Blackout

by Chris Ryan

  Josh reached dewn to pick up his taco. 'What?' he said quickly.

  'Ever heard of a company called Porter-Bell?' said Kessler, his eyes flicking upwards nervously.

  'Vaguely,' interrupted Kate. 'Software, right? Run by a billionaire called Edward Porter.'

  Kessler nodded. 'A vicious company,' he said. 'Among the hackers and phreakers and the rest of the alternative software community, they arq nick-named Hanging-Bell. That's because if you touch one of their patents, or stray onto any of the bits of commercial territory they control, they come after you like a posse on speed. They make Microsoft look like a bunch of Boy Scouts. Nobody messes with them. Not if they've got any sense.'

  'What do they make?' asked Josh.

  'Industrial software,' said Kessler. 'The really big pieces of

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  kit that are used to control complex urban systems. The chances are that if you stop at a red light, or ride the subway to work, then you'll be relying on some Porter-Bell software. They are global, and in that space they are the best there is.'

  As he listened to the explanation, Josh could sense himself growing more and more uneasy. 'Let me guess,' he said. 'Luke was hacking into it.'

  'Big time,' said Kessler, his gaze sweeping across the sparse parking lot. 'What I found on his computer was a shadow. That's traces of a different operating system that has a different basic programming language to Windows. It's a proprietary system, one that belongs to just one company. I looked it up. It was designed by Porter-Bell. The kid must have been good, because that company has more security than the Pentagon. But I reckon there's only one explanation for what I found in that Dell. He'd been into their systems and stolen some of their codes.'

  Josh whistled. He already had a sense of what he was about to hear, but asked the question anyway. 'What kinds of codes?'

  'Security codes, of course,' replies Kessler. 'In particular, the codes for power-grid systems. You know about those?'

  Josh shook his head. Maybe I don't want to know, either.

  'Porter-Bell installs and operates power-grid software, the kit that gets the juice from the power station to the kettle in your kitchen,' said Kessler. 'It's like the holy grail of hackers. Get access to that software, and you could switch the power on and off at will. Gradually, Porter-Bell has been installing new software around the world, with upgraded systems that were meant to make the software invulnerable to attack.'

  'Where were the upgrades?' said Kate. 'Where did they start?'

  'Three different cities,' said Kessler. 'London, Paris and New York.'

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  'Christ,' said Josh. 'You think Luke was responsible for the Three Cities attack earlier this year?'

  Kessler nodded. 'And that's why I don't want anything more to do with you.' He finally took a cheesy potato. 'I'm talking to you now, and after that I hope that I never have to see you again.'A slow smile crossed his lips.'Heck, maybe nobody will.'

  With his right hand, Kessler pushed the computer further across the bonnet of the car: he touched it only with the tips of his fingers, as if it might be contaminated. 'Here's what I think happened,' he continued. 'I think this kid managed to hack into the codes, and then turned off the lights in those three cities to see if the program he had written worked. Maybe he's a great hacker, or maybe he's just some punk who happened to get lucky. That happens from time to time -- you get some bright kid who gets a few breaks and cracks into the Pentagon computers. But however he did it, your kid didn't know what he was messing with.'

  'Meaning what?' says Kate.

  'Meaning, crack open that code, and Porter-Bell wants to kill you, the Government wants to arrest you, and every nut, psychopath and terrorist is going to try and steal it off you.'

  A malevolent smile was playing on Kessler's face and Josh was sure that he could detect just a hint of jealously in his voice. 'Think about it. The ability to turn off the power anywhere in the world at will. Everyone wants it, and you've got it. There ain't no safe place in the world for you to hide.'

  Kessler turned around, walking back in the direction of the parked Beetle. 'Next time my lights go off, I'll be thinking of you.'

  Josh watched as the car pulled out of the parking lot, disappearing along the slip road that led back out to the highway. He took the last bite out of his taco, and threw the remains of the food in the bin.

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  'Come on,' he said to Kate. 'Let's get out of here.'

  'To where?' Kate asked. 'Where the hell are we going?'

  'To find Luke,' replied Josh. 'Before they do.'

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  FOURTEEN

  Thursday, June 11th. Dawn.

  Kate lay at Josh's side, her eyes still closed, her red hair draped across her face. Josh stood up, and walked gingerly towards the Mustang. Reaching for a bottle of water, he threw some down his throat, drinking a quarter of a litre in one gulp. Slowly, he could feel himself starting to wake up.

  The ground beneath them was dusty and harsh. Josh could feel a wind blowing across his face: grating, violent gusts of air, filled with grit, that seemed to smash into his skin.

  As he looked around, he briefly wondered where he was. Behind him he ceuld see a gently sloping hill dotted with pine trees. Below him he could see the narrow road twisting into the distance. Further away he could see a river meandering its way towards the horizon.

  Neither of them had had enough energy to drive far last night. After Kessler left, they took the Mustang out into the back roads along the state border. It was too dangerous to risk checking into a motel, and neither Josh nor Kate knew enough about this countryside to find adequate shelter for the night. So after driving through the darkness for twenty minutes, Josh turned off the road, ploughing along a dirt track that twisted its way through some fields. They might as well stay there, he had decided. They weren't going to find anywhere better.

  As they lay down together, pulling the one blanket they had in their kitbags over their heads, Kate suddenly grabbed

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  hold of Josh, pulling his body close against her: her fingers clawed him as if she were clinging onto him in fear that he might escape from her.

  Josh had fallen immediately into a deep sleep, blocking out all his senses. As he drifted off, an image suddenly drifted through his mind. The brunette. The one he had seen a few days ago. Her lips were moving. She was shouting. But he couldn't hear anything she was saying.

  Now Josh paced around to try and warm himself up. They had learned so much in the last twenty-four hours. Flatner was looking for Josh, as well as for Luke. Someone was paying him to do it. And he wanted Josh dead. It was a fair conclusion that whoever that was, he'd also had something to do with Josh's shooting.

  Then again, Luke had been hacking into the software systems of Porter-Bell. His mother had told them that-he'd been talking about how he was going to make a lot of money sometime soon. That wasn't hard to figure out. He and Sen had cracked some lucrative code, and had thought that they could make some money out of it.

  Edward Porter, Josh had'concluded as they completed the long drive. That's the link. We need to know a lot more about him.

  He walked across to Kate. 'Wake up,' he said gently, passing her a bottle of water.

  Her eyes opened, drowsy at first, then fiercely alert. She snapped out of her sleep, looking around her. 'Where the hell are we?' she said, glancing up^t Josh.

  'Nowhere.'

  Kate took the water, drinking a few mouthfuls, then using the rest of the bottle s contents to wash her face and hands. Some of the dust and grime from the field was sticking to her shirt and jeans, and some earth had lodged itself in her hair.

  'What's the plan?' said Kate.'Where do you want to start?'

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  'Your house,' said Josh.

  There was a pause. 'You think he's there?' Josh shook his head. 'No,' he answered. 'But Marshall has ; a fine collection of guns. I'm going to see if I can borrow
/>   I some. For the next stage of this battle, I think we need to

  i be armed.' He chuckled harshly. 'To the teeth.'

  1 'It's two hundred miles back there,' said Kate.

  ; 'Then we'd better get started.'

  I

  i Josh walked carefully towards the house. His eyes were scan i ning first left, then right, and his ears were tuned for the

  slightest noise: a whisper of wind, the wings of a bird, or

  [ the movement of a snake through the sand, any of them

  I would have alerted him instantly. But there was nothing.

  The place was as still as a graveyard.

  I If anyone is there waiting, then I'm done for, thought

  Josh. It's at least two hundred yards to the house. They will see me long before I can see them.

  He picked up his pace. There was no cover, and no way of approaching the building without being seen. Checking j that Kate was still behind him, he started to run towards

  I the front door.

  I 'I don't like it,' said Kate suddenly. 'Something's wrong.'

  j The hinge of the door was hanging loose. Josh stood

  ; next to the entrance to the house, holding on to a frag i ment of wood that had once been part of the door.

  'My God,' said Kate. 'What the hell happened?' It was only as they approached the porch that they could see the extent of the damage that had been done to the house. They stepped inside together, noticing at once that the television was still on. The door had been smashed in. An axe, Josh guessed, given the way in which the wood had splintered and split. The hall had been left untouched, but both the bedrooms had been turned upside down, every drawer flung open, the contents tossed onto the floor. The

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  mattresses had been ripped open with knives -- the stuffing was bulging out of them. Across the floor the scattered debris was lying in a heap.

  And Josh noticed something else as well. There was no sign of Marshall.

  Josh moved through to the kitchen. Every cupboard door had been ripped from its hinges, the food tipped out, and every box and jar thrown open. Flies had started to invade the house, settling thickly on the food spread out everywhere: a couple flew away as Josh stepped into the room, but the rest just carried on eating. Looking down, Josh could see that the intruders had discovered the hiding place beneath the floor: the boards had been ripped apart and the staircase smashed up.

  'Where the hell is my dad?' said Kate, her voice ragged.

  Josh took a moment to survey the damage. Professionals, he concluded. They knew how to search a building quickly and efficiently, and they didn't care how much damage they did. 'They were looking for me,' said Josh.

  Kate shook her head from side to side. Her expression was concentrated, intense. 'No,' she said. 'They were looking for something smaller than a man, something that might be hidden here. They've ripped open mattresses. They've opened up all the food jars. A man can't hide in one of those.'

  'Then it's the computer,' said Josh. 'Luke's computer -- that's what they want.'

  'Or a disk,' said Kate.

  'Christ, I hope they haven't attacked Luke's mother,' said Josh.

  Josh walked quickly through to the room where he had slept. The bed had been knifed to shreds. Next, he strode to the back of the house, to the small room where Marshall kept his guns. Nothing. The rack was still there: a thick, solid slab of finely polished wood, with a dozen oblong slots in it. But the weapons were all gone.

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  'The guns,' shouted Josh to Kate. 'All taken. And there's still no sign of Marshall.'

  Josh walked back to the kitchen. Kate was standing by herself, next to the sink. The glasses were all broken, but she'd found a plastic beaker and was taking a sip of water. Josh could see her eyes flickering toward the TV. Whoever had ransacked this place must have left it on. Probably checking the TV actually worked, figured Josh. Not just an empty box with something hidden inside it. Like I thought, professionals.

  The newsreader was the kind of highlighted blonde who dominated every news channel in America. 'In a terrifying reprise of the Three Cities Attack earlier this year, the power was dramatically switched off in four different cities for precisely one hour this morning,' she was saying.

  Josh put his arm around Kate's shoulder, watching the news intently. He could feel the tension rippling through her as he held her body next to his.

  'At precisely nine o'clock this morning the power got switched off in Orlando, Seattle, in the historic holiday town of Jamestown in New York State, and in Harrison in Tennessee. In each incident, the power shutdown caused widespread panic and confusion. Road systems stopped working, factories, office buildings and schools had to be closed and hospitals had to shut their doors since even their emergency back-up generators couldn't cope with the demand for electricity. Although the power has now been restored in each city, reports are coming in of several injuries in both Seattle and Orlando, mainly caused by traffic accidents as the street lights went down. Air traffic control was suspended in the cities, and all flights in and out have had to be diverted. There are also reports of widespread looting in Orlando as local police failed to stop panic spreading through the streets.'

  'So what caused this latest blackout? There is plenty of

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  speculation about a terrorist assault, just as there was with the Three Cities Attack earlier this year. Some people are saying that it could have been a blow against Microsoft because Seattle was one of the cities where the power was shut down and that is where the software giant is based. Other people are saying it could be an attack on the Kennedy Space Centre, based near Orlando, although no rocket launches were scheduled for this morning.'

  'A spokesman for the White House said that they were at this stage ruling out the possibility of a terrorist attack, and that a full investigation was now under way into how the power failed in four cities across the United States at precisely the same moment. The White House is due to make a fuller statement later today. After this break, we go over live to our correspondent in Orlando to find out how local people are coping with the aftermath of the blackout.'

  Josh looked towards Kate. 'Luke,' he said simply. 'He's still out there.'

  'Or his software,' said Kate. 'Maybe somebody else has got hold of it by now.'

  'You think they took Marshall?'

  'Maybe they killed him?'

  Josh shook his head. 'You see any sign of a struggle?' he replied. 'Blood on the floor? Gunshot holes in the wall? No. I reckon if they had taken Marshall there would have been a fight. He left before they got here.'

  She's brave, thought Josh. Her father has disappeared, and yet she appears confident that he's pkay. Maybe she just has a lot of faith in the old guy.

  'But they've linked the two of us,' said Josh. 'I reckon they got Marshall's name from Madge before they killed her. That's why they came out here. Whoever did this, they now know that you and Marshall have been helping me.'

  Kate walked to the back of the hallway. A computer was plugged into the wall, and although the cable linking the

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  IF'

  screen to the keyboard and the power box had been ripped apart it looked to have been undamaged. Kate spent a few seconds checking the machine, then fired it up. 'That number you took, the man who called Flatner telling him to find you,' she said. 'Have you still got it?'

  'We haven't got enough time,' snapped Josh. 'How the hell do we know when they'll be back?'

  'We have to know for certain,' said Kate. 'Without that, we have nothing.'

  Josh sat down next to her. There was a stillness to the house. The sun was beating down outside, its rays spilling across the broken and scattered furniture. There was not even a hint of a breeze and the insects that populated the yard had fallen quiet. Josh read out the number that he had already committed to memory. '08732 611544.'

  / may not remember much, but I can remember that.

  Josh watched as K
ate fired up the Internet connection. She was searching through a succession of different websites, then sent out some e-mail from her Hotmail address. Her expression was one of total concentration: her stage was fixed on the screen and her fingers were moving swiftly across the keyboard. In her left hand, she was playing with a pencil, toying with it in her mouth as if it was a cigarette. She looks just the way she was when I first opened my eyes.

  Standing up from the desk, Josh started to walk back through the shattered house. Sometimes it was best to give people a few moments to^themselves, he decided. He started sorting through some of the rubbish, trying to figure out what kinds of weapons had been used. Some sharp knives, he figured. An axe. Maybe a hammer and a wrench. The bastards brought a whole branch of B&O with them.

  The yard was empty. Josh stood outside, shielding his eyes from the burning sun. He looked out across the dusty plain, his eyes scanning the horizon for any kind of movement.

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  Nothing. The landscape looked lifeless. Whoever had come here, they had left no trace of themselves.

  / won't be sorry to see the back of this godforsaken country.

  He took a sip of water, trying to clear the headache that was scratching against the inside of his skull. What the hell am I doing? he wondered to himself. Why don't I just hand myself in to the police?

  'Found it,' shouted Kate from the back of the corridor.

  Josh walked swiftly back to where she was sitting. She was leaning into the computer. He looked down. On the screen, he could see an e-mail, but it seemed to have been sent from an anonymous account. The words were printed in small bold lettering. 'The number 08732 611544 is a private cellphone number operated by Verizon Wireless. The account is registered in the name of a Mr Edward Porter.'

  'So it's him,' breathed Josh. 'That's the fucker who sent Flatner to kill me.'