“I’ve got the old ones,” Bakshi said, returning to his station. “I doubt they work anymore, but I’ll try them.”
“We don’t need to change the protocols ourselves,” Sisi said. “Just keep the next set of adjustments from kicking in.” She looked at Micah. “You know it’s already started, right? There’ll be more channels opening up when the harvester arrives, but some protocols have already been altered.”
“It’ll wait till the system is wide open,” Micah said. “So that it can push through as much data as possible, all at once.” That was if he had guessed right about Icelus’ plans. If not . . . well, then this would be their final hack before humanity’s collapse began.
“Can we disable the timing feature, maybe? Or reset it, to buy us more time?”
“Not without administrative codes,” Roz said.
“And it turns out mine aren’t current,” Bakshi announced. “No big surprise.”
Micah remembered what he’d done with the airlock hatches on Hydra. “What if we tricked the system into adjusting itself? Hit it with a big enough security threat that the failsafes kicked in? At the very least, that would force it to restrict traffic for a while. At best—”
“It would shut everything down until Security could identify and correct the problem.” Bakshi nodded sharply. “Could work. Could work.”
“We’d need a suitable threat,” Sisi pointed out. “Something that would require a system-wide response, but not actually harm the waystation. Because that would be serious terrorism, and could get us all killed.”
Hellbane leaned back in his chair. “So you’re saying we need something that can’t actually hurt the station, but that Security thinks will hurt the station.” He snorted. “Sure. That won’t be hard at all.”
“How about denial of service?” Roz suggested. “Take a program that isn’t a threat by itself, and flood all outgoing channels with it. Create so much traffic that security filters are overwhelmed. Safeguards will kick in, restricting the flow of data until the problem can be analyzed and dealt with. Maybe even shutting down all traffic for the duration. That would be automatic, and probably not something Icelus would have anticipated.”
There was silence for a moment. “I like it,” Bakshi said at last. “Clean, simple, and we don’t have to sabotage a waystation to do it.”
Sisi nodded. “We’ll need a program that won’t be perceived as a threat until it starts replicating. So the filters don’t shut it out.”
“Easy enough to design one,” Bakshi said. “But not in the time frame we’ve got. It would be better to adapt something that already exists.” He looked around the room. “Anyone have something suitable in their toolkit?” Silence. “Or other ideas?”
“How about an ad?” Roz suggested. “Those are designed to get around all sorts of filters. Start with an aggressive enough ad, and all we’d need to do is trigger uncontrolled replication. The ad itself would do the rest.”
Hellbane got up and walked to the counter, picked up a rainbow-colored burger wrapper, and held it up. “Like this one?” He grinned.
“God,” Sisi muttered, “I hate Kawaii ads.”
“But they’re good at getting past adblockers. So much so that their CEO has been indicted for breach of privacy laws.”
“Ex-CEO,” Sisi corrected.
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
“You realize the company will get for blamed this,” Roz said. “Is that something we care about? By the time anyone figures out that the logjam wasn’t Kawaii’s fault, their stock will have crashed and thousands of people will be laid off.”
“Their stock already crashed when the CEO resigned,” Hellbane told her, “and people can get new jobs. Being fed illusions by a hostile AI, on the other hand, and tricked into killing one’s own co-workers . . . that’s a little harder to recover from.”
“We’d need a copy of one of their ads,” Sisi said.
“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Bakshi looked at them. “Which is the search engine with all the privacy issues? The one that just got sued for selling personal data?”
“Zuber,” Micah said.
“Zuber it is.” He tapped a few controls on his touchscreen, waited a few seconds, and then leaned back in his chair. “Zuber on.”
“I’M HERE,” said a sultry voice from his speaker. “WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU, HANDSOME?”
Roz chuckled softly.
“Query search: What are the best hamburgers on Harmony Station? Query search: What are the top ten food chains? Query search: What’s the best restaurant to hold my kid’s birthday party at? Query search: What’s the most colorful food?”
“Don’t forget happiness,” Hellbane said.
Bakshi nodded. “Query search: How can I make myself happy again? Query search: What’s the relationship between food and happiness?” He paused. “Query search: What makes kittens so damned cute?” He exhaled sharply. “If all that doesn’t get me targeted by Kawaii ads, nothing will.”
“Hopefully soon enough to help us,” Roz said. She looked at Micah. “There’s your blockade. Now tell us . . . what exactly is Icelus planning to transmit?”
“We’re thinking spores. Copies of the virus that can infect the other stations, working independently toward a common goal.”
“Shit,” Hellbane muttered. “That’s fucked.”
“Whatever it’s planning won’t be good for humanity,” Roz said. “That much is certain.”
“Got one!” Bakshi announced, startling all of them. Then he scowled. “God help us, this ad’s got dancing chihuahuas.”
“Just get the code,” Sisi said.
“Duh.” He sighed heavily. “I hear there’s a special circle of hell for people who disseminate dancing chihuahuas.”
“If Icelus did send out spores,” Roz said, “they’d all share its sentience.”
Hellbane nodded. “And its hatred of mankind.”
“That’s probably why it didn’t set up shop on Harmony before this,” Micah said. “It didn’t want to risk its presence being detected before it was ready for an all-out blitz.”
Roz was about to respond when an image appeared on the room’s vid screen: a sleek silver ship framed by a field of stars. “Countdown’s starting.” She glanced at Bakshi. “How is that ad coming?”
“Pressuring me is good,” he muttered. “Doesn’t distract me at all.”
Numbers appeared in the lower right-hand corner of the screen. 100. 99. 98.
Four of them gathered around the vidscreen, watching in silence as the numbers changed. After 60, a thin black line appeared along the belly of the ship. Gradually it widened, the shell parting like insect wings. Slowly, so slowly. You would never know from watching the image that the ship was hurtling through deep space at incredible speeds. The cambots kept perfect pace with it, giving it the illusion of motionlessness.
“There!” Bakshi announced. “On its way. And just in time. Channels are already being reassigned, no doubt to accommodate that.” He looked at the screen. “Now we just pray we were fast enough to make a difference.”
Half the galaxy was supposedly watching this. Is their feed still clear? Micah wondered. Or was it faltering little by little as the cybersphere filled with dancing chihuahuas, thousands upon thousands of them, crowding out all other transmissions? Or would the feed black out suddenly, the signal extinguished when Harmony’s overloaded system shut down to save itself?
Everything was riding on that question.
The belly of the harvester was fully open now, revealing smaller ships nested inside. Each one carried within it precious cargo of mass and banked energy: things that couldn’t be generated in deep space, only imported. This was the lifeblood of the outworlds.
5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
The swallows were released.
They fell free from the mothership, spread
their wings, and took up position around her. The tissue-thin wings were solar collectors, and had no purpose in deep space, but they made for a glorious spectacle. Soon the sky was full of silver bird-ships that glittered like stars as they reflected the harvester’s exterior lights. Some were uncluttered, their cargo hidden inside their hulls, while others clutched treasures to their bellies. Yet others dragged massive objects behind them. It was the wealth of countless worlds, broken up into manageable portions so it could be delivered more easily to Harmony’s receiving station. The mothership itself would never stop.
Micah was startled out of his reverie by a com notification. He engaged the audio feed on his headset and heard Ru’s voice.
You watching the deployment?
“It’s on the screen now.”
Roz and Sisi looked over to see who he was talking to. He pointed to the com control on his headset.
Do you see the cambot that we spotted earlier? It’s in the same position as before, right up against the harvester? Easy to miss.
He walked closer to the image and peered at it. “Yeah, I see it. It’s the only one without wings.”
That’s because it’s not a cambot. It matches the sparrows—except for the missing wings—but it’s made of different material. The same kind of material Hydra used to construct its flyways. And according to my scanners, it doesn’t have enough mass to be full of cargo.
The look on Micah’s face must have alerted the others to the fact that something interesting was going on. Roz mouthed, What is it?
“Can I put you on speaker?” he asked Ru.
Who’s with you?
“Four partners in crime. All trusted. No one else.”
Go ahead.
A quick visualized command engaged the external speaker on his headset. “All right. They’re listening now.”
It also doesn’t have any doors, Micah. No mooring hatch, no airlock, no sign of any way for a person to get in or out, or even for cargo to be unloaded. It clearly wasn’t designed for human use. And look at the design. Perfect for getting close to Harmony without being noticed.
“Any clue what’s inside?”
Sorry, no. It’s sealed up tight.
“Any transmissions?”
None that I’ve detected yet. I’m watching.”
“That may be because of us,” Roz said. “We shut down the channel it needed to use. It’s probably waiting for it to open again.”
“Which it will soon enough,” Bakshi warned. He was looking at his workscreen, and his expression was not encouraging. “Security’s analyzing the assault. It won’t be long before it figures out what’s causing the problem, and either removes or circumvents it.”
“At which point,” Hellbane said, “whatever this wingless bird came to share with the outworlds is going to be sent. And we can’t do fuck-all to stop it.”
“We can if we take control of that ship,” Sisi said quietly.
Micah looked at her. “Can you hack into its navigation?”
“Not from here. Too much interference. I’d have to be closer.”
“Translation: we’ll need a ship.” Hellbane looked pointedly at Micah.
Micah put his hand to his headset. “You hearing this, Ru?”
I am. And I think you know my answer.
“We’ll get out there as fast as we can.”
Be careful.
Three of the hackers were already packing up their portables, moving quickly and efficiently. Bakshi remained at his station. “I’ll keep an eye on the gate and see if I can do anything to buy us more time. And handle Vienna if she calls for us.”
“Every minute you can buy us will help,” Micah told him. “Hell, every second.”
If they could take control of that ship and divert it from Harmony, then whatever spores Icelus had intended to transmit would no longer be a threat. But they had to do it before the Kawaii assault was neutralized, or all their efforts would be wasted.
Roz was staring at him. When she saw him look her way she grinned. “Micah’s got a girlfriend.”
God, he’d missed these people.
There is no miltary technology ever produced that is more deadly—or more powerful—than the human mind.
DUAEN CORREN
On Human Destiny
HARMONY NODE
INSHIP: ARTEMIS
THE HARVESTER had pulled ahead of its fledglings. Or rather, more accurately, the porter ships had decelerated, preparing to dock at the receiving station and unload their goods, while the mothership continued on at full speed. Of course the cambots would try to get the best possible view of the whole process, so they were lined up with their backs to the station, seeking the perfect image of gleaming winged ships against a backdrop of velvet blackness. Spectators had arrived as well, singlers and luxury yachts and tourist transports, all crowding behind the bots. Security cruisers were making regular circuits of the crowd, warning back anyone who got too close. No one would be allowed to ruin the view.
All of which suited Ru just fine. She was able to bring the Artemis within easy transmission distance of the porter ships without looking like anything other than a tourist. The cambots wouldn’t turn her way unless she gave them reason to. Perfect.
Micah’s friends were busy at the work table she had set up for them. Crisscrossed cables made the arrangement of their equipment look like a snake’s nest. It seemed oddly primitive to her—computers didn’t normally require physical connections—but Micah had explained that this arrangement was not only more efficient, but more secure. No one from the outside could detect their communication or interfere with their work, this way. Fair enough.
With luck—and skill—they’d be able to hack into the Hydran ship’s navigation system and take control of it. That was the hope, anyway. Micah seemed to think it was possible. But could they make it happen soon enough? The logjam of data that the hackers had created could break up at any moment, and then it would only be the work of seconds for Icelus to transmit its foul seeds to all corners of the galaxy. An invasion beyond any hope of recall.
“All good here,” came Bakshi’s voice over the com speaker. Ru had looped him into her system so he could report to the rest of the team as he tested Harmony’s connectivity.
Behind her, Roz suddenly cursed and slammed her hand down on the table, startling Ru. “Damn!”
Ru swiveled around to look at her. “What’s wrong?”
The hacker was glaring at her screen. “Ship’s network is completely self-contained. It has no channel to the outside. None at all. Which means there’s no way for us to get in.” She shook her head in frustration.
“Won’t you have an opening when it tries to transmit its spores to Harmony?”
“Yeah, but it’s not within range for that yet.” She glanced up at the navigational screen. “Six minutes to contact.”
“Still good down here,” came Bakshi’s ritual reassurance. The tension in his voice was palpable.
Hellbane shook his head in frustration. “Short of ramming the damn thing, I don’t see how we can stop it.”
“Is that possible?” Roz asked, looking at Ru.
Ru took a moment to swallow back on the sharp rejoinder that came to mind. “Our target’s in the middle of that formation. Every one of those porters is armed and probably programmed to respond automatically to any foreign vessel that gets too close. If the Hydran ship has fooled them into thinking it’s one of them, they’ll protect it.” She shook her head. “We’d be rubble before we got close.”
“How do you know they’re armed?” Micah asked.
“In this node? With a scavenger stronghold not a day’s flight away?” She laughed sharply. “That’s a given.” She looked at the main screen, eyes narrowing as she studied its display. “What we don’t know is what will trigger a response. How much can we do before it identif
ies us as a threat? How close can we get?”
“The cambots are flying awfully close,” Sisi pointed out. “They’re not being attacked.”
“Probably too small to be considered a threat. Artemis can’t pull that off. Especially if they detect our armaments.” Vienna’s three hackers turned around to look at her, eyes wide. “Yes, Artemis is armed. Not enough to do battle with that whole fleet, though, so don’t even ask.”
“What about picking off the Hydran ship from here?” Hellbane asked. “Can you do that?”
“Not in one shot. Which would be essential, because as soon as we fired we’d be classified as a hostile entity, and then we’d have that whole damned fleet to deal with. One shot is all we’d get.” She shook her head. “I’m not that well armed.”
“Still holding,” Bakshi announced.
“What about the porters?” Sisi asked. “I’m sure they’re networked to each other, so maybe we can slip in and take control of one. Then we could use its weapons.”
“And get them to take the Hydran out?” Roz nodded sharply. “Worth a try.”
All three of them went back to work again, navigational code scrolling down their screens too fast for Ru to read it. They were like a single creature, six-armed, single-minded, with Micah channeling data from the Artemis. Ru felt strangely isolated.
“Can’t do it,” Roz muttered. “Too well passcoded. Can’t find a way through that in—” She glanced up at the timer on the main display and shuddered. “Shit. Three minutes, guys.”
“Try to hack into navigation,” Micah suggested. “Maybe we can get one of the porters to ram the bastard for us.”
“Autopilot will see that coming and dodge it,” Ru said. “Even if you each took control of a ship, it’d just calculate all possible flight paths and find a way through the pattern.”
“Fucking autopilot,” Sisi muttered. “I hate those things.”
The relay station was visible on the display screen. Time was running out.
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