Phantom Wheel

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Phantom Wheel Page 7

by Tracy Deebs


  They won’t even think twice about it. Except to be grateful a charger is there, within easy reach so that their phone doesn’t die before they can check their email or pull up their movie tickets or check in for their flight. Seth is right. The number of people who will use these things is a lot closer to infinite than it is to zero.

  I look at my own phone with disgust—and some horror. What’s to say they aren’t in there already? What’s to say they didn’t crack all our phones when we were in that crappy fake office building in L.A.? Sure, I left early, but the others didn’t. What if they used their own equipment in conjunction with the stuff Jacento had there? It’s not a stretch to wonder if Jacento’s already in their phones or laptops.

  The thought gives me the creeps—and has me redoubling my efforts on my old code.

  IT: And then what? You can’t deliver a worm this sophisticated via a charging cable

  EH: Who says it’s sophisticated?

  AI: I do

  SP: It’s polymorphic, right? What construct did you use, Alika?

  AI: I used my own

  AI: I developed it last year. Basically it’s Russian roulette, if every chamber had a bullet

  IT: Umm, I’m pretty sure they call that a loaded gun

  AI: More like a Gatling gun. It keeps rapid-fire pinging the system over and over again until it wears it down and the server decides it recognizes it

  OH: Like a wheel. It just keeps spinning until it gets where it wants to go

  AI: Exactly

  EH: That’s pretty dope

  HB: It’s brilliant, just like she said

  HB: Terrifying, but brilliant

  IT: The charging cables can activate the worm, get it so that every phone attached to them whose user has an account at any of the big sites is pinging those sites at the same time

  EH: Wearing them down, like she said, until the site starts to recognize the worm as normal

  IT: Yeah, but that still doesn’t explain how the worm gets on the phone to begin with

  OH: Are you kidding me? It’s Jacento

  OH: All you need is one update

  OH: And you won’t even have to hack to do it

  OH: The phone—and its user—will invite you right on in

  SP: At that point the worm’s just a phantom

  SP: I designed a complicated target-specific set of locators that lets the worm ghost certain apps, then hides inside until the app is activated, and then uses it to target and infect other app users

  IT: So that even those who don’t use the charging stations can eventually be targeted by other apps, once someone who is infected opens the app?

  AI: Like I said

  AI: Brilliant

  HB: Terrifying

  EH: But freaking brilliant

  IT: So then what? This phantom wheel just runs amok until every system in the world is infected?

  IT: For what purpose?

  That’s about the time everyone gets quiet. Because, yeah. That’s the part I haven’t been able to figure out—and from the lack of messaging going on, I’m pretty sure they haven’t either. But you can be damn sure I’m going to.

  I put the finishing touches on my code and then shoot it out to the others over the chat.

  AI: What’s that?

  OH: Something I’ve had worked up for a while

  OH: I just modified it to protect all Jacento products from intrusion. At least for now

  OH: Thought you guys might be interested, considering what we’re talking about

  EH: I’m interested

  HB: Me too

  SP: Whoa, didn’t realize we were at the point where we trust each other enough to just run some random code

  OH: Run it, don’t run it

  OH: I don’t care

  SP: Yeah, but that’s what anyone who wants us to run their code would say

  SP: How do we know it’s legit?

  AI: It’s legit

  SP: How do you know?

  AI: Because he’s been the one warning us all along

  AI: And because I just uploaded it and it’s really sweet

  AI: Pretty sure it turned my whole phone ghost

  OH: It did

  IT: You just uploaded it without checking it out first?

  AI: I trust Owen. Plus, my phone’s running the heaviest protection out there

  AI: Can’t risk the secretary of state getting his secure phone infected by his daughter’s phone.…

  In the grand scheme of things, it’s not much trust. But she’s a hacker and any trust at all is above the norm, so I’ll take it. The fact that it’s the very hot Alika who went out on a limb for me… yeah, not going to let that matter.

  At least not right now, when there’s too much to do.

  I split the screen again, start to pull up info on Jacento. Financial data, shareholder reports, stuff like that. If hacking’s taught me nothing else, it’s to follow the money. In the end, it’ll show us everything we need to know.

  EH: We need to figure out what they’re doing with this worm

  HB: And then what?

  EH: And then we stop it

  EH: I’m no white hat, but come on. We can’t just let this go

  IT: Right? There’s a difference between hacking something to poke around, maybe get some useful info

  SP: But giving Jacento the right to get inside every single one of their customers’ phones?

  SP: And then using those phones to get inside three of the largest corporations in the world?

  SP: With the most users?

  AI: That’s not okay. That’s…

  OH: Infinite power

  OH: In a world where information makes you a king, it’s infinite, unchecked power

  IT: But for what?

  Her frustration comes across loud and clear, but I don’t know what to tell her. I don’t know what to tell any of them. When I first started digging, I wasn’t sure I’d even get to this point, let alone a place where we’re actually trying to stop the destruction we wrought.

  Well, the destruction they wrought. I’m the only one who was smart enough to walk away.

  I think about doing that now, about washing my hands of this whole thing.

  I didn’t do anything wrong, after all. This isn’t my mess to clean up, and I’ve got a lot of other stuff going on in my life right now. Taking this on too? It’s a lot.

  Maybe even too much.

  But the alternative? Just walking away and letting these guys bumble their way through it? How can I do that when they weren’t even clued in enough to figure out what they were doing in L.A.?

  Besides, I have a vested interest.

  Once again, I glance down at my Jacento phone, sitting right next to my Jacento tablet. I’m protected, at least for now. But still, the idea of some freaking corporation doing whatever they want with my accounts, my data?

  OH: We need to break the research up

  OH: Jacento is huge, and we don’t have time to duplicate—the article says they’re going to roll out the kiosks on New Year’s Day

  SP: That’s in three weeks

  OH: I am aware

  AI: Owen’s right. We need to do this fast

  AI: I’ll take the kiosks, find out everything I can about them

  OH: I’ll take the financial data. I’m good with numbers

  IT: I can help you with that

  OH: I’ve got it

  IT: Don’t be like that

  IT: There’s a lot of subsidiaries and shell corporations. It’s too much for one person to do, at least with the timetable we’ve got

  EH: I’ll start sniffing around patents and other proprietary info

  EH: Check out what Jacento has coming down the pike

  HB: I’ll hack the officers, see what I can pick up from their emails and texts

  SP: Alika, send me what you’ve got of the payload, and I’ll take Phantom Wheel out for a spin

  SP: See what it can do

  SP: Metaphorically speaking, I mean

/>   OH: Is that what we’re calling this thing? Phantom Wheel?

  IT: I like it

  HB: It’s better than Stuxnet

  AI: Anything is better than Stuxnet, but yeah, I like it too

  EH: It’s almost as flashy as LoveLetter

  IT: But cooler

  SP: So Phantom Wheel it is

  AI: How long do we have?

  EH: I say a week

  IT: A week?

  EH: If we’ve only got three weeks to actually stop this thing, then yeah

  EH: A week on reconnaissance is about all we can spare

  AI: Especially since finals are coming up and then Christmas Eve is in two weeks

  SP: How about ten days

  SP: We get everything we can on Jacento between now and December 19

  I’m about to jump in, try to stretch it to two weeks, when a crash sounds from downstairs. It’s followed immediately by my father yelling, and then another crash. By then I’m at my door, Phantom Wheel suddenly the last thing on my mind.

  “Caleb, please. Stop!” my mom screams.

  Forget the stairs. I vault over the bannister when I’m halfway down, and hit the ground running. They’re in the family room, and it only takes me a few seconds to realize what’s happening. My mom’s standing near the couch, a wineglass broken at her feet as red wine stains the rug. A wine bottle broken against the wall across the room, liquid puddling under the dark green shards.

  And my father standing over her, fist raised and face livid. The scariest part, though, is the way his eyes are checked out, completely blank, like he’s just not there.

  Experience has taught me that’s when he’s at his worst, and I pretty much jump across the room in an effort to put myself between him and my mom. I make it just in time, his fist slamming into my shoulder instead of her face.

  He still packs a hell of a punch, but I hold my ground since the alternative is falling onto my five-foot-three-inch mom.

  “Owen, no! Don’t!” she cries out, trying to put herself between us. “He’s not okay right now.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” Still, I don’t move. This is one more thing I can’t walk away from. One more fight I’m determined to win.

  No matter what it costs.

  Case Study:

  Alika Izumi aka W4rr10r W0m4n

  DOB: 8/1/00

  Sex: Female

  Height: 5′1″

  Weight: 97 lbs.

  Eye Color: Brown

  Hair Color: Black

  Race: Asian (of Japanese descent)

  School: Georgetown Prep (private), Washington, DC

  Parents: Ted and Maki Izumi

  Personal Net Worth: $100K college fund

  Family Net Worth: $5.5 mil

  Interesting Fact: Her father has served behind the scenes of three presidencies and is currently secretary of state, his most high-profile job to date. But rumor has it he’s got his eye on running for office in 2020.

  Most Notorious Hack: Created virus that hacked congressional databases and revealed campaign donation irregularities for several members of Congress opposed to net neutrality.

  OBSERVATIONS:

  Never trust perfection. That’s essentially the warning Owen gave us that first day, and it’s one I would have heeded if I hadn’t so badly wanted to believe the CIA lie. After all, perfection being a lie is a lesson I learned early in life, and one that’s stood me in good stead through the years. I forgot it once, and look at the mess we’re in now. No way am I going to forget it again.… Which is why I keep side-eyeing the hell out of this girl, who is as close to perfect as I’ve ever seen.

  Here are just a few of her recent accomplishments:

  • In line to be valedictorian of her class

  • Applications in to Harvard, Yale, Vassar, and Princeton, no applications to safety schools

  • Captain of the debate team

  • President of student council

  • Editor of the school newspaper

  • Not a piano prodigy, but pretty damn close

  • And oh yeah, hacker extraordinaire

  Of that whole list, the thing I find most interesting is… I don’t think she even likes playing the piano. And I don’t mean a love-hate relationship here. I mean a hate-hate relationship. I’ve watched about ten hours of performance videos of her in major competitions in the US and Europe (snore), and it’s really obvious that she hates everything about it. Being on stage, playing piano, competing—I’m not even sure she likes the music. And yet she takes lessons from a master teacher two evenings a week and practices at least two hours every day of her life, often in the middle of the night because that’s the only time she can fit it in.

  She’s a dedicated, ambitious girl who gives everything she does 210 percent, as evidenced by the three AM practice sessions and the Ivy League applications. Add in exclusive private schools, a politician daddy, and perfect SAT scores (that she got the old-fashioned way), and it’s obvious she’s setting herself up to be a major power player down the line.

  And yet… there’s the hacking. She’s good at it, really good, but it doesn’t go with her perfect image at all. Not to mention if anyone finds out, her daddy’s career won’t look too good—and neither will her future. So why risk it? Why jeopardize everything she’s worked so hard for?

  SURVEILLANCE FOOTAGE:

  12/19/18

  19:32

  WASHINGTON, DC

  Footage begins at 17743 Cherry Tree Lane, in the prestigious Georgetown neighborhood of DC, at 19:32, when the front-door security camera picks up Alika Izumi and her parents arriving at the home of Brady Masters, secretary of the Treasury in the current administration. Masters and his wife, Sandra, are throwing a Christmas party for Washington’s movers and shakers, and Ted Izumi is definitely on that list. It should be noted that several members of the US Secret Service are present. Also to be noted is that the Izumis will be referred to by their first names in this report to avoid confusion.

  Before dinner, there’s a cocktail hour in the main salon, brought to us—with audio—courtesy of nanny cam 1 (hidden in a plant near the baby grand piano that dominates a corner of the room). Alika is definitely the youngest person at the party, but she holds her own.

  At 20:04, Alika excuses herself to go to the restroom. She is followed by Brady Masters. The nanny cam loses sight of them at 20:05.

  At 20:15, nanny cam 2 picks up Alika and Brady Masters strolling into the library. He is telling her a funny story about his long-ago Princeton interview, urging her to relax over the one she has scheduled at the beginning of January.

  She thanks him for the alumni recommendation he gave her, but he shrugs it off as not a big deal. Then he walks to one of the bookshelves and pulls out a very old-looking book. The title is obscured, but later comments by Alika and Masters reveal that it is a 1687 edition of Cervantes’s Don Quixote. It is obvious from her enthusiasm that this is what Alika came into the library to see.

  She opens the book and starts poring over it. Two minutes and fourteen seconds later, Masters crosses to the bar in the corner and pours two drinks, which appear to be whiskey. He carries them back to where Alika is still absorbed in the book, and tries to hand her one. She refuses with a smile, then points to something in the book and reads, “Finally, from so little sleeping and so much reading, his brain dried up and he went completely out of his mind.” She laughs, then comments that Cervantes obviously knew what it was like to be a high school senior trying to get into an Ivy League school.

  Masters tells her not to worry about her acceptance, that it’s in the bag. Then he pulls the book out of her hands and lets it fall to the table in front of her.

  Alika stiffens, starts to move away. But he wraps his hands around her waist and holds her in place as he leans down so his mouth is pressed against her neck.

  The following conversation occurs:

  Alika: What are you doing? Stop! (She pulls away from him, looking appalled.)

  Masters: Do
you know how beautiful you are? (He reaches for her again.)

  Alika: Are you serious right now? (She knocks his hand away.) I’m going back to the party.

  Masters: What’s your hurry? (He grabs her arm as she starts toward the door, and then he pulls her against him.) I thought you wanted to talk about the Princeton interview?

  Alika: Let go of me.

  Masters: Don’t get so worked up, baby.

  Alika: Don’t call me baby. (She struggles against him in earnest now.)

  Masters: Come on, now. You’ve got to know this is how the world works. You do something for me, and I’ll do something for you. No one needs to know—Hey! What did you do that for? (A closer look at nanny cam 2 reveals that Alika gave him a hard kick in the shin.)

  Alika: Don’t ever touch me again.

  Masters: You really don’t get it, do you? (Masters is glaring at her as he bends down and rubs at his shin.)

  Alika: You’re the one who doesn’t get it. I’m valedictorian of my class, editor of the school paper, student council president, and captain of the debate team. I’ll get myself into Princeton, thank you very much. And the next time you try to grab me? I won’t aim for your shin.

  She heads for the door; Masters—who is visibly fuming—calls after her.

  Masters: You just made a big mistake. You know who was more appreciative of my help? Your sister.

  Alika (turning back to him): What did you say?

  Masters crosses his arms and smirks, looking very pleased with himself. Alika seems so shaken by the mention of her sister that she visibly trembles for a moment before quickly steeling herself.

  Alika: You don’t talk about my sister. You don’t think about my sister. Do you understand me?

  Masters’s posture and body language change so that he once again becomes the arrogant, confident man who entered the room with Alika a few minutes ago. He believes he has the upper hand.

  Masters: Get out of my library, little girl. I’ve grown bored of you.

  Alika stands stock-still for a moment, and when she speaks next, her voice is steady and low.

  Alika: There’s going to be a day, in the not very distant future, when you look back at this moment and realize what a big mistake you just made.

 

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