by Robin Caroll
Sam set up the laptop on the coffee table, then stood and motioned to Makayla to sit the couch. “It’s all ready for you, milady.”
Sam hovered over her bestie and crossed her fingers.
This had to work. It just had to.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I’ll need to access the system remotely. Give me a second.” Makayla’s fingers flew over the laptop’s keys.
Dad sat back in his recliner while Sam inched to the edge of the couch. Chewy had curled back up on the rug and closed her eyes. Sam clasped her hands in her lap so she wouldn’t be tempted to tap her finger against the table. She didn’t want to do anything to distract Makayla from her probing.
“Okay, I’m connecting. Keep your fingers crossed that they didn’t put up a new security firewall before Christmas break.”
“Doubtful, otherwise the virus probably wouldn’t have infected the system,” Sam said as she bounced her knee.
“Not necessarily.” Makayla leaned closer to the monitor. “Doesn’t matter. I’m in.” She let out a slow breath. “Now let’s see if I can get into the grading system program.” Her fingers moved fast over the keys as she kept her eyes narrowed. Squinting.
Sam didn’t want to make a sound. She didn’t even swallow.
“That didn’t work. Let’s try this.” Makayla typed some more.
Dad met Sam’s stare, the question of what Makayla was trying now plain in his eyes. Sam shrugged. She didn’t have a clue, but had total faith in her best friend.
“Okay, that didn’t work. Hmm.” Makayla popped her lips. Again. And again. “How about this way?” She typed again. A pause. Then she growled. “I’m starting to take this personal.”
Only the tap-tap-tap of the keys sounded in the living room.
“If you can’t get in, that’s okay,” Dad offered.
Makayla’s eyes lit up. “It’s okay, Mr. Sanderson. I think I figured it out.”
Sam rocked beside Makayla. Please, please, please let her get in.
Makayla did an air punch. “Got it. Okay, now let’s see if I can get into the code itself. Let me see.” Makayla went from typing, to tapping her chin, then back to typing.
Sam and her dad remained silent.
“Ah, there you are. I found it.” Makayla smiled and her eyes went wide. She got as jazzed about this computer stuff as Sam got in finding a lead on an article. “I’m going to look at the code now.”
“Told you,” Sam mouthed to her dad. He grinned back at her.
“Interesting.” Makayla actually smiled at the computer screen.
“What?” Sam asked.
“There is a self-destruct file embedded, but it isn’t set to activate when the system attempts a restart from backup.”
Sam’s dad looked at her. She shrugged. “Oh, really?” she asked Makayla, because she didn’t know what else to say.
“Yeah. It’s here, but . . .” She made a few more keystrokes. “It’s set to self-destruct if the program starts a backup. That’s really weird.”
“Why is that?” Dad asked. “What’s the difference?”
“A restart from backup is just that, restarting the whole system from a backup. A program backup is when someone tries to copy the data of a particular program.” Makayla lifted her gaze from the computer. “Well, if I’m reading this right, and of course, I might be wrong. I could be wrong. I probably am. You should probably get someone else —”
“Mac!” Sam loved her bestie dearly, but sometimes . . .
“Okay.” Makayla cleared her throat and continued. “If what I think is right, then when this particular program is set to backup, the virus will self-destruct and remove itself from the system.”
“And the whole issue will be gone?” Sam asked.
Makayla nodded. “As if it wasn’t ever on the system.”
“So why hasn’t it uninstalled itself? Don’t the servers back up every night?” Sam asked.
“The servers do, with the basic data bits of information, but the programs have to be set to back up independently. As soon as the district’s IT team figured out there was a virus, they probably cut off the program from the regular system so as to not infect the rest of the system. A smart security measure. When they cut this program off, the backups were halted.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Dad ran his fingers through his hair again.
Makayla smiled. “Whoever did this didn’t intend for there to be permanent damage to the program or the system.”
“I see. I think.” Dad’s brow puckered.
Makayla made a clucking sound with her tongue.
“What is it?” Dad asked.
“I also found something else interesting,” Makayla said.
“What?” Sam asked.
“This virus was actually introduced into the system before we went on Christmas break, before the grades would be put in the program.” Makayla grinned over the monitor.
“What? Are you sure?”
Makayla nodded. “Positive. It was introduced right about the time school dismissed on the last Friday before break.”
“You can tell that by looking at the code?” Sam asked.
She nodded again. “Yep, it’s pretty easy once you know what you’re looking for. Want me to show you?”
Dad cleared his throat and nodded at the computer. “Did you find any of those identifiers you were talking about that could help us figure out who is responsible?”
“Oh. I haven’t looked yet.” She put her fingers on the keyboard, then lifted them again. “Sam, do you have a sixteen gig jump drive?”
“Sure. You need it?”
“Please. I’m going to try and copy the virus’ code onto a drive so we have a copy of the full virus code. This is a cool one, and should be studied. Analyzing viruses is the best way to learn how to create defenses against them.”
“I’ll get it.” Sam ran to her room and snagged a USB stick from the middle drawer of her desk. She didn’t know if she’d call any computer virus cool, but to each his own, she supposed. She returned and handed it to Makayla.
“Thanks.” Makayla stuck the drive in the USB port, typed for a few seconds, then sat straight. “There, it’s copying to the drive.” She let out a little sigh. “I was worried it might not copy, but there it is. It’s finished. All done.” She ejected the drive and removed the stick, then her eyes went wide. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, no, what?” Sam and her dad asked in unison.
“No, no, no!” Makayla pounded the keys.
“What?” Sam asked. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s going.”
“What?” Sam’s father asked. “What’s going?”
“The virus. It’s uninstalling itself.” She typed frantically. “Stop.” Makayla hit the keys harder. “Please, no. Come on. Quit.” She slumped back against the couch.
Tears welled in her eyes and she wore the most disappointed expression.
“What?” Sam asked.
“It’s gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean, gone?”
“Just what I said. Gone. It’s uninstalled. Poof.”
Sam knew Makayla was going to start crying any minute now. It wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Wait a minute,” Dad intervened. “Are you telling me the virus is out of the program and off the server?”
Makayla nodded. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Sanderson. I guess it had another self-destruct file that would be activated if the virus was copied. I didn’t see it, so I didn’t realize it would uninstall itself when I ejected the copy.”
“The virus is off the system, and you’re . . . apologizing?” He looked like he knew something Sam and Makayla didn’t.
“Oh my goodness, Makayla. No, this is great. You just removed a virus that has the entire school in a holding pattern, has your principal in a snit, has kept the district’s IT team guessing, and you’re apologizing? No need.” His voice was reassuring and confident.
Sam started laughing. “That is kinda funny, M
ac. We’ve been chasing our tails to figure out how to get rid of the virus without causing more damage, and you did just it.”
Makayla hesitated a moment, then began laughing too. “Okay, y’all got me. It’s just when I saw the uninstaller eating all the code, I panicked. I don’t know why.”
“How you managed to do this and the IT team didn’t is a little confusing,” Dad said.
“Told you she had ninja computer skills,” Sam said, grinning at her best friend.
“It’s not that,” Makayla said with a shake of her head. “IT has processes and procedures they have to follow. I don’t.” She grinned. “Especially when I panic.”
Sam laughed again, and Dad did as well.
Chewy, not sure what was going on but sensing something, sat up, her ears perked and alert.
“I wonder if the eschoolplus information is correct.” Sam pulled the laptop to her and logged on. It took a little longer than usual, but when she went to REPORT CARDS, her grades were correct: two Bs and the rest As. “Looks like it’s good here.”
“Well done, Makayla.” Dad beamed.
A few moments passed before Sam could think clearly. “I guess we need to let Mrs. Trees and the district know, huh?”
Dad stood and pulled out his cell. “I’ll notify the captain, but since school and district offices are closed, I doubt he can get in touch with anybody about this. Although, he might have your principal’s home phone number. She’s been all about solving this mystery. Then I need to head to the airport to pick up Mom. Travel will be really slow with the weather.” He moved into the kitchen, iPhone to his ear.
Sam turned the laptop and opened a blank blog document. The tapping sounded as she typed.
“What are you doing?” Makayla whispered so as to not interrupt Sam’s dad on the phone.
“I’m writing an article and getting it posted up.”
Makayla glanced at Sam’s dad’s back as he walked in the kitchen. “Is that okay with your dad? I mean, will he let you?”
“I don’t know, and I’m not asking.” Sam’s fingers typed as fast as her mind organized the article, which was surprisingly fast.
. . . That’s right, Senators, the virus has been removed from the system with no damage left. So during this snow day, if you want to know what your grades really are, check your eschoolplus account. Sound Off, Senators, and leave a comment of how you’re spending your snow day. ~ Sam Sanderson, reporting
Her father hung up his phone just as Sam pressed the SEND button.
“Did you get in touch with anybody?” she asked as he rejoined them. Maybe she could distract him so he wouldn’t ask her about what she was doing.
“I talked to Captain York and told him. He’s going to try and reach Mrs. Trees at home.” He nodded toward the computer. “What’s going on?”
“Hey, is that sleet I hear hitting the window?” Sam stood and moved to the window and peeked through the blinds. “It is. Look. It’s coming down pretty hard. Guess you need to get outta here so you don’t keep Mom waiting at the airport.” She pulled the cord to open the wood blinds.
Dad joined her at the window. “Looks like it’s been sleeting for some time. Good thing I put the snow chains on my tires this morning. I’m sure the airport’s a mess with all the delayed and canceled flights. But I don’t need to leave yet. Her plane hasn’t landed.” He tapped the glass, pointing at the cedar trees in the Hardens’ yard across the street. “Look at the trees leaning over from the weight of the ice.”
“I think they’re beautiful,” Makayla breathed as she joined them. “Everything looks so sharp and clear.”
“And deadly. Well, it can be.” Sam’s dad pointed at her. “Now, what were you two up to while I was on the phone?” He stepped into the foyer and lifted his coat from the hook.
“Nothing.” Sam stretched with her arms high above her head, then headed to stand in front of the fireplace. She sat on the hearth and stroked Chewy’s head. “At least Makayla was able to copy the virus’ code. I’m sure the cyber unit will want to analyze it to figure out who did it. They’re lucky you were smart enough to make a copy, Mac.” Sam smiled.
“Can I have a copy, Mr. Sanderson?” Makayla asked Sam’s dad. “I mean, after the cyber unit techs are done with it? I think my group could learn from it. That’s part of what our group does: learns how to break through virus code to learn how to disable them.”
“She can have a copy. Right, Dad?”
“I don’t know, Sam,” he said.
“Why not? It’s not like she’s going to set it loose somewhere. Her group is government funded, so it’s not like it’s just some group of computer nerds out there acting on their own.” She glanced at her bestie. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
Dad shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not right now. Not until the case is closed.”
Sam frowned. “We wouldn’t have it at all if she hadn’t copied it in the first place. What’s the harm in making a copy of a copy?”
“I’ll make sure you get a copy when the case is closed and we’re done with the copy.” Dad’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out and headed into the kitchen to take the call.
Sam ran to her room and grabbed another jump drive, then ran back to the living room. She put both jump drives into the computer and began copying the virus.
“What are you doing?” Makayla hissed.
“Just making sure you get a copy. Gotta hurry. That might be Mom.”
“Your dad said he’d get a copy back to me.”
“Unless the cyber unit messes it up.” The transfer was done. Sam ejected both drives and stuck one in her pocket.
“Your dad is going to flip,” Makayla whispered.
“He’ll never know. You aren’t going to do anything bad with it.” Sam shrugged. “Besides, you never know if we might need it.”
“For what, pray tell?”
Dad returned to the living room. “That was my captain. He got in touch with Mrs. Trees and gave her the good news.”
“Oh. That’s good, right?” Sam asked, but Dad didn’t look like it was good news.
“Sam, did you post up an article that the virus had been removed and everything was all clear?”
Her tongue felt four sizes too big for her mouth. She nodded slowly.
Dad sighed. “Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s been my story. The virus being gone is news, Dad.”
“You should have asked me before you posted it.” He sounded very weary all of the sudden.
“Why? It’s my story. This is news. Good news for a change.”
“You wanted to prove Aubrey wrong. That she wasn’t as good of a reporter and that you could get inside information.” Dad shook his head and let out a very heavy sigh.
Sam chewed her lip and looked at the floor as her chest tightened.
“Makayla, could you look at the code on that drive and see if you can see any of those identifiers, please?”
“Sure, Mr. Sanderson.” Makayla sat back down on the couch and popped the jump drive back in.
“What’s going on, Dad?” Sam asked.
“My captain wants to know how we removed the virus. I had to explain that I asked you girls to look into the code. He’s finding it hard to believe that a middle schooler, no matter how smart, could do what the district’s IT team couldn’t: isolate the virus and uninstall it without damaging the system unless they were involved in the creation of the virus to begin with. And the timing . . . he mentioned that it seemed like perfect timing for you to be able to write an article for it so quickly.”
“He thinks we created the virus so we were able to remove it? And that we timed it so I could scoop Aubrey? That’s just ridiculous,” Sam said, starting to pace again. Although, from Dad’s point of view, he could probably understand Captain York’s way of thinking.
Dad stared at Makayla, his face tense.
“Oh.” Mac swallowed. “He doesn’t think we did anything. He thinks I
did, doesn’t he, Mr. Sanderson?”
“I’m sorry, Makayla,” Dad said. “Apparently Doug told his father that you were the only person he knew that was better with computer programs than he is.”
Oh no. Makayla’s mother was going to freak out big time if this became a big deal.
“I’m hoping you can find one of those identifiers you were telling me about so I can turn it over to the cyber unit. I’ll put a rush on it so they can try and trace it back to the person who actually created the virus.”
Makayla nodded. She hunched over the computer monitor and began scrolling.
Sam’s mouth went dry as her heart pounded. “I’m so sorry. If I’d have known my story would stir up your boss and cause him to suspect Makayla, I never would have posted it.” She never wanted Dad to get in trouble because of something she’d done, but she had. She felt awful and wanted desperately to make it right.
“I know, pumpkin, but this is a prime example of why I’m always telling you to not act rashly.” He slipped his arms into his coat sleeves and pulled out a cap from the pocket. “I’ve got to go get your mother. Mrs. Willis is next door if you need anything.”
Sam stared at her dad’s retreating back, feeling lower than low. “I’m sorry, Mac.” Sam dropped down on the couch beside her best friend.
“It’s okay, Sam. I wasn’t involved in designing the virus, so I have nothing to worry about, right?” But she didn’t look so sure.
Sam felt horrible. Worse than horrible. Horrid on top of horrible. “What can I do to help?”
Makayla never took her eyes off the monitor or her fingers from the keyboard. “Get me a piece of paper and a pen, please.”
“You found something?” Sam’s dad asked as he retrieved his keys from the wooden bowl on the table in the entryway. He moved to stand beside Makayla and read over her shoulder.
“I think I found an identifier.”
Sam grabbed a notepad from the desk and a pen that she handed to her best friend. Makayla scribbled a line of numbers and letters onto the paper.
“That’s an identifier?” Sam’s father asked.
