by JT Kalnay
“Thought of it,” Jean said. “The problem is, what to do with the planes already up?”
“No problem. The air traffic control people land them. I won’t shut down ATC.”
“If ATC can land ‘em, ATC can take ‘em off,” Jean said.
“You’re right. Shutting down the computers or the power doesn’t get me anything. And I can’t shut down ATC. That’d be a disaster,” Craig said.
“But you’ve got it. Don’t you see?” Jean asked.
“See what?”
“All you’ve got to do is sort of shut down ATC. So that it can only LAND airplanes,” Jean said. She smiled a proud smile.
“It’s better than anything I’ve thought of,” Craig said.
“So get to work,” Jean answered.
“Jean? Isn’t there any other way? Can’t I just go public? Can’t I just tell everyone what happened?” Craig asked.
“Do you think anyone would believe you? And what if they did? You think a lynch mob showing up outside will help anything? You think going to prison will help? How will you fix this from behind bars?”
#
“Craig I think I’ve got something,” Tim said.
“Well I doubt Jean gave it to you,” Craig said.
“Smart ass. In the code. I’ve got something in the code.”
Craig straightened up on the couch. Days worth of Chinese food cartons, burrito wrappers, pizza boxes and empty Diet Coke bottles littered the office. Craig cleared a path across to where Tim was sitting.
“What have you got oh slovenly one?” Craig asked.
“It’s not much, but it could be something, Sir Pigalot,” Tim said.
“Well. What is it?”
“Look here. You see this executable on your workstation here in this directory? It’s dated from before you got the Marauder code.”
“Yeah?” Craig prodded.
“And you see this executable over here? In the distribution directory? It’s dated a week later. And it’s a different size.”
“So? I was doing lots of work on the code. It makes sense the executable would change size.”
“So? So? Don’t you get it? Where did it change? What’s different before and after. We’ve got the .exe from before. We’ve got the .exe from after. We disassemble both, check out the differences, and we’ve got the offending code. We’ve got whatever it is that’s wrong.”
“Die motherfucker,” Craig said as he squinted into the screen.
#
“You get that disassembler form your buddy in Beantown?” Tim asked.
“Yeah. He’s got the latest, and he isn’t too shy to share,” Craig answered.
“Let’s do it,” Tim said.
The two men leaned in toward the screen while Craig’s fingers worked on the keyboard and initiated the disassembling. They only waited about ten seconds before the machine generated source code started flowing.
“First one’s done,” Tim said.
“Second one’s done,” Craig said.
“Okay let’s compare,” Tim said.
Craig’s fingers moved again as he fired up a diff program. He typed slowly and winced when his wrist bent at the wrong angle. After a while a list of information started scrolling by on the screen.
“Did you get that?” Tim asked.
“No, but I dumped it to a file. Let me print it. His laser printer started spitting images. Thirteen pages of differences flew out.
“So there it is Craig. Let’s get it.”
#
“I’ve got it. I’VE FUCKING GOT IT!” Craig cried.
“No shit?” Tim asked.
“No shit. Look. Here it is. There’s no way this is supposed to be in the auto pilot code.
pid = fork()
if ( pid = = 0 )
{
execl(“./maraud config=ALL find=YES hide=YES level=MASTER);
}
“Holy shit,” Tim said.
“Holy shit indeed. The fuckin’ AP software is launching marauder sessions. Who knows what the hell that would do to the AP software?” Craig said.
“I do,” Tim said.
“Well. I mean I’ve got a pretty good idea too but, Jesus, this is it!” Craig said. He grabbed Tim and swung him around in a wild dance as Tim’s body hung limp in his arms.
Chapter
August 1, 1994
Seattle, Washington
“That’s a beautiful drive up from San Francisco,” Craig said.
“Pretty, but lo-o-ong,” Tim added.
“Eight hundred miles long,” Craig added.
“I’m glad you two are here,” Jean said. “I’ve got the extra hardware you wanted. You can connect to your stuff at home, and, well, pretty well anywhere else you need to,” Jean said.
“Great. Got anything to eat?” Tim said.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me first?” Jean asked.
Tim pecked her lightly on the cheek.
“Craig says you know how to beat the game,” Tim said.
“I beat it, but Dr. Jane gave me the idea. So she gets half the credit,” Jean said.
“What was the idea?” Tim asked.
“I’ll let her tell you tonight. She’s coming over for dinner. So that’ll give you and Craig time to get a nap and clean up. Craig, didn’t you say you needed a walk?”
“More like a nap,” Craig answered.
Tim and Jean headed for her sun room, where the computer was set up with a nice view onto a wooded hillside in the Issaquah Alps. Craig headed for the guest room and was asleep the second his head hit the pillow.
#
“You did it. You won again,” Tim said. The incredulity dripped from his words.
“I can win every time. Just like that,” Jean said. “Using that simple little strategy.”
“And it still hasn’t caught on?” Tim asked.
“What do you mean?” Jean said.
“It’s supposed to learn from its mistakes so that it can’t get beat the same way over and over.”
“You think it’s supposed to learn from its mistakes?” Jean asked.
“Well from everything I’ve seen, that’s what it does,” Tim answered.
Once again Jean seemed to examine him.
“Maybe it’s because I’m running this system with an old version of DOS and I’m not connected to anything or because I beat it so fast,” Jean said.
“When did you load this game?” Tim asked.
“About a year ago. I got this cheapo 386sx to play games on. I don’t have anything else on it except Marauder right now.”
“That’s it. That’s got to be it,” Tim said.
“That’s what?” Jean asked.
“It’s got nowhere to hide. There’s no other program to take over. Just DOS. It’s probably programmed to only take over applications, not operating systems. If you can call DOS an operating system. It’s too easy to find an interloper in an o/s. The o/s guys know to look for rogue code. But it’s tougher to find one in an application. Your system has no applications to hide in,” Tim said.
“Can you use that to beat what’s out there?” Jean asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Should we load some other program on here and see if I can still beat it?” Jean asked.
“Brilliant,” Tim answered.
Just then the doorbell rang.
“That must be Jane,” Jean said. She stood to get the door.
“I’ll get it,” Tim offered. He started to stand, but before he could get to his feet Jean pushed him back down in the chair.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said. Jean kissed Tim full on the mouth as she leaned over him, her ample cleavage dangling in front of him. “In this house, you’re all mine baby.” Jean walked over and opened the door.
“Jane! Hi. Thanks for coming over,” Jean said.
“Are they here already?” Dr. Jane Brady asked, peering over Jean’s shoulder.
“Yeah. Tim’s experimenting with the game and
Craig’s asleep.”
“Asleep?”
“Yeah. They drove up. Craig still won’t fly. And the depressed tend to sleep a lot.n’
“Won’t fly huhn? I understand. The whole John Madden bus thing.”
“Except I don’t think Madden lost his girlfriend in a plane wreck he was in and thinks he caused.”
“Poor guy. How’s he holding up?” Jane asked.
“He’s reading like a Kubler-Ross paper right now. You know: shock, denial, anger, acceptance …” Jean said.
“I think you’re right to keep him working on this thing. If he doesn’t figure it out he’ll never stop feeling guilty,” Jane said.
“And he might spend the rest of his life in jail if he can’t stop it,” Jean said.
“Oh yeah?”
“You never know. He didn’t do it on purpose, but he did do it. A couple hundred manslaughter convictions can keep you dancing the horizontal mambo with big sweaty guys named Bubba and Tyrone for a long time,” Jean said.
“So you feel he’s responsible?” Jane asked.
“It was a mistake. But he is responsible. I’ve been telling him he’s not, but Tim can prove he is. And Craig knows he is too,” Jean said.
“What about those Marauder people? Aren’t they equally as responsible? They wrote the game,” Jane said.
"Yes they are, in a way. But they never intended it to be anything but a game."
"Oh."
“So that's why no-one has turned him in?” Jane said.
“You mean that's why I haven't turned him in?” Jean asked. She peered intently at her biologist friend.
“Yes.”
“You’re taking a big risk here aren’t you?”
“I have to. He’s my friend.”
“And I know more than anybody what that means,” Jane said. She walked over and put her arms around Jean and held her very tightly.
Chapter
August 1, 1994
Seattle, Washington
Craig tried to stifle a belch, and almost succeeded. He looked sheepishly around the table.
“Good feed,” Craig said.
“Thanks,” Jean answered.
“So tell us how you figured out how to beat the game,” Tim Ford said to Dr. Jane Brady.
“I didn’t. Jean and I were talking about my research on viruses and she picked up on something I told her. Then she put two and two together and solved it,” Jane said.
“So then would you please tell us what you told her?” Craig asked.
“Sure. Here it is. I research a virus that causes a specific type of cancer. This virus makes tumors that metastasize all over the body. The tumor cells don’t grow very large and they don’t grow very fast. But what they do is co-opt healthy cells to make more virus which in turn makes more tumors and so on. So a cell basically does the work of the cancer instead of its own. You get enough of this happening and the body shuts down. It just gives up because it can’t keep doing two jobs.”
“How does the virus get the cells to do cancer work instead of regular cell work?” Tim asked.
“Invasion and signaling,” Jane said.
“What and what?” Craig asked.
“Invasion and signaling. The virus lands on a cell. It identifies the cell as one with which it can work. It injects a segment of DNA into the cell. That’s invasion. The DNA from the virus affects the DNA from the cell and changes the cell’s job description,” Jane said.
“So what’s signaling?” Craig asked.
“The tumor cells are also producing chemicals that come in contact with infected cells. These chemicals can be used to direct the cell to start doing this or to stop doing that. That’s signaling,” Jane said.
“So does the virus hit just any cells?” Tim asked.
“No. It recognizes certain cells that are susceptible to its DNA. Kind of like a car thief can spot a car that is easily broken into with the tools he’s carrying,” Jane said.
“How does it recognize the susceptible cells?” Craig asked.
“Every cell has genetic marks and unique chains and patterns in its DNA.”
“But isn’t the DNA inside the cell?” Tim asked.
“Yes, in its intracellular domain. But each cell also has what’s called an extra cellular domain where there are chemicals floating around that tend to characterize what’s inside the cell. The virus basically just sniffs over the cell and knows,” Jane said.
“Where did this virus you’re studying come from?” Tim asked.
“Where did any form of life come from?” Jane responded.
“Okay then. Where did this virus get its DNA?”
“From healthy cells. Maybe a million years ago,” Jane said.
“How?” Craig asked.
“Now this is really interesting. It’s a testament to Nature. This virus is most likely a mutation of a special kind of virus that has a very peculiar habit. The original virus lands on a cell. It injects its DNA into that cell. Every virus does that. But this virus also releases an enzyme that randomly cuts out some DNA from the host cell. That random chain of DNA is then sucked back out into the virus. 999,999,999 times out of a billion the DNA sucked out is junk DNA that does nothing to the original virus and just ends up being broken up into its bases and used for something else. So that leaves the one in a billion case. In that one in a billion case the DNA can actually be used by the original virus. Then, there’s another one in a billion chance that the DNA is in any way useful or noticeable. But in that one in a billion-squared case, my virus pulled out DNA that causes the original virus to be altered in a very evolutionarily favorable way. The original virus pulled out DNA from the host cell that allowed the new cell to move around inside the body without being recognized. And furthermore, it didn’t pull out the DNA that regulated movement.”
“So the cell can move around? Big deal,” Tim said.
Jane looked disappointed.
“Oh it’s a big deal,” Craig said.
Jane’s eyes brightened a bit.
“Weren’t you listening?” Craig asked. “This virus could already cause cells to become cancerous. Now it can move around wherever it wants, unrecognized, and cause other cells to become cancerous. Not only that, but those cancer cells can move around too, spread all over, keep themselves distributed. Not form big clumps, or tumors. Fly under the white blood cell radar, so to speak. If all the cancer cells stayed in one place, cancer would be easy to beat. People would get cancer in one place and one place only. It’d still suck, but a tumorectomy would do the trick. Cancer in one place is better than cancer in a hundred.”
“Or, with this virus, a couple million places at the same time,” Jane added.
“So this is where I figured it out,” Jean said.
“I still don’t see it,” Tim said.
“I think I do,” Craig said.
“It’s the moving around part. The ability to touch other things and infect other cells. If it stayed in one place it would only affect where it was and you’d be able to detect it if it got too bad and then you’d be able to localize it and kill it,” Jean said.
“So that’s why when you were playing you never moved your character very far from its starting location?” Tim asked.
“Right. I stay in one place and Marauder goes nowhere. My character never leaves its first cell and the Marauder can’t either. It can’t morph into anything because it hasn’t co-opted any other cells. Eventually it has to show itself because it is genetically programmed to seek out cells. When it shows itself, you just watch it rot and taunt it and get it to spend its energy trying to get you to move,” Jean said.
“So that’s how you’ll beat it on the planes then,” Tim said.
“How?” Craig said.
“We won’t let them move. We’ll freeze ‘em. And everything on them,” Tim said.
“I think it’s too late for that boys,” Jane said.
“Why?”
“Because unlike Jean’s game, the wild-type virus ha
s already moved. It’s already infected other places. And some of the DNA it extracted from other programs it’s infected might have even have evolved.”
“And besides that,” Jean offered. “There’s no way you’re going to simultaneously ground every plane and shut down every program and system on every plane in the entire world,” Jean said.
“So what do we do? How do you fight a virus?” Craig asked.
“Four ways,” Jane answered. “One, the body’s immune system recognizes the virus and sends specialized cells to surround it and kill it. Two, you keep the cells living long enough and let the virus act long enough so that the virus changes the host conditions to a point where the virus can no longer survive. Three, gene therapy. Four, a vaccine.”
“Two is out,” Jean said. “The host is the entire air travel network. So far. And it could spread elsewhere. We can’t let it simply destroy all the hosts and burnout.”
“So we work on 1, 2 and 4,” Tim said.
“One’s easy now that we know how to recognize an infected machine. We’ll launch a similar migration-enhanced program onto the Web that’ll track down infected machines and reformat their hard drives,” Craig said.
“We’ll get caught,” Tim said.
“So I go to jail,” Craig said. “I’d rather go to jail for this than for killing any more people,” Craig said. “It’s my fault they’re all dead anyway. So I’ve got to stop it. I’ll gladly do time for reformatting people’s hard drives.”
“You’re forgetting something,” Jane said.
“What’s that?”
“So you cure the infected machine. Wipe it clean. What prevents a re-infection? Either from the Web or from backups?” Jane asked.
“Three and four I’m hoping,” Tim answered.
“Three and four. Gene therapy and a vaccine. You simultaneously vaccinate every machine in the world at the same time to fight the virus if it reappears. It’s like smallpox. Once everyone in the entire world was vaccinated, the disease died. There’s no way we’ll ever see another case of smallpox in the history of the world.” Craig said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Jane countered. “You think the army boys, ours or theirs, didn’t keep some smallpox toxin around as a weapon? Guess again.”
