Audio Assault

by Jeff Adams

  TOS was doing its best to keep a lid on the cause of the violence while we did our work. We had a lot of the cell phone footage and were working behind the scenes to make sure what was out there didn’t have the dangerous audio. How much the story could be controlled was a wild card, so we needed to hurry up and figure this out. Meanwhile, there were random reports of fights breaking out as people saw news reports.

  The doorbell rang, and I had a pretty good idea what had just arrived.

  “I’ll get it.”

  Through the glass, I saw a woman holding a midsize box. Lorenzo, as usual, acted very quickly to get what I needed. We traded the code words to prove I was the recipient.

  “What’d you get?” Dad asked as I returned to the table and tore into the box.

  “Phones. I wanted a few to see if there was any change based on the device that was used.”

  So far this morning, the TOS team had focused on the violence but the other threat in the songs remained—stealing data off the devices that played them.

  I called Lorenzo, and as soon as we properly identified, I put him on speaker. “Is there any evidence that people’s electronic devices were compromised this morning?”

  “Not that we know of,” Lorenzo said. “We’re on site analyzing the phones we have. It seems almost impossible that a device that’s not already configured to do so could be triggered to send data due to an audio signal. But nothing about this case adds up. The assumption has been that data could only be stolen if the song was on the device, but we are checking.”

  “I’ll experiment with the phones you sent as well. Any other news?”

  “Not yet. Just a lot of analysis. Split Screen reports progress, though, on the data trace. It’s insane how much they’re hopping the data, parking it for a time and moving it again. We’ll keep you posted on that. The expanded audio team is also getting to work.”

  “Thanks, Doc. Talk soon.”

  Something had changed in the audio component. I didn’t freak out yesterday, even though the security was tripped. I still had that song on my laptop, and it was the best place to start an analysis.

  “Do either of you have voice recognition activated on your computer or phones?” I looked to Mom and Dad. “If you do, I’m about to run a test that should yield a security alert.”

  “I don’t have it active on my laptop, but it’s on the phone,” Dad said.

  “I leave it off on all my devices unless I know I need it.”

  The answers didn’t surprise me. Mom was more skittish about devices that listened all the time—far more than Dad was. He used Siri on his phone often.

  I hit Play on my computer and the song started.

  The laptop warning screen came up in a couple of seconds, followed almost immediately by my phone. Dad’s went off next.

  The alerts were so loud.

  I slammed the laptop shut. The music didn’t stop.

  “Theo?” Dad asked.

  I knocked the computer to the floor.

  My head was about to explode.

  “Make it stop!”

  Mom stood and put her hands on my shoulders. I tried to stand and push her away, but she held me down.

  “Victor!”

  So much chaos.

  “Try to stay calm.” Mom’s voice did nothing to soothe me.

  “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  I shoved the table, forcing it away and knocking over the chair Dad had been in. Mom still held firm.

  What was I doing?

  I reached for her hand, but she moved fast to get both my arms just above the elbow.

  She forced my arms behind me.

  “I don’t know his password,” Dad yelled.

  It hurt. I had no leverage to get free.

  “Get away from that!”

  These were my parents. I shouldn’t yell at them.

  Thrashing around only made Mom increase her force.

  Dad got earbuds from his messenger bag and jammed them into the laptop. The music faded to barely audible. It stopped as Dad used the inline earphone controller to stop the playback.

  The brain itch stopped.

  I slumped to the side, and Mom shifted to a lighter hold.

  “It’s okay,” Mom said. “I’ve got you.”

  “I don’t understand. Nothing happened when I played that yesterday. The security alerts went off and that was it. That was worse than hearing it on the TV.”

  Dad shot a concerned look at me and then at Mom.

  “How’s that possible?” Mom asked. “How has the file changed just sitting on your laptop.”

  She was right. It didn’t make sense. No one had access to my laptop to plant a new file. I could see from the file info it was the same one. I accessed the internet through the Glenwood corporate network yesterday. Did that make a difference? It’s the only thing I could think of that was different than yesterday.

  Was that it? Could the file be manipulated through the internet? I was on our Wi-Fi hotspot. But what would be gained by activating the song to provoke violence only if the device was online?

  “And you guys heard nothing out of the ordinary? Felt nothing?” They shook their heads.

  “We heard the song and the alerts,” Mom said.

  “I want to do another test. I need those noise-canceling headphones. It’s fascinating….” I paused to think. “While memory wasn’t an issue, focus and concentration proved difficult. The desire to lash out happens so fast. Once it’s over, though—” I made a whooshing sound. “—I’m spent.”

  Dad got the headphones from the couch where I’d laid them when we came in.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this now?” Mom asked. “You can just tell Lorenzo what to do.” Even while she spoke, I retrieved the laptop to set up the experiment.

  “There’s no guarantee the conditions will be the same. It’s a fairly safe bet that if I start that song over, the same thing will happen. The headphones will block it.”

  I turned on the noise-canceling function and slipped on the headphones.

  “Can you guys say something?”

  I barely heard myself. Mom and Dad’s mouths moved, but I heard nothing.

  “I’m gonna start the song over. If I start to freak at all, stop it. I’ll try not to throw things this time.” I smirked because the mood needed to be lightened. They gave a thumbs-up.

  My finger hovered over the Play key, but I was hesitant to push it. The headphones seemed safe, but I was unsure. I bought a few moments while I opened up some analysis programs.

  When I had everything set, I took a deep breath and pushed Play. The output meters showed music was playing but, thankfully, I heard and felt nothing. Dad stood by, though, ready to stop the playback.

  Using the audio analyzer that I had added to my tools after Danny had demonstrated it yesterday, I compared the snapshot from yesterday and saw that the music was the same. However, the flat line was now larger. I let the song play to completion, so I’d have a complete look at it.

  After the song played out, it was time to test a theory. Was it changed if the device was on the internet?

  I took the laptop offline, reset the analyzer and pushed Play again. The audio pattern looked exactly like it did yesterday.

  “I think I’ve figured it out, but I need to know for sure.” I hoped I’d found the answer so I didn’t have to feel the rage all over again. “Take the laptop. I’m removing the headphones. Be ready to stop the music.”

  Once Dad had the laptop, I raised my hands and removed the headphones slowly.

  I heard the song.

  There was no effect.

  “You okay?” Mom asked, watching closely.

  I nodded and set the headphones on the table. “So far.” I gave it a minute just to make sure. “Totally normal. Start it over, please.”

  The start of the song had triggered me the last time. It was possible that whatever made me lose it was only in the beginning of the track. Dad did as I asked, and I was okay.


  “This is weird, but it appears the file receives instructions from the internet.”

  “That’s unbelievable. And scary.” Mom sat down.

  I nodded. “I’ll update Lorenzo. We have to figure out where that signal’s coming from and stop it.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  ONCE I’D figured out the audio file got instructions from the internet, I spent the rest of the day on video conferences. A few brave souls at TOS HQ volunteered to be tested to see if the file affected them.

  We also recovered the file from Atlanta, and it matched the one I had from the MDS. Since radio stations have different needs, they don’t use the preview websites. In this case, the event’s DJ transferred the song to the device the day before, so it was ready to go. That meant, however, the song didn’t get updated. Making matters worse, the device was online so there was no stopping the violence-inducing signal.

  We also confirmed the playback device had its data transmitted. Luckily it wasn’t a personal phone, so all that was stolen were a few phone numbers. The code circumvented all of the antivirus protections. The phone had solid, consumer security in place, and it didn’t protect the phone at all. Lorenzo activated another team to look at that, so we could help antivirus companies issue patches.

  There were more reports of violence as well, which were tied to people hearing the song as the reports about Atlanta aired on TV and cell phone video went up on social media. TOS and other agencies continued to scrub the song audio anywhere it cropped up. Doing that under the guise of the ongoing investigation got trickier, though. Any sign of a cover-up would only make controlling the story worse.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Lorenzo said. “Not outside of the movies anyway. Any luck tracing what activates the audio signal?”

  After several hours my team had nothing concrete. The code behind this was a very clever design. “So far, traces and blocks have failed.”

  “We’ve replicated the effects. The common factor is that it impacts people who can perceive sound at a particular low-level frequency, and it’s devastating if they’re exposed to it for more than a couple seconds. The longer they hear it, the more agitated they become.”

  “I don’t think I’d heard it for more than thirty seconds at a time, and it was awful.”

  “They don’t hear it so much as feel it,” Lorenzo continued. “While only eighteen people were affected in Atlanta, once the fight broke out, it didn’t really matter who had been affected and who hadn’t. Crowd mentality took over and, except for the few people who got out of there right away, almost everyone ended up fighting.”

  “Anyone reporting memory issues after being exposed to it?”

  “I was just about to bring that up. You and everyone in Atlanta reported memory issues in the immediate aftermath. But in the tests we’ve run since then, memory is intact. Subjects are just exhausted.”

  “Same for me. Doesn’t seem like that’s a fluke. So not only is it controlled through the internet, its effects can be modified. Can you imagine if the signal went out at a major event? The Super Bowl or something else?”

  “I can’t— Sorry, one moment.” He didn’t put me on hold for long. “Stand by while I patch us into a call with Defender, Snowbird, Red Hat, and Raptor.”

  I shuddered at what could’ve happened that had Raptor on the call with us. As head of TOS, his presence was not standard protocol.

  “I’ll get right to it,” Raptor said once Lorenzo connected us. “Blackbird is behind what’s happening with Glenwood Music. Twenty-five minutes ago, we heard from an agent we’ve had embedded with Blackbird for the past year. Overture stumbled on the information in discussion with other Blackbird operatives.”

  Blackbird. We’d done damage to their organization in Denver last fall, but apparently not enough. I knew from briefings I received that TOS constantly monitored Blackbird for potential threats. Of course, some of that was above my clearance level, such as knowing we had someone embedded with them.

  “Overture verified what we’ve already pieced together about the two actions the files carry out. His message was interrupted before he could tell us more, and we don’t know his present condition. We’re taking the steps to get in touch with him. His chip indicates he’s in Riverhead, New York. This situation is different from what he was involved with, which related to disrupting the World Bank. It’s not clear if there’s a connection.”

  And there it was—the culprit revealed. We still had to figure out how to stop them before a mass number of songs were released, either from Glenwood or some other source.

  “There are indications this has been in the works for a few months. I had Telegraph look into a few things in our code repository,” Red Hat said. “Winger, remember those strange alerts you got on your phone earlier this year, and we never could figure out what those were.”

  Those started around the time of the computer science competition—some incidents when Eddie was around and others that were random. It’d happened nine times over five weeks. I always logged the data into the TOS database for analysis, but the findings were always inconclusive.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “There’s a similarity in the carrier waves. Perhaps those earlier incidents were tests. Plus we found it in other log reports from phones around the world. Taken separately it seems random and nothing ties them together individually, but now the connections are plain.”

  “What I don’t understand is the tie between these signals and the kidnapping threats against the Glenwood’s that brought us here in the first place.” Dad voiced the question I’d already wondered about.

  “We hoped you might have figured that out,” Raptor said. “We agree it’s not clear. They obviously wanted access to the distribution system, but that had to have been in progress before you arrived.”

  “Maybe the attempted abductions were just a smokescreen.” Mom offered her opinion.

  “Perhaps,” Raptor continued. “Defender and Snowbird, you reported that the Glenwoods would shut down their distribution system. Has that happened?”

  “Yes,” Mom said. “It went into maintenance mode within an hour after the Atlanta news broke. They also put on hold the company’s releases for this week. The only channel that’s left open is the streaming service they control and their team has made sure no infected tracks are present. Access to that system is currently restricted to only Oliver Glenwood.”

  “Winger,” Lorenzo chimed in, “can you verify that the security is good enough they shouldn’t be able to be infiltrated from the outside.”

  “That’s correct. My attacks from outside were repeatedly shut down. Like anything, if you work long enough, you’ll probably find a way in, but they are buttoned up tight.”

  “Okay,” Raptor said. “I’d like reports at least every four hours and more if you think it’s worthy. The most important objective is finding where the signals causing the violence come from and shut it down.”

  “Understood.” We all acknowledged.

  “Thank you all. Raptor signing off.”

  “Winger, I need to update some teams,” Lorenzo said. “I’ll be back in touch with you later. Doctor Possible out.”

  “Snowbird and Defender, I’ll see you when you’re back at base. Winger out.”

  I disconnected and joined a call with Split Screen and the others working on tracing the incoming and outgoing signals from the song files.

  Chapter Nineteen

  THE TEAM and I worked through the afternoon trying to figure out how to break down the files we had to uncover how instructions were received.

  Another team worked to trace the theft of the personal data from devices. We had the devices mimicking different areas of the country so our activity wouldn’t be obvious. Blackbird, however, knew exactly what it was doing when it designed the program, making it almost impossible to track its actual source.

  The situation bounced between maddening and fascinating. To assemble something like this and
be able to bury it in the way Blackbird had showed extraordinary skill.

  I was rarely so frustrated with myself as I’d been in the last few hours. Even when I can’t accomplish the goal, I usually have an idea of where to start. Nothing I did moved us closer to an effective way to stop this. Yes, my colleagues had the same problem and that only made it worse because none of us had progress to report.

  As I ran my analysis programs, with what felt like the thousandth modification, my phone buzzed and a text from Eddie displayed.

  Coming back from the studio with Sofia. She’s picking up some dinner. Can I bring us some too?

  I looked at the clock in the upper-right corner of the monitor. It was nearly seven. Despite the windows in front of me, I hadn’t paid attention to how far the sun had moved across the sky, now casting long shadows.

  I could afford a few minutes with Eddie to have dinner.

  I texted back: That’d be awesome. I could use some us time.

  The response came quickly: Cool. See you soon.

  Perfect timing. My stomach rumbled right after I read his messages. A reminder I hadn’t eaten since Christian brought lunch hours ago.

  My phone lit up again, this time with an incoming call from Lorenzo.

  “Winger, Doctor Possible here. Ghostlight is also here.” Ghostlight was new to the team, and I hadn’t met her in person because she worked in Seattle. Her specialties were far-reaching, and she already had a good reputation. She was part of the team tracing where the stolen data was going.

  “Well, I hope one of you has good news because I feel like I’m banging my head against a brick wall.”

  “We may have some progress.” Lorenzo actually sounded upbeat. “Ghostlight, do you want to go over what you just showed me?”

  “Absolutely.” She sounded eager, which I liked since it helped knock out some of my frustration. “Winger, I sent data to your screen.”

  The hazard of not bringing more than one laptop was that I had only the single screen. It was annoying in moments like when I wanted to display multiple things simultaneously.