in order to change the outcome. We don’t want to attract attention, so the fewer things we have to mess with, the better.”

  Ysbel sat up, avoiding Tanya’s eyes. “And Lev,” she said quietly. “If I agree to this plan, I need to know that the Minister for Innovation and Development will be killed. You’ll have to find a way to make that happen.”

  Lev looked grim. “I’ll work on it as best as I can.”

  “Ysbel,” said Tanya quietly, turning to her. “I think we need to talk about this.” There was something in her voice and in her face that made Ysbel’s chest hurt, just a little.

  “Well anyways, I’m going back to my room, because you damn plaguers don’t know what talking softly actually means,” Jez grumbled, pushing herself gingerly to her feet. She swayed, grabbed for the back of her chair, and missed, and Lev jumped to his feet in time to grab her as she almost overbalanced.

  He caught her awkwardly, one hand on her arm, the other on her waist, and both of them froze. For a moment they stood like that, not seeming to notice that everyone around the table was watching them, and neither of them seemed to be able to take their eyes off the other’s face.

  Even sitting half a metre away, Ysbel could almost feel the tension sparking between them.

  And then, finally, Lev took his hand from Jez’s waist and swallowed. “Are—” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Are you alright, Jez?”

  “Yeah,” she muttered, her voice catching slightly. “I’m—fine.” She turned, and almost overbalanced again. Lev grabbed her elbow to steady her, and she stiffened as if she’d been jolted with a shock-stick. Then she pulled her elbow from his hand, and made her unsteady way from the room.

  Lev stood looking after her for a long, long moment, and there was a look on his face that held so much undisguised longing that Ysbel was very, very glad that the children weren’t there to ask questions.

  And then he gave a sharp shake of his head and turned back.

  Everyone around the table dropped their gazes simultaneously, but she noticed Ivan fighting back an amused grin.

  “Alright,” Lev said. He was clearly pretending not to notice, but there was a touch of irritation in his tone. “The rest of us had better get to work then. Tae, could you please send whatever you and Ivan have found over to my com?”

  Tae glanced up at him. “Why don’t Ivan and I come with you? We may have some insights. Anyways, it will probably involve me hacking something at some point, since I’m not sure that we’ve ever come up with a plan, in the entire time we’ve been working together, that didn’t involve me hacking into something.”

  Lev nodded, and the three of them stood and made their way back to Lev’s room.

  “It’s just as well Tae and Ivan went with him,” Tanya whispered, a hint of humour in her tone. “I’m not sure he would have made it to the right room otherwise.”

  Ysbel smiled, and for a moment, it was like it used to be.

  And then Tanya dropped her eyes again. “We should talk, Ysbel,” she said quietly, and Ysbel nodded.

  They walked back to their room, and Tanya closed the door after them. Then she turned and faced Ysbel.

  “Tanya,” said Ysbel. “I don’t like that Olya’s doing this.”

  Tanya looked at her searchingly. “Ysi,” she said, finally. “Olya is perfectly capable. You know that as well as I do. I don’t believe that is what you’re worried about, is it? You are more worried about the Minister being killed than you are about keeping Grigory from staging a coup to take over the entire system.” There was a hardness in her voice that Ysbel hardly recognized.

  She shook her head stubbornly. “Listen to me, Tanya—”

  “No,” said Tanya sharply. “You listen to me. We are doing this. You can choose, Ysbel. But I am doing this. My children will not grow up in a system that is run by the mafia.”

  “Our children might not grow up at all if I don’t—” Ysbel began.

  Tanya narrowed her eyes. “You will have to make your choice, then,” she said quietly. “But if you choose not to stop this—I don’t know if we know each other well enough anymore, Ysbel.”

  She turned away abruptly, and there was a long, long silence. Ysbel stared at her wife’s slender shoulders, the tense muscles of her neck and back, the tension that ran through her posture, and for one aching moment she wanted nothing more than to pull Tanya into her arms, kiss her until the hardness melted from her face and the tension melted from her body.

  But she couldn’t.

  For half a moment, she thought maybe she understood the look that Lev had sent after Jez.

  She was losing Tanya.

  And … well, as much as she hated to admit it, perhaps this time, Tanya was right. Ysbel had known her long enough to know that nothing she could say or do would stop her once she’d made up her mind. Perhaps for the moment, this may be the only way to keep her safe.

  At last she sighed. “Tanya. My love. Listen to me. You, and the children, you are everything to me.” She paused for a moment. “For you, then, my love, for now, I will agree to this. I’ll work with Lev to stop this thing.”

  Slowly, Tanya turned towards her, and Ysbel was shocked, suddenly, at the weariness on her face. “Ysbel,” she said at last. “I—”

  And this time Ysbel did gather her into her arms, and Tanya sagged against her, and Ysbel held her, stroking her hand down the tense muscles in her back.

  “It will be alright,” she whispered.

  But the tension in Tanya’s shoulders remained, no matter how tightly Ysbel held her, and Ysbel wasn’t entirely sure that that it would be alright.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  TAE LOOKED UP at a tap on the door, and blinked at the contrast in light.

  He’d been staring at his holoscreen for so many hours now he’d lost count, and it took him a moment to re-focus his eyes. When he did, he saw Ivan slip through the door.

  Ivan’s face was drawn from lack of sleep, his dark hair disheveled, barely-disguised circles under his eyes. He’d been working night shifts in the kitchen, and spending the days helping them with th
eir plans, and he looked somewhere beyond exhausted. But he smiled slightly when he saw Tae.

  “Tae,” he said, and there was worry in his voice. “Someone’s coming this way. Best put that away.” He glanced around. “And I’d best get back to the kitchens, our deception notwithstanding. I’m technically off-shift, but they said they might need me if it got busy.” He shot Tae a wry grin, and Tae grinned back despite himself. Since the day in the corridor the rumours had spread, and now it seemed no one questioned Ivan’s frequent visits to their rooms.

  He shook his head ruefully as Ivan slipped back out into the hallway.

  Once, just once, it would be nice to have a reputation that he’d actually deserved.

  Someone knocked on the door a moment later, and he stood to open it.

  A boyevik stood there, with a folded invitation made of actual paper. Tae took it and broke the seal, opening it carefully.

  Tae, it read. Grant me the pleasure of your company this afternoon in the dining room. 1400 Standard. I will be looking forward to it.

  It was signed, Zhenya.

  Tae glanced down at the folded paper for a long moment, worry churning in his stomach.

  What could they possibly want with him?

  Then again, what options did he have?

  “Tell Zhenya I’m honoured,” he said, looking up at the boyevik and trying not to let his feelings show on his face. “I’ll be there shortly.”

  “Tae,” said Zhenya, as Tae ducked through the heavy curtain into the private dining room. “I’m so happy you could join me.” They gestured to a seat, and Tae sat warily.

  “I’m—flattered you asked me here,” he said, trying to keep the nerves from his voice. “But I’m not certain—”

  “Tae.” Zhenya was smiling, a self-satisfied smile that made Tae’s stomach tighten with worry. “You worked very hard last time we met to convince me that you were a mediocre hacker at best.”

  “I—don’t know what—”

  Zhenya held up a hand. “You were very convincing, don’t worry. I’m not attempting to cast aspersions on what you did. But something didn’t sit quite right with me. Because as I told you, I know Masha. She’s not the kind of person to work with a mediocre hacker.”

  “I told you, I’m not—”

  Zhenya shook their head. “Please. Tae. Let me finish.” They paused a moment as Tae subsided. Then they smiled. “Of course, I couldn’t be completely sure that I was correct. Were you really what you said you were, a clever, over-eager street kid who managed to pull a con on Masha, and then make himself useful enough that she wouldn’t get rid of him? Or did you have hidden depths? I couldn’t tell.” They leaned forward. “But I love a puzzle. And the boyevik who brought you to my office last time told me an amusing story about you and a server. And eventually, I believed I had a solution. Which is when I called for you.”

  Tae’s heart was beating faster now, a feeling of dread creeping up his throat.

  “So I thought we’d play a little game,” Zhenya continued. They tapped their com.

  “Yes, Pakhan, what do you need?” someone answered immediately.

  Zhenya smiled at Tae as they spoke. “I’d like you to send up some blini for myself and my friend. I want them fresh—we don’t mind waiting.” They paused a moment. “Oh, and send my friend’s friend, Ivan Ivanovich, as a server, please. It would be a nice touch.”

  The sick, formless worry had solidified, knotting itself around Tae’s chest at the mention of Ivan’s name.

  Zhenya tapped off their com and leaned back in their chair. “So, Tae. It usually takes our esteemed chef about ten minutes to prepare a plateful of fresh blini. Maybe another minute for your friend Ivan to bring them up.” They glanced at their com, and tapped a button. “And—yes. I’ve just armed the device I had my people plant here earlier. When Ivan walks through the door, it will go off, and he will be blown into pieces. Unless, of course—” they shrugged delicately. “Unless someone were to hack through and disarm it.”

  Tae swore softly, feeling the blood drain from his face.

  Ten damn minutes, and he’d have to choose between keeping his hacking abilities secret and Ivan’s life.

  It wasn’t even a contest, although it probably should have been. He tapped his com, pulling up the holoscreen, and did a quick scan, ignoring Zhenya’s eyes on him.

  A simple laser tripwire. The moment the curtain brushed it, it would go off.

  He could set it off early, perhaps—no. It wasn’t just a tripwire. There was a pressure plate behind it, so it would only go off if there were someone standing there.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  He shook his com to reset it and did a second scan, a little more slowly.

  The trap must have been set into the room’s security system.

  He hadn’t tried hacking into the security systems yet, staying at the relatively shallow level of cameras and audio, because he’d wanted to keep what he could do a secret. And it was damn well not a secret any longer, because he wasn’t going to watch his friend blown to bloody fragments in front of him.

  He started typing rapidly. The system was complicated, more complicated than anything he’d hacked into recently, which only made sense, really—Grigory probably had people trying to kill him on a regular basis—but he was pretty sure he could do it. It would just take time …

  Which was exactly what he didn’t have.

  He scowled at his screen, biting the inside of his cheek.

  It was complicated, but not impossible. If he could just manage to find a way in, he was pretty sure he could figure it out—

  He worked quickly, trying to force his fingers not to tremble, trying to focus on each successive keystroke rather than the seconds ticking away, the panic rising in his chest.

  There! He was in. Now all he had to do was find where exactly the trap had been set into the system. And then disarm it, of course.

  In the background, he heard voices over Zhenya’s com, but he ignored them, because he had to get this done, he absolutely had to, there wasn’t another option.

  He was close, though, and it had only taken him five or six minutes so far, he should have plenty of time …

  “Tae.”

  He jerked his head up. Zhenya was smiling at him.

  “Good news, Tae. Our chef has outdone herself. Ivan is on his way as we speak.”

  Tae felt the chill through to his bones as he turned frantically back to the screen.

  Damn.

  He was never going to find it in time, there was no way—how long would it take for Ivan to get from the kitchen to their private dining room?

  For one frantic moment, he wondered if he could hit the com button, warn Ivan, and Zhenya would probably shoot Tae, but maybe—

  “Don’t bother,” said Zhenya, still smiling. “There’s another server behind him with a heat gun. If he makes one move, he’ll be shot in the back.”

  Tae squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

  Think. Where would Zhenya have hooked it in? This was a test, sure, but you could only hook something like this into the system so many ways—

  His eyes snapped open, and he began typing desperately. He was pretty sure—yes! There it was, and once he’d found it, disarming it was just a matter of a simple command.

  There were footsteps in the hallway outside.

  Holding his breath, he typed something into the system, fingers shaking, and hit enter.

  And then the curtains pulled back, and he jerked his head up, not wanting to watch but needing to see, because if he’d failed, if he hadn’t figured it out, this would be the last time he saw Ivan alive …

  Ivan ducked through the curtain, and when he caught sight of Tae he gave him a friendly smile. Then he frowned, and Tae realized he must look awful. He must look like he was about to faint, because he honestly felt like he was about to faint, whether from the gut-wrenching terror or the sick relief he wasn’t sure.

  “Your blinis, Pakhan,” Ivan murmured, casti
ng a worried glance at Tae.

  “Thank you,” said Zhenya. “That’s all, I think, Ivan.”

  Ivan bowed slightly, but as he turned to go, he mouthed, “You OK?” to Tae.

  Tae managed a weak smile and gave a small nod, and Ivan, still frowning, ducked out the curtain.

  When he was gone, Tae sat for a few moments, not certain if he could move even if he wanted to. Every single muscle in his body seemed to have turned to water.

  “Well done,” said Zhenya. Their voice was smug, but under the smugness was honest admiration. “I’ve never seen anyone hack like that.”

  Tae took a long breath and turned to Zhenya. “I did what you asked,” he said quietly, but his voice was hard. “I showed you what I could do. But I swear to you, I will die right here before I ever help you. I survived on the streets for twenty years, and it took everything I had to stay alive. But I will cut my own damn throat first.”

  The words were probably stupid, but he didn’t actually care at this point.

  Zhenya watched him calculatingly for a long time. At last they gave a pleasant smile. “Tae. Don’t worry. I know enough about you to know that threatening to kill your … friend would not endear me to you. But then, you never had any intention of helping us, did you? So really, what was there to lose?”

  “And what did you hope to gain?” Tae asked, his tone still hard.

  Zhenya shrugged. “Nothing, really. But as I said, I look into everyone here. That’s my job, and I’m good at it. And yes, I need to know everything about who Grigory is working with. But it’s also my job to know everything about who Grigory may be working against.” They gave Tae an insincere smile. “Here. Have a blini before you go. You worked hard enough for them.”

  Tae shoved back his chair and stalked out of the room, not bothering to respond.

  When he reached the room, Ivan was waiting for him. He looked exhausted, but he stood quickly when Tae entered.

  “Tae. Are you alright? What—”

  “I’m fine,” said Tae wearily. “I—they know what I can do now.”