Mad Worlds Collide

by Tony Teora

  Robert poured another cup hot up of black coffee and then polished off his fifth glazed donut. It was around 3:30 and Robert had accomplished what he wanted. He set up some traps, put in some testing equipment and most importantly changed his Crypto-Code on the main maximum-security system. Robert had the system off-line for less than one second to ensure no potential real time hacking. If there were a Trojan program it would be found with the new tools installed. Robert would find out who was causing all this trouble -- it was just a matter of time. He knew it, and he knew Eddy knew it too.

  Sitting in front of his WebTele, Robert put his access back on line to allow incoming messages, but only high-priority. There was a link on the MI-Messager for contact with Gill. Robert hit a few keys and saw a message coming from FLT F206, a private plane that Gill owned. Gill was a skilled pilot, but the F206 was a fighter plane call signal. There had to be something wrong.

  Robert requested a video link. Within ten seconds it was confirmed. A secure channel was opened and as soon as the screen came on line there was an annoying roar of a jet engine. The picture was somewhat shaky, but without mistake there was Gill sitting in the back seat of a modified Tomcat fighter jet.

  "Hi Robert, can you hear me? I’m having trouble seeing you." Gill moved his face close to the video monitor. His face expanded, a little too big for Robert’s liking.

  "I can see you fine Gill, please just sit back and relax. You’re in a fighter jet?"

  In the background Robert was getting an echo of some of the pilot’s radio transmissions, "Roger that Yokota, we have BigBird in the cage…refuel went fine, going into land pattern, over…"

  "Yes Robert, can you hear me? Can you hear me?" The noise of the cockpit was loud too for Gill and this was making it hard for him to hear. Robert heard Gill fine though.

  "Yes, yes I can hear you, you don’t need to scream. Why the hell are you flying in a fighter jet?"

  Gill pulled off his mask, and spoke, sounding as if he lacked oxygen. "Great, Robert. Well, I heard what happened to you, and there is no MI-ASS software on my vintage fighter plane. I made this great deal with the military to get some free press, it’s great isn’t it, -it’s great! Woooooo, see that turn?" The plane had turned hard to the left. Gill smiled and put up a thumbs-up.

  In the background came more radio transmissions and a radio chirped in, "EagleDog, this is Yokota, take BigBird into runway alpha, drop to 5,000 and take off the burn, you’re wasting fuel…"

  Gill ignored Robert and could be heard yelling into the cockpit: "Hey, I thought I paid for that fuel, I wanted a few more minutes of joyriding, EagleDog…"

  "Sorry Mr. Applebee, the base is on alert, no time for joyrides, I have to bring her in,"

  Gill looked back into the video camera and tapped it with his finger. He moved his face in close. This movement was making Robert sick, especially after he’d just finished another glazed donut.

  "Robert, hey Robert can you hear me?"

  "Yes, I can still hear you Gill, what’s up?"

  "Where I’m up! Ha ha! Get it, I’m up over Japan -- ha!" Gill looked out the window.

  "Is your oxygen mask working Gill?" asked Robert.

  "Don’t like my jokes? Well that’s ok, neither does my wife, ha!"

  "What the hell you coming out here for? I can take care of this myself."

  "Well, first of all I want you to know that I trust you, but I am shit worried over getting this deal all ironed for Japan, and the trouble with the MI-ASS software." Gill grimaced, "Every time I have to call that product My Ass I want to fucking kill Chip Tucker."

  "You picked out the name Assisted Security Software, not Chip."

  "Robert, when you’re right I hate it. Chip is supposed to be some goddamn marketing genius. My ass will save your ass -- fucking everyone in the world knows the software by the slogan."

  "There is certainly a lot of name recognition."

  Gill moved his face in closer to the video link. He was taking up most of the screen. He looked directly into the camera. "I know," said Gill, obviously displeased.

  The radio broke in again, "Mr. Applebee, you’re going to have to sit back, there is some turbulence and we will be landing shortly." The plane shook and Gill bumped his head into the video screen. He cursed and sat back. Robert held back a smile.

  "Robert, I couldn’t get through to you, so I spoke to your son Jimmy. His line was open. I left a message for him to pass to you. I will see you tomorrow at 9:00. Please tell me we are close to solving the problem?"

  "Gill, the trap has been set and I have our team in Seattle working on the problem, I think we’ll have some answers by tomorrow’s meeting."

  "Good, knew I could trust you. I have a dinner meeting with the Prime Minister later tonight; I’ll see you tomorrow. By the way, I had your son buy me an Aibo-3000. He was in an Aibo-shop. Wonderful little dog. Over and out as they say in the fighter plane business."

  Robert grimaced, "Over and out Gill."

  Before going home Robert checked the homepage chat room from college days. Joey was online and this chat now used a large private encryption key sent in the e-mail received from Joey. The code was so long that even on Big Blue it would take a week to decipher. A week later the chat messages might have no meaning, especially with the death threats thought Robert. Robert logged on with his long key.

  Robert> Hi Joey, nice idea -- longest key I’ve ever used. I had to pump it in via a file upload. It would take me all day to type it in manually.

  Joey> You always said I was paranoid, well what do you think now?

  Robert> Well this time you’re right. I checked out the comm link. You have a signal from about eight hundred million miles away and it’s not Voyager, too sophisticated and too close…

  Joey> Holy shit, really alien?

  Robert> I’d say so. Also, this hacker has control of Net-Chameleon -- a modified system similar to what you and I worked on for the spooks in college.

  Joey>Hey, they paid the bills.

  Robert>Well, I never liked it, monitoring everyone and with the psych shit. It could drive anyone bats, but it looks like these fucks in space are using it on CIA themselves.

  Joey> Holy shit, how’d you find that out?

  Robert>No time…listen, I think they are planning to use it to make some military deal in the US. There’s lots of traffic between some General Schwartz

  Joey> I worked with the guy. We’ve got some missile control problems with his command. I think I could even hack the missile codes. I’m on a secret project to check into this.

  Robert>I don’t think they’re problems. I think it’s set to start some war. The military is in contact with these pukes and I think the alien has these guys confused.

  Joey> What do you want to do?

  Robert> I’m not sure. There is this virus that is very complicated, it’s biological and has somehow infected the NSA and CIA chip sets in Big Blue.

  Joey>I found out that they changed the chips soon after you went to Japan.

  Robert> I know, I got a secure trigger when they did this. Gill didn’t know I had this set. Listen, it doesn’t matter how many times they change the chip. There is some type of microorganism created that has the whole server infected. It will just re infect the chips. This is not a software virus, it’s a biological one that creates the software virus, -- really sophisticated

  Joey>Boy, those aliens are smart. What are we gonna do?

  Robert> The aliens didn’t create this virus…

  Joey> Who did?

  Robert> I have an idea, but I think whoever created it is trying to help us.

  Joey> What? What do you mean?

  Robert> I need to confirm this but I think this hacker knows the whole situation and is trying to give us information. We have a second hacker in the system besides these aliens and that’s the one sending you and me messages

  Joey> Did you trace it yet?

  Robert> Yeah, kinda…

  Joey>Well who is it?

&nbs
p; Robert> I need more time to confirm, and it’s too hard to believe.

  Joey> What is?

  Robert> I think Big Blue is alive and he’s got cognitive processes. I think Big Blue is defending against these aliens and that he’s the hacker. I think he made the virus too.

  Joey>The computer? Are you okay? Do you think the aliens are just making you think this shit?

  Robert> No, I do think so. I need to find a way to talk to Big Blue.

  Joey> Well, I think this needs to get out to everyone before either the aliens or the CIA try to kill us.

  Robert> All I wanted was to quit MicroIntel and start a nice vineyard…

  Joey> Well, I think it’s bad timing. I’ll write an e-mail worm virus with a file attachment for all your research and we can send it out to the world. No one would dare touch us with the news out everywhere

  Robert> You’ll still get four years for an e-mail worm virus, Joey.

  Joey>Hey Obi Wan, better than living life in fear!

  Robert> I’ll connect tomorrow and pass on more info.

  Joey>Later ‘gater

  CHAPTER 12: Earth calling Mr. President

  "Never trust a computer that puts you to work." --Antonio Raccioppi

  "It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it." -- Vice President Al Gore

  President Newton W. Bush stood quietly in the oval office looking out a picture window and thinking about how he would feel doing this job for another four years. The cold and darkness outside contrasted with a few neatly trimmed green rectangular hedges covered with a recent dusting of snow. Outside the snow reflected in prism, like sparkles from the powerful security fog lights. In an adjoining room stood twenty-five Secret Service agents waiting for instructions, whether to go to the Pentagon or to stay at the White House. Bush looked into the dark sky and thought about a picture he saw of another President, that of John Kennedy looking solemn and lonely in a similar position. Wonder if he was thinking the same thing I’m thinking -- how the fuck did I get here and why did I drink so much last night?

  Buzz…Buzz…an intercom call. Bush hit the button and spoke, "Yes, Bush here."

  "Mr. President, I have the Defense Secretary Murphy here."

  "Send ‘em in." Bush turned toward the main door. Mary, the night shift secretary, opened the door with a smile. Boy she looks chipper -- works nights and sleeps days, an easy shift. I’m stuck working both shifts.

  "Thanks Mary," said Bush, looking at Bud Murphy’s bloodshot eyes and ruffled hair. At least he’s dressed in clean business clothes,thought Bush. "Good morning Bud."

  "Morning my ass! I haven’t been up this early since boot camp thirty five years ago!"

  Bush looked at this watch, (4:30 a.m.) and then pointed toward a tray of coffee. "You look like shit, Bud. Drink some coffee."

  "Well, you don’t look so great yourself, Mr. President."

  Newton Bush laughed. "Hey, say the name with some pride or I’ll have someone shoot you for contempt."

  Bud picked up a coffee. "Can they shoot me now before I wake up?" Bud squinted and waved his hands across his nose. "What the hell died in here Newt? Are they trying to gas you to death?"

  Bush walked over towards the bathroom door and casually closed it. "I think there’s a back draft coming up from the septic tank. It’s an old building," Bush lied.

  "So Schwartz wants to go to Defcon two, and he’s waking up Washington, driving me and my team nuts," said Murphy.

  "He’s driving the country’s new president nuts too. I was with Senator Lebowitz and Fudbaker last night until one. Lebowitz drinks like fish."

  "Yeah well, you know he’s the head of the Armed Forces Committee and he’s the only Senator to stick by his man President Schmidt during the impeachment hearings. The guy probably needs to drink – he barely got re-elected."

  "Well, after Schmidt, I think I better watch Lebowitz," said Bush.

  "If you just watch who you screw you’ll be fine Newt," said Bud, sitting on a couch.

  "Well, I don’t hang around with you much anymore since I married Ann, so I think I’ll be OK." Bush laughed. He and Murphy had been friends in the Senate, and after John’s first wife left, he and Murphy had their choice of lonely Washington women looking for rich and powerful senators. Things changed after Bush met Ann. He devoted himself to one woman for love of marriage, country, and ambition.

  "Listen Newt, I think Schwartz is losing it. I had my men check into the hacker deal and it seems it’s a NSA operative following the Navy Com Sec out of Colorado. It’s a new program to see who we can penetrate before the bad guys penetrate the system. My guys say everything’s under control."

  Bush sat, leaned back, folded his hands behind his head, and yawned. "Boy, its fucking early, isn’t it?"

  Bud laughed. "Get used to it! When I used to work in the Pentagon, my guys used to wake up Schmidt once a week at 4:00 a.m. when the Libyans were building that nuclear reactor underground. Schmidt wanted to be informed every time we had a TomCat bomb a radar installation or launched a Cruise Bunker Buster. The man never got any sleep."

  "Well, that’s not what the papers said." Bush smiled, knowing the press had a field day reporting Schmidt’s infidelities with the ex-Defense Secretary’s wife.

  "Well sleeping with Brown’s wife wasn’t very smart," added Bud.

  Bush hated the politics and the Democrats. He never understood why they couldn’t keep their dick in their pants. "Well, thank God we’ve got some good Republicans in office."

  "Please Newt, after twenty years in politics I can’t say who’s good anymore. We are in shit central."

  "Well, you may be right Bud, but it’s our job to try and keep things looking smooth to the public, and if we can actually make things better, well, they might write something nice about us after we’re dead."

  "Look Newt, I’ve got staff meetings up the ass tomorrow. I’d like to get back and get some shuteye."

  Bush was tired too but knew enough to continue the discussion. He had to be especially tough, as that was the makeup of a Bush, or at least that’s what the campaign ads had said. Bush felt in a weird way that he’d become what his campaign managers had advertised. He became characteristics he saw in his father as president. It was almost schizophrenic, but power cut away fears like a hot knife cutting butter. Sometimes deep down Newton W. Bush knew the only reasons he made president were:

  1. He’d graduated law at Yale Law School without getting caught cheating,

  2. his father was richer and a little smarter than Forest Gump, and

  3. The Republicans had spent over four hundred million dollars on Bush name recognition.

  Bush sat back staring at the ceiling. The room’s ceiling also had the presidential emblem and this amazed Bush.

  Bud looked at Bush annoyed. "Newt…Earth calling Mr. President…"

  "Oh…sorry, I’m a little tired. Look, I know you want to get back too but we need to be tough," said Bush.

  "Tough?"

  Bush sat straight. "Yeah, tough. If Schwartz is all fucked up, we tell them. I can’t have some General running around who’s all fucked up."

  "Well Newt, we were planning to send him a report later today explaining the situation."

  "Reports? You guys sent me enough reports to keep me busy reading for months. Now as president here’s what I’d like to do. First, we’re going to call Schwartz and update that bastard on what’s really going on. You’re sure you know what’s really going on, right?

  "We think so, sir."

  "Well you better be one hundred per cent sure or we’ll look stupid. Are you sure?"

  "I’m sure."

  "Good, so then we’ll call Schwartz and put things straight right away, but first I want to know about this Net-Chameleon project. Something about some Psych Ops being used to take over people’s computers -- now what the hell is that, Bud?"

  "Well Newt, it’s a long story."

  "I’ve got time
. It’s three hours to my first meeting today." I’ve got to be tough. We want people to say this Bush is the toughest.

  Bud winced. "Well the guys in the CIA and NSA wrote some software to act like a Trojan, and we not talking about condoms."

  "A pc Trojan?" asked Bush.

  "Yes, it would install on the target’s pc covertly and then track everything. We then used a main server to send in phony web sites like a phony Yahoo or phony news site. Most of the stuff is real news with some of it changed, but just a little. Sometimes we’d send phony e-mails to kidnap people or to screw up an ambassador etc. People would think they’re meeting their friends but they were really meeting agents. Really neat stuff but I personally didn’t like it – I could never look at my pc the same, always wondering if the stuff was real. The Trojan is easy, just a virus we keep updating to make sure no virus software detects it. It’s also morphed like a regular virus, so if detected people think it’s just something else. Except for a few fringe hacker sites, but no one believes them. We had the agency do a Psych Ops to discredit them too. Personally I don’t like the program."

  "I love it, " said Bush.

  "Newt, it’s against the Constitution."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes, it’s an illegal search and seizure."

  "Yeah, well, I’m sure there’s some loophole. I’d love to use this against the Libyans."

  "We are Newt, we use it all over the place. The problem is some hackers are using it too and now we’ve got the shit all over the Net." Murphy shook his head in frustration.

  "If that’s true, maybe Schwartz has got a point. He said the agency hackers are being targeted."

  "Newt, they are but it’s mostly from home computers. Our internal system uses special hard-coded chips with special encryption. You need physical access to screw around with those encryption codes."

  "Who has access to do that?"

  "MicroIntel has a secure server farm in Oregon and with the Justice deal we included some special measures. We are using their Big Blue server with special chips. It would require the NSA, CIA and MicroIntel’s president Gill Applebee to sign off to change those chips."