Flee or Kill: The Future Of Reality TV (Future Forward Book 2)
Page 4
Another screen changed to show the prancing Jake flexing his muscles.
"Sir, I have a senior tech student well outside of norms as he's singing and strutting his stuff. Damn, that kid can't dance worth shit. Hope he's really good with programming. But nothing here."
There were more than a few sniggering laughs as the techs glanced at Jake. Given few of them were much better at dancing, they held their comments in check.
The image of Jake mercifully faded and server code resumed scrolling on the big screen.
"People, we don't have biometrics and we don't have the user. What are the logs showing?" Palmer's voice sounded firm and in control.
All screens faded and then refocused on scrolling log files. Streams of code flew upwards on all screens and most stopped to look.
"Sir, I have a list of where it appeared or will appear, most haven't opened the message yet, Set to run five hundred times and apparently at random. I can identify the data on the receiver's system, but when I backtrace the images on the server logs, they no longer exist," said Junior Lieutenant Chambers.
"The servers don't show any existence at all. No traffic pattern. Ever. There's simply no information where it should be. This is impossible. We know it happened but we have no record of it. The program has erased that data as well. And yes Sir, that includes the instant backup systems," he added.
Shit, how did he do that? Now I'm fokked, how do I tell the Secretary? thought Palmer.
"It's as if the programmer dropped a rock into a pond and there's no ripple. None to track or trace. This guy is very, very good. Without those logs, we can't find him, " added Chambers. "Sir, with respect, this looks like it was done for the lulz. Nobody with a serious problem would spend their time on this. But I've never heard of any code that would erase server logs. Have you?"
The entire Team stopped, watched for his reaction.
Palmer stopped pacing, shook his head. He looked at his Team, then Chambers, and knew they were all thinking the same thing. They'd all love to see this code and talk to whoever was good enough to create it. It was near-genius programming. No, he thought, it was genius programming and well above anything I can do. But I'm not going to say that to Carpenter. He'd have me running next.
Pointing at a tech at the far side of the room, "Put those five-hundred people who saw it on a watch list. No, not the Secretary, you idiot," Palmer said to the tech who started to speak after the order.
Deciding the cost was justified and looking for any solution that might present itself, Palmer turned to the Junior Lieutenant, "Mr. Chambers, run a full central pattern generator scan of all computer students and staff."
"With respect, Sir. Budget?" said Chambers.
"That's the least of our concerns right now Chambers. If we have a senior programmer gone rogue, we need to know about it, and we need to contain any potential damage. Quickly," said Palmer.
One half of the room's screens faded from log files to scrolling results from the scan. Both Chambers and Palmer scanned the results as they flowed upwards.
"Sir, the entertainment area is a problem for this large-scale sweep. There are too many sexual thoughts in that district at the moment and these internal pictures are overwhelming and skewing the data across the rest of the city," said Chambers.
"Isolate individuals out of the entertainment district. Do it now. Flag those inside and do a scan when they come out," said Palmer.
Chambers turned to one of his squad, pointed at him and the tech began changing parameters in a frenetic intermingling of keyboard and arm motions.
"Done. Negative results, Sir. Those outside are not showing any relationship to the hack. We'll have to wait to see what scanning those inside generates."
"Shit, people. That's it. We have nothing. Nothing at all?" Palmer sagged back against the wall. "Fok!"
The others stood motionless, looking at the floor.
He met Chamber's eyes and Chamber shrugged.
"Fok."
19/05/2167 13:00
Captain Fraser knew the Lieutenant tended to arrive from the west straight down Savannah Avenue, so he stood under a protective rain awning listening to the rain drum down onto the cloth. It was an impressive amount of noise, enough to mask any voice signals from listening recorders.
He saw Palmer walking toward him, skipping quickly through the rainy sections between awnings and grinned. The Lieutenant didn't move very smoothly but he was fast enough when he had to decide whether to get wet or stay dry. Dry being a relative term he noted to himself. When the young officer was protected by the same awning and approaching him, Fraser pulled his hat brim back to show his face and made eye contact with the young computer wizard.
"Mr. Palmer. Wet enough for you?" he asked with a big grin.
"Yes, Sir, it is indeed," Palmer said. "Can I help you, Sir?"
"I have a tech question for you and I wonder if we might share a few moments?"
"I'd be pleased to meet with you tomorrow at your convenience, Sir," said Palmer.
"I'd rather avoid the office if possible. How about a few minutes right now?" Fraser and stopped at a spot between windows but still, he turned his body slightly away from the reflective surface of the window and the ever-present indoor camera to face the opposite side of the street. Crossing his arms, his right arm reached under his left to gently grab Palmer's arm and turn him in the same direction. He knew between the hats, the dark night and curtain of rain between themselves and the camera across the street, they'd likely be unnoticed in any replays or software searches.
"Yes, Sir. Whatever you like. What can I do for you?" said Palmer. He allowed the senior officer to turn him and smiled when he realized what the Captain had just done. He's not a rookie at avoiding detection he thought to himself. Palmer nodded his acceptance of the move, but wasn't sure whether the Captain had noticed or not.
The Captain had. "I wanted to congratulate you on your latest pay raise."
Palmer grinned and said, "Yes, it was rather generous wasn't it. It's not big enough to trigger any alarms, and it's well within normal error ranges. I trust you're equally pleased."
"Yes, indeed. It seems I'm having an incredible run of luck on the gaming machines and winning quite handsomely. Enough to even have to declare it on my taxes. Who would have thought I'd be that lucky?" said Fraser.
They made eye contact and nodded.
"You've done well with creating those computer hacks. Is it time for our next step?" asked Fraser.
"Well, I'm not sure about that. Once we take that, there's no turning back and it will either be us or Carpenter," said Palmer. He shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet.
"Relax."
The young tech officer took a deep breath and stood still. "Thanks."
"No problem, we all need reminding about our biometrics every now and then," said Fraser.
"Here's my thinking. You've already started 'adjusting' some computer variables so we're either in all the way or we're out all the way. And you've talked to some of your, shall we say, hidden friends with funny masks. We talked about this. We have the basic systems penetrated, and it's working nicely I note. Now, we either have to move forward or backward. So we can walk away and quit, go back to being passive, or we can move forward and take on Carpenter. You know you have the tools to give us the server-side, you have other folks who will help, and I'm the sharp end of the stick to make it happen," said Fraser.
Palmer nodded.
A loud, sharp snap, sizzle and glaringly, bright light lit up the street. Both men jumped, heartbeats and biosigns soaring, as the following thunder bounced off the buildings reverberating as it followed the wind.
"Fok," said Fraser. "That was a close one."
Palmer took a deep breath, "I don't think I'm cut out for this stuff." He looked directly at the Captain. "You're standing there as if nothing happened and I'm likely sending WTF biosigns all over the network. I'm calling it a night. I really don't want to take on Carpenter. He'll run us
if he finds out."
Fraser nodded. "Got it. Yeah, I understand. But here's the thing. You've already taken the first steps and there's no going back. Confess? You tell Carpenter you've hacked the system to give us both extra money, you're done. You rolled the dice and now we're in the game until the end."
The young Lieutenant met his eyes. Took a deep breath. Thought for ten long seconds, then nodded and said "Let me see what I can do." Then he turned and walked away.
19/05/2167 13:21:00
It wasn't much of a memorial service Jake decided but then again, how could he have expected anything different. His dad wasn't religious and his mother was long dead. Jake didn't remember her at all. His dad and he had one of those typical father-son relationships where they were a bit too much alike; in many ways it was like having two bulls in the same paddock. Where they might have differed was with their attitude to people. His father wasn't interested in hanging out with friends or sitting in a pub. Indeed, Jake thought, he just didn't like people. Jake too avoided big parties, but unlike his loner father had a few really good friends.
He hadn't seen the old man very much in the last year. Jake was busy at school and his dad was so deep into advanced programming they didn't have much to talk about. He'd just assumed the old guy would always be around. Neither was inclined to chat about trivial crap so they'd both let those few important moments slide by. Perhaps if his mother had lived, things would have been different. Who knew though, who could really know?
He'd been at his dad's bedside at the end when his dad had a moment of lucidity. The nurses said it was a common thing, this last-minute grasp for life, and his dad took Jake's hand into his own wasted one and squeezed it, holding onto both Jake and life until his final breath. Jake was having trouble seeing, his eyes misted over and tears ran down his cheeks as the memories crowded in. He surprised himself with the crying, he didn't think he'd feel quite this bad, this lonely, so very deeply.
There wasn't much, but the will was clear; it was all his. Maintenance fees, added duties and taxes were paid and there was a little cash in the bank, not much more than the cost of the cremation. Certainly there wasn't enough for a real burial. Nobody he knew could afford that level of life or death for sure.
He did note his dad had an outside window and even that bit of sunlight looking directly at another gray concrete building took more money than Jake spent in a year. Jake resembled his whip-thin mother and not his stocky father so none of the clothes would fit him. In any case, he wouldn't wear that old-guy crap. When he looked at the cooking wall he laughed, kitchen utensils were unnecessary when you were young and didn't cook.
Everything he saw was worse than what he himself had and he wondered what his father bought with whatever money he earned.
He pushed the button to release the wall-bed. A pair of women's panties was tucked under one pillow. Images of his father, naked in bed with a woman rolled up across mind to be shut away with a small shudder. That was an image he never wanted to think about he decided as he sent the bed back up into the wall.
He pulled down and engaged the communications station from a wall cluttered with old framed photographs of him and his mother; central servers would grant him full access now the death and inheritance taxes were both registered and paid. And it was instantly clear where his father spent his money. Every bit of equipment was the latest and best available and far outstripped anything Jake owned. Jake was delighted and started fantasizing about how much faster and better his own systems would be once he'd integrated and registered these.
A single word, "On," and the machine paused for a nano-second to scan and check his biometrics with central servers before giving him full access to his father's life.
The large wall screen flared for a brief second, coming to life and then dying. Fokking equipment! he thought in the second between the death flare and the screen's lighting up again.
It lit up with a full-face 3-D video of his father speaking to him. "Jacob, this will play once and will be deleted. So pay attention now, it's important. This is secure and is masked from Security."
This got Jake's full attention. He took three steps back to get a better view of the wall screen.
"The machine scanned the room to ensure you were by yourself. You are. Server security is in place for this console. Take it home. The rest of your system will recognize it and respond. Do what it says. You'll understand a great deal after you do this and frankly, my son, with this you have a chance. Without it, you're well and truly fokked.
You are too gifted to be passed over by Security and you won't last very long within the Corporation. You'll make a mistake and then they'll own you or discard you when you're no longer useful. Trust me on that if you've never trusted anything else I've said. Being owned killed your mother. She was extremely talented but she was a woman, and Carpenter found her, abused her and the only way out was the top of that building. He killed her. I don't want that for you."
Jake stiffened in his chair. He didn't know this, he'd thought his mother just died and the doctors couldn't help her. Carpenter killed my mother. FOK, if I'd known that, the hack would've been totally different. Totally.
He stood up. Stalked back and forth, glancing at the screen and the now-silent face of his father. He refused to stand still, that would mean he'd have to deal with whatever was coming next. Jake wasn't sure he wanted to know.Tears streaming down his cheeks, he glanced at the screen, and it responded to his attention. Watched his father's face soften, and begin talking again. Jake knew that look, it meant the bad news was over. He didn't stop pacing but he did pay attention.
"You're a smart young man. You have a chance and this is the best way I know to give it to you. I'm sorry it's not much. I'm sure it doesn't seem like much right now to you. Indeed, it may not be enough but it's all I have to pass along. Please pay attention to these lessons. And that's all the space I want to give that.
But please understand, no matter how much our ups and downs, our talking or not talking, of being a good father or a good son, I want you understand how much I loved you. I do love you. You take care. I wish there was more time or we could have done this together. Ah shit! Just know this. I love you Jacob and you make me proud."
The 3-D image disappeared, the screen flashed rainbow colors, softened to a swirling grey and then to fully dark.
Fokking Carpenter killed my mother. Used her. Jake didn't know whether to laugh, cry or scream. Instead, his eyes blurring, tears streaming down his cheeks, he fell into a chair. Energy spent, he allowed the tears to fall and remembered the good times with his father.
He was in no hurry to get home, this was the last time he'd see his dad's place, the last time he'd smell him and see the myriad of small things like the old fashioned fountain pen his dad loved. Jake pushed aside the old food trays on his dad's desk, rummaged around through the junk to find the pen. Shoved it in his pocket. Found two bottles of ink behind an 18-inch wide model of the moon and put them into his carry-bag. Left the moon-globe, he'd never get there anyway. He spent another hour going through his dad's collection of useless stuff. He ignored a few antique books, who needed those now? Found a picture set, a quick flick showed it was full. He'd seen it once before but his father hadn't let him open or use it. Two thumb flicks and he saw a picture of two young people holding hands. He'd seen this picture of his parents only once before. He was curious and wanted to know all about her but his father refused to talk about her. Now he knew why. His eyes clouded up and he wiped the tears away. Fokking Carpenter.
His student loan didn't cover transport, so Jake lugged the equipment home. He disconnected his old console, plugged in his dad's, and stepped back. Nothing happened. The normal console activity lights never flickered. It was as if the console and peripherals were all dead.
"Fok, now the thing doesn't want to work. What a fokking day this is."
He started to move toward the console and his ear feed whispered, "Don't."
Don't? The consol
e isn't working, and it's telling me what to do. What the crap is this? he thought.
"Please calm yourself, be quiet. Do not talk or move. This process will be finished in 1.3 minutes. Your life depends on it," the whisper said.
What the fok? he thought.
His subsequent thoughts were neither kind, charitable nor printable. But he was a child of this machine-controlled age and did as the machine commanded. It was a long time to sit. But exactly 1.3 minutes later, the machine said, "Thank you. Your education will begin tomorrow morning. Your brain needs time to adjust to the new chip configurations after this software upgrade. Sleep now."
Jake crumpled to the floor and passed out.
19/05/2167 13:21:00
In other parts of the city, a different online conversation was underway. These few direct spiritual descendants of the hacker group Anonymous survived on their tech-skills in spite of the ever-advancing technology. Generation after generation of computer coders had passed along survival tips to make this possible and yet, there were only seven survivors left. Playing a cat-and-mouse-game with the hunter-tracker software and the Homeland Security coders, these "mice" were the last survivors, and the highest-skilled hackers the City had to offer.
<6t94whp>: And that would accomplish what? We put a big sign over our heads saying, "We're still here!" And tell Carpenter to come looking. He'll still wipe those runners whether we help or not."