Netminder

by Jeff Adams

  “We should build in a way to report status as well so we know the script is still in place and functional—especially if it’s in a standby mode.” The guy who spoke was in cargo shorts and a rumpled Pearl Jam sweatshirt. He looked excited behind his circular glasses. “I’m Cornerstone,” he said.

  I nodded and wrote his suggestion on the board. “Good call out. I hadn’t worked my way to reporting yet, but we can add in whatever we think is necessary.”

  “Do we have to account for all the IPs or just the ones we’re cataloging?” asked a woman dressed casually in jeans and a light sweater with her blondish brown hair in a ponytail. She didn’t offer her codename.

  “The specifications are to control everything,” Split Screen answered, not taking her eyes off the whiteboard. She looked exactly like she had when we worked online previously. She was always in a T-shirt that had something to do with books, and her glasses were perched on top of her head. I’d never seen her actually wear them. “I’m Quarterflash by the way.”

  “And to your point,” I said, looking to Cornerstone, “getting information back from them is going to be crucial. You can imagine a government facility, like the CDC, will be extra tough to get into, and stay, in their private network, so status information is a must.”

  “What do you think it would take to write these?” Split Screen asked, shifting her gaze to me.

  “I’m not sure. I’m not even completely sure it’ll work.”

  “It’s the best idea we’ve had in a while,” she said. “We should build and test it. I’ve got some ideas already we should look at incorporating.”

  It’s either good that Split Screen stepped up to help because we can plan together. Or she’s really a Blackbird agent and her direct involvement will only make it harder for me to sabotage them.

  “For now our work is here,” I said, gesturing to the whiteboard. “We’re not to the stage we can write any code. There’s a lot of requirements left to sort.”

  I handed her a marker, which she immediately took.

  “Any of you who have ideas, throw them out,” she said. “This thing isn’t going to get written by just the two of us.”

  There were murmurs of consideration as the people around us continued to look at the board. She gave a slight nod to me. I didn’t return it, but I hoped it meant we were on the same page.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  SMART PEOPLE working together to achieve a goal was my favorite thing to be part of.

  Except when it was to take over the world.

  Terrifying didn’t even begin to cover how I felt about this.

  I finally returned to my room… cell… prison…. I wasn’t sure what to call it. I’d spent about twelve hours in the workroom and the scribbles on the whiteboard seemed to dance in front of my eyes.

  I kept the late dinner simple with a grilled chicken salad. It made sense to eat right to keep up my strength, especially since I’d been so sick. I’ve never been one who binged on the wrong food during fits of work. Sure there was a lot of Dr Pepper and maybe some late-night snacks of Nutter Butter cookies or Doritos. But I tried to keep the major meals in check.

  I came up with some additional ideas and writing them down in the notebook was restrictive. I didn’t mind making notes on paper, but without whiteboards and computers things got unruly fast.

  I decided to go back to the workroom for just a little bit. Rest was important, and I didn’t want to ignore sleep—at least not yet. The guard didn’t seem to mind the return trip upstairs.

  I returned to the whiteboard and surveyed what we’d written earlier. I added a few more concepts on how to breach private networks while looked for places I could sabotage everything. I went to my desk and pulled up the information about the IP directories that had been created. In particular I was curious about how far they’d gone with government and utilities.

  At the bottom of the screen, text appeared letter by letter—an incoming message.

  Locksmith here. Can see and hear you. Can finally message too and I’ll see everything you type.

  Whoa!

  Dean again goes above and beyond.

  Hopefully I didn’t betray anything to the cameras, although it was tempting to look up and smile.

  How?

  Security system gave me enough access to poke around. I was able to figure out which computer was yours, and I removed the restriction keeping you off the network. They shouldn’t be able to detect it as long as you don’t do anything crazy.

  You are my hero.

  I immediately felt better with the outside connection reestablished. It remained a priority to get my phone, though. Getting the lenses back up would let them see more accurately than the broad view of the cameras.

  How much do you know?

  I anxiously waited for the response. As frustrating as the three dots on an iPhone can be during a text message, there is nothing quite like watching the message form letter by letter, with frequent backspaces, because Dean wasn’t the best typist.

  Most of the day. We’ve been recording what’s said in the room, so we can keep track of it. For what it’s worth, the plan makes sense to me even though it’s scary as hell. How can I help stop it?

  Part of me hoped the plan didn’t make sense. At least it would buy time as I worked on the more critical plan to destroy Blackbird.

  Dean could do a lot from his vantage point. We needed to know if we could take down Blackbird’s infrastructure just like they’d done with TOS.

  I typed what I needed him to do, especially looking for data transfers between here and servers that might also be Blackbird’s. I couldn’t believe Westside was the mastermind. Less than a year ago, he seemed to be a hotheaded analyst, and here he’d morphed into one of their leaders.

  The bolt on the door clicked, and Westside walked in. According to the clock at the top of the monitor it was after midnight. I would’ve suspected that he’d be home in bed rather than showing up to see me.

  “I like this. Shows you’re committed. I had good reports today about your contributions. How about walking me through it?”

  I stole a look at the monitor, and whatever control Dean had on this computer, he was able to cover it up quick because none of our conversation showed. It was only the code that I’d been looking through.

  “Sure. It’d be good to get another perspective.”

  Why not play along?

  I started with what had spurred my idea and went on for about an hour. He even asked smart questions, but there was no additional input into any of it. Maybe this was outside his area of expertise.

  “I can see why people were impressed,” Westside said. “How long will this take?”

  The magic question.

  “No timelines yet. We’re still stepping through the structure for the scripts. We’re likely to only get one chance to deploy, so it has to be correct. If there are too many signs of a disruption, we’ll be shut down before we get started. To that end, we’ve also got to find a way to test it before any full-scale deployment.”

  He nodded and looked to the boards thoughtfully.

  “You know, I have to wonder.” He turned and drew a small gun from his waistband. I hadn’t seen it earlier because his shirt was untucked. He aimed at my head. I took two steps back before running into a desk. “Have you duped everyone like you did in Denver? Is there something in here that none of us can find? I’ve let everybody know that anything you provide has to be thoroughly vetted.”

  The guard at the door didn’t even flinch. Her stoic facade left no doubt she wouldn’t intervene on whatever Westside planned.

  Maybe I should’ve been scared, but I’d had my Dad point a gun at me a year ago and been shot even earlier this year. While my pulse sped up, the threat didn’t really faze me. I’d been through too much to allow it.

  Westside and I locked eyes, and he kept the gun steady. We’d had staring contests in Denver, except this time there was no one to force us to stop. No way he’d shoot
me; he still needed my work.

  “I’m curious. Why haven’t you just forced me to do this with the mind control tech? I’m assuming you’ve recovered that and continue to develop it.”

  A smile broke across his face—a creepy one that lay somewhere between a Cheshire cat and someone trying too hard to look innocent. “Believe me I wish that were possible. We have all the technology, and we’ve been developing it. Unfortunately it renders the controlee able to only execute instructions. We haven’t figured out a way to get someone’s intelligence, creativity, and thought processes to work under our control. Perhaps you can assist with that once we’re done with this.”

  He’d offered far more information than I expected. At least I didn’t have to worry about the mind control like I did the horrible audio tech. The prospect of staying here after the internet project chilled me to my core.

  Even if I couldn’t bring this down, working for this agency was not something I’d do. Maybe I’d messed up by not setting the conditions of my release before I got started.

  “Interesting. I wonder if that’s why TOS shelved the project,” I said. “Blindly following instructions is rarely a good thing since there’s usually some judgment required.”

  He lowered the gun and returned it to his waistband. What I said that prompted him to do that, I don’t know. At least that threat had passed.

  “Yeah,” he said, shifting his attitude to friendly, “it’s a shame it doesn’t work that easy. And we really don’t know the key to getting around it. It’s become a secondary project, though. Consider these scripts.” He turned his attention back to the board and pointed to some of our notes about the bots’ requirements. “They need to learn. So even these have some intelligence. We need the same thing in any mind control that we attempt. If all we need to do is execute simple instructions, we might as well build a robot.”

  He’d shared a lot. I’m glad Dean and Coach could see it. It wouldn’t help a ton, but it was good to have that documented for future review.

  Westside ran his hand through his short black hair and studied the board again.

  “What are your immediate next steps?”

  I stepped up next to him, also looking at the drawings and notes. “Like I said, we need to finalize the requirements and start coding the framework. We’ve also got to figure out how to test. We don’t want to break the internet in a way that we don’t intend.”

  “Kinda like feeding a cute gremlin after dark and ending up with a bunch of evil gremlins?” Westside smiled and chuckled.

  I kept my focus on the board. If Lorenzo, or another friend, had made that analogy I’d have joined in and probably offered others. No way I’d do that with him.

  “I’ll let you get back to work,” Westside finally said. “I’ll expect daily updates at six o’clock from you, Quarterflash, and Wildcat.”

  I nodded.

  Without another word he pivoted and headed to the door. The guard unlocked it before he got there.

  I continued to look at the board for several minutes, then went back to check with Dean before I called it a night.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  AFTER I took a quick shower, I dropped onto the bed in a T-shirt and boxers.

  I toyed with the idea that if these scripts proved successful in concept, they could be used to knock out Blackbird’s network and potentially even destroy it. Even with Split Screen on the inside, she might not be able to get the right access to do the mapping. Dean, on the other hand, from the outside might be able to trace how far their connectivity extended. It would be nearly impossible to know if he got it all, but it was worth the chance to see how far he could map.

  In the morning, a priority would be to figure out how to communicate with Split Screen.

  I missed Eddie. It’d been nice lying next to him. I hadn’t seen him since I went to the workroom yesterday morning. I didn’t know if he was still locked up or if his dad took him away.

  Having pushed down thoughts about him all day, it was impossible to do as I tried to drift off to sleep. I continued debating with myself if I should rescue Eddie as part of this mission. Or would it be better if he walked away on this own. Given what he’d done to me in New York, TOS might not take me bringing him out well, even though he’s helped me here.

  The door lock clanked as it released, and I pulled the blanket up, even though I had clothes on.

  It was late, and it didn’t make sense for anyone to show up.

  Eddie stuck his head around the door. “You want some company?”

  Wow.

  “Sure.” He came in, and I saw the guard pull the door closed behind him. “It’s good to see you.”

  He hung out near the door, looking miserable, with his hands jammed in his jeans pockets. Eddie usually exuded confidence. He looked zapped.

  “We’re moving,” he said sadly. “Dad’s reassigned. He’s pissed. Feels like me getting Mitch out and trying to break you out cost him a promotion. So… I guess this might be it for us.”

  Even though he’d left months ago under terrible circumstances, this was still a kick in the stomach. It’s crazy that I’d thought there could be an us if I resolved this.

  This boy held tight to my heart—and I didn’t want him to let go.

  He looked up and our eyes met. His were glassy as if they were on the edge of spilling over and that made my chest tighten.

  “You don’t have to stand way over there.” And again, ignoring common sense, I opened the covers and slid back so he had space. “If this is it, let’s at least get one last night.”

  Excitement coursed through me knowing I was about to hold him. We weren’t gonna be able to do anything hardcore, but I really didn’t care if the camera caught us making out. I couldn’t see our situation getting any worse.

  He didn’t hesitate coming over, kicking his shoes off at the edge of the bed.

  He nestled against me, and I wrapped my arm over his chest. Despite the time we’d spent together here, I still wasn’t used to the new way he felt. I took advantage of our spooning to feel up some of his new muscles. His nearly bald head continued to surprise me. I’d never seen any pictures of him, even baby pictures, with hair so short—it was barely there. It must’ve been part of a disguise since he did look quite different without the Afro.

  We lay silently for a while. I was hyperaware of the rise and fall of his chest. He was tense—body quite stiff—and he probably stared at the wall across from us. I waited for him to relax a little, but it didn’t happen.

  “Are you going to be able to fix this?” His voice was soft.

  I raised one of my legs and draped it over his, trying to draw us even closer together.

  “I don’t know. I’m worried about what happens in either scenario.”

  Even if I did my best, I feared for the people I cared about.

  “How do you deal with this? It’s like my life’s not mine anymore, but you’ve been doing it for years.”

  “Only for the last year has it been anything like this.” Uncharted territory lay ahead. Eddie and I could never discuss this before, but now he was in it as much as I was. “The first five years or so I was just a tech working on network security and gadgets. Sometimes I’d help out an agent in the field, but that was at my desk. It wasn’t until Denver that I was out there.”

  “I’m sorry for my part in all this.” He pulled my arm tighter around him and interlocked our fingers. I shifted so he could back closer into me. “I should’ve said no and then none of this would’ve happened.”

  I kissed the back of his head several times. “They would’ve done it somehow. They figured me out when they snatched me off my bike. They didn’t know who they were getting, they just knew it was someone with a tracker. You saved me from that. Who knows what would’ve happened if you hadn’t.”

  It felt good talking about this, but it was also painful. Butterflies in my stomach created nervous energy. I held Eddie tighter, which he seemed to like.

  “W
hat do you think happens next?” I asked. “For you, I mean.”

  He shrugged, which he barely had room to do. “I’ve no idea. I hoped Dad would send me to Mom. She’d take me, but he won’t let me go because I know too much.”

  He shifted and because this wasn’t our first time in a bed, I recognized the signs that he wanted to turn over. I moved to let that happen. I fought the urge to kiss him as we aligned face to face. This was just talk… but he was so close and with such hurt in his eyes that it was hard to not immediately try to comfort him.

  “I honestly think he’d be happy if I disappeared.” He shifted his gaze away from mine. He couldn’t decide where to look, but he was avoiding me. Tears welled up again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he had me taken out.”

  Another gut punch. Could he be serious? His father would make the choice to kill him?

  I’d already had my dad level a gun at me. He was under mind control at the time, but there was still that feeling of betrayal. Nothing I’d seen from Mr. Cochrane in the past made me think he could do that to Eddie. He wasn’t as nice as my parents, but he seemed like he genuinely cared for Eddie and at least played the proud father around his swimming accomplishments. He even seemed to like me—and that was well before he had any idea I was an agent.

  “Really?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged again. “Maybe I’m wrong. I’ve never seen him this angry, though. Not even when I didn’t capture you.”

  I pulled him still closer, even though it hadn’t seemed possible given our positioning. He looked devastated. I’d never not known a time when I didn’t have the support of my parents. Eddie had lost everything—being able to see his mom, the friends he had in Boston, me. His life split apart, at least in part, because my identity had been revealed to the wrong people. I kissed his forehead because it was closest, and he shuddered a little.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “How can you be sorry?” His voice cracked. “I did all this to you. It’s by far the worst thing I’ve ever done. Probably ever will do.” He tried to pull away, but I wouldn’t let him. “I shouldn’t be here.”