by James Cox
"Yes? Can I help you?"
"No, signora, but perhaps I can help you."
"Yes?"
"You are Signor Richmond Garry's employer?"
"I am."
"Excellent! I am Claud Evart and I am most pleased to meet you! Master Garry uncovered a treasure ship of information... relevant... to what you want. He is currently following a trail we dare not leave unattended lest we lose it. That is the reason he sent me instead of coming himself. He was very concerned that you might be worried at his... absence."
"He was right and I am. How do I know you are as you claim?"
Evart reached into his pocket and produced a card. Garry's ID.
"I take it he did not mention our association."
"No. He usually doesn't, though. Where is he now?"
"He is in West Stachberg, signora, and as I said quite occupied with his trail."
"Take me to him."
Now Evart's smile turned apprehensive. "Signora... That is quite impossible! There are... difficulties."
"I know how not to be a distraction. He taught me that and more. Take me to him now."
"But..."
"If I don't see Richmond within the next hour I will be forced to alert the CA, Signor Evart. I'm not joking, either."
"I believe you, Signora Gallaway." He walked away. "My hover is here."
He led her to a nice and extravagantly-fitted hovervan.
"Please forgive me, Signora," he said, "but this is, regrettably, necessary."
Gallaway's last image was of the small tube Evart held spraying in her face.
***
Robin took a deep breath and tried to relax. Robert winked from the next table. Both of them wore their ZoneHead attire as did the others slowly filling the club. The evening crowd arrived in twos and threes and the band, thankfully, had not. Several chat requests popped up on Robin's machine but she answered only the one from Robert.
'Ready when you are, lady,' he sent.
Robin launched her burn low and slow. She threaded her connection to the CA through a seven-site spiral tunnel Robert built for her earlier. Robert requested several large downloads through her connection. As the data moved through her machine she analyzed the structure and flow and began corrupting the responses. She backed off when the remote port choked on one. When the transmit-acknowledgement swarm slowed the CA connection she carefully rode one of the positive responses past the public portal and into a datasink. A simple watchdog logged the responses but, since the sink contained no sensitive data, did nothing more.
She nodded to Robert. He canceled the downloads to his machine but Robin kept them coming to hers. He bounced a series of attacks off several remote sites and into the CA. When the dogz woke up Robin's connection hardened but didn't close. Success! With the dogz tracing Robert and the security concentrated on him Robin launched her promote-me and followed it with several sharpened and optimized queries. In the time it took Robert to close and null his connections she closed hers properly, aborted the downloads and deflated her tunnels silently.
Robert left quickly and she followed not long afterward. As she walked she passed Carl sitting, settled into a comm booth not far away and loaded the latest FCNA newsmod. No CA hovers appeared at the datamart and Carl detected no other threats. When he rose and stretched she left the booth.
The next morning Robin and Carl, looking blessedly mundane now, sat at an outdoor datamart-cafe with hot spiced chog.
"How likely is this to be traced," he asked.
"Not," she replied, "Unless they found the anomalous query routing and managed to crack it, which they would have no reason to suspect. I set them to trigger randomly and used a progressive path obfuscation algorithm on the response generation. Again, unless they knew exactly what I did, where I did it and why they'd have no reason for suspicion. Well, none above normal. Besides, the responses will attach themselves to ordinary traffic until they're two bounces away from the main site. That's why we waited so long to collect results."
With that Robin launched her retrieval module. Before long she had a spool full of data.
"I have a question," said Robin as they waited for her correlations to finish, "How exactly did you find me on Echo Bend. I know you traced Th-thomas," she paused over a slight catch in her throat, "but it took you a long time to find me afterward."
Robert glanced at Carl before speaking.
"We forged a site. Rather, we owned one and gave it a face lift. Plenty of armor and a lot of stealthed security."
Feces! "Silverton Supply?" She asked Robert but Carl nodded.
"Flames. Why haven't you set up something like that here? That might..."
Robert coughed softly, interrupting her.
"Without confessing anything, luv, who said we haven't?"
Robin frowned at the implication she didn't like.
"You know I could have helped," she said, biting back a small spark of anger, "If you trusted me."
"We do, hon, it's just..."
"You could have helped," said Carl, "but that would cut into your data acquisition and correlation time. I jacked the site and armored it. I know you can do that better but I'm at least minimally capable at it and I six-sigmas can't work data the way you do."
"Oh." Now Robin felt foolish. "Would you like me to help?"
Carl shrugged. "Depends on how much sleep you're willing to give up."
***
"There's nothing now."
The weak-chinned man nodded. "How certain are you?"
The young burner looked up from his console to stare at his superior. "Six-sigmas solid on the beam. Plus-plus! The attack pattern matched what she did on Echo Bend ninety-plus. The delta zone was a different target plus what she learned. She's got some cryo new moves now." This last he spoke with respect.
"She had help, though. Did you trace it?"
"Nak! You said..."
"Enough." The weak-chinned man made a placating gesture. "You did plant the information?"
"Exactly like you wanted. That..."
"Exactly! Well done, my friend. That was the critical part. A trace would have been helpful but by no means necessary."
Mollified now, the burner turned back to his console. The weak-chinned man sat back to enjoy his glass of tea. Someone else would make the next move now.
***
Robin sent data from her terminal to the holovee. She had Robert's assurance that no one outside the cabin could see or hear what happened inside.
"These five," she said, "They're all young, talented and have no close friends or family. At least that I could find."
Carl scowled. "What were your criteria?"
"I based them on... on what I know about... Him. These would fit ideally."
"Do you need to hit the CA again?"
Robin ran her fingers through her hair and lit a 'stick. "Not really. It wouldn't hurt but it probably wouldn't help either. It would help if I could talk to their neighbors, or what friends I did locate."
"No." Carl spoke with finality. "Robert and I don't have a ton of time and you don't have the skill for it. Yet."
He stared at her hard. Though it cost her Robin matched him.
"Mpf. You're determined. We can do a quick read. If..." He let the words trail off.
"Yes?"
"We have six sites we need jacked and lifted. Solid armor and plenty of traces."
"I'll do it."
***
Micah and Ferrel wandered hither and thither, observing everything and showing interest in all they observed. They had no trouble reading the crowds and even managed to chat with one of the missing women's neighbor.
"Well," asked Micah.
"I'm still not sure," said Ferrel. Though he spoke softly Micah had no problem hearing. "A lot depends on how easily she jacks the sites and what she does with them."
"What about her angle?"
"If she's genuine it's a strong probable. Unless Vinsley doesn't repeat. TLI to know for sure. If she is a plant
she would still try to convince us he'd repeat, which he might just to catch us. I'm with you, my brother, I plus-plus wish Vera was with us."
"Truth and pure. What about the other merchandise?"
Ferrel sighed. "It's a shell-sell no blather. I've tracked most of the arrival manifests to various and sundry storage sites around the planet, which you already knew. The problem is that ruddy few of them came out intact."
"So they're switching boxes or breaking and re-shipping using different codes," speculated Micah.
"Or they're just leaving them there until such time as they're needed."
"Rut," swore Micah, "Any thoughts on the alternative option?"
"Just the burns or lock and dock?"
"Just the burns, just a few and just where they'll be noticed."
***
Robin frowned, swatted an errant dog and terminated her session. Duplication and armor presented more of a challenge than actually jacking sites and it took more time. She didn't burn the originals past the outermost node, and that only enough to relink and merge. After a quick soda she jacked and finished the final site. She had half a fan of security cores courtesy of Robert but even they required attention occasionally.
Back at the cabin Robin fixed a quick snack and checked her datafeeds. She had several news services streaming into her scan routines, routines that scoured the stream for any hint of information concerning her list of missing women. So far she had squelch but, since Carl didn't complain, she kept the scanners running. After a quick trip to the fresher Robin saw the terminal blinking. Success! She called up the information and, as she read it, felt a chill.
"He's here," said Robin, "Absolutely, six-sigmas solid and without question."
Carl and Robert returned to find Robin, pale and shaking, working to wrest every last scrap of information she could out of the net.
"Convince me," said Carl.
She showed him the articles she collected. "Look at her." Robin didn't want to. The before holo showed a young, happy red-haired young lady. "Look at her talent. Her expertise." She knew computers inside and out and loved working with them. "L-look at the afterward." Now thin and frail she wore a final, haunted expression along with a too-revealing dress. "Look at the medical report."
"That was an unnecessary risk," said Carl.
"I was careful, burnit! Look at it!" Evidence of neural induction trauma. Traces of sinfire. Cause of death ruled as a blue blossom overdose. "They. Are. Here!" Robin bit back hard on her emotions. Sudden pain as her fingernails dug into her palms. "If you don't believe anything else, believe that." She tried to unclench her fists.
Finally Carl nodded. "Slib. He's here."
"He'll be wanting... He'll want... another one." Hollowness in her stomach.
"Hon," said Robert, "we can't monitor every possible victim."
"We don't have to! Look. Look at where she disappeared and where she was found."
"Yes?"
"How far was I from Primary when you found me? Those are two places we don't have to watch. He might use them for storage but he will be somewhere else. Somewhere as far from either as he can be."
Carl mulled this. "We stick to the plan, Robin. We'll do what we can but stick to the plan. What we do have six-sigma is less tenuous than that."
***
Robin gritted her teeth and willed her programs to run faster. She kept her word and stayed with Robert's plan but now she also worked on one of her own. Using the techniques she'd refined since Echo Bend she now had five solid credit-taps anchored to five very large financial institutions. In her scant free time she AI-enhanced her scan and processing modules.
Eileen Ransey. That name burned within Robin's mind. She was Everett's last victim. Robin knew it!
She also scattered her finances among five different drops and a pair of planet-wide retinally-accessible bank accounts. She had cash. She had access to credits wherever she might need them, at least on this planet. Back at the cabin Robin's readouts flashed. She read the brief then chipped all her data and the current iteration of her AIdaptive routines. Now she had a place. All she needed was the proper opportunity.
"Anything new," asked Robert when he and Carl returned.
"Nothing," she lied, "You?"
"The same and a bit more of it. You look tired, hon."
"I am, a little. Between your projects and mine I..."
"Drop yours," interrupted Carl.
"I'll lose sleep," she retorted, "I'm polar. I also think they will work!"
Carl shrugged. "Just make sure you're alert tonight. We're doing some hot tracing and that may set of some security at one of our sites."
"I'll be alert," she said, "So will the security."
Robert and Carl left before dark. By thirty minutes after nightfall Robin had the polish on their jacked sites. They'd hold a few days at least. Long enough. She carefully and securely erased her data and routines from the house core. She shouldered her terminal, chips and spools. Fast and light. She had her moves planned, careful and quick. She even flipped a coin for several choices. If Robert and Carl held true to form they'd be in late and she planned to be long gone by then.
Robin removed her necklace and chrono and left them beside her organizer. Beneath them lay a folded note. She didn't like not having contact with Robert and Carl but she also didn't want them tracking her.
At the transit station Robin retrieved several packages from a ret-coded locker and boarded her first tran. After a quick trip to its fresher she still carried the packages but few of them contained anything. She wore an extra set of clothes now, hot but ignored with some effort.
As the tran pulled into the station Robin reached into her pocket, shuffled the plastic strips there and picked one. When the tran stopped she debarked, looked at the ticket she'd chosen and headed for that tran. Thirty minutes and two random tran-swaps later Robin lay in a sleeper car. Very quietly she wriggled out of her outer clothes and stuffed them into one of the packages. She applied makeup and dye brushes and then wadded the other empty packages into a single one. That one and the one containing her clothes she stuffed into a large handbag.
Not long after midnight she left the tran, her ticket paid for the full trip just in case, in a small town whose sole raison d'etre was the transit junction where hovertrans and linears swapped cargo and passengers with overland hoverbuses and -trucks. She ended up in the back of a battered and dirty hoverbus, seated beside a younger girl with a distant, fearful look in her eyes. When Robin looked at her the girl shifted and looked away.
Robin cracked the window and lit a 'stick. She felt a gaze. When she turned she saw the girl looking at her. Wordlessly she offered a 'stick.
"Hello," said Robin, passing over her lighter, "Running away?"
"Nak. Just... Just going. That's all."
"For truth." After a few moments of silence Robin reached into her pocket and found a small sheaf of bills. She handed them to the girl. "Listen, hon. You can't run away from your problems and you can't hide, either. You have to hit them square-on and solid hard."
The girl looked at the money then made it vanish. "Is that what you're doing?"
"Plus-plus."
Chapter 11. Setting a Trap
Eileen Ransey. Robin concentrated on that name and the young lady behind it. She flitted through half a dozen small towns before settling in Northaven Valley. Nothing set it apart from dozens of others like it. Nothing except close access to transportation anywhere on the planet.
Robin's apartment, neither upscale nor cheap, had three T-alpha pipes along with a redundant slow one for simple comm access. She had a cheap, non-portable terminal for executing the routines she transferred from her portable. She herself intended to stay mobile!
Eileen Ransey! From what she knew of him Everett wouldn't want to stay long without a burner. Most likely he'd want one easily acquired and manipulated and with no prior criminal record. Robin dedicated one of her fast pipes to scanning news feeds for just such a person.
Robin also logged into several chats. She did so to collect raw data and to observe. She didn't bother developing a lot of contacts. She jumped through the popular channels and got a feel for them. Once she had that she designed a chatbot statistics collector. She announced as such, touting it as a trend analysis tool for her graduate work.
Eileen Ransey. Robin memorized every detail she could concerning the lady. She focused on any burn-related information before her disappearance. Then she tried to correlate it with reported instances if i-jacking and other data crimes.
"Assume the cause." Robin told herself this more than once. "Axiom: he is here. Axiom: he lost one burner. Axiom: he will want another burner. Think!"
Finally frustrated with her lack of progress Robin left her apartment. Northaven Valley had its share of shopping plazas and malls. She sought out the closest one and walked through the crowds, simply absorbing the randomness of the individuals flowing through it. She eventually settled in a restaurant next to a tall building she could see from her apartment balcony. The food smelled good and it had just the right size crowd.
"Good evening signora," smiled the waitress, "What would you like to drink?" She handed Robin a menu.
"Coastland Blue Bottle. If you have it."
The lady's smile widened. "Absolutely we have it! My name is Deb and I'll be right back."
Expensive, thought Robin. She suspected Deb would earn a good tip tonight. When Deb returned Robin ordered at her suggestion, not expensive and definitely good! After a pleasant, light dessert she felt some nebulous ideas forming at the back of her mind.
"Thanks," said Deb as Robin handed paid and coded a generous tip. "If you need anything else just let me know."
"Oh, you're closing." Robin focused back on the present and saw members of the staff, who now far outnumbered the customers, starting to clean and tidy up the place. "I'm not really ready to go home." Robin didn't realize she spoke the last until Deb answered.
"Try the Corner. It's across the plaza at the back. It's mellow and smooth with occasional hot flashes." Here she winked. "Several of us are heading that way when we finish here. Will we see you?"
