Twistor

by Cramer, John; Wolfe, Gene;

  The balding man sat in the back seat of the black car, a scrambler phone in his hand, as they paced Saxon past the bridge exit and east along the 520 freeway. 'His usual route,' he said into the phone, is to turn south off 520 at the 148th Avenue exit and then continue south to Northeast Sixth Street. Get the "Road Closed" signs ready. He should be turning on Sixth in about five minutes.'

  'That's a roger, Mandrake,' came a voice from the phone.

  He glanced sideways at the other passenger in the broad back seat of the car. The large man's massive right arm was bandaged and supported by a tan sling. The hand region looked unnaturally short and was swathed in white bandages. The man's coarse features were frozen in a grimace of outrage, his yellow teeth tightly clenched.

  The flagman, wearing white coveralls and a yellow hard hat, waved the red flag back and forth slowly as Allan Saxon's BMW rounded a curve on the wooded road and approached him. Construction barriers blocked both lanes of the road, forcing the car to stop. Saxon lowered the window. 'What's the trouble?' he asked. The man smiled, nodded, and pointed the shaft of the red flag in Saxon's direction. From an inconspicuous orifice in the rounded end of the shaft, a cloud of fine droplets emerged and struck Saxon full in the face. 'Oysters?' he said, a puzzled expression on his face. Then he collapsed across the steering wheel.

  The flagman reached a gloved hand through the open window, turned off the ignition, and opened the driver-side door. Saxon tumbled out onto the ground. Just then, a large black car rolled up and two men got out. Not a word was spoken as together they lifted Saxon and dumped him unceremoniously in the plastic-lined trunk of the black vehicle. Folded road-block signs followed. The two men reentered the black car, the flagman closed the trunk, and the car turned around and sped back up the road.

  The flagman stripped off his coveralls, revealing a tweed coat and neatly pressed slacks underneath. He unscrewed the tiny CIA-issue cylinder of nonlethal nerve gas from its socket in the flag handle, sealed it in a zip-lock plastic bag, and dropped it into his coat pocket. The coveralls and hard hat he stuffed into a canvas airline bag along with scrambler phone and flag.

  He opened all the doors of the BMW and waited while the residual fumes cleared. Then from each of his nostrils he extracted a filter plug. He sealed them in another zip-lock bag that went into the same coat pocket. He climbed into the BMW, started the engine, and turned it around, then drove back down the wooded road, heading for Seattle. Saxon's BMW would soon be back in its usual slot on the A level of the central campus underground parking garage.

  Melissa was sure she wasn't lost. But she was kind of turned around, and the trees all looked the same. She tried to remember how she had come here . . .

  This morning had been fun. After climbing down from the treehouse, they'd gone exploring together in the forest. They'd seen many peculiar insects and some very strange birds that were eating berries in a bush. They could hang in midair when they were eating, and they all had two pairs of wings. David had said there must be two kinds of birds here: those with four wings like the berry eaters, and those with four legs like the treebirds.

  They had collected berries and mushrooms into plastic bags for the food supply. David had brought the big black gun along. For protection, he said, against big animals. But the only animals they'd seen were the birds eating berries, some other birds high in the trees, and a few of the shy six-legged squirrels that could change color.

  The problems had come after lunch. David had set up a work table under the tree and had begun to work with some papers and things. She and Jeff had an argument then, and David had yelled at her. It was so unfair! It had been Jeff's fault . . . he was being a brat, but David had blamed her. She was the oldest, he'd said, and should have better judgment. So she had decided to go off by herself in the forest to collect some more of the sweet pink berries they'd been eating since this morning. She'd left without telling David and picked a time when Jeff wasn't watching.

  She had found quite a lot of the berries, two plastic bags full. And she'd seen some interesting rabbitlike creatures. But now she realized that she didn't actually know quite how to get back to the treehouse. A knot of fear tightened in her stomach. What if she had to spend the night outdoors? She remembered David's warning about the dark things that flew at night and the large bearlike creature he'd seen last night at the base of their tree.

  Taking a deep breath, Melissa looked around. She mustn't panic. She was pretty sure the treehouse was in this direction, but the brown-orange forest floor didn't look quite right. She walked on. Then through the trees she saw a sparkle of reflected light, something that was silvery. She walked toward it.

  It was a small pool of water. Cold, clear water was trickling from some green mossy rocks on one side of it, and on the other a small stream ran down the hill. The forest here was very still and quiet except for the small sounds of running water.

  Melissa knelt next to a big rock beside the pool, studying the ripples on its surface, then looking down into its clear depths. Small jewel-like swimming insects scurried about in patches of sunlight near the pool's edges, but its center was clear and deep. She reached out and dipped her hand there, bringing to her mouth a cupped palm of cold water. She was thirsty, she realized. The cool water tasted wonderful. She drank more.

  She recalled getting a drink of cold water from the refrigerator at home and felt suddenly very sad. Mother had told her never drink out of the bottle, always get a glass. She thought of her mother then, and her father. They'd be upset now because she hadn't come home last night. Mom always wanted her in the house before dark. They must think that she and Jeff had run away or were lost or kidnapped or even dead. She pictured her mother in the back yard, calling and calling for Melissa, and no one came. A tear slid down her cheek and dropped into the water.

  She studied the ripples in the pool. As the reflection cleared she saw another face in the water. She looked more carefully. It was the face of a small brownish creature, reflected in the water. It must be behind the big rock at her side. Melissa drew a quiet breath and kept very still as she watched the creature. It sat at the water's edge and drank, lapping up the water with its pink tongue. Then its light brown forepaw darted into the water and emerged with a wriggling minnow held between tiny fingers. Through the ripples Melissa could make out that the creature delicately placed the minnow into its mouth. She giggled.

  When the ripples cleared again, the creature's calm violet eyes were looking directly at her in the water. It stared at her for a long time. She noticed that it had big pointed ears, brown fur that now looked darker than it had before, and a long, flexible, bushy tail. And it had six legs – or perhaps four legs and two arms was more correct. It stood on the four back legs rather like a cat, but its body was longer and curved upward near the front, where the other two legs were more like arms ending in little six-fingered hands. It flicked its ears forward in a funny way, making Melissa laugh again. Then the creature scampered around the rock and ran slowly toward the forest to disappear behind a tree.

  Without thinking about anything but the little animal, Melissa followed it. It ran from tree to tree. She noticed that it was an orange-brown now, close to the color of the dead leaves on the forest floor. It did not seem afraid, but it always kept a short distance ahead of her. The woods looked more familiar here. The little animal's fur changed to a lighter shade of brown as it climbed a tall tree. Melissa walked all around the tree, but could see no sign of the animal. However, very high up in the crotch of one of the larger branches was what might have been a nest.

  Finally, Melissa gave up searching for the little creature and looked around her. She was in a part of the forest very near the treehouse, she realized . . .

  Melissa, feeling very excited, walked up to David with two plastic bags full of pink berries. He was sitting on a big rock, working at the table he'd made from a piece of plywood and some branches. She saw that he was staring at a large piece of white paper with lots of colored lines dra
wn on it. It was unrolled on the tabletop, and he'd put rocks at the corners to hold it down.

  David suddenly smiled and quickly copied something from the big drawing to a pad of paper in his lap. Then he frowned. 'Damn,' he said, and drew a line through what he'd just written. Looking up, he seemed surprised to see Melissa there. 'Hi,' he said. 'What's up?'

  He didn't seem to be mad at her anymore, and he hadn't noticed that she'd been gone, she thought. Good. 'David,' she began, 'I saw a new animal in the forest!' As she talked, she added the pink berries she'd collected to their small store of food.

  David frowned. 'What kind of animal?' he asked. 'How big was it? Maybe it was a relative of that bear-creature I saw last night.' That bear must worry him a lot, she thought.

  'No,' she said, 'it was little and cute, like a brownish-colored kitten.' Melissa smelled something interesting and realized that she was hungry.

  Jeff was standing by the fire, stirring a big pot of the mushroom soup, half instant mix and half native mushrooms. She ignored the face that Jeff made at her when David wasn't looking and took the white Styrofoam cup with her name on it. She removed the rock that kept it from blowing away and helped herself to some of the soup.

  'We must be very careful here, Melissa,' David said. 'We know very little about the animals that live in these woods, and even the smallest ones could be dangerous. But I guess it's good that there are more animals around. Our instant soup and peanut butter are running pretty low. We're going to have to get more of our meals from the local plants and animals. Do you think maybe we could trap your critter? Is it big enough to make a meal of?'

  Melissa abruptly swallowed the hot soup that had been cooling in her mouth. 'No!' she said, louder than she'd intended. 'This one isn't to eat, David! It was like a little brown kitten. It had big round eyes that were a sort of violet color, and cute pointed ears, and a long furry tail . . . and it had hands, David. Little hands with six fingers. It likes minnows, too. I saw it eat one. It seemed smart, like it was just about to talk to me. I want to get it to come here so I can play with it, not eat it.' She smiled her most charming smile, hoping to win him to her point of view. 'Please, David, can I?' she begged.

  Towering above her, he looked down, a worried expression on his face. 'Melissa,' he said quietly. 'You must understand something. We're in a very difficult situation right now. I'm trying to figure out how to get us back home, and we must have enough food to live on until I do. When we're safe and have enough food to take care of our own needs, then maybe we can think about having pets. But not now, Melissa. Not now.

  'Remember, this is October. Winter is coming soon. Unless we can find good sources of food and water, we're going to starve.' He paused for a moment, and seemed to be making sure she had heard him. 'And although it may have looked like a sweet little kitten,' he went on, 'it's a wild animal, and it could be dangerous. Animals, even little ones, can scratch and bite. It could hurt you if you got too close or tried to pick it up. So, no pets for now.' He looked stern.

  Instead of answering him directly, Melissa told him about the pool of clear water she'd found. David became very excited at the news. Then Melissa led Jeff and David, who brought along the big gun, back to the spring. David also brought a Styrofoam cup to leave there, and they all used it to take long drinks of the delicious cool clear water.

  When they returned to the treehouse, David explained that they could make the best use of the new source of water by building a cistern against the side of the tree, in a place where it curved inward. He said they would make a wall of rocks and dirt that extended the curve of the tree into an oval basin. They would put a sheet of plastic inside to make the cistern watertight. It would hold the water they carried here from the pool, and it would also catch rainwater. He assigned the two of them to look in the forest nearby and find the biggest rocks they could carry to the side of the tree. While the children collected rocks, David returned to the table with the drawing.

  'Mine's better than yours,' said Jeff as Melissa dropped her rock in the pile. He was being a brat again. She turned to go back to the rocky area she had located, and Jeff ran ahead of her. He kept bragging that the rocks he found were bigger and better than hers, and about how he liked to squash the squirmy things he found underneath them. He wouldn't go off and look for his own rocks. Instead, he'd run ahead in the direction she was walking to find the best rocks before she could get them. It made her so mad . . .

  She was older and should have better judgment, David had said. Melissa decided to ignore Jeff. She picked up rocks where she found them and thought about the little brown animal. She'd been lost, she realized. She'd been wrong about the direction of the treehouse when she came to the pool. The little animal had led her back here. Had it somehow guessed that she needed help? She couldn't mention this to David without admitting that she'd been lost, but she was sure the brown kitten had understood her problem and had been trying to help her.

  She looked carefully in the forest all through the afternoon and into the evening. Sometimes she felt sure that something in the trees was watching her, but she saw no more small brown animals in the woods that day.

  19

  Friday Afternoon, October 15

  Victoria was sitting in her basement bedroom before her ancient Macintosh 512E, typing intently, when William arrived back from another day at Theodore Roosevelt High School.

  'Whew, thank God it's Friday-o,' said Flash, putting down his school notebook. 'Hey Sis, whatcha doin'?' He peered over her shoulder.

  She turned to him, trying to block his view of the screen. 'I just came home for some lunch and to get a book I needed for a design problem,' she said. 'William,' she added, attempting to sound casual, 'how did you manage to get into Professor Saxon's files the other day?'

  'Why, Sis!' replied Flash with heavy mock chagrin, 'I thought that only naughty hackers concerned themselves with things like that. You wouldn't really want me to disclose clandestine methods for callously invading another person's sacred privacy, would you? That might allow someone to pry into intimate personal files and read lurid private correspondence. You want to do that? My goodness gracious, I'm shocked! My own sister wants to become a hacker! Whatever is this world coming to?'

  'Cut the crap, dammit!' said Victoria, feeling warmth as her cheeks grew redder, 'I told you what happened at the lab on Wednesday. Yesterday Allan was acting very devious, as if he were hiding something, and today he's gone off somewhere. He disappeared without telling anyone where he was going. Even Susan, his secretary, doesn't know where he is. I need to look in his protected files on the VAX for clues to what's going on. This is important, William.'

  'Hmmm,' said Flash, 'this might actually be a bit of the old El Fun-o. I've always wanted to hack in a Noble Cause. OK. Move over, Sis, and let's see what we can find out about Herr Doktor Professor Saxon.' He beetled his eyebrows. 'We have our ways of making computers beg to confess,' Flash said, faking a German accent. He pulled a second chair up to the Macintosh keyboard and started to type.

  Suddenly he stopped, looking down at the table beside the computer. There was the small white business card of one Agent Bartley of the FBI, Seattle Office. He looked at his sister suspiciously. 'What's this, Sis, a setup? Did you tell the FBI that I was on the Physics HyperVAX the other day?' His eyes narrowed.

  She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. 'Your guilty secrets are safe with me,' she said. 'This person came to the lab the other day to ask about the disappearances, and he gave me his card. I was thinking of calling him to suggest that Allan Saxon knows more than he's telling, but I decided I'd better get more information before doing anything like that.'

  Flash paused a moment longer, then nodded and rapidly typed instructions to the VAX. 'Guess we'd better see what's in those encrypted files then,' he said.

  'Can you actually read encrypted files?' she asked. 'I thought it was supposed to be impossible to break modern encryption codes.'

  'We'll need some help and some lu
ck,' said Flash. 'There are so many possible combinations that you can't just guess at random. In a reasonable time it's impossible to check every guess, and it's sure to tip off the system manager if you try. But we have a little helper-o. See, the system manager on your HyperVAX is very security conscious. He's activated a VMS system surveillance option that makes an entry in an accounting file every time there's a bad log-in and every time a bad input generates a system error. It's intended to help him catch hackers. These security freak-os sure make things easy. It's set up so it doesn't record things like good passwords and encryption keys. But if someone mistypes something, it goes right into the file-o. Here's last month's accounting file. I'll copy it into your area, and we'll see what we can find.'

  'How can you just copy that log file?' asked Victoria. 'Isn't it protected?'

  'It should be,' said Flash, 'but it wasn't automatically protected in some versions of the system software. There's a mandatory patch that your VAX manager was supposed to have installed to make this file unreadable, but I guess he hasn't gotten around to it.' He grinned. 'A busy fella like him can't remember everything.' After the $ prompt he typed: COPY SYS$MANAGER:ACCOUNTING.DAT[]. Then he called up the editor and went to work on the ACCOUNTING.DAT file.

  'See, first I'm searching for incidents that involved Saxon's user code or where the user name before the password was SAXON. Here's one where he tried to do a log-in but screwed the dog-o. That's supposed to be his password, but it was mistyped. And see, here's the same thing a couple of days later. And here's another one. The mangled passwords are "DAVISS," "VIS," and "DASVIS." What do you think he was trying to type?'

  'It must have been "DAVIS," ' said Victoria. 'That's Allan's middle name, now that I think of it.'

  'Connect-o!' said Flash, and wrote something on a pad. 'Now, we search on errors that involved the system encryption utility. He uses it more than anyone else. Ah, here's one. See, he typed "HOLOSDPINWAVE." The entry was supposed to be a maximum of twelve characters and he'd typed thirteen, so it was logged as an error.'