by S. P. Perone
“I know that,” Tony said quickly. “But I think she’s doing this deliberately to piss me off. She knows I’ve had some big issues with Clarkson in the Department, and she’s using that knowledge to needle me.”
“Tony. Tony,” Harry interjected to cut him off, “listen to yourself. You’re talking like a damn teen-ager. What’s going on here?”
Pausing for a few moments, Tony calmed down and collected his thoughts. “Harry,” he began, “you’re right. I really do sound immature. I don’t even know myself what’s got into me.” After a few moments of silence between them, he continued, “I know I’m concerned about two things.”
With his right thumb he indicated the first concern. “Number one is that I’m afraid that this whole affair has destroyed the professional relationship I should have with my postdoctoral associate.”
Then, unfolding the index finger on his right hand, he continued, “Number two, I’m afraid I may have really hurt Sarah when I decided to break up. I think she misled me into thinking she felt as pessimistic as I did about our future.”
Slowly, Harry added, “Aren’t you forgetting number three?”
“What’s that,” Tony asked, with a puzzled look on his face.
“Number three is that you’ve discovered you’re very much in love with her, always have been, and you’re afraid you’ve made a horrible mistake. That’s what number three is. And those other two fingers don’t mean a damn thing, Buddy…not a damn thing. You can tuck those two back, and the third finger is the only sign you need to describe what I think about your whole attitude.”
The look on Tony’s face described his feelings better than any words. Harry’s comments were like a bolt of lightening charging through his body…opening up his brain cells so that he could see things clearly. After staring blankly through Harry and into the bookcase for several long moments, he finally said, “My God…you’re right…I really have been a jerk.” Looking down, and shaking his head, he broke off again. Finally, he looked up and said, “Harry, what am I gonna do to make this right?”
Tony wasn’t expecting an answer. Suddenly, he felt very, very tired. Before Harry could say anything, he stood up and said, “I’m really thirsty. How would you like a Coke? I need to take a break.”
“Yeah. I’ll take a diet Coke. Would you mind bringing one back for me? I ought to give Luci a call.”
Harry brought out three quarters from his side pocket and gave it to Shane for his refreshments. Tony opened the door and left to retrieve the Cokes from the vending machine down at the end of the main hallway. It would be a nice long walk, and he needed the fresh air. Harry gently closed the door as he picked up the phone. The guard outside continued his intense examination of the latest Sports Illustrated magazine.
When Tony returned with the Cokes, Harry was standing up looking through one of the Ph.D. theses from one of Tony’s former students that was on a bookshelf behind the chair he had been sitting in. “God, this language is all Greek to me,” he said as he closed the thesis and returned it to the shelf. “You guys have a vocabulary straight out of Star Trek.”
With a brief grunt of a smile, Tony handed Harry his diet Coke, and they both sat back down as if to resume their conversation. But, instead, they remained quiet and reflective for several seconds, slowly sipping on their drinks.
Finally, Harry broke the silence. “You know what I think’s going on here?”
Not speaking, Tony’s eyes looked questioningly at Harry, clearly oblivious to what he might say next.
“This is what’s going on,” Harry continued. “I know Sarah. She would never do anything to deliberately hurt you…or anybody. And you know that too. You’re just too blinded by your emotions right now to think clearly.”
“Tell me,” Harry went on, “what do you mean when you say Sarah’sdating Clarkson?”
Tony described what he had learned from Bill Campbell, and from Sarah, earlier that day. Harry slouched down in the chair and put his huge hands across his belly, making a steeple with his fingers that pointed directly at Shane. “That information you just gave me confirms what I was thinking. Sarah must have been coerced into inviting Clarkson tothe House for the party this Saturday. My guess is that this creep has been bugging her for a date, and this was an easy way to get him off her back. Knowing Clarkson, and the way he operates, he probably found out about you and Sarah a long time ago, and also found out when you broke up. You know how hard he worked to try and prevent your getting the DOE contract involving classified work here at the university. He probably sees this as an opportunity to get some inside information, and use it to shut you down.”
Shane sat motionless in his chair, one arm resting on his desk, the other curled behind his head. He was trying to digest all that Harry had said. He knew it was all just speculation. But, darn it, Harry was a shrewd political animal…something that Shane was not, not by a long shot. Not that he ever would, but Harry was capable of carrying out a calculated departmentalcoup that might require all kinds of crafty manipulations. He knew people’s weaknesses, remembered all their moves, and knew where all the bodies were buried. Shane knew this from their occasional conversations that touched on university politics. Harry had insight like a chess player. He knew how to think five or six moves ahead in his dealings with people. The thing that distinguished him from Clarkson was that Harry’s political ambitions were never for personal gain. He was altruistic in his motivation, and was highly respected by his peers.
Weighing these factors, Shane concluded that perhaps Harry was dead right. And if that were so, Shane had indeed acted like a fool…not once but twice. First, when he broke up with the woman he loved. And, second, when he misinterpreted her relationship with Clarkson. And then there was one more thing. If Harry was right, Clarkson was up to no good. He was trying to use Sarah, in some way, to bring misfortune to Shane’s program. It was suddenly very clear to him what he had to do.
But, what if he had already burned his bridges?
He turned his attention back to Harry, and said, “Harry, you may be right on. And, if so, I’ve got my work cut out for me.” Pausing for a moment, Shane then went on, “I really need to think this whole thing over.”
Harry took these last words as a dismissal. He straightened up in his chair, and began shuffling his feet as if to leave. He lifted the diet Coke to his lips and drained it; then, he stood up and stretched. “It’s getting late, Tony. I better get going.”
Without a word, Tony stood up. Looking straight into Harry’s eyes, he said, “I can’t thank you enough for stopping by tonight, big guy. You’ve been a lifesaver. Please give my love to Luci, and tell her I’m sorry for keeping you out so late. Tell her I’ll make it up to her.”
“Not a problem, Buddy. We know you’d do the same for us. Take care, and don’t stay here too late.”
With that, Harry slapped Tony on the shoulder, opened the door and loped down the corridor to the hallway. He was on his way home to Luci.
Shane looked at his watch. It was after nine o’clock. He didn’t think he could get any more work done this night. He called the guard in so they could lock the vault and he could leave. But, just as the guard entered the office, the phone began to ring. He picked it up, and gave his usual greeting, “Tony Shane’s office.”
“Tony. It’s Senator Moorhouse. Looks like you’re working late tonight.”
Snapping out of his reverie, Tony realized that it was getting late, and he needed to decide on whether to contact Sarah and Bill tonight, or put it off until tomorrow. A quick glance at the clock above his desk answered the question for him. It was nearly ten o’clock, and he wouldn’t call either of them at this late hour. If Bill were still working in the lab, Tony would stop by and talk to him. If not, it would have to wait until tomorrow.
Leaving his office, Tony walked around the outer office that Sandy would occupy again tomorrow morning and pushed open the door to one of his big “labs.” These were large rooms that had been converted
from physics research labs to computer science research space. Although there were no physical science experiments going on in these locations anymore, they were still referred to as “labs.” Now, they looked more like the command station of Starship Enterprise, with all sizes and shapes of video displays, computer modules, keyboards, and other kinds of interactive hardware devices spread throughout the room. Several small cubicles with desks and computer stations were sprinkled around for use by Shane’s collection of research students. Over in the far corner, a solitary figure was still working. It was Bill Campbell, pounding away on his keyboard, probably working on the first draft of his Ph.D. thesis.
As no one else was around, Shane walked over and pulled up a chair next to Bill’s cubicle. “How’s it going, Bill?” Shane inquired. “Working on your thesis?”
Bill stopped his typing, and looked over at Shane. “Hi, Doc. Yeah, I’m blocking out an outline for you to take a look at.” As he clicked on the menu items to save his document, he continued, “What’s keeping you here so late tonight?”
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Shane replied. “You know how Senator Moorhouse is our contact for the classified part of the DOE research contract. He called me tonight about expanding the scope of that part of the project. Up until now, only the principal investigators at the three cooperating universities were cleared to work on the classified issues. But, now, the Senator would like for us to bring in some additional help. And, actually, I’m here to see if you might be interested.”
Tony paused to let Bill digest what he had just said. This was a big decision. And Bill was handicapped in his decision by not knowing all the implications of agreeing to get involved. Tony simply couldn’t give him any details until a security clearance had been obtained. So, he decided to do the next best thing.
Without waiting for Bill to respond, Tony went on, “I can’t tell you what the classified work is about, Bill. But, I think you’re bright enough to figure out why the feds would be so interested in the kind of artificial intelligence tools you and Sarah and I have been developing. You know we’ve been using condensed databases documenting global human activities to test out our tools. If you put two and two together, you might figure out where they’d like to go with this technology. And you’d be right.”
“The thing is,” Shane continued, “I want you to know that, once you agree to go forward with this work, there’s no turning back. You will become aware of certain top secret information that will forever put boundaries on what you can say or do, or where you can travel safely, and even more.” Pausing again for Bill’s sake, Tony then said, “Please think it over carefully before deciding.”
Bill remained quiet for what seemed like an hour. And Shane waited patiently, not saying a word. Finally, Bill said, “You paint a pretty grim picture, Doc…I have to wonder what is theup side ?”
Taking a deep breath, Tony switched gears, morphing into the salesman mode. “Theup side is that, first of all, you will be working on something that will be directly related to national security. I can’t tell you how exciting and gratifying that can be. Academic research is so sanitary and bland; the rush of dealing with issues that are literally life and death will blow you away. Secondly, you will be exposed to absolutely the latest word in computer technology…things you would drool over if I could tell you about them. And, finally, you will establish contacts with other scientists within DOE that will benefit you professionally down the road when you try to set up your own research program somewhere.”
Tony paused, waiting again for Bill to digest. He worried that he might be overloading Bill, but it couldn’t be helped. Decisions needed to be made quickly, and he decided to share that bit of information also with him. “There’s one more thing to throw into the pot. Well, atleast one more thing. I’ll think of more as we go along, I’m sure. But one thing is you would have to go with me to the meeting in San Francisco next week. And, you might have to stay there for a while to help solve some problems, that I can’t be specific about now. That would clearly interfere with your plans to begin preparing your thesis, and would ultimately affect your job searching and graduation date. The only good news is that I’m sure you would be well paid for this time and effort.”
Now Bill was definitely on overload. He just stared blankly back through Shane. He was not smiling.
“Doc, can I think this over? I mean, overnight? It sounds like you need an answer right away, so I won’t take any longer than that. Is that OK?”
Shane looked at Bill, a feeling of guilt weighing heavily on his heart. He had never wanted to get any of his students involved in these things. He was almost ready to tell Bill to forget about it, when he reminded himself of the mysterious terrorist threat that had prompted the Senator to shift the StarSight project into the panic mode. He knew that the personal inconvenience of a few people was insignificant compared to the potential threat to perhaps millions of innocent unsuspecting victims in this country. So, he remained silent, simply nodding his head, and getting up from the chair.
As he turned to leave, Tony said, “OK, Bill. Let’s talk again tomorrow morning. Sleep on it tonight, and we’ll see how you feel.”
Then, as an afterthought, he added, “I should also tell you that I’m going to ask Sarah to work on the classified project.” He paused, anticipating some response from Bill. He was not disappointed.
“Wow,” he whistled softly. “Boy, Doc, I don’t envy you trying to present this to her now.” Bill didn’t know the half of it, but he was aware of the tension between Tony and Sarah that had lingered for this past month. “But, if she’s willing to do it, and I decide to go along, I know we can work well together.”
“Thanks, Bill,” Tony smiled, “I’m really glad to hear that.”
“Look, it’s getting late, and I need to leave you alone,” he continued. “I’m getting out of here and going home. See ya tomorrow!”
And with that, Tony walked out of the lab, picked up his jacket and headed out of the building. He wondered how he was going to talk to Sarah tomorrow.
Chapter 6
Max Intervenes
After Andie left Max’s office late Tuesday afternoon, Max had gone over and closed the door again, not quite all the way, and then had returned to his desk and brought up the MaxWare package to continue his surveillance of Tony Shane’s computer. He hadn’t seen anything new earlier, but figured it was about time for Shane to return from his Tuesday lecture and get back on-line. Finding Shane’s computer still idle, Max switched back to his company computer system and used the time to pull together the graphical summaries of his studies of the SpyraNet system’s degree of invisibility to the targeted user. It washis studies that had demonstrated clearly that SpyraNet could carry out all its operations, extracting either real-time or archived information, without slowing down the remote computer system at all. Even knowing how the SpyraNet system worked, Max could not find a trace of its having intruded a computer station. These results should really get the marketing types to cream their jeans. If they were dickering with the FBI or CIA, they would be able to get whatever they wanted for this system.
After working on the CryptaGen business for a while, Max again switched back to the MaxWarealter ego of his computer workstation. Bringing up again his surveillance of Shane’s system, he was delighted to find that Shane was now on-line. Setting MaxWare to record the complete sequence of operations that occurred, he turned his attention to accessing the data files and the latest version of the neural network tools that Shane was using. From past experience, he had concluded that he could not, without the key to the data transformations, make any sense out of the data files. When he had been able to snatch portions of the raw data files from Sharon Carson’s or Barry Nagle’s computers, he discovered that the hundreds of gigabytes of data were just numbers. No text was associated with the files to tell him where they had come from. Without that information, he was flying blind.
As the data files bei
ng used by Shane were downloaded, Max observed that they were the same files Shane had been working with for the past couple weeks. Then, looking at the neural network software being used, he realized that this was the latest version of their self-organizing network software, programmed by Sarah Stenstrom and Bill Campbell. This was good. He needed to have the latest version. Unfortunately for Max, he was not an expert in this area, and he could only observe the sequence of initializing parameters that Shane would select for each successive run, and look at the clusters identified, without a clue as to what it all meant. Again, he needed the key to the cluster identities that was probably only available in Shane’s mind and in his classified research notebook.
Frustrated at the meager amount of new information he was getting, Max consoled himself that he had recently been provided with a new weapon for getting access to the secret data. He had needed to ask the Bear for some information that even Max could not have obtained, and the Bear had delivered. Max had been able to put his new weapon in place with the help of Bear’s information. He had already gotten some secret data, but he had not gotten the database keys that he needed. Hopefully, that would be coming soon.
Still, the more he learned about the StarSight system, the more Max realized it would not work without the oversight of a human expert in grooming and interpreting neural network responses. The implications of this conclusion had begun to dawn on Max. He was a hacker and a sophisticated high tech spy, but he had never had to get “physical” in his work. Nevertheless, the vision of what he might have to do actually excited him. In fact, he knew, from past episodes in his personal life, that he could do it. It was absolutely necessary, and the Bear, or whomever he worked for, would only deliver the rest of the 10 million dollars when Max delivered the complete working StarSight package. Unfortunately, that package might have to include one talented human being.
